GOT MY PHARMACIST TODAY

The pharmacist who works in my clinic's pharmacy is a fun loving guy and will go the extra mile for his customers. Today he was out of my anti pee meds and instead of just shrugging his shoulder and telling me to wait until Thursday when he'll get more in, he called his pal at the private pharmacy to ask if he had any. The other pharamacist's name is Osama, and my poor guy was laughing so hard when Osama answered that he couldn't talk. Why was he doubled over in laughter? It might be because I told him that him that I miss getting my meds from Osama because there is something deliciously twisted about being in Israel and buying meds from a guy named Osama. He was still giggling when he got off the phone after arranging for me to go in and get a box from Osama. He said that it had never occured to him, and that he'd never think of our Osama in the same way he had before. And this guy is an Arab too. And he actually has a lower opinion of the non doctor at my clinic than I do, which is saying something as he just happens to be an Arab as well.
Of course non of my barbed remarks refer to that. My point is clear enough without being too specific. I actually told that to Osama a couple of years ago and he laughed too.

I was not laughing when I came home, however. Peg rearranged all the trash that had been in the bin all over the floor and now I get to clean it up. Why on earth can I never remember to put that bin on the bed or at least out of his reach? I'd best get on with it.

MY TALENTS AMAZE ME

Oh yes indeed, I am talented. Yesterday, when I got up from the bed, or, more accurately, tried to, I put on my nice warm floppy cloth faux tennis shoe slippers and after placing my right foot down, promptly planted the left one on the front of the right one, which made doing anything other than sitting back down and trying again out of the question. It took 3 attempts before I got it right. Dem Der had the good sense to stay in his room until the yelling was over.
For my next trick I waited until this morning which started in the middle of the night. I heard Dem Der leave (why are they so much noisier when they are trying to be quiet?) at 0430, and got up to go to the loo, and decided to find out if the key board was really dead or just not connected. The only way to get to the back of the computer to check the connection is to pull it carefully forward while trying to keep it on the brick on which it sits in case of a water disaster. Gimp House has had a few. Just as I got it far enough out to see the back, the cable phone modem fell off and landed in the middle of the cable spaghetti so that I couldn't get it back up. After finding that the keyboard was connected, and therfore dead, the computer fell off the brick and on to my foot. Being far too agravated to sleep, I wrestled the lap top onto the bed and got the antivirus updated and the Microsoft updates going. Just then, a friend I'd been wanting to chat with for several days came up on IM so we chatted while I battled with the MS update that wanted to restart the computer. I kept telling it later, so, of course, after the IM, I told it to restart, except it woulden't. So there I was in the early morning hours with no computer and a long time to wait until I could call my geek or even that idiot newspaper that didn't arrive on Friday. As the paper did arrive today and there was nothing much else to do, I did the cross word puzzle and finished that in 20 minutes. A great start to any day. My geek duly arrived with a new keyboard, connected it, rescued the phone modem and got the lap top sorted. By then, I decided that it was time for a nap and woke up late in the afternoon. What an interesting fun day. Now it's time to eat something and go catch the end of the news for the weather report. I was supposed to take my pressure sore to the clinic but as the real doctor is never there on Sunday, will take it tomorrow.

INSTALL A TAP?

What with all the blood tests I've been having lately, I'm thinking about having a permanent tap put in my arm. They want a whole list new tests before the rotorooter, including HIV. I found that to be hysterically funny in light of the fact that I have never shot up drugs, never mind with a previosly used needle, never ever had a blood transfusion, and I've been celibate for longer than I ca remember. If they want that test they can have it. I did have a bit of giggle over my orthdoc calling the stuff he shot me with a cocktail. But the really annoying thing about it is that the nurse who drew the blood today is so good that I won't even have a purple bruise there.
There was a kid there needing blood drawn and she was making such a fuss about it that I finally said something to effect that if she didn't knock it off and let the nurse take the blood, I'd make the needle uneccessary. That was the end of the fussing. So, by now my blood is on it's way to be tested for all kinds of vile things, I've run all the errands I had to run today, and I'm home.
Who says old dogs can't learn new tricks? They can, oh, can they ever. Pegasus has learned how to undo the clip on his in the house chain. He did it twice yesterday and I was sitting right here where I can see him. The first time I just put it back on, but the second time I took a good hard look at the connectors and they look just fine. I have no idea how he manages to undo it, but I am keeping a sharp eye on him. He didn't even wander from his usual turf, not even to check out Dem Der's room which still looks like a bomb went off in there. After all the noise about the state of the kitchen floor, *I* went and made a huge mess on it yesterday. Isn't that just the way? I did get most of it cleaned up, and will get around to giving it a proper wash at some time in the distant future. Now, I am going back to bed to read, watch TV and pamper my pressure sore which they say is getting better and is supposed to hurt more the better it gets. Why does that sound right to me? At least I managed to figure out a way to elevate it so it's not resting on the bed. I'm pretty good with pillows if I do say so myself. The anti pressure sore air mattress isn't doing it's job. Could be because it has so many leaks in it? I'll have to get another one soon. But for now, the pillow pyramid is working just fine.

CHRISTMAS AT GIMP HOUSE

While Cristmas is not exactly celebrated as such at Gimp House, there are a few Christmas traditions that are observed. The most important to me is my Christmas phone call to Alice. I haven't missed a year since I came here, and this year was no different. The sad part of it was that her father wasn't there to tease me about the Kosher ham he used to keep in the fridge for me. But, her mom answered the phone and it was lovely to talk with her, Alice and Wes the Russian. One of the really cool things about that annual Christmas call is that I can picture all of them in the house. It's almost like being there. It's so comforting having a best friend from elementary school to this day. And she is a best friend in every meaning of best friend. She understands me even when I don't. Nothing is better than that.
My son called, not for Christmas, but because he had the day off, and I got hear the baby making playful sounds in the background. I just loved hearing her baby voice and talking with *my* baby. He's such a sweetheart.

As I was out anyway on the day of Christmas Eve, I checked my mail box and among the bills and snail spam there was a smallish box that actually fit in there. Figuring it was a Christmas gift, I saved opening until after calling Alice. I came really close to falling off the bed and woke Dem Der up with my very loud "Bless you and thank you, Jags" It was only the very best gift I could ever have gotten. My very own purple bag of peanut dark chocolate M&Ms. That was absolutely the very best gift I've ever gotten and the timing was nothing short of miraculous. How on earth she got it to arrive on Christmas Eve day I'll never know, but if anyone could, it would be Jags. She is a truly good, loving and kind person and I am so proud to know her, and to have been able to visit with her, her mom and twin when I was over there last year.

Dem Der made quite a few Christmas call from his phone as well. As Christmases go it was a quiet but nice one here.
I hope it was for my 3 faithful readers as well.

IT COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH WORSE

How quickly a new reality can make us forget lessons we've already learned the hard way. New Harley Too's front tyre seemed low on air on Friday, so I took him to the tyre doctor for some air. I really should have known better and gotten the tyre changed. That is what I would have done without even thinking about it with Harley Too.
This morning, after getting ready and making sure I had everything I needed, I went out only to find NHT's tyre flat. Flat as in pancake flat. I somehow managed to fight him down off the ramp onto the path between the buildings, and called the tyre doc who promised to come as soon as they could(I called at 1055). Knowing that the day was basically shot, I settled onto the nice comfy seat with a book to wait. Orna came by with coffee for us and we visited for a bit. She went off to do stuff and I hust sat and read. One bright bulb walking by informed me that I had a flat.Like I hadn't figured that out all by myself 2 hours previously. On and on I read until they finally got here and fixed it at 0515 or so. As the day was shot, I just drove NHT back up on the ramp and will try again tomorrow. I think it's safe to say that next time the font tyre is low on air I'll skip the putting air in bit and just have them change. I am so glad that rear tyres are solid and can not lose air!

MORE OF THE SAME

Nothing much has been going on over the last few days. I stayed in except to take my pressure sore to the clinic. It's not getting better, but a proper doctor will be there on Monday. The idiot doctor wandered in while the nurse and I were discussing what to do, looked at it and said "hmmm, pressure sore" to which I very quietly replied "That's one you got right" No way was I going to let him in on the discussion even though he did manage to get it right. I can wait for the real doctor. The poor nurse was most distressed that I wouldn't even let the surgeon who was there look at it. I told her to just put another patch of the same stuff back on it, and I'd come back on Monday.
Something very strange is going on with one of cell phone companies. I 'killed' one of the phones from that company (Orna's) but it somehow came back to life. I am less than pleased but look forward to the visit there tomorrow. And Orna didn't get the money to me on time for her daughter's phone, so that one will die tomorrow as well, and I will make 100% sure it's dead. Enough is enough already.
Poor Dem Der. He was granted permission for a housing authority flat or a hostel. He does not want a hostel as he is more than capable of living on his own. When he went to the housing authority to see about the flat they told him that his name had been removed from the list and added to the hotel list. Many phone calls later he was told that he'd be back on the flat list on Sunday. If he is, we'll be able to start looking at flats for him soon. This might sound mean, but I can't wait for him to leave. It's not that he's such a bother, I just want my house back. He's actually been pretty good in the kitchen and the tiles are still visible, but he does make a lot of noise, and is probably deaf too. It's rediculous that I can hear the TV in his room with the door partly closed over my TV. And he oy vays whenever he walks. Ok, yeah, his feet still hurt, but, really. Even I don't groan as much with the right leg pain, or didn't before the shot. So call me a mean old bitch, but it does get tiring after a while. Every single step he takes is accompanied by an oy vey. Oh, well, it's not forever. Maybe just another month or so, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I just hope it's not a train!

STORM? WHAT STORM?

Just my luck. No sooner do I get equipped for that big storm all the weather persons were going on about, than they change the whole forcast. Now it seems that all we'll be getting up here in the north is a lot of cold air. All the good stuff will be down south. We might get a few sprinkles of rain. And there are people who actually believe all this global warming B.S. when they can't even predict weather 48 hours ahead with any accuracy. Yeah, right. In a way it's ok if it doesn't storm. That just makes it easier to go out on Friday for the local papers.
I wasn't listening during one of my phone conversations with Dem Der. He did come back in the end, last night. He also took a shower and again left huge blobs of shampoo all over the floor in there. We are going to have a little chat about that as well as the kitchen. The kitchen floor was far from gleaming clean, but at least the tiles are visible again, and were still visible after I finished concocting that soup. He still has no idea how much he wants me to find it that way when I get back from having my pressure sore checked.
My son sent me some new pictures of the baby. She's something else, but, then, her daddy is pretty special too. There's one of her sitting in a half full laundry basket that just cracks me up. The expression on her face says it all. See for yourselves! I have the feeling that she just might not forgive her father for that picture when she grows up. But
I just love it. Now, if I can just get through the rotorooter with no more damage, and put enough money aside, I'll be able to go and see her in person one day. The best option for that of course, would be for just one of the people who owes me money to pay up.

Manic Mainiac

If laughter is any indication, I should be well on the way to being cured of all my post stroke, post MI, and wear and tear issues. Just about everything gets me laughing these days, and I quite like it.There is the fact that I got the floor here relatively clean with only minor discomfort, as well as Dem Der coming through with a whole carton of my favorite fags. Well done, Dem Der! He got in fairly late last night and has already taken himself back to Safad to be with his sick pal who needs a series of the same tests Dem Der needs, so the floor will stay in it's nice new cleanish state for a few more days. He's not coming back tonight.
There is one dark cloud, though. After all these months of getting payments for other people off my account, the bill came in for my mail cell phone. I let Orna's daughter put her phone on my account, which was just fine as long as her bills were under 200. Even the last one at 264 was ok, but this one came in at 580 which is more than ALL my phone bills together, and I have phones. Boy, do I have phones! And I use them when I feel like it. Two lines from different companies in the house, 2 in the car, and 6 other cell phones, 4 of which are mine, 2, that are not in my possesion but that I have to keep paying the monthly charge for, and all that together came to much less than that one cell phone bill. I told her about it last night and she asked to pay it in 2 payments. Sorry, just can't do and the bank will not pay it this month. I'm just on the edge and if the payment bounces her daughter's line goes first. I also told her that it must come off my bill. That is just about the only bill that I never ever had not paid on time. Ever. Not even during other bad financial times. That cell phone bill was ALWAYS paid on time. That is one thing that I am not finding amusing in the least. I am somewhat hopeful that she will get the amount needed to pay it in time as that phone is very important to them now that she's in the Army. And I was quite clear about it. And she knows I'll cut it off because I cut off the one I gave her so we'd be able to be in touch as and when I needed her. Her last bill on that phone was way over the top too. Oh, well, all I have to pay on it now is the charge for the phone itself which isn't much.
I've also managed to get myself another pressure sore on my left ankle from that free fall incident last week. The doc put some kind of patch thing on that has to stay on for 3 days. It did work the last time, so maybe it will work this time too. It's already been 2 full days and it still hurts, so I do have my doubts. I'll get it checked tomorrow and we'll go from there. I guess the moral from that is to stop free falling.
Our intrepid weather people are forcasting a big storm that's supposed to start later today. It's supposed to get very cold and might even snow. I fully intend to enjoy ever minute of this incoming storm, but first I have to go out and get a few things.

THE RUSSIANS GOT ONE THING RIGHT

I've known this for a long time, but keep forgeting that I want to write about it. The word in Russian for a stroke is insult. Boy have they got that one nailed. A stroke or CVA is just about the most insulting thing that can happen to a brain. Trust me on this. I've had a stroke, CVA, insult, whatever you want to call it, I had one and it was well and truly an insult in every way I can think of.This dictionary entry pretty much sums it up:
To treat with gross insensitivity, insolence, or contemptuous rudeness. That is exactly what it feels like has been done to you when you wake up to your new post stroke world, unless, like me, you were consious and awake for the whole thing. Thing is, in most cases it's not an insult from some else. It's your very own self that has insulted itself.
Oh well, just thought I'd mention it, now that the floor is kind of clean. I just invented a whole new way to wash a toxic floor Israeli style while using the wheely. I just stopped in here for a minute to rest.

TOXIC WASTE DUMP

This has to be more than just the typical Y chromosone with 'bad' genes. I simply can not believe what Gimp House looks like barely a month after Dem Der moved in. I am neither the neatest, nor, cleanest person in the world, but this is a whole new level. Were I to apply for Gimp House to be a toxic waste dump the application would be summarily rejected. His room looks like a bunker busting bomb went off in it, the kitchen floor is covered with grease and food bits, the shower has huge blobs of his shampoo on the floor. If/when he washes the dishes, he doesn't clean out the sink and bits of stuff are left in the drain strainer, and in the corners of the sink. The cook top has more food on it than what he cooked in a pan. The things he does wash are often put in the wrong place so they aren't to hand when I want them. But that's the least of it. It is truly vile. Oh, and there are trails of bog roll all through the house that he can't be bothered to pick up. He is also incapable of closing the swing top on the bin lid in the kitchen and actually brought bog roll into the kitchen to use instead of paper towels of which there were plenty in the car boot, but he was too lazy to go out and get. Of course he just dropped the misused bog roll into or close to the floor washing pail that lives under the sink, rather than putting it in the bin. That he used a whole sheet of A4 of paper to write 7 numbers instead of the little ones I have right here for just that purpose is the very least of it! There is not a self respecting pig anywhere that would be willing to use Gimp House as a stye in it's present condition. And there is very little I can do about it as the worst of it is the floor and I simply am not able to wash it. I tried that a few weeks ago and it was just not possible. Of course it's much worse now than it was then.
Yes, it really is that bad, worse even. So, I am going to take my sore ankle (it took a pretty bad knock when I pracrised parachuting landings a couple of weeks ago and isn't healing), to the clinic for a look/see as I can't see it myself, then, I'm coming home to tackle the floor from the wheely. That just might land me in bed for the next few days, but I simply can not stand it and Orna is too busy to do it. Nevermind that the very sight of it would send her screaming out into the street.
Come to think of it, conditions in the local dump are actually better than are here.

WHAT IS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND?

Ok, so, Gimp House is not the easiest place to find in town, UNLESS YOU LISTEN TO THE DIRECTIONS, then, it's dead easy. You simply follow the signs to a place called Yad Sarah, and Gimp House is the purple flat with the wheely ramp that has 2 scooters parked on it. Nothing easier. The paper boy for that crap English paper actually found it yesterday and I showed him exactly where to put the paper. SHOWED HIM. Let's see of you can get it from this description. There is a screen door. The screen is detached from the frame. If you slip the paper through the screen it will be between the screen door and the main door. And I SHOWED HIM. So, what did I wake up to this morning? An open screen door, which I really really hate, and the paper holding the screen door open. That was the final straw. Now I have to wait until the lazy subscription people get to work at 0930 to cancel the damn thing permanently. Enough is enough. This has been going on for close to a month. I really don't need the agro, I have more than enough to deal with without the added agro of trying to get that paper here so Dem Der can have a paper he can read. I don't need because that English language news paper is the direct cause of my learning to read in Hebrew. The only thing that paper is any good for is washing windows and I only have two windows that ever need washing and the Hebrew papers are almost as good for that. It makes not a lick of difference that it's free for the first month. I don't want it even if they pay me to take it! And if that wasn't enough, they called at 0745 to ask if it got here. Um, I was kind of asleep. Have I mentioned that I really do not like this paper? I think I might have an alternative to using water boarding for torture. Give the captive a 'free' subscription to the Jerusalem Post and he'll be telling everything he knows within 48 hours. Even the Chinese couldn't come up with anything better. And I'm pretty sure there's no mention of Jerusalem Posting in the Geneva Conventions or anywhere else. On the other hand, it won't take the ACLU long to try and get it banned as cruel and unusual. But, by the time they figure it out, much helpful information will have been collected. I say, "Go for it!"
Right! It is now time to organize the rest of the day. There's paperwork to get done at the clinic for the rotorooter, blood and urine tests for same, and the car's steering to sort.

LAUGHTER *IS* THE BEST MEDICINE

After stubbornly refusing to take my aching right leg to it's doctor for the past month, the pain finally got to me and I called him yesterday. He told me to come see him today. While planning the trip in my mind-it's about 100 miles both ways, it suddenly hit me that my car needs it's annual inspection NOW, as in this very minute. After a few quick phone call to verify times and cost, I made a quick run into town and paid the registration fee, then decided to have the inspection done in a town that's on the way to the doctor. When I got there the guy in the office who does the paperwork and takes the money was not in his little window, so I called and he came charging out. Those wheely cards are great. There are so few of them that they really get good attention at places that know just how rare they are.
To say I was gobsmacked is an understatemt. The car flunked it's annual test. The rear tires were crap, and they said there's a problem with too much play in the steering. I'm not so sure about that but will have it checked tomorrow. The Disco had very twitchy steering that took a lot of getting used to. The Focus has very calm nice steering, but still. I will get it checked. With a week's extension, I headed off to my beloved ortho doc and when I finally got in to see him, we had our usual chat about this and that. He wanted to know what the story is with Dem Der and said that he was happy that I had someone. Boy did I set him straight on that. My answers to some of his questions about Dem Der got us laughing so hard that a doctor who was walking by came in to see what all the noise was about. There was a condescending comment in Hebrew about appropriate behavior in a doctor's office which got an even more condescending reply in English from me about laughter being the best medicine which got us going again when I added that by now I should be close to being cured! Oh, I do like my ortho doc. I'm going to keep a few of his comments to myself except to say that they were very complimentary.
When we finally got to the shot part we were in the nurse's suite of rooms. She's a sweetheart too and after a ripost or two I told the doc that he'd have to choose between us. He said some very nice things about me to her and said she'd understand more when he gave me the shot that we were calling a cocktail because it was made up of several things. The nurse was concerned about how I'd get from the wheely to the treatment bed. Things got loud again in the laughter department when I told her I'm not getting on a bed with HIM in the room, so, I stood and he shot me. She just couldn't over the fact that I didn't even flinch. Hell! I was high from all that laughing. Having learned from the previous shot that just getting in the car and driving home is not a good idea, I decided to do some gimp ballet exercises to get the cocktail working. More laughter with people walking by and shaking their heads in wonder. That much hilarity is not a common event in a medical clinic. It should be, though. I felt great all the way home and grinned the whole way until I found out how much the new tires were. They are now happily settled on the rear wheels. Even the steering issue doesn't bother me tonight. I'm still savoring some of the things the doc said, and that should keep me up in the clouds for a few more days. I wish more doctors were more like him.

ALMOST WAS THE OPERATIVE WORD

Indeedy, indeedy, I was almost out of the mess I made for myself at the bank. This month is going to be squeeky close, but, I just might make it, maybe. Today has turned into a massive challenge. I almost forgot to get the car it's annual inspection. It doesn't cost much but I'm not sure I have enough cash on hand to do it. On top of that, I talked with my ortho doc yesterday and am supposed to go see him today in Acre. I have a feeling that I might have to cancel that.
I did have lots of fun on the phone yesterday. Fun, but, not much satisfaction. Harley's people were amazingly obtuse. The guy who sold him to me kept trying to convince me that that are not made to be used in the rain. Excuse me, but this is the third one I've had and never ever have I had trouble with them in the rain. Oh, there have been plenty of other troubles with them but never have they stopped dead in their tracks in the rain. I'm not having it. Something is wrong with him. The problem is in the electronic brake system.
It was even more fun with the newspaper dolts. I hit them with insults that left even me, (the queen of insults) amazed. Oh, yes, in a very calm cold deadly voice. One of them called during the news and I got to have go at him about that, along the lines of; "You can't the newspaper here in the morning, then call during the evening news? What's wrong with you?" I came up with a few other zingers that I can't quite recall at the moment, but it was ever so much fun.
Ok, now it's time to take a quick shower, then figure out how/if I'm going to get things done.

SUNDAY CAN'T GET HERE SOON ENOUGH FOR ME

I haven't felt so charged up for battle since I can't remember when! The weekend after Dem Der got moved in, I decided to allow him to sign me up for 2 free weeks of the English language newspaper, The Jerusalem Post, aka The Putz and/or the G(i)P. Free;two weeks; home delivery. We are now heading into the 4 th week and the delivery idiot still hasn't found Gimp House. One day last week someone in the subscription department called to be sure I'm getting the free deliveries and talk me into buying 4 more months at the price of the weekend edition only. I agreed only because it was a good deal. They haven't been able to deliver even one of the free papers, but at least they did call every other day or so to find out if the paper had arrived. They stopped calling when I agreed to the new deal. I am going to have so much fun with them on Sunday it's almost sinful.
The other fun phone call will be to the Harley place. I went into town this morning all bundled up and under the rain poncho because it was raining. I was on the last leg towards home, having just gotten a couple of tiny bags of M&Ms as a birthday present to myself, when all of a sudden New Harley Too stopped dead in his tracks. We created quite a traffic jam on that street before a couple of guys figured out that maybe there was a problem. 3 of them got out of their cars and came over to offer suggestions. When they figured out that I actually knew what was wrong, and that there was nothing to do except move NHT out the way, one of them helped me stand while the other 2 moved NHT over to the curb and #1 helped me walk back over. Knowing that Afikim, the Harley place doesn't work on Fridays, I called Motty, my son's father in law who said that he just had a little something to finish and he'd be right along. An hour later, and just as I had taken out the cell phone to ask Motty how much longer, a neighbor from my building came along. We managed to get NHT rolling by playing with a lever that is somehow related to the electronic brake and he pushed me home. I had no sooner gotten in the house and plunked myself down on the bed, found Motty's number and was ready to dial it, when Motty called to say he'd be right along. I thanked him profusely after telling him that NHT and I were already home. He really is the nicest guy.
So, the 'Putz' aka The GiP will be getting a very deadly nasty phone call on Sunday as will Afikim. At least now I know where NHT's problem is. In spite of my aversion to making phone calls, I am going to enjoy those two ever so much!

AH, YES

Hah! Ok, so I did get a late start today, but I also managed to get out, swing through town, and get home just as the rain started. It's supposed to storm for the next few days and I might only go out tomorrow for the local papers.
Dem Der has gone to Afula for a glow in the dark test. He's convinced himself that he has colon cancer. He might well have it, but, for crying out loud, why can't he just get himself a proper diagnosis rather than having tests that are only partially conclusive done? One day he announces that he doesn't plan to get it treated if he does have it. The next day, he says that it will depend on where it is. I do wish he would just take a page out of my book and wait until the results are in rather than making idiot proclomations before even half of the tests are done. If the cancer he might or might not have doesn't kill him, I just might. He'll be back later today, and I must say that I've quite enjoyed having Gimp House to myself since he went to Safad on Tuesday. Just mention him...and he calls. He's all ftutzed that the nurse who gave him the glow in the dark stuff to drink kind of didn't exactly know just what the stuff is. Hells bells what does he expect from a nurse in a coutry where they call a chest cold angina? And yesterday he had a run in with the doctor who had to approve the test that a CT is not a diagnosic test. If it's not diagnostic, what is it? Granted it's not a definitive test for what he thinks he has. His favorite idiot doctor story is when one of the new immigrant doctors from Russia wanted to know where the scar was from the kidney transplant on the other side or did they do both from the same incision? Yeah right. Thankfully things like that don't happen very often.

RULES FOR NOT MAKING AN IDIOT OF MYSELF

I really must memorize the following items. They are very important to survival in the world of Gimpdom.

Rule 1 Come to a complete stop.

Rule 2 Take a deep breath

Rule 3 engage first gear, slowly release the clutch.

Rule 4 Speak only after thriple checking that information that is to be announced is accurrate, then, check again.

What brought on this rule list? I think I'll go with the " I was distracted by Peg's vet when the hospital called and heard the wrong date! The rotorooter is scheduled for Jan 7 which most likely is someone elses birthday. I've done it before so really would have been upset had I arrived at hospital a full month early. That would have been one long wait in the waiting room.
I should probably work up rules on the state of my reading glasses. I put on the bedroom pair to read a label, then came to the computer with them still on and almost came to conclusion that I was having a stroke on the other side or was rapidly going blind. Everything on the monitor was blurry. Then I looked down and THERE WERE MY COMPUTER GLASSES. Duhn.
A new set of self tips for going out to New Harley Too in the winter might also be a good idea. The first time I went out I had poncho, hat of many colors, glasses and a towel. I had just gotten NHT all disconnected and was ready to go when I realized that I'd left my bag of holding inside. I lurched back in, put the towel down, hoiked the bag of holding off it's hook, went back out and sat in an ocean sized puddle on NHT's seat. Not being in any kind of shape to go back in yet again and change, I just went as I was. it's not like I had to get up and walk or anything. It will all dry out sometime, right? I can slow down as the rotorooter is a month away. I did get Peg's pills,(my GP had already left for the day and the other one; the jerk, refused to give the same scrit in my name. I went to our pharmacy to ask how much they cost without a scrit and the druggist asked why 'that' doctor refused, I just shook my and said yeah, all he'd have to do to make it legal was to make a notation that I'm a bitch. I think he's still laughing, but he did figure out a way to do it!) my new checks and a couple of steaks. The last ones I got at the butcher where just not as good as the ones from the time before that. All in all it was an ok morning. Even the rain held off until I got home. Not that it mattered. I was alrady wet!

ONE OF THOSE DAYS

Peg has had a strange cough lately so I called his vet who came right over, diagnosed him left a scrit for antibiotics and orders to let him know how he's doing. The phone rang while he was here. It was the hospital telling me my rotorooter is on Friday which just happens to be my birthday. She immediately wanted to change it for the next week, but I really don't want to wait, having worked myself into que sera status. It has to be done, so lets do it already. Just think, in a country with socialized medicine, it took less than a month to get a date with a knife from when I did the first test that lead to it. Not bad by any standards.
Ok, that's the big news for now. It's time to build a meat loaf and go loaf around in bed for a while.

STORMY WEATHER

For once the storm is outside, and not me on the rampage in Gimp House! I managed to get the dishes washed yesterday but simply could not face doing the floor. That's just way too much to even comtemplate even with the wheely! But at least the dishes and stuff are washed the way I like and put back in their proper places. The floor and the grot on them aren't going anywhere and will be there when I feel up to it, sometime next century.
The rain started very late last night and there was a bit of lightning and thunder. Just enough to send Peg into the space between my wardrobe and bed. Poor baby handles katyushas better than he does thunder. I love storms and was thrilled to still be awake for the one last night. The local radar thingy says there will be rain on and off all day. I got a sudden case of smarts and covered the sensitive parts of New Harley Too with huge garbage bags so maybe he'll be ok to go out alittle later. I have to get this months meds at the pharmacy and go grocery shopping as we are out of lots of stuff.
Dem Der is in grave danger of losing his life. I've been stock piling tuna in water and had 10 or 12 cans in the cupboard. He always says that he prefers tuna in oil and that he has a supply in a box under the counter. Yeah? So why is there now only one can left in the cupboard? I detest tuna in oil, so it's not exactly a fair trade and I'll have to start the stock pile again. At least he hasn't messed with my sardines in olive oil. That could have been ugly as they are very expensive. Maybe I'll just let it go and look at the trouble he's having with his feet as devine retribution for the tuna. He really is having a bad time with that and it seems to have spread to his other foot now, making him more useless than usual. He was so proud that he filled Peg's water dish this morning that I decided not to yell even though he about it before I had my coffee. It's pissing rain out and he filled the water dish. Peg can't go out to his usual spot as it's a mud hole and I can't be sure when I'll be dressed and ready to take him out with NHT. Poor Peg makes heroic efforts not to pee in the house when it's raining but he can only hold it for so long.
Why is it that when men try to be helpful they get it all wrong? Yes, Gracie, I do know it's the Y factor, but I feel like whinging about it.
The rain has let up a little so, I'll just go and make up a shopping list, get dressed and take a shot at going out with Peg, then shopping. I'll make do with my rain poncho and leave the snow suit for a colder rainier day. It's such a hassle to get into.