My best wishes, Swampy.
Here’s a messageboardfor Solidworks. I use it for Pro/Engineer. Lots of helpful people, and searchable for questions.
Prayers prayed, Swampy.
I thought it was a gravy thing.
Scuttle.
Gravy scuttle thing.
Of course, Swampy probably spoons sugar out like gravy.
Nope. Boats are for liquids. Scuttles are for solids, like a coal scuttle.
I just made that up.
Well done!
Y’all thought when I quit the Navytown rescue squad that these tales would end. Yeah, well, so did I.
For those who don’t know, I’ve been on the hook since July for this business trip I’m on. Planning has been a nightmare, with 3 schedule slips and a hurricane all pushing the thing
out to November. At last, I got my ass on the plane and I’m in sunny Sandy Yeggo. I can’t call today sunny, because all I will see of it is when it peeked over the mountain when I went to brekkies today. It’ll be down when I leave.
Anyway, to make the story longer, I left from Baltimore in the morning for the Left Coast, routed through Chicago. It was now 5 days since Sandy went ashore, and the flights are still hosed. The flight was so much the proverbial cattle car that I actually mooed at the flight attendants as I passed. They grinned wanly at me and shook their heads.
O’Hare sucks on a good day. As soon as I got there, whatever residual good day I had left was gone, so Teh Suck multiplied geometrically. I had 2 and a half hours to kill, I was hungry and getting grumpy. Then, it happened. A 2 hour and change flight delay. I got some fuds, found a seat with a power station, and set up camp. Played with my phone, played with my computer,and looked for hot babes to watch.
Soon, I spotted a cute lady of Asian Indian ancestry, with a couple of grade school aged kids in tow. They hung around my gate, so I assumed they would be on my flight. My nose went back to a rollicking game of Angry Birds.
After a long walk through two other terminals and a stop for an overpriced ginormous oatmeal raisin cookie, my plane boarded. This one was even more of a cattle car, and I was the fat man in the middle. Most of the flight was uneventful. It’s the rest that wasn’t that I’m reporting on now.
We were about 45 minutes out. I was actually dozing off while watching From Russia With Love, it was so boring. Then came the PA announcement: “Are there any medical professionals aboard?” My eyes slammed open, and I told the guy next to me that I was a paramedic. Yeah, it was a small lie 'cuz I’m one level below, but it got him out of my way.
I passed a flight attendant on the way to the front who told me it was an 11 year old girl with problems breathing. OK, familiar situation, probably asthma. When I got to the patient, it was the daughter of the Indian mom I saw earlier. And I wasn’t alone. One lady was a doctor, another was a nurse, and I heard voices of another nurse and doctor around the corner.
I took the pulse of the girl, who was on a pony bottle of oxygen. It was rapid, but not exceedingly so. A BP cuff appeared, and I took her pressure, which was also up a bit. When I took her arm for the pressure I saw her hand, wondered if that was blood, then realized it was henna body paint. It was cool looking, but looked too much like blood to me. I finished off with a quick listen to her lungs, which were clear.
All this time, the lady doctor was talking to the girl and the mom. They were coming home from a big wedding where the patient was a bridesmaid. All the pieces added up to a panic attack, and considering the Charlie Foxtrot that was O’Hare and the dense pack on the plane, I can’t blame her for having one. There was added embarrassment when San Diego Fire and Rescue met the plane when we landed. Poor kid.
On the way out, I talked with the doctor, and told her that was the perfect situational setup for the old joke with the punchline, “When you get to the part about calling the doctor, I’m already here.” She laughed, because she had both heard it and lived it.
That was my in-flight excitement for the day. Rah.
You make a whole lot of sailors nervous by discussing scuttle and boat in the same sentence. 
I’ve had a panic attack like that before, and it sucks. Scariest thing ever.
See what happens when you make things up?
… oh. Bridesmaid. Not bride.
Carry on.
When we got home, I saddled up the JohnDeere and the mulcher/vac and rode around the front yard - it took less than an hour, which is good - if I wait till there are a ton of leaves, it’ll take lots longer to clear.
I’m nuking a twice-baked N.O.T. for supper. **FCD **didn’t want a meal and I’m hungry!! Afterwards, knitting will ensue.
And I’m off tomorrow - woohoo!!! LD
Can’t believe I forgot {{{swampy & SIL}}}
Thanks Y’all. Still no word but between mom and my oldest niece (bro’s and sil’s daughter) I’m in the loop.
BBBobbio danger just follows you does it not. 
I’d have never guessed sugar bowl. Apparently I am not up to par on the varied vessels from which sugar may be dispensed. I do own a sugar bowl, just never use it. I drink coffee black and actually prefer (gasp!) unsweet tea or if I’m feelin’ like livin’ on the edge half sweet/half unsweet.
Dindin was a beef roast with gravy, rice and cabbage. I’ve eaten a whole lot of cabbage lately for some reason.
Oh, Bobbio, that poor kid. I’ve had a few panic attacks, and they were really, really no fun. The best way I could describe it was knowing there was a hungry grizzly bear standing right behind me, but no one else could see it.
I loved the differentiation between scuttle and boat, but alas, Wikipedia lists a shaving scuttle, which is intended to hold hot water. Mug - Wikipedia
But I never would have known this if Ethilrist hadn’t posted it!
Oh, hell.
If you haven’t seen it, tdn just posted a thread telling us that Autolycus has passed away.
SIL is in the ICU at Columbus Specialty which is the acute care part of Columbus Regional. I imagine we’re in for a few days of wait and see.
Appendages n such crossed for your SIL, Swampy.
Bobbio, I’ll keep an eye on the news and follow the ambulances to see where you are, lol!
Poor Autolycus. 
Hi ever-body! It’s been a very very bad few years and I’m not out of the woods yet. But y’all are the best medicine. It’s so good to read the MMP again!
Happy news: I finally moved from my awful sorta home town to Santa Rosa Ca. I can feel in my heart this is the place for me. My mental and physical health are better than they’ve been in a decade (though I could stand to lose a few pounds!). Plus I finally have a cell phone that I kinda know how to use. Srsly folks-- I held out until 2012!
The bad news would fill a book and what would be the point? So phooey on that!
Tomorrow is laundry day, as much for clean clothes as for something to do. How twisted is it to regard chores as entertainment? My mom would insist on checking my ID if she knew her Olympic level procrastinator of a daughter was doing the laundry before it was a dire situation. Like no undies or purple pants with an orange polka dot blouse. Horrors!
Oh! I’m sending good thoughts out to your SIL Swampy. Gotta think positive!
Fingers crossed, swampy.
I really was so shocked and disturbed to read that about Autolycus.
In much more mundane news, I would have to strongly caution anyone against buying the frozen turkey meatballs from Trader Joes. YUCK! The brown rice pasta and fat free pizza sauce were pretty good, though!