Is not writing drivel for over a year an achievement?

Increasingly, I do not travel well.

(Many details skipped. You are welcome.)

I am in a hotel room now, and I cannot get to sleep.

Tried checking my blood oxygen saturation, but the device won't give me numbers, and it's rudimentary pulse trace looks weird.

(Had I mentioned that last December I was diagnosed with Pulmonary Hypertension? This is why I even have a device for measuring blood oxygen saturation. A relatively rare condition, and the science around it is a work in progress. The primary symptom is hypoxia, a fancy word for acute shortness of breath. After many tests and examinations my category of this illness is "ideopathic". Ideopathic is a fancy word to describe a shrug. So now I finally have the supplemental oxygen that I have felt I needed for years.)

So, I get out my portable EKG device and check.

Four readings in a row all say "possible atrial fibrillation".

Have I mentioned before that I have a recent history of AFib? After two emergency cardioversions (zapped back to sinus rhythm while under general anesthesia), I had an ablation (tools snaked up through my femoral veins to burn out selected nerve connections at my heart).

I have done enough to ruin this trip, so I will not wake up Patricia (Spouse) to tell her about the return of AFib. I don't feel very bad, so I will just keep taking EKGs until it reads normal.

I feel terrible that this will likely ruin some of her plans for the day.

I left a few things out. My body is in cascading failure mode.

Sounds like a lot of complaints, but I really appreciate every day of life more than ever before. Mortality is for everyone, and I am glad that my awareness and acceptance of that truth makes every fraction of existence something to love.