Mama J went to the hospital last Thursday for a routine check-up on her heart. As soon as she opened the appointment letter she got palpitations and continued having them on and off right up until her appointment, three weeks later. Has Dr Doug Ross transferred from the ER and into a hospital right here in the UK? I reckon he must’ve done to give her chest moving action like that!
On the day of her check-up Mama J went into a cold and clammy sweat. I don’t think Dr Doug would be very impressed by that glamorous look or feel as he gave her an examination. She sat at the opposite end of the sofa to where she normally sits and then kept jumping up and down randomly. Was she going to find out whether she had ants in her pants? Or was she auditioning for the part of a Jack In The Box. I think she would’ve won the role hands and paws down.
She did ask me to go with her although Granny said it wasn’t such a great idea as monitors and me don’t mix very well. I just have to be laid on the sofa when Holby City is on and the musical noises the monitors make send me into a frenzy of barking. Holby City and I would make an excellent alternative choir, for deaf people to enjoy! It was deemed safer that I guard the house while the two other girls in my family went to the check-up.
I can’t go into too much detail as I’ve got a data protection clause in my doggie blogging contract to do with medical information. Although I must tell you about one of the questions Mama J asked her Consultant Cardiologist. She told him about walking me and asked if she was okay to do more walking as she didn’t want to put too much strain on her heart. His reply was as follows, “Oh yes Juliet, I think walking your dog is excellent exercise and wouldn’t do your condition any harm whatsoever in fact gentle exercise would do it some good. So yes, walk your dog once… No twice a day!” The colour drained from Mama J’s face at this point as not only did she think of all the “lovely” exercise we were going to do but also that she would need to spend big bucks to get some decent walking gear to do it in. Granny was rubbing her hands together in glee and planning all the magazines and books she was going to read while Mama J and I pound the pavements of our area.
I have the Doctor’s bank details and will be making a financial transfer right after finishing this post. Now I can fully train Mama J to reach her maximum athletic potential in full knowledge that medical professionals are right behind me, cheering me on!
So I threw a massive diva strop on Saturday afternoon. This strop would’ve beaten any that Mariah Carey or Elton John could ever have thrown, if strops were in fact a competition. My tantrum and tiara moment was all over where I laid on “my” sofa.
I had just made myself comfy across “my” two favoured cushions for the afternoons Rugby match, when in strolled Granny and Grandpa armed with wine and rum and coke. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon, I was ready to ring Alcoholics Anonymous about my pair of lushes!
Anyway Granny sat towards the window end of the sofa and then with that Grandpa picked me up and plonked himself down where I had been laid. The cheeky bugger! With that I gave him “the look” and ran over to the other sofa, squashed down the cushion in sheer defiance and laid with my back to them both, staring at the back of the sofa. How dare they? Don’t they know that those are “my” cushions? Wait until “my” Mother gets home! I’ll be telling on these two!
As the Rugby match progressed and England were scoring lots of tries my Kevin and Perry sulk moment kept getting interrupted by the noisy pair shouting and screaming with joy at the telly. I just kept glaring over my shoulder as if I’d changed from a Yorkshire Terrier, supporting England to an honorary Scottie dog and a fan of the Scotland Rugby team, just because I didn’t approve of my Grandparents pure cheek!