Ain't No Cure for the Sunday Night Blues

I got the blues. In more ways than one.

It's what happens when it's chilly and rainy all day. I was forced inside to do projects that frankly, I never got around to. My big accomplishment was whipping together my mint "dough" for graduation party treats.

Managed to get 100 blue roses done this evening. Will do the white diploma mints at a later time. I made sure to wear food service gloves while mixing and making so that I wouldn't get blue hands.

Had enough of that earlier in the day. A strange but true story...

So Carter gets up around 11 a.m. and tells me not to be alarmed, but... last night his hands were turning blue and it hurt in his chest to breathe. Uhm, OK. I won't be alarmed.

His fingers still had the bluish tint this morning and it hurt in his chest if he took really deep breaths. Not constant, just deep inhales. I would have waited for regular doctor hours tomorrow if it was just the hands that may not have had circulation. But you throw in the words "chest pain" and it's off to ER we go.

We were both surprisingly calm. It helped he wasn't in pain and didn't appear to be in need of urgent medical attention. Carter had Googled symptoms so he figured he had some vascular disease called Raynaud's. He was prepared to hear that. I was only calm because I had to be. Jim was still at church so I had to be the grownup.

Since Carter doesn't turn 18 for a week, they put him in a sort of pediatric ER room. (Or maybe it was all they had left.) He was a good boy, though, surviving exams, blood draws and a chest x-ray. While we waited we noticed that the room was painted by the Assumption High School Art Club years ago. Weird coincidence!

Aren't the paintings (and patient) cute?

Even the bed was kid-sized and his feet hung over the end. Totally reminds me of the Wizard of Oz and ruby slippers peeking out from under the house. Yes, I was thinking of weird things to keep the mind calm!

So long 3-hour story short, they didn't find anything. Good news is that he cleared all the tests for potential life-threatening possibilities. Bad news is that the doc didn't know what it could be. He told Carter, "You're a square peg and all I have is round holes." So we were sent on our way and we just have to keep an eye on it and hope it was some fluky thing that will just go away on its own.

Will take prayers. If there ain't no cure for the Sunday night blues, we hope there's at least one for Sunday night blue hands.