Today I went to the cardiologist. After several months of occasional premature beats, I decided it was time to get checked out. Rachel was a godsend and did the legwork of finding a good cardiologist and so it was off to Stanford Medical Center I went this morning.

Driving, parking, finding the office, filling out forms, getting weighed and measured and it was off to the examination room I went. A thorough examination later and now I’m wired to seven electrodes plugged in to a meter smaller than a VHS tape. I’m wearing the box in a shoulder-bag. My cardio-manpurse.

Anyhow, now the machine’s watching my every beat and I’m sitting here at my desk, waiting for my heart to flip-flop. It’s like the opposite of hiccups: The more attention I pay to it, the less it wants to happen.

Anyhow, now I’m wired (and partially shorn, but maybe I’ll talk about that later), and still getting over the cold that kept me from work yesterday. Ugh. Too much stimulus.