40's not so great

I turned 40 about a month ago, and since then, bad things have been happening.  First, I was jumping on the bungee trampoline at the mall, turned blue, almost passed out, felt like I was going to die.  The next afternoon was spent at the emergency room, because I was short of breath, dizzy, still not feeling right after the whole episode.  All the tests came back fine, and I'm still short of breath.

Sunday morning, 8 a.m., the doorbell rang.  That's never a good thing.  I looked out the window to see who was here.  I didn't see the neighbor standing there telling us our cat got run over, but I saw my precious Jason's body in the street.

Today, my dear daughter told me to stop whining about Jason, so I went outside to mourn in peace.  I took pictures of his grave (thank you, Jenjo, for the grave marker you so thoughtfully gave me).

I decided I would go sit by the creek on the drainpipe where Jason and I used to watch fish.  Here it is, so you can picture it:

I was wearing my one-piece fuzzy pajamas, of course, and crocs, which were wet from the dew.  I got out to the edge of the pipe, slipped, crashed my left knee onto the pipe, and splatted into the creek, scraping my hands on the rocks in the process.  My camera and I were completely submerged until I recovered from the shock (the creek water is unbelievably cold at the end of November) and made the freezing sprint to the house.  The camera is now dead, but I'm hoping to revive it by baking it in the oven on low.  I took the card out of the camera, and the pictures on it were safe. I have that, and lots of other things to be thankful for as the holiday approaches.