I’m Irish. If you couldn’t tell by the hint of red in my hair and the overwhelming freckles, now you know for sure. Saint Patrick’s Day has always made for happy and fun memories in my life. Growing up, we always, ALWAYS wore green and had a family party of some sort. When we were really little, my mom even died our hair green for the occasion.
Today I had to go to a doctor’s appointment. It was a doctor who openly admitted she had never heard of POTS and didn’t know what it was. It was funny, at one point she was looking over my chart and looked at my vitals. She said, “oh, your heart rate is a little high.” I wanted to show off a trick and stand up. WATCH THIS, you think that’s high?! I can beat that in seconds. Anyways, that will make more sense when she researches that whole POTS nonsense I was babbling about.
They stole blood from me, but made sure that I left in style.
I have been to Ireland twice in my travels. The first time we were in Dublin and Cork. The second trip included Cork, Dublin, Waterford, and the Dingle Peninsula. Ireland evokes fond memories, but I’ve always said they are better at drinking than eating. In my opinion, it’s not the best food. I’ve never been a fan of corned beef and cabbage. On the flip side I’ve always been a fan of Bailey’s Irish Cream.
It’s hard to pick just one moment that is my favorite from Ireland, but this story just always makes me laugh. We were riding in a taxi in Dublin. Let me point out that the driver had an accent that made it hard to decipher a lot of his words. (In this situation, my brother would have told him that he only speaks English, not understanding that he was in fact speaking English. Every foreign place I’ve been with my brother this has happened on numerous occasions). Anyways, we were asking him about Guinness. He laughed and said, well I’m Irish so I have had at least one obligatory pint. I was confused. Wait, does he not like Guinness or does he not drink? He continued by saying that he does drink, but he doesn’t prefer Guinness. He said that he and his family have found a beer that they love to drink at all of their get-togethers. He said, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. It’s called Coor’s Light.” He pronounced it very slowly giving me the best odds to understand what he was saying. Yes, I’ve heard of that one.
My grandfather is very, very Irish. Well today he was telling me a story about an Irish bar he used to go to in San Francisco. Apparently one time a gentleman came into the bar and when he found out that they only had Irish whiskey, he turned his glass upside down. You can imagine the outrage this caused. He said everyone was so mad that they had to have a fight to determine who got to then fight the one who disrespected Irish whiskey. That’s so perfectly Irish. Having a fight about who gets to have a fight. Fitting, and I love it.
Here’s a picture of my grandpa and I on top of the Blarney Castle.
Go find some joy and some green tonight and do your best to stay conscious, both those with POTS and those drinking green beer!