JUST WAITING

As I really don't have much of anything to outside today, I think I'll just stay in and pamper my right leg and harrass my lawyer.
I finally called the Vascular Surgeon and he sounded a little surprised that I had the results back so soon. He might be one of the top in his field in the country but he obviously has no idea what it means to have a hospital wired! The test was originally scheduled for Dec. 5 but we got it moved up and picked up the results rather than wait for the mail. I just faxed them to him and am now waiting to hear when the rotorooter will be done. He did say that the anesthesiologist will want to see me, and I told him that my right leg is in no shape for me to be driving there and back and then all over again. We're going to find out if I can go in maybe a day earlier. or very early on the day. The leg is so bad that I don't even want to drive to my orthopedic doc to have it shot. That's bad. Real bad. I just kind of want to get the rotorooter done before anything else.
Dem Der has gone out to get his Cripple Allowance and should be back soon.
I was wandering around a really cool site about Maine Jewery and found a very distant family connection between us. After all this, we're related, if distantly!
I also found a connection to another family I've known all my life but never knew about that connection. It's quite fun rummaging around that site. That last one lead to links to several other people I've known forever but never knew there was a connection, however distant.
I think I'll go back there and do some more looking as soon as I get the pile of rubbish bags in the kitchen hauled out to the big bin.

SURVIVED ANOTHER DAY

I may have gotten through this morning errands but a patient at my clinic almost didn't. After going to the butcher, bank, and to Lavana's (to give her the electrickery bill), I went to the clinic to have my doctor translate the heart test stuff. For someone who's had an MI and two stents it's actually pretty good! There are no signs of insuffiency, or any other possible nasties.
The law here states that wheely patients don't wait in line to see the doc. The previous person comes out, the wheely goes in. While I was waiting, a gal limped in and the nurse figured she'd need an X ray and should go in next. Even though it was pretty obvious that she only had a sprain (she was walking on it) I agreed to let her go in. Then one of the local locos arrived, and made a scene to be next. She was really off her rocker, so I let her in too. What was I supposed to do? Tell them all "Sorry, my whole body is srained?" when all I wanted was to go over some test results? My new lumps and bumps WERE yelling at me, but, I can take it, sort of. At least I roll in on my very own seat.
Then, I stopped in at the butcher and picked up some lovely steaks with bones for me and Peg. I'll have to call the vascular guy to find out if I can just fax him the results or if I have to go there again. I'd really like to just fax them as driving is painful enough without all the new stuff.
In fact, I'm taking all the hurts and bruises to bed right now.

THAT WAS NOT AN EARTHQUACKE

That earth tremor was just me falling. I went up to Safed to get Dem Der and my heart test results, and stupidly didn't take the time to straighten my left ankle before coming back down. I did sit in the car with that foot flat on the ground, but obviously not long enough. I tried to walk around the wheely in my room, but the ankle went into it's usual drop foot mode and down I went. I just sat there for a few minutes taking it in, then started laughing. Poor Dem Der's face was a study. He's actually in worse shape that I am. As he stood and I sat there, trying to figure out how to get me up I got a bad case of the giggles. No way were the two of us evergoing to get me up. After a bit of a rest and a cigarrette, I heard some of my neighbor's kids outside and started yelling her name. She came running and tried to haul me up. That got us nowhere fast so she went off looking for muscles while I sat there on the floor laughing my fool head off and Dem Der fretted.
She rounded up her husband and four other guys who managed to haul me up into a sitting position on the end of the bed. They couldn't use the usual techniques as that collar bone is disconnected and hurt like hell from the fall. It took a hit from my dresser.
I managed to stand up and get to the loo.Then, I went to the grocery store and my mail box.
Oh, am I ever going to be beautifully colored tomorrow. I'm sore, but whole.
Yefim was here this morning and with a wave of his hand got NHT moving again. Granted he had a screw driver in his hand.
I think it might be a good idea to take all my new aches and pains to bed before I can't.
See? Told you it wasn't an earthquacke!

MOVIE CATCH UP

What is it with me and movies? There are so many movies it's taken me years to get around to seeing. The worst was Arsenic and Old Lace. It took over 20 years and two failed attempts to see it all the way through just once. I have never forgotten those two attempts. The first was when I was just a kid. It was on a Sunday and I cut my Sunday skating short in order to be home in time to watch it with my mother who had been talking about it with great anticipation all the preceeding week. We got to see the first part before my father and brother demanded another channel. I was furious, but couldn't do much about it. That was back in the days when having one TV was still a luxury. I filed that movie as a must see in the dark recesses of my mind. My next chance to see it was here in Israel, several months after we got here. It was on fairly late at night and I was babysitting for friend's kids at my place. I settled in to watch it but fell asleep before the end. That quite infuriated me. Twice I'd missed the ending. The 3rd time (3rd time lucky) was a few years ago. I finally got to not only watch it through to the end, I even managed to get it on video and see it at least 4 more times. Yes, it was well worth the wait.
Moving right along, another movie I've been wanting to watch was Pretty in Pink. So many of my friends told me about it that it got moved pretty high up on my 'to see' list. Last night it was on TV here and I stayed up really really late to see it. It was ok for a girly tear jerker, but I kept comparing the movie to my own high school years and it made me realize yet again what a wonderful town I grew up in. My real life high school was completely different to the movie high school. It was much less cliquey even though were probably more 'rich kids' in my school. Never ever was anyone snubbed for their parents economic status. There wasn't a parent among them who would have stood for that kind of discrimination. I'm not saying that it was 100% ideal, but no one was ever left out of anything because of money. Like minded kids did hang out together but it was never based on social standing or money. How things changed in just a few short years is amazing. I don't think I'd have liked that school or town one little bit. Strange how so many didn't understand that kids are just kids. Ok, one guy got it, but the others just went their elite way. I'll have to ask Dem Der how it was in Bangor. I suspect that it was pretty much the same there as it was in Brunswick. Of course there were so few really wealthy families in town that their kids wouldn't have anyone to be friends with if they were social snobs because there just weren't enough of them. The few really wealthy familes were indeed very wealthy, very very very wealthy, but the kids were all down to earth types who never put on airs.
I am so thankful that I grew up there.

IT'S RAINING IT'S POURING

I absolutely love stormy weather. It's been raining up here since yesterday morning. The only thing that bothers me about it is that I have to get all bundled up in my rain kit to take Peg out. As it was bucketing down most of the day, with the occasional lightning and thunder show I made the poor baby wait for a break. When there was finally a break and things had settled down to a drizzle I got kitted up and we went out to go walkies with New Harley Too. NHT refused to budge so Peg ended up doing his business in the mud patch that he could reach while on his lead and I sat in the drizzle for a few minutes on NHT. I was most displeased, to put it mildly. That was the first time I've ever had trouble with a Harley in the rain. It had damn well better be the last too.
I called Afikim first thing this morning and told the new person who answered the phone to get Yefim up here PDQ to either fix Harley or take Peg walkies. Yefim should be here any minute. The new person called me back to ask if Harley was connected to his charger. Yeah, I know they don't go when they are connected. I also am not stupid enough to connect him during a storm. I've only had Harleys since 1999. I think I have pretty good idea of the basics.
Great news on the Dem Der front. They've approved a flat for him in Safed and sent the thing off to have a doctor approve a ground floor flat for him, so, I should have my house back to myself in a month or so. Not that he's been a bother. He hasn't, but I much prefer living alone.
Not much else is new except that Teadrinker seemingly decided that enough time has gone by for me to forgive her unforgivable behavior in September. It hasn't and most likely there's not enough time from now to eternity for me to forgive her. It's always all about her, her troubles and problems and she never ever takes the time to listen to mine, and is never even interested enough to stop in here. If she was, and had stopped in here, she would know that I have more than enough on my plate with Dem Der and the rotorooter. So, last night she just kept calling and calling and refused to get the message when I kept hanging up on her. There really are limits and she's gone way past mine.
Back when she called and asked me to come down there because she had to go to hospital, I put myself in the car and drove there without insurance. My car is not insured for driving on the Sabbath, but, for her I did it. Going up and down her cement path finished my right knee and it has been very painful since then. She even had the nerve to bitch about me leaving 2 glasses not in the sink and that her bed smelled of smoke. And she hung up on me when I called to see how she was doing after hitting me with the full litany of grievances including having to buy me fags. SHE HUNG UP ON ME, and then comes crawling back without so much as stopping in here to see what's going on. And expected me to actually give a flying F about her. Not likely.

ONE DOWN ONE TO GO

Right! Tha idiot heart stress test is over and I didn't understand what went on all. When it was finally my turn, a very competent gal slipped a vent in my arm and shw's even better than the nurse at my clinic. While she was doing that I could hear the person ahead of my pounding her way to nowhere on the treadmill. Boy was she huffing and puffing. She staggered out all breathless and red in the face. My turn! First the checked my blood pressure which was sky high for me. 130/95. Then they started shooting the stuff in. They stopped when I got to 125 after asking how I felt. I felt just fine and was breathing normally, even though the sound effects sounded like I was practically sprinting. Another blood pressure check and it was back to almost normal for me.119/80. I understood that what they try to do is get the heart rate up to 80% of the maximum which is around 146. I have no idea why they stopped at 126 when I was still breathing normally. Oh, well, I'll find out soon enough! Then, on to the glow in the dark part of the thing. They have two machines in the room and the poor techie tried to put me on one that was wide enough for a young anorexic child. Nope. Not going to do that so I waited for the one that adult size. Then the poor guy tells me I have to hold both arms abovr my head for 14 minutes. Um, yeah, right. He doesn't know that my left collar bone is disconnected at the outer end. I was pretty much crying from the pain 8 minutes into it. That's going to be one accurate test (not). Then he shot me with the glow in the dark stuff and to wait. The second time around was much shorter and stopped before I got to the crying part.
Now all I have to do is wait for the results.
Ah, what a joy it was to get home. I was asleep almost before getting into bed. Yesterday I went out for a quick check at the mail box, and to buy some houmus, then, just vegged across from the TV. Today it's raining and it's supposed to really storm tomorrow so I think I'll head into town in a bit, then come home to settle in for the storm.

And, now, I will post a brief history of my various and assorted hospital scarpers.

The Gimp wonders how much money she has saved the universal health care system in Israel with her early hospital check out plan.
The gimp also wonders if yet another chapter will be added to her Book of Hospital Scarpers.
I hope so. But, if not, just thought I'd post some things Peppermint, er, Mrs. Pepperhawk personally requested.
I do not do hospitals well at all. There was only ever one time when I stayed for the whole time. And I stayed only because I simply could not leave physically. Oh, I threatened, but stayed until they transferred me to the rehab hospital, from which I did in fact scarper a full month before they wanted me to leave.
My first ever scarper was in 1994 when I had the platinum plate removed from my shoulder. The katyusha that knocked me off the motorcycle in 1996 gets all the credit. I was yelling "I want out" the very next day and they let me go because I assured them that someone was indeed coming from Kiryat Shmonah to get me. How much you want to bet they would have put me in a padded room if I'd told them that I meant the bus driver? After signing all the relevant AMA releases I caught a bus back home and the driver was actually from K.S. He took a curve badly and the next day there was a faint line of blood on the dressing, and after a day or two it started to smell. Yes it was summer. I went to the clinic and asked the nurse to change the dressing which she refused to do because the ortho surgeon gets really angry if his dressings are changed. My solution to the situation was to rip it off myself and dare her to not put a new on. When I went to the doc to have the stitches out he did get very angry at the nurse. But I told him that *I* ripped it off and left the nurse with only one workable choice. When he'd calmed down he asked if I wanted to take the stitches out too? Well, yeeaah. I grabbed the suture cutter, and the thing that pulls them up, went to the mirror and took them out. He cleaned up the scabs and minor blood leaks, then put on a smaller bandage and sent me home. Sadly he has since passed away.
My next scarper was in 1998 from rehab after my stroke. I just wanted to go home, so I signed the AMA papers again and went home. Enough is enough.

The post heart attack scarper was probably the best of all. I was sitting at the computer, happily reading and answering e mails when both arms started to hurt, I broke out in a cold sweat and felt a little nauseous and a tightness in my chest. When it didn't go right away I went back to my bed, had a cigarette and waited a few minutes to see if it let up. When it didn't, I called the ambulance folks and described the symptoms. They were here in minutes with an IC ambulance that was donated by someone in the town where my father had lived (and dies) and a doctor who confirmed my diagnosis. They promptly hauled me off to hospital where I found myself in the cardiac cath room within 10 minutes of arriving and having two stents put in. From there to the brand new CICU where I behaved myself for two days. On the third day they had to send out search parties to find me as I was rolling myself all over the hospital from sheer bordom. On the fourth day they decided to move me to the intermediate care unit and I decided it was time to go home. I called a friend and asked him to come up and help me spring myself from there. He did, I signed yet another set of AMA papers, and home I went.
For my next trick a few years later, my new sawbones put some spikes in the toes of my left foot. They were painfully bent down from the stroke, and nothing I tried would straighten those toes so we decided on the spikes. I went home the next day even though he wanted me there for t least two more. That time I had a proper ride home with a stop at KFC. This new sawbones even let me pull the spikes out of my toes.
As the 'spike Franne' plan didn't exactly work, we decided to move right on to Plan C which was cutting the recalcitrant toes' first two joints off. That was done in a different hospital and I almost cancelled an hour before. I just didn't like the feel of the place. It annoyed me that 3 different nurses asked the same questions. I guess it's too complicated to have just one nurse ask all the questions one time only. So, all the stupid toes got themselves cut back, leaving one whole toe on my left foot. The gimp was ready to go home. I demanded a cigarette before letting them put me in bed after the cutbacks so I was rolled onto a balcony where I promptly announced my intention to spend the night right there. A few phone calls later about the difficult gimp and I was on my way home that same night.
I am now wondering how long I'll stay in after the carotid rotorootering. The Gimp wonders if maybe there should be some kind of rebate progrram for patients who save the system so much money on the early check out plan?

A BIG TEST TODAY

I've never really been one to sweat tests. I either pass or fail, but today's is a bit different in that it's not exactly in a classroom with multiple guess questions and failing isn't an option. I'm as ready for it as I can be. I've done everything on the preparation list, so all that's left is getting there on time and not freaking out.
We've been having more than a few crazed giggles at the thought of a mix up and them expecting me to get on a treadmill. Yeah, right. I rather doubt that anyone has gotten on one while in a wheely, but that's the only way I can. I'll have to have Dem Der on standby with the camera just in case.
That's it for now. I have one more important thing to do before getting dressed. If all goes well (and I fully expect it to) I'll be back with another post afterwards.

HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?

It's not exactly news to my three faithful readers that I've been having serious toubles with my bank account. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but they seem to be over for now. I've been sweating a check that has to be paid today and I was pretty sure there would be trouble with it. My solution to that was to get a copy of the release I signed for the insurance company to pay me 2,000 for being purple for two months. As it turned out, I'm just fine at the bank. Getting rid of all those monthly payments for the flower shop and Orna helped a lot. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the reason for it. There's even enough to take out a little today.
I did it! I clawed my way out what could have been disastrous and an even bigger stress factory. I'm out of the Sagron family clutches! I'm chuffed to put it mildly.
And just to make things even better, Child Genius was here yesterday for a short visit and he changed that pesky light bulb in the ptopeler AND fixed my e mail! I'm now happily back at Thunderbird and off my server's webmail. Happy gimp. Smiling Gimp.

NEW KITCHEN CHAIR

To most normal people, a kitchen chair is usually one that goes with a kitchen table. To me, it is now an office type swivelly chair for me to sit on while trying to make something to eat in one of the world's strangest kitchens. I love my kitchen. It's so small that everything is in reach from where I used to stand! I could just reach out and whatever I wanted was right there. It is also small enough so that I really couldn't fall over. Now that I can't stand long enough to even fry an egg, or wait for the electric kettle to almost boil for coffee, and need a chair in there, the only things I have to stand up to get are in the either the cupboard or pantry. It works for me. The chair has to swivel so that I can just swing a bit to get things from the counter to the stove top or oven. The wheely wasn't doing the job for me because it took up too much room and was very hard to turn in that tiny space.
Moshe brought the chair over in the afternoon and I'll run the check out to him in a while. I do admit to being chuffed at not having to pay on the spot. That doesn't happen very often in this country, but there are still several stores in town that will let me get away with that.
It's nice to have the computer chair back here. The wheely really wasn't working here either. Wheelies are only good for what they are meant to do. Rolling from place to place. The Gimp House living room now looks like a wheely parking lot. It's a good thing that it's mostly just me and Peg living here, though I suspect that Peg is trying to figure out a way to give at least one of the wheelies a parking ticket. That would be the one parked in such a way to block him from wriggling into the space behind the fridge so that his hair won't clog the whatsit of the fridge. But he can get up on his chair, so that's ok.
I don't have much to do today. Just a quick run into town to get something from my insurance guy, buy fags, give Moshe his check and maybe go grocery shopping. I don't know what Dem Der has planned, but with a little luck he'll be here to help bring the goeceries in. I also must, absolutely must take the car for a quick run. It's been over a week since I last used it and it does like it's exercise.
Yefim was here yesterday and adjusted New Harley Too's handle bars and swapped the wheels from Harley Too to New Harley Too, so, no more worries about checking the air pressure or getting a flat. The ride is not noticably rougher and I am most pleased. He told me what to say to the gal who make the service call list so that he would be able to not charge me. Of course the nudnik neighbor had to ask what he was here for and if it really was worth it to bring him up here just for that. I was sorely tempted to say that it was a 'no charge' call, but that's the last thing we need. If his bosses ever found out that he didn't charge me for the last two times he was up here, he would be in big trouble, so I just said that it was an 'under waranty' call, even though it really wasn't.

GETTING A GRIP

Yesterday I ended up staying in all day and spent way too much time at the computer. That was a really bad idea as the wheely I have in here is uncomfortable in the extreme. I will get a new chair today no matter what. Something wonderful happened one of the times I went to the loo. When sitting down, there was a cracking noise in my right hip (like when you crack your knuckles) and when I got up it hurt a lot less to walk. It's still better this morning. Not pain free, mind you, but better. I can stand walking on it now. So, yeah, that can wait until I find out whether I survive the rotorooter or not.
I'm feeling a lot better about it today. Dem Der and a few other friends have really helped me get my head around it.
I "got" Dem Der yesterday. I asked very meekly if I could 'take advantage' of him, and after he stopped stopped sputtering, asked what I had in mind. All I wanted was a refill of my water bottle which he promptly refilled.
At some point he decided to go out for some fresh air and to replace the only can opener I could use that he broke. I told him that I've had a desperate craving for spaghetti lately so he got some ground beef and made a nice sauce. I thought for a while that he wouldn't survive the process as he kept asking if I like it this way or that way, with this or the other ingredient. I was on the verge of losing it with him, but made do with a mild roar to just make it already. He did and it was great. Sheesh, why couldn't he just make it without all those questions. Ok, ok, he just wanted to to be the way I like it. But it's spaghetti sauce, not rocket science. Poor guy gets really annoyed with me when I get up to fetch something rather than ask him to do it. He can't quite understand that I've lived alone for so long that I'm used to doing for myself and will have to again when he leaves. Yesterday when I got up to go to the loo he asked if he do whatever it was I was going to do for me. Even he laughed when I told him that I rather doubted he could go pee for me, but he was welcome to try!
Just this minute got some wonderful news. Yefim, New Harley Too's mechanic is on his was here to make a few adjustments and change the tires over to the old solid ones. I want those tires on because even if the ride is a little harder they can't get a flat. One less thing to worry about and a guy in town is interested in buying Harley Too from me and I want the solid tires. He can have the rest with the new tiresfrom New Harley Too for the right price. He'll be my first stop when I go into town after Yafim sorts the stuff. I just love it when the day starts with something good. That's actually two good things this morning, but then I was never much good at arthmetic! Less pain in right leg and Yefim.

DISTRACTED GIMP

I've been very distracted lately which has lead to my not quite being up to posting. The last two or so weeks have been taken up with having various and assorted tests performed upon my poor unsuspecting body. The first was an echo doppler of my carotid arteries. I suspected that the other one was in bad shape, and indeed it is. Of course the idiot place that did the test only sent part of the results and a merry battle ensued to get the rest of the results. They arrived 3 days after I saw the vacular surgery guy. While fighting that battle I went on a search for a good vascular surgeon and quite by accident stumbled upon one of the best in the country. A little insider connection and I saw him the very next day. He agreed with my diagnosis and says an operation is indeed needed but first he wants me to some kind of heart stress test. As I can't exactly get on a treadmill they have to it with some kind of drug. The first date the hospital gave me for the test was Dec 5, but Dem Der got it moved up to this coming Sunday. I'm a bit nervous about this test, and have given myself an average of 3 anxiety attacks a day since I got the date. It's a good thing I know the difference between an anxiety attack and a heart attack. I'm a little calmer now because it's being done in a hospital with a damn good cardiac unit. I decided to preempt the surgeon and have my annual blood tests done. Never mind that the last one was two years ago. They came back and everything was in normal range.
The thing that's really bothering me now is that the pain is back in my right leg with a vengeance and in some very strange places and all the time. I think it might just be another anxiety symptom because it doesn't really make sense that the shot only worked for a month. The whole thing should be over in a month or so and I'll know if I survived the operation or not. If not, the pain will be a non issue. If yes, and it's still this bad, I'll take my leg to my to the orthodoc. I really don't feel like making the long drive to see him now. It can wait.
Some jerk stole the motorcycle lock that was locked around my cripple parking space pole. I wish who ever nicked it good use of it as I have the key and it's of no use without a key. As Dem Der is here we can do the wheely from the house to the car, return wheely to the house, and again in reverse trick, so that's not the end of the world.
I have to find another chair for this computer. The black wheely is uncomfortable in the extreme. I managed to wrestle the computer chair into the kitchen somehow and it helps a lot. I think I'll get dressed and go out to Moshe's to see what he has in office chairs. Or, maybe I'll just stay in as New Harley Too needs a charge.

BLOOD TEST

Oh, yes, I'm doing just fine. Got myself up and ready nice and early yesterday and headed out for the clinic to get my blood test results. I usually run through a mental check list before leaving, but forgot that my wallet with the clinic card was on the bed and only remembered when I got to the entrance of the building. Yup, back home to get it.
I was very happy to see that my favorite GP was back at work, so I waited to get the results from him. My cholesteral is a little high, but lower than his; or so he says. Then, of course I showed him the results of the infamous carotid test and he was quite calming about and reminded me of what I already know but let myself forget in the panic of those results. It all comes down to stress. The high cholesterol, the build up of gunk on the artery. It's all stress. Gee, I wonder what I could have stressed over lately? Letting myself get bilked out of my money? Ya think maybe? I have pretty much gone cold turkey on the news. It just gets me so upset that I want to kill the TV. I feel the rage building up and there's nothing I can do about it, so why watch it? Strangly enough Fox doesn't get that reaction. Probably because it's so far away and I can look at like I would just about any other comedy show.
I've set several things in motion to get back some of the money Shmaryah 'stole' by way of my credit card. There were charges from last year's war that total around 20,000 that I did not approve, nor would I have had I known about them. The credit card company was very understanding about them and will try to help me get the money back even though it's so long after. Thing of it is; Ilana is a woman's name and the card was used by a man, either in person or over the phone. That is a big no no. They really are supposed to check the name on the card against the person presenting it. Oh, well, we shall see. It will take a while, but there's a pretty good chance that I'll get at least some of it back.
In the meantime I'm working on myself to keep the stress levels down.

THE ATTACK OF THE MICROWAVE

At least I got a few things done yesterday before the microwave decided to attack me! The paper work for the freaking heart test was sent for approval by the big mucky muck quacks who are paid astronomical salaries to second guess specilists, an appointment was made for a month from today, got called half way to my preffered grocery store to bring in the infamous results that put all this in motion, got the orders for the blood tests I haven't had for almost 2 years(that's a story worthy of it's own post) got the shopping done, got a few bureaucratic solved by phone and fax, completely ignored the computer because I'm feeling more than little distracted and by the time I got the few things not sent home by the delivery guy, was too damned tired to much else other than rest until Dem Der Mainiac got back from his wanderings. As the blood work included chloestrol tests I had to have a 'last meal' by 2100. I put something in the nuker and when it beeped, opened the door and the thing started sliding towards me. The bracket that held it's shelf to the wall had come lose, so there I stood holding at least a ton of nuker and shelf up while yelling for Dem Der Mainiac to help me. I was having visions of being trapped on the floor under the shelf and nuker. Dem Der and I came up with a solution brilliance that should earn us a prestigious prize of some sort. We wrestled the nuker to the hob, tested the shelf which turned out to be just sturdy enough to hold the tray of stuff that was on the feezer under the shelf. So, the tray moved to shelf and the nuker to the freezer top. It will take me a while to get used to the new arrangement but I won't be in danger of any more nuker ambushes!
I just rolled in from getting stuck for the blood tests. The gal who was ahead of me wanted to be stuck in an odd place, then, screamed bloody murder that it hurt. Excuse me, but you asked for it to be done there, so just shut up. Stupid blonde has absolutely no idea of what pain really is! In order to make my favorite nurse feel better about the blonde, I waited until she had the needle in, then asked when she intended to stick me! It really doesn't hurt at all, but then, I have enough pain in other places to mask that little pin prick! After some precision maneuvering I got New Harley Too out of the 'blood room' and picked up the authorization for the big heart test which Dem Der is trying to get a new date for. Between us, we pretty much have hospital where it will be done wired. Actually, he has the hospital wired, and I have the clinic in my pocket! We'll know in a few hours if the heart thing has been moved up. I have a feeling that it will be.
I have a few things to clear up with my credit card company and a whole bunch of minor housekeeping tasks to do. I rather doubt I'll be going out again today, but, you never can tell!

SHOULD BE INTERESTING

I fully expect to be a bit of a wreck over the next few weeks. I saw one of the top vascular surgeons in the country on Friday and I was right, I do need the operation and soon. I got the appointment only 3 days after getting the results of the test. That was fast. I rolled into his office, put the results on his desk and announced that I have "a little problem" He looked at them, and corrected me by informing me that I have a big problem. He was very up front and clear. He also actually looked me right in the eye while talking. That's pretty rare in this country. And of course, it's not possible to just schedule it and do it; I have to have a whole bunch of tests first. Those are the easy part. The nervewracking part is the operation itself. Ever since I can remember myself I've had an irrational fear, or maybe discomfort is a better word, about my neck. I will wear a turtleneck when ever possible. So, of course the operation is on my neck. It makes me nervous because it makes me think about how I designed the ultimate gimp house in 1972, 30 years before needing one myself. So, this old neck thing has me a little nervous as the operation can go one of 3 ways. It can be a complete success, it can give me another stroke on the other side, or, it can kill me. Of course not having it WILL kill me. I'm hoping for a complete success, of course, but this life long thing about my neck makes me wonder what's going to go wrong. I'm actually kind of looking forward to having a scar there; Dracula like. So, that's where things stand right now. I'll be going out soon to start the whole pre op test stuff. I want to get it finished and done with as soon as possible.
Sheesh, I don't even know when the operation will be and I'm already planning my scarper!
Oh, I won the fight for the rest of the results. We stopped at the place that was holding them hostage, and was told that they'd already been mailed. The doc didn't even ask for them, but that's not the point. I fully intend to write some very nasty letters about it to all the relevant parties. That just isn't going to go away.

IT COULD BE WORSE, RIGHT?

A little over a month ago I started feeing a little *fuzzy* and thought it might be a good idea to get my "good" carotid artery checked. I had the test on the 12th and got partial results results yesterday. It's pretty much what I thought it would be-not good. Now I'm trying to find a decent vascular surgeon because I most likely need a 'brain by pass'. There are two major problems looming. The first is that my doctor of choice was in a traffic accident and no one knows when he'll be back at work. The second is that even if he comes back to work it won't be before Nov. 29 in Maalot of all places. And worse yet, if I do get to see him, I only have part of the results. The important part-the pictures are not sent with the written report because the idiot quack who runs the place that does the tests refuses to release them to the patient if there is significant pathology. I spent the whole day fighting with them and have authorized Dem Der Mainiac to sue them if anything happens because of that. Docs do not like partial results. They like to see for themselves the whole thing. That idiot egomaniac doctor doesn't realize that as I am not in the health plan he works for, he will not be going the surgery. He will be getting sued if I don't get those tests. I could do the test again again at another place that sends the complete results but it will mean a delay of at least 3 weeks and there's a good chance I'll find another doctor by then. Waiting is not a good idea at this point.
I just want it done and over with. It's a dangerous operation, but not having it is even more dangerous. Of course the aggro over the missing part of the results is really not helping at all.
On a much brighter note, I had a call from my insurance company and they offered me 2,000 for the injuries I got in the car crash when a perfectly good Citroen was turned into a Cit'ruin'. Imagine that! They want to give me money for being my favorite color for a month. Or maybe in compensation for the lovely purple turning ugly yellow green? Whatever. They are giving me money. How cool is that?
Right. Back to battlefield.