To make a long story short, a half dozen ladies attending the weight watchers group came out of their offices, called an ambulance, got me sitting in a chair they'd brought to the sidewalk, the ambulance (and a fire truck) arrived and I couldn't talk them into believing I was alright, that I needed to rest, these were symptoms I understood. So I rode to the emergency room; two of the ladies, a mother and daughter, I think, driving my car to the emergency room parking lot and crossing the road to the unit to give me my car keys and the parking ticket. The camera, they said, was safely in the back. (It was. I had no doubt. Some people you meet you don't even have to ask, you just know.)

Six hours later after many tests, all negative, after an x-ray, blood test and pumping two liters of water in through an I. V., they determined I was dehydrated and that my blood pressure medication was acting up. The blood pressure stuff I was aware of, I've been fighting it for two years. Mr. S came by to give me a ride home in my car and then returned to the emergency parking lot in to retrieve his own car a cab.

So fourteen glasses of water later I'm going to bed. Why dehydrated? I'd felt thirsty yesterday, had drunk quite a bit of water, what happened? The blood pressure stuff, well it's time to make changes, move my doctor from Palo Alto to Oakland and start over, find something that's predictable. This crap I've been taking is obviously wonder stuff except, in my case, it doesn't work. Pain in the butt, that: doesn't work.