Bubbles in my IV

A Korean friend mentioned to me that there is a viral sickness going around this country that is worse than normal. The Korean newscasters have been talking about it for a few weeks. He only mentioned this because I have the bug. The Korean Krudd.
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The Krudd got bad enough that I finally went to the clinic. While there, I listed my symptoms on a sick call slip. It was a long list, but at the end I added receding hairline. When the nurse was going over my symptoms, there was no laugh. No chuckle. She looked at me in all seriousness and inquired about my hairline. I had to explain it was a joke, so the humor was lost.
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On to my "Brush with Death". I lay on the hospital bed with an IV in me. The Private First Class that was attending me and managing the IV set the drip at a fairly slow rate. I watched it drain slowly into my arm, referencing the clock on the wall quite often. I had a date with Gina. I was going to watch the kids, while she flew solo at the theater. Urgency overcame protocol, and I set the drip to a faster rate. Not much faster, though. Near the end of the first bag of Saline, the doctor came in and increased drip rate a little more. The bag emptied, and I stopped the fluid from draining as I watched the last of it course through the drip part of the tube, and into the long tube to my arm. When the PFC came to replace my IV, she didn't seem to care about the air in the IV line. This somewhat allayed my fears spawned by Hollywood. I have never researched the validity of someone dying from air bubbles injected into the bloodstream. I did, however, see it in a movie. I think.
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She replaced the IV and walked away, paying no great attention to the air in the line. I wouldn't be concerned by small amounts of air in the line, but I saw a section as long as the No. 2 pencils I used in grade school. The pocket of air coursed slowly toward my arm, and I watched the PFC walk out of the room. I figured that if there was truth to the matter, I was in a pretty good place to have any problems. I had a mental projection of my body- not a High Def 3D display, but something like the guy in the Operation game. I tried to think of what organ might let the air out of my system, or which organ would fail. This is all I had time to think as I watched the air enter my arm, and I wondered if I had made a mistake.
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Beat
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Beat
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My heart was still good, and I had no odd pains. Then I thought, what about my brain? I didn't have time for any great concern to build, though. I could hear the squeeking, popping sound of air bubbles passing through a tight space behind my right ear. Yes, my right and not my left. After the bubbles stopped making sound, I tried to see if my brain had been harmed. What was I going to do? Well, I felt the same. I feel just a sick as I did, but no worse in the brain. Of course I haven't tried my hand a higher math or philosophy, so I may yet be impaired.
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I researched the issue of air in the blood vessels, well after the fact. Small amounts are OK. Large amounts (someone said 5 cc) can cause an embolism. The replies to questions on the subject are many and varied, though. So, I don't even know if that little research I did was accurate. I do know two things... I had about 8 inches of air in my IV and introduced into my blood stream. I also heard squeeking sounds shortly thereafter.
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Having lived through my near Hollywood death, I sped up the IV drip once again. This time, I opened the valve all the way. I wasn't sure what a full bore IV drip would do to me... but there is nothing like a good experiment, eh?

Scottich Sponge Bread

Recently, I started a search for a specific recipe. It is a good, but uncommon recipe for bread called "Scottish Sponge Bread". My wife made it many times before I left Hawaii, and she forgot the recipe when she came to Korea three months later.
I suggested that she look online. Her reply was like a light switch turning on in my brain. She said, "Alpha said that I couldn't find it online." First, some background. I love Alpha. She is my wife's brother's wife. She is an only child raised liberally in California. Her upbringing was drastically different than that of mine, and of Gina. We don't always see eye to eye on little things like religion and politics. Hmm. I don't think there is much religiously or politically we agree on. This is ok, though. Family is family, and I try to accept others as they are. However, I did feel challenged when she mentioned that I could not do something. Very challenged.
I spent a little time on Google, and even used another search engine, in an exhaustive search using as many key word combinations as I could. I found a few websites all referencing a book, "Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book." No website had the actual recipe, but when I posted on someone's blog, she replied and happily gave it to me. Thank you, Maria.
Maria sent me the recipe, and I had my victory. What could be better than a personal victory to a challenge? Achieving that victory prior to my wife speaking with her brother again. To add a final touch, I also purchased the book online.