Call Me Pollyanna . . .

My cat went hypoglycemic.

My car broke down.

My husband is in the hospital.

Does that sound like the first verse of an American country and western song?

It does, but it also describes my weekend. And, yet, the news isn’t as grim as it might seem. Not at all.

First things first. My husband went to the emergency room late last week with tightness in his chest. It turned out to be pulmonary embolisms in both lungs! That sounds awful, and it is, but . . .

. . . they caught it before he keeled over from it, which is exceedingly lucky, and he’s getting exactly the treatment he needs to address the problem. Along the way, they did a lot of tests on his heart and we now know there are no problems there! The hospital staff is well-trained and very kind.

Don, my husband, is bored and antsy but other people on the floor are in pain, very ill, frightened.

There are worse things than being bored.

Then, when I left to go to the hospital yesterday, a red indicator light came on in my car—the battery was not charging. I couldn’t be sure that I’d make it to the end of my road, let alone to the hospital 15 miles away. That sounds like a drag, and it is, but . . .

My mother and stepfather live nearby and have a car they are happy to lend. There’s a good service station close by, where they know us, and they’ll make fixing my car a priority. I’ve been inconvenienced but the car I have is a stalwart—14 years old and, generally, going strong; it can be fixed. And I have other options for getting around.

There are worse things than being inconvenienced.

Then, there’s my cat, my sweet Roxie, who is diabetic. I never would’ve imagined I could test blood sugar and give insulin injections but I do it every day with no problem. Yesterday, however, her blood sugar plummeted, which can cause seizures and death. That sounds scary, and it was, but . . .

. . . this cat is so sweet and mellow that it was easy to do what I needed to, to get her through the hypoglycemic episode. Repeated ear pricks, to get repeated blood samples for testing, leave this cat unfazed—she just purrs and loves the attention she’s getting! After lots of high-carb crunchy treats, her blood sugar rose and the problem was averted. We’ve had two cats die of cancer recently and I’ll take diabetes any day.

There are worse things than diabetes.

So, I’m sitting around on a Monday morning feeling pretty content, pretty optimistic, pretty Pollyanna-ish.

There are worse things than being a Pollyanna!

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Enough about me! How was your weekend?!