Another eleven days past, and I haven't been keeping up with my idea that these entries should be daily, and at least entered for about 30 minutes. Damn.
But, like so many things, that mission has been aborted in favor of the rage that continues to increase and take over my life, my entire existence.
The other day, I looked up a sample of the houses available for sale in Mead. Depressing. All those houses, beautiful, roomy, NICE! We could have had any of them had this house sold ten years ago, and her son and his fat-assed girlfriend/fat-assed wife didn't come through as promised. Waited for years for them to move on it, they said they were working on it, and THEY WERE LYING!!!
Fuck 'em!!!
Anyway, it make it very hard to write when I'm running the numbers and itemizing all the shit they have that I paid for!
I give up!
Friday, June 26, 2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
My Mind Recalls...
6-15-2015
The other day, at the local Wal-Mart, I again experienced one of life's truly frantic situations. We had just left a very satisfying lunch at the Taco Bell, (don't get ahead of me here!), and as bad luck would have it, the Mexican quisene seemed to be forcing a certain, uh, evacuative activity in the lower rear echelons of my body.
I excused myself from SWMBO, and made a beeline to the men's room at the front of the store; as sometimes happens, it was a VERY close call.
Let's say it was "clench and pray" time!
This time, as usual, I made it with just a bit of time to spare.
Luck has not always been with me, however.
We were living in Las Vegas, NV at the time in question.
First off, I need to apologize to an unamed cleaning person in Las Vegas; his name is unknown, but he will recognize himself when and if he reads this.
If memory serves, we had also just partaken of a meal at the restaurant on the same parking lot; but, this was before 'the problem' became chronic, or even urgent. That day was a first, a seminal moment, if you will.
Anyway, as it comes back, it seems that we were in the garden area, when the urgency seemed to make itself clearly known. I was closest to the back of the store, so hied myself back to the restrooms located in that area. As the wide doors came into view, I could see that there was an "Closed for Cleaning" sign on the men's room!
Well, I can PROBABLY make it to the one in front, right?
So, the ten mile trip to the front of the store began, as the pressure started to build really seriously, now. It's hard to walk so far with your butt cheeks clenched when internal forces are fighting your every muscle, even in light of frantic mental prayers went up with increasing urgency. "Please, God...".
It's really hard to look cool, too.
Anyway, there was no sign or cleaning cart at the oasis in the front of the store, so my spirits soared, even as my consciousness seemed to be fading, and my head started to swim and I broke into a very serious hard sweat.
I tried to walk around the corner into the bathroom as calmly and as sophisticated as I could, but once in, it was an undignified sprint to the empty stall; they were all empty, so there was no concern about offending anyone else in the can.
HALLELUJAH!
I ran in and slammed the door, locking it with one smooth fluid motion.
Have you ever had to 'go' so badly that you actually found yourself dancing as you tried frantically to loosen your belt, unsnap the jeans and lower the zipper? Hopping from foot to foot?
Well, I did, and things were beginning to REALLY get out of control. IT WAS TIME!!!
Quickly, the belt flew open, the snap was undone, and the zipper flew toward the earth at breakneck speed, as did my jeans and underware with them! In one undignified move, I was cleared of clothing and bent over like in a gym class exercise routine.
EVERYTHING CUT LOOSE as I lowered myself to the seat at breakneck speed; it all happened in less than a millisecond, if I recall correctly.
What a relief.
As the noise and foul discharge finally came to an end, I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from my brow, relaxed and tried to compose myself; it would be necessary to leave soon. And I was up for that!
First order of business was to check my underwear; it looked good; no mess to be embarrassed about! No need to worry about the back of my jeans attracting undue attention while I sought out SWMBO. After all, I had grey hair, and didn't want to give anyone a chance to pity my appearance: "Poor old man, Gina; look at the poor bugger. Hope he gets home OK."
So, after finishing up the paperwork, I stood and snuck a peek into the porcelain bowl.
What the heck?
It contained only the soiled paper!
Then, slowly I lifted my gaze a bit in realization, and saw why the bowl would not need to be cleaned: the discharge had never made it that far. Remember the 'bent over me'?
That's the point in time that the dam burst, if you will.
The wall behind the toilet, from about three feet up the wall to the back of the seat, bore an unbroken line of waste about four inches wide descending to the porcelain just inside the back of the bowl.
Sadly, the sensor in the wall, you know the one that tells the stall to flush because you're leaving when you move away from the throne? Well, that was pretty much deeply buried, so the thing couldn't flush and the whole sorry display had to await entry of the next poor bastard assigned to clean the restroom at Wal Mart.
It would be true kismet if he was the same guy who put up the "Closed for Cleaning" sign in the back of the store. Serves him right.
It was about three years before I could tell SWMBO the story, and I thought she would bust a gut laughing about it. In retrospect, it was funny; funny to me at the time, and enjoyed by SWMBO years later.
Now, when I have to leave her in Wal Mart, she always asks if I'm going to make it, and when I return, she says, "Well, you clean?"
Sure do love her...
The other day, at the local Wal-Mart, I again experienced one of life's truly frantic situations. We had just left a very satisfying lunch at the Taco Bell, (don't get ahead of me here!), and as bad luck would have it, the Mexican quisene seemed to be forcing a certain, uh, evacuative activity in the lower rear echelons of my body.
I excused myself from SWMBO, and made a beeline to the men's room at the front of the store; as sometimes happens, it was a VERY close call.
Let's say it was "clench and pray" time!
This time, as usual, I made it with just a bit of time to spare.
Luck has not always been with me, however.
We were living in Las Vegas, NV at the time in question.
First off, I need to apologize to an unamed cleaning person in Las Vegas; his name is unknown, but he will recognize himself when and if he reads this.
If memory serves, we had also just partaken of a meal at the restaurant on the same parking lot; but, this was before 'the problem' became chronic, or even urgent. That day was a first, a seminal moment, if you will.
Anyway, as it comes back, it seems that we were in the garden area, when the urgency seemed to make itself clearly known. I was closest to the back of the store, so hied myself back to the restrooms located in that area. As the wide doors came into view, I could see that there was an "Closed for Cleaning" sign on the men's room!
Well, I can PROBABLY make it to the one in front, right?
So, the ten mile trip to the front of the store began, as the pressure started to build really seriously, now. It's hard to walk so far with your butt cheeks clenched when internal forces are fighting your every muscle, even in light of frantic mental prayers went up with increasing urgency. "Please, God...".
It's really hard to look cool, too.
Anyway, there was no sign or cleaning cart at the oasis in the front of the store, so my spirits soared, even as my consciousness seemed to be fading, and my head started to swim and I broke into a very serious hard sweat.
I tried to walk around the corner into the bathroom as calmly and as sophisticated as I could, but once in, it was an undignified sprint to the empty stall; they were all empty, so there was no concern about offending anyone else in the can.
HALLELUJAH!
I ran in and slammed the door, locking it with one smooth fluid motion.
Have you ever had to 'go' so badly that you actually found yourself dancing as you tried frantically to loosen your belt, unsnap the jeans and lower the zipper? Hopping from foot to foot?
Well, I did, and things were beginning to REALLY get out of control. IT WAS TIME!!!
Quickly, the belt flew open, the snap was undone, and the zipper flew toward the earth at breakneck speed, as did my jeans and underware with them! In one undignified move, I was cleared of clothing and bent over like in a gym class exercise routine.
EVERYTHING CUT LOOSE as I lowered myself to the seat at breakneck speed; it all happened in less than a millisecond, if I recall correctly.
What a relief.
As the noise and foul discharge finally came to an end, I took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from my brow, relaxed and tried to compose myself; it would be necessary to leave soon. And I was up for that!
First order of business was to check my underwear; it looked good; no mess to be embarrassed about! No need to worry about the back of my jeans attracting undue attention while I sought out SWMBO. After all, I had grey hair, and didn't want to give anyone a chance to pity my appearance: "Poor old man, Gina; look at the poor bugger. Hope he gets home OK."
So, after finishing up the paperwork, I stood and snuck a peek into the porcelain bowl.
What the heck?
It contained only the soiled paper!
Then, slowly I lifted my gaze a bit in realization, and saw why the bowl would not need to be cleaned: the discharge had never made it that far. Remember the 'bent over me'?
That's the point in time that the dam burst, if you will.
The wall behind the toilet, from about three feet up the wall to the back of the seat, bore an unbroken line of waste about four inches wide descending to the porcelain just inside the back of the bowl.
Sadly, the sensor in the wall, you know the one that tells the stall to flush because you're leaving when you move away from the throne? Well, that was pretty much deeply buried, so the thing couldn't flush and the whole sorry display had to await entry of the next poor bastard assigned to clean the restroom at Wal Mart.
It would be true kismet if he was the same guy who put up the "Closed for Cleaning" sign in the back of the store. Serves him right.
It was about three years before I could tell SWMBO the story, and I thought she would bust a gut laughing about it. In retrospect, it was funny; funny to me at the time, and enjoyed by SWMBO years later.
Now, when I have to leave her in Wal Mart, she always asks if I'm going to make it, and when I return, she says, "Well, you clean?"
Sure do love her...
Saturday, June 13, 2015
It's the Weekend, again
6-13-2015
The slowest moving week in memory is coming to a close. The distance from last weekend seems to be a month long, and I'm glad it's here. SWMBO was getting really tired, and now that she has a couple of days off, it can only lead to good.
Right now, she's down about a mile away babysitting at the custom-built home with the three car garage and the seamless gutters, et. al.. How nice.
Seem that the Entitleds feel the need for another movie. How fucking nice.
Anyway, the boys and I are spending time in the yard, peeing, pooping and chasing balls. They seem to like it. The sprinkler is coming around, though, so time to stay in for now.
The lost receipt from O'C arrived to day, too. Now SWMBO is happy again! She needs that paperwork or she gets overly nervous.
I'd like to go out to the garage and restart some pens, but my wind is still not 100%, and with all the stuff that flies around and the acrylic odors, it's best not to go, yet. Darn. I miss it and would like to pour some more blanks. Health first, though.
I was able to get the grass cut yesterday, and tried to get it trimmed this AM before the sun got too high, but the battery dies, as the trimming is left after three cuttings. It's all charged, now, but the temp is just to high to even think about it. The amount I got done looks very nice, but the rest will have to wait, maybe until tomorrow.
I saw a video earlier about photography. It was about creating a black background, even in daylight. Use sync-speed, low ISO, and try about f11, or f16. That creates the blackness; now use a contained flash (floppy umbrella, for example) for creating a soft flash on you subject. Good with portraits. Brian Peterson also has a chapter about this very thing, as does Kelby.
My condition has really improved since meeting with O'C. I feel nearly 100% better, though there is still a way to go to complete recovery; it's encouraging.
Anyway, there is an atmosphere of quiet, and that feels good, too.
The slowest moving week in memory is coming to a close. The distance from last weekend seems to be a month long, and I'm glad it's here. SWMBO was getting really tired, and now that she has a couple of days off, it can only lead to good.
Right now, she's down about a mile away babysitting at the custom-built home with the three car garage and the seamless gutters, et. al.. How nice.
Seem that the Entitleds feel the need for another movie. How fucking nice.
Anyway, the boys and I are spending time in the yard, peeing, pooping and chasing balls. They seem to like it. The sprinkler is coming around, though, so time to stay in for now.
The lost receipt from O'C arrived to day, too. Now SWMBO is happy again! She needs that paperwork or she gets overly nervous.
I'd like to go out to the garage and restart some pens, but my wind is still not 100%, and with all the stuff that flies around and the acrylic odors, it's best not to go, yet. Darn. I miss it and would like to pour some more blanks. Health first, though.
I was able to get the grass cut yesterday, and tried to get it trimmed this AM before the sun got too high, but the battery dies, as the trimming is left after three cuttings. It's all charged, now, but the temp is just to high to even think about it. The amount I got done looks very nice, but the rest will have to wait, maybe until tomorrow.
I saw a video earlier about photography. It was about creating a black background, even in daylight. Use sync-speed, low ISO, and try about f11, or f16. That creates the blackness; now use a contained flash (floppy umbrella, for example) for creating a soft flash on you subject. Good with portraits. Brian Peterson also has a chapter about this very thing, as does Kelby.
My condition has really improved since meeting with O'C. I feel nearly 100% better, though there is still a way to go to complete recovery; it's encouraging.
Anyway, there is an atmosphere of quiet, and that feels good, too.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Ramblings...
6-12-2015
IN the last two days, I've had treatment from a real doctor, O'C, and feel so much better for the experience.
He prescribed Augmentin and a MDP, and that is a winning combination for me. I should have had those drugs five days prior, but the MA just didn't have the experience for confidence to order them, and I was too sick to argue with her. But all's well...that ends well...
Lots of crazy stuff going on in Spokane the last few days; the head of the local NAACP has been turning in several police reports about hate mail and threatening letters, carrying back to the time that she was working for some civil rights organization in CDA.
Now, the cops in Spokane can't find a perp, as the letters don't have a postmark or bar code. Curious. The employees at the Rosewood PO say that if they had seen it, they would have at least cancelled the postage on it, but they doubt that it could have gotten through the postal system without some marks indicating that. The employees (and the cops, I think) feel that the letter was most probably placed into the box from the door side. She denies it, though.
Anyway, now the story is all over: Drudge, GMA, London Daily Mail, Spokesman, CDA Press, and the Seattle Times.
To stir the pot even a little more, some reporters went ahead and contacted her parents, and found that the NAACP head is abually WHITE; she obviously uses a bronzer and kinks her hair, but the folks provided lots of growing up photos showing the blue-eyed, blond little gal from Troy, MT.
Another complication: when KXLY interviewed her, she just took off running when asked if she is really AA! Even left her purse and car keys behind with the reporter and the cameraman had to chase her down to return them! HA!
Today is Friday; it's about time. We were talking about how long the week has been; perhaps it's been the illness, but the time has dragged like never before, and it's good to see the end of the week coming.
SWMBO says that she wants to go take care of her grandkid tomorrow again, so I'll be alone again. I wanted to go tot he buffalo farm with Grace, but that's out now; since Grace's father is back, we can't really take the chance that he might want to go, too. So, the loss is minimal, I guess.
The doctor's office dropped the receipt I left there yesterday into the mail, so it should be here tomorrow, I'm guessing.
We have new neighbors moving in today; the LeGrew(s)(?). He's Cameron and she's Amy. They have two kids and he works at Les Schwab on Francis, and she works at Schweitzer Optical in the Valley somewhere.
Amy says that the kids may have to be bussed to school! WTF???
Seems that there are no openings at Meadowview! Go figure.
Finally go the lawn cut today; it was long, and still needs the trimming, but I can get that tomorrow.
When SWMBO goes to work, there is a very nice yellow daffodil bush in the parking lot; I must remember to take my camera and get some shots.
So, is photography starting to stir again. Dunno.
IN the last two days, I've had treatment from a real doctor, O'C, and feel so much better for the experience.
He prescribed Augmentin and a MDP, and that is a winning combination for me. I should have had those drugs five days prior, but the MA just didn't have the experience for confidence to order them, and I was too sick to argue with her. But all's well...that ends well...
Lots of crazy stuff going on in Spokane the last few days; the head of the local NAACP has been turning in several police reports about hate mail and threatening letters, carrying back to the time that she was working for some civil rights organization in CDA.
Now, the cops in Spokane can't find a perp, as the letters don't have a postmark or bar code. Curious. The employees at the Rosewood PO say that if they had seen it, they would have at least cancelled the postage on it, but they doubt that it could have gotten through the postal system without some marks indicating that. The employees (and the cops, I think) feel that the letter was most probably placed into the box from the door side. She denies it, though.
Anyway, now the story is all over: Drudge, GMA, London Daily Mail, Spokesman, CDA Press, and the Seattle Times.
To stir the pot even a little more, some reporters went ahead and contacted her parents, and found that the NAACP head is abually WHITE; she obviously uses a bronzer and kinks her hair, but the folks provided lots of growing up photos showing the blue-eyed, blond little gal from Troy, MT.
Another complication: when KXLY interviewed her, she just took off running when asked if she is really AA! Even left her purse and car keys behind with the reporter and the cameraman had to chase her down to return them! HA!
Today is Friday; it's about time. We were talking about how long the week has been; perhaps it's been the illness, but the time has dragged like never before, and it's good to see the end of the week coming.
SWMBO says that she wants to go take care of her grandkid tomorrow again, so I'll be alone again. I wanted to go tot he buffalo farm with Grace, but that's out now; since Grace's father is back, we can't really take the chance that he might want to go, too. So, the loss is minimal, I guess.
The doctor's office dropped the receipt I left there yesterday into the mail, so it should be here tomorrow, I'm guessing.
We have new neighbors moving in today; the LeGrew(s)(?). He's Cameron and she's Amy. They have two kids and he works at Les Schwab on Francis, and she works at Schweitzer Optical in the Valley somewhere.
Amy says that the kids may have to be bussed to school! WTF???
Seems that there are no openings at Meadowview! Go figure.
Finally go the lawn cut today; it was long, and still needs the trimming, but I can get that tomorrow.
When SWMBO goes to work, there is a very nice yellow daffodil bush in the parking lot; I must remember to take my camera and get some shots.
So, is photography starting to stir again. Dunno.
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Another day...
Well, my approaching death seems to be slowing a bit; I feel somewhat better, but still suffer from uncontrollable cough, hacking and sore throat.I wonder what the X-ray from yesterday had to say, as the assurance from O'C's office was that they would call me yesterday afternoon; but, they haven't yet. Sue did call about my appointment for tomorrow, though. I'll talk to a real doctor then.
The plan for today was to get back from Deer Park by about 8:30AM in order for Caleb to evaluate the darned door problem. The blinds get stuck about 1/3 of the way up and the lever seems to disengage, falling to the bottom of the track.
He showed up at about 9:30 (no problem; he called at 8:15AM) and agreed that there was something wrong with the mechanism; he suggested replacing the one panel, a remedy that sounds just fine.
SWMBO is feeling chest pains today; she thinks it's gastric (thank goodness) as it is somewhat relieved with antacids. Since it started just today, she's probably right.
It was surprising to see Shanna Love at Fred Meyer's today; my name came flying across the parking lot as I was leaving the store with the day's victuals. She retired in 2006, and now she and Don have their inventory business on the side, and that's it. She was getting stuff for her granddaughter's sports meet later today.
She also told me that Thayne Whitehead had passed away recently; it had been in the paper the other day. He was an old Spokane pharmacist, and a really nice fella. He sold the People's Rx chain to Rick Fike several years ago, the chain that became Medicine Shoppe.
When I passed the news on to Dana Fike, she had already heard the news from Cindy Grimes yesterday.
When taking the dogs out earlier, it occurred to me that the grass, while getting longer, was in need of some hydration; so, Quin and I went into the back yard and started the sprinklers while he got his exercise with his blue ball.
I watched Grace yesterday; she left school early and had to come her to rest and have a little bit of snack before we went to get SWMBO; we met Toehead and had a quick dinner at Wendy's. Grace was pretty much recovered, and seemed to be healthy enough to go back to school this morning.
Speaking of morning, the usual quiet was shattered by seven sirens over a ten minute period headed north on US 2.
Seems that there had been a shooting somewhere north in Colbert, quite close to Grace's school. Some woman had put a bullet into her stepfather, and was chased down by the cops and arrested for attempted 1st degree murder. Lousy was to start the day!
It's going on noon, so, it's time to scramble for lunch.
UPDATE: O'C's office called and said that the CXR from yesterday was normal. HA! Then perhaps her Dx is off. Could she have missed something? We'll see.
The plan for today was to get back from Deer Park by about 8:30AM in order for Caleb to evaluate the darned door problem. The blinds get stuck about 1/3 of the way up and the lever seems to disengage, falling to the bottom of the track.
He showed up at about 9:30 (no problem; he called at 8:15AM) and agreed that there was something wrong with the mechanism; he suggested replacing the one panel, a remedy that sounds just fine.
SWMBO is feeling chest pains today; she thinks it's gastric (thank goodness) as it is somewhat relieved with antacids. Since it started just today, she's probably right.
It was surprising to see Shanna Love at Fred Meyer's today; my name came flying across the parking lot as I was leaving the store with the day's victuals. She retired in 2006, and now she and Don have their inventory business on the side, and that's it. She was getting stuff for her granddaughter's sports meet later today.
She also told me that Thayne Whitehead had passed away recently; it had been in the paper the other day. He was an old Spokane pharmacist, and a really nice fella. He sold the People's Rx chain to Rick Fike several years ago, the chain that became Medicine Shoppe.
When I passed the news on to Dana Fike, she had already heard the news from Cindy Grimes yesterday.
When taking the dogs out earlier, it occurred to me that the grass, while getting longer, was in need of some hydration; so, Quin and I went into the back yard and started the sprinklers while he got his exercise with his blue ball.
I watched Grace yesterday; she left school early and had to come her to rest and have a little bit of snack before we went to get SWMBO; we met Toehead and had a quick dinner at Wendy's. Grace was pretty much recovered, and seemed to be healthy enough to go back to school this morning.
Speaking of morning, the usual quiet was shattered by seven sirens over a ten minute period headed north on US 2.
Seems that there had been a shooting somewhere north in Colbert, quite close to Grace's school. Some woman had put a bullet into her stepfather, and was chased down by the cops and arrested for attempted 1st degree murder. Lousy was to start the day!
It's going on noon, so, it's time to scramble for lunch.
UPDATE: O'C's office called and said that the CXR from yesterday was normal. HA! Then perhaps her Dx is off. Could she have missed something? We'll see.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Al Bundy is my hero
In case you didn't know, several years ago, Fox network came into being.
Their show line up consisted of news, and a few cutting-edge shows, as I recall.
One of them was "Married With Children", the lead character being Al Bundy, a forlorn salesman of women's shoes.
Nothing ever went right for Al, and he never had enough money, his wife and kids spending it faster than he could make it.
One of the things that I remember about Al Bundy was his view of the world; when asked something for which he didn't care, he'd answer, "Don't know, don't care". It was a throw away phrase that served him well.
I find myself using that line more and more, as I really don't give a shit about hardly anything anymore.
Retirement ruined, the rest of my life in shambles, unable to help my wife who had to go back to work so that her son and his fatassed wife can have more than we can.
Her job has been such a fuck up for several months. Her supervisor, who lies with negroes, has been making her life miserable so that nigger lover can appoint one of her favorite suck ups to the lead position, the job for which my wife was hired.
Fortunately, the wife got a new job the other day, in another branch of the same company, and now I can hopefully get some sleep, money rage notwithstanding.
The new clinic is twice the distance, but can be reached by highway instead of driving through town and having schools, pedestrians and stop lights get in the way.
So, hopefully, it will be a good move overall.
Their show line up consisted of news, and a few cutting-edge shows, as I recall.
One of them was "Married With Children", the lead character being Al Bundy, a forlorn salesman of women's shoes.
Nothing ever went right for Al, and he never had enough money, his wife and kids spending it faster than he could make it.
One of the things that I remember about Al Bundy was his view of the world; when asked something for which he didn't care, he'd answer, "Don't know, don't care". It was a throw away phrase that served him well.
I find myself using that line more and more, as I really don't give a shit about hardly anything anymore.
Retirement ruined, the rest of my life in shambles, unable to help my wife who had to go back to work so that her son and his fatassed wife can have more than we can.
Her job has been such a fuck up for several months. Her supervisor, who lies with negroes, has been making her life miserable so that nigger lover can appoint one of her favorite suck ups to the lead position, the job for which my wife was hired.
Fortunately, the wife got a new job the other day, in another branch of the same company, and now I can hopefully get some sleep, money rage notwithstanding.
The new clinic is twice the distance, but can be reached by highway instead of driving through town and having schools, pedestrians and stop lights get in the way.
So, hopefully, it will be a good move overall.
Sick, again...
Hell.
I've been laid low for almost two weeks now with what has been diagnosed as "bronchitis" by a gal who really must be new out of MA school. She's just to timid to work up a real treatment plan that would get me better.
In the past, I saw my doctor for this problem and was prescribed a course of antibiotics, a dose-pack and an expectorant, perhaps, depending.
This time, little Miss Timid is scared to order the dose-pack (a true miracle drug), because of my diltiazem. Seems that the diltiazem may increase the level of the steroid, which might effect my warfarin. SO WHAT??? I can fix that. Just decrease the warfarin for a few days and all is well in the world. It's really no big deal. Miss Timid had better get cracking or she's going to spend her professional career as a slave to theoretical considerations. Maybe with experience, who knows? In the mean, here I sit coughing like a 1939 Packard on cheap gas.
Anyhoo, I called and asked that she order a chext X-ray for me, as I feel that there is more going on than she anticipated. She'll call back. I hope.
She actually had the 'interaction' between the diltiazem and steroid backward, insisting that the diltiazem would be impaired. Wrong. When asked for an explanation how that worked, she just answered, "That's just what it does". Amateur!
Compounding the problem, SWMBO is not getting any decent sleep, either. It really makes me sad, because, even though I offered to sleep downstairs on the couch, she wouldn't hear of it. That's her. Then, she has to get up at 5AM and go to work by 8AM. I drive her to her work site, but still, she works until 5PM, and it takes a lot out of her.
It hasn't been possible to turn any pens lately; just haven't had any energy, and the temp has gotten into the high 90's, which is pretty hot, even in the shaded garage, so...
There are several kits I'd like to turn and assemble, but it isn't going to happen soon, for sure.
The darned yard continues to grow; that Weed n' Feed treatment is really coming back to bite me in the tookas; can't even think about riding around in all that chaff.
The garden seems to be really exploding! Cucumbers, strawberries, white onions, beets, carrots, radishes and green onions all coming along very nicely. It should be a good summer for veggies.
We finally got the new vinyl slider installed on the back deck yesterday; it looks great, and is much smoother than the old aluminum one it replaces. While there is one adjustment to be made on the slider part curtain raiser, we're pretty happy with it.
Still pissed about living here, though; we deserve much better.
I've been laid low for almost two weeks now with what has been diagnosed as "bronchitis" by a gal who really must be new out of MA school. She's just to timid to work up a real treatment plan that would get me better.
In the past, I saw my doctor for this problem and was prescribed a course of antibiotics, a dose-pack and an expectorant, perhaps, depending.
This time, little Miss Timid is scared to order the dose-pack (a true miracle drug), because of my diltiazem. Seems that the diltiazem may increase the level of the steroid, which might effect my warfarin. SO WHAT??? I can fix that. Just decrease the warfarin for a few days and all is well in the world. It's really no big deal. Miss Timid had better get cracking or she's going to spend her professional career as a slave to theoretical considerations. Maybe with experience, who knows? In the mean, here I sit coughing like a 1939 Packard on cheap gas.
Anyhoo, I called and asked that she order a chext X-ray for me, as I feel that there is more going on than she anticipated. She'll call back. I hope.
She actually had the 'interaction' between the diltiazem and steroid backward, insisting that the diltiazem would be impaired. Wrong. When asked for an explanation how that worked, she just answered, "That's just what it does". Amateur!
Compounding the problem, SWMBO is not getting any decent sleep, either. It really makes me sad, because, even though I offered to sleep downstairs on the couch, she wouldn't hear of it. That's her. Then, she has to get up at 5AM and go to work by 8AM. I drive her to her work site, but still, she works until 5PM, and it takes a lot out of her.
It hasn't been possible to turn any pens lately; just haven't had any energy, and the temp has gotten into the high 90's, which is pretty hot, even in the shaded garage, so...
There are several kits I'd like to turn and assemble, but it isn't going to happen soon, for sure.
The darned yard continues to grow; that Weed n' Feed treatment is really coming back to bite me in the tookas; can't even think about riding around in all that chaff.
The garden seems to be really exploding! Cucumbers, strawberries, white onions, beets, carrots, radishes and green onions all coming along very nicely. It should be a good summer for veggies.
We finally got the new vinyl slider installed on the back deck yesterday; it looks great, and is much smoother than the old aluminum one it replaces. While there is one adjustment to be made on the slider part curtain raiser, we're pretty happy with it.
Still pissed about living here, though; we deserve much better.
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