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Tell me a story

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Turn Down the Volume

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150707
Heroes

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Who Will Reunite Toronto?

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Toronto the Orange

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Convocation

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Father's Day 2012

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Thornhill Fair

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three songs

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small towns

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150707 Heroes

Another day at work, another problem.

Today started as a good enough day. The rain didn't soak my clothing, and the barometric pressure didn't make arthritis nor rheumatism today.

Yesterday was a fun day too. We met Jeff for lunch, then I spent the whole day walking with my hun, and the two of us spent the evening with my brother and his GF.

Our store's manager advised that we should be expecting a plumber soon, and perhaps a visit from the yoga studio downstairs.

Two "Daniel"s were working today. One was cut early, and the other would close. I was advised I'd be cut at 930pm because business was light. While I don't remember the time, both of them were dismissed at the same time. One to go home, one for his half hour break. It was mostly quiet, with little bunches of guests.

Eventually, Daniel came back from his Thirty, and our Shift could take hers. Her new husband and daughter were waiting in the lobby to join her.

Perhaps five minutes later, some guy comes to the backroom door. I know this guy. He lives near the store. Let's call him Ric.

He starts shouting the F-bomb and calling our store manager the B-name. He says we are just giving him the run-around, evading the problem. There is a leak coming from our store to the yoga studio below, and he contends that his daughter is now unable to pay rent, make a living, and more because we won't address the leakage.

Daniel asks him what he wants, and he goes directly into his face, and starts his yelling again. Daniel explains the manager isn't here, but the supervisor is here. He leaves to find the Our Shift. Ric continues his ruckus, as if we are trying to hide our precious queen, hoping his shouting will bring her into the open.

The Shift comes over, and again Ric shouts in her face, telling her that she isn't doing enough, told her to stop jerking him off. He insists he is going keep it up until someone comes and fixes the problem. "Right Now!"

Introducing Glenn. For a long time, I knew him as "Grande Mocha Frap in a Venti cup, double blended, extra Mocha, extra Whip, double blended, separate transactions."

Glenn tells Ric to stop swearing (the response was F-you) and to settle down. Now the two of them are shouting. Then two more people from the line join in, and tell Ric to stop.

Until this point, I was just caring for guests, but you can see I didn't ignore the dialog. I say "I. Have had. Enough." The phone is next to me, and I try to call for help.

The experience was odd. I couldn't operate the phone. I know how, but I couldn't figure it out. I shout, "I am calling the police," but then, I experience the funniest feeling. It was like a tooth ache, but in my chest and on my left cheek. At the same time, my knees start bending. I usually have bad knees, so I'm always holding onto something, like the front counter. So this time I'm holding on, as I'm slowling melting into the floor. Okay, just kneeling. But the odd thing is how I couldn't prevent it. I'm going down.

Glenn is suddenly next to me, and telling me that everything is okay, and that I should just put my arm around him. He asked me if I could walk. I am sure I said yes, but he carried me into the back room.

I was helped into a chair, and then it happened again, but from the chair. I'm suddenly capsizing, slowly melting, until I'm lying down on the floor of the back room. No pain, but no energy to get up on my own.

It didn't last long, perhaps I was lying down a minute. I'm getting up right away and he's helping me into the chair again, and I feel fine.

I thought I heard someone tell Glenn not to stay in the back room, but he just laughed and said it was okay, that he was a body guard (or something). He was calm and kept me talking gently to me the whole time. At some point, I explained I was feeling much better, and thanked him, suggesting he could go if he wanted to. Instead he remained with me until the firemen showed up.

Another Shift came in to make sure I was okay. We wanted to cancel the ambulance, but I learned that only the one who calls it in can cancel it. Or something.

The firemen were similar. They came in, and were cordial visitors. There were three of them. I didn't get their names. Eventually, one wanted to take my heart rate and blood pressure. I kept saying I called to cancel the ambulance, and they were polite but didn't leave. They seemed to know it was going to show up at some time or other. It was almost an hour. They were more patient about it than I was. They refused coffees, and just attended me, making jokes and small talk in our back room.

The store manager came, and interviewed me while the firemen were there. I felt badly because the store manager gets so little family time as it is. I heard she was trying to prepare dinner when the store called her.

A couple of paramedics from the ambulance came over and wanted to talk to me in the back of their van. I was worried I'd be leaving my things behind at the store. They said we weren't going anywhere suddenly. It was just a better place to examine me. I got worried again when the guy started up the van. But that was so they could turn on the lights and the air conditioning. It was nice in there!

The electronic machine measured my heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen. The paramedic working with me explained she wasn't a doctor, but would share any knowledge with me as long as I understood that part. She was concerned about the low oxygen reading (88), and wanted to know if I was a smoker or had COPD. I told her about my CPAP machine, and said that nobody has told me I have COPD. I explained how running for a bus, or strong emotions causes fluid to gather in my lungs. That was why I sought the help of a heart specialist. In this particular case, I didn't get that. Instead I just kind of folded up, and was no longer able to stand up for a bit.

We really talked at length about things: the drugs I was taking for hypertension, for pain, and the vitamins; the exercise I was (and wasn't) getting; my appointment for an echo cardiogram next week. She had practical advice for me, and concerns about the iboprofen I take. It was perhaps the best medical consultation I have had in ten years.

I had to assume the risk for not letting her take me to the hospital. That required signing a form on her laptop computer. I didn't want to go there right away. I wanted to think about this overnight, and discuss it with my hun.

My chest and energy feel fine right now. But if I start to tell the story, I begin to cry a bit, and my throat chokes up. I hate that so much. So instead of telling this story to my hunny verbally, I've taken an hour to write it all down. This means I share it with you too.

Glenn. Firefighters. Paramedics. Our store manager.

Heroes, all.

2015 is upon us.