After my seizure late Thursday, that is. I blacked out for probably 30 to 45 minutes, coming to in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. By the time I got there, it was as if nothing had happened, except I had bitten my tongue. It was severely swollen and I could hardly talk. Swallowing was tough.

As of today, my energy is mostly back, but my speech and are still way sub-par. So this won’t be a real post today. Hopefully I’ll be back on Friday. Yesterday I was able to write a letter to a grandson and do a little editing on a Bible study.

Last night, at 11:30 p.m., I had another seizure. Lynda called 9-1-1. The ambulance transported me to the hospital. A CT scan showed no abnormalities, and I was back to normal, so they sent me home about 2:00 a.m.

Today I mainly rested. Fell asleep during the day and missed my PT appointment. Alas. I’m doing well but am quite tired.

Yesterday morning, I hit a new low on my weight. I was 187.4 pounds. That leaves me only 7.4 pounds to go to reach my goal, or, 12.4 pounds to reach my wife’s goal for me. That’s down from a peak weight of 304, reached in 2004 and 2006.

How did I lose over 100 pounds? Slowly, over 19 years. A little more exercise, a little more careful eating. Helped along the way by the health problems I went through last year.

The current question is, how do I keep it off? Check in again on this blog, where on occasion I talk about my health.

My plan for today had been to post a review of a book I recently finished reading. But last night, shortly after bedtime, I had a low blood sugar incident. My blood sugar went from 112 (a v. good bedtime number) to 33 in just 40 minutes—and that with having a small snack. I got up and barely managed to take a sugar reading, get a glucose pill, and go to the kitchen for food. In theory, the glucose pill should have been enough had I just waited for it to take effect. But, in that condition, which I’ve had before (but not for a couple of years), I feel like I’d better get some food in me.

But, because of that, I’m wiped out this morning. That kind of low blood sugar takes a physical toll. I’ll push my intended blog post out until Monday. Hopefully I’ll feel up to doing a few things today. I have a physical therapy evaluation appointment this morning that I will keep. But not sure I’ll do much more today.

Friday was to have been a celebration, of sorts. That was my last day of cardio rehab. 35 sessions from Nov 20th± to March 14, with interruptions for Thanksgiving, Christmas, my seizure, and two trips to Massachusetts. I did not see an improvement on my weight or waistline, which I attribute to two weeks of restaurant food in Massachusetts, but the muscle tone in my legs sure is better. Since Dec. 22, Lynda’s had to do all the driving (20 miles each way) for all these, since I’m not allowed to drive due to the seizure.

Friday was a windy day. We were southbound on Interstate 49, Lynda constantly fighting the wind. At one point, she was driving in the left lane on a 3-lane stretch when a box blew out of a flatbed truck just ahead of us and a lane over. The box bounced in our path, and it seemed we could not miss hitting it. But the wind blew the box across the lane in front of us, with debris spilling out on the pavement. We missed the box but ran over the debris, whatever it was.

By the time we got to the rehab place, the low-pressure light was on. By the time I got out of rehab an hour later, the tire was flat. I called AAA. They sent a truck, but I had trouble using their online locator guide and had him going to the wrong place. We were in a huge parking lot for the hospital/dr offices building. The guy found us, actually fairly quickly, aired up the tire, and it wouldn’t hold air. So AAA sent a tow truck, which also came fairly quickly. I had them tow us to the Dodge dealership we use, which was only 3 or 4 miles away. In the process, we learned that our minivan did not have a spare tire in the place allotted for it.

The dealership mounted a new tire and had us on our way in an hour and a half, me downing two cups of coffee and one package of peanut butter crackers during the wait. Just before we pulled out of the service garage, it started raining—pouring, actually. At times, Lynda couldn’t really see the road. Then came the hail, really hard and probably grape size. We passed several churches with drive-unders, but other cars had already parked under them before us, so we kept going. By the time we got to the main road through Bentonville, the hail had stopped, and the rain tapered off to a fine mist. By the time we got back onto the Interstate, all rain had stopped. Our neighborhood was dry, as it was west of the storm line. We drove right through that line.

By this time, neither of us felt like celebrating the end of rehab. But it was 5 p.m. and we also knew neither of us would feel like preparing supper. So, as planned, we stopped at our nearest Mexican restaurant and got take-out fajitas.

As a result, I lost the entire afternoon for work, and two items on my 4-item Friday to-do list didn’t get done—still aren’t done. And neither of us even want to look at what damage we might have to the car from the hail.