You know how I thought it would
be ok to move Gary’s clocks to the basement?
He’ll never know, right? He hasn’t
been downstairs in months and months. I literally
don’t remember the last time he was able to get out of bed so there is no chance
he’d be downstairs to notice the clocks were moved.
That was my line of thinking 2 days
ago. Last night he was downstairs.
Not long enough to notice the clocks, though as the paramedics were whisking him to an ambulance. He had a heart attack almost 2 years ago and last night, for the first* time since then, he needed nitroglycerin.
*He
disagrees with this – he thinks he had to take it once before but he also
thinks the Bolivian ambassador is in my sock drawer so we’re going to go with
my recollection which is last night was the first time in nearly 2 years that
he needed nitroglycerin.
If the first pill doesn’t help,
he can take another 5 minutes later. The
first one didn’t help. Gauging the 5
minutes was a little tough, though, because I put all the clocks in the basement.
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