This weekend started off with some good old-fashioned nail painting.
Then Boyfriend came home with this little gem.
On Saturday, Boyfriend and I met his mother, aunt and grandma for lunch at Taste. We ordered mojitos (the only drink Boyfriend and I can agree on), only to find out (after they started making them) that they were $10 a piece.
They were good, but they weren’t that good.
Then Sunday, Boyfriend slept all day and then Big Sister and Mama came to Indy. We went to Ale Emporium, where our server sported a rather unattractively confused look when Big Sister and I ordered wine. (Please don’t confuse this statement – he wasn’t attractive to begin with. Not that he was ugly, just nothing to call home about. Or write about in a blog. Which…I am anyway.)
Sorry we’re classy, buddy.
Bright side: It came in a decent-sized bottle (we each got one, holla), so we got a couple glasses a piece and wasn’t completely horrible-tasting, despite the aforementioned look on our server’s face. It’s the little things in life.
But onto more important things.
Although I like to think they were literally magnetically pulled to Indianapolis because of my stunning good looks, dashing wit and extravagant hostessing skills, Mama and Big Sis really came up for a much less stellar reason.
Mama, at all of 51 years old, has to get a pacemaker put in.
The short version: Mama’s been having fainting spells evidently her whole life and instead of low blood sugar like she’d been previously told, it was really her heart stopping.
As in, the one thing your heart really isn’t supposed to do.
So they came up for a second opinion at St. V’s here in Indy. Here’s a quick photo montage of the visit.
Then, [sans photo, sorry] Big Sis and I looked at this much better photo montage called The 50 Cutest Things That Ever Happened from BuzzFeed. (I highly suggest you check this out now, and especially again on a particularly horrible day.) And subsequently laughed until we cried, at which point we 1. couldn’t stop laughing and crying, 2. had no Kleenex with which to mop ourselves up and 3. Big Sis failed at trying to get me to laugh more quietly. I’m a loud laugher, and proud of it. (Some might say a sonorous snickerer. A cacophonous chortler. Perhaps even a turbulent titterer.
Yes, I’m done now.)
Then it was time to go into the exam room.
Dave, the one-earringed nurse tech guy, made Mama change into this stunner.
Then the cardiologist made an exact plastic replica of Mama’s heart, complete with number and color-coded keys for identification purposes.
Anyway, this whole mess is all because of my mother’s extremely and annoyingly fussy carotid artery. Of all the nerve.
But more about that later.