Friday, April 26, 2013
PAYBACK IS A ***** FIVE LETTER WORD
Payback #1 Last week the new wheely story took a wrong turn
that I just can't let go. The fool physiotherapist sent the required forms with
more wrong information than correct. For example, he wrote that I am 1 meter 65
centimeter. The last time I was that short was when I was 10 years old. I am 1
mete, 77 cm, or, would be if I could stand up straight. That explains why the
chair I ended up with in 2002 is midget sized and I can't get up from without
using a thick pillow. That was just one goof. After seeing them all, I decided
to go on a medical spending spree on my health provider's dime. The first
expensive test was an echo Doppler of my neck arteries and leg veins. I gave
them a break by asking for them at the same time. (more like I gave myself a
break) I asked for them to be done at the provider that does them at the
hospital my vascular surgeon reads them for. It just happens to be the most
expensive place to have them done at. It's also at an inner city hospital with
major parking issues. As my neighbor, and frequent partner in crime had just
quit his "job", I asked him if he wanted to go along as wheely help. For some
strange reason he enjoys these jaunts with me. The big day rolled along and I
was showered, dressed, and ready when he showed up on time. I got the car fueled
and we headed out of time a good two hours before we would have to if not for
the parking issues. As expected, there was not a parking space to found. I
decided to offer to let drop me off and take the car to the fishing shop he
wanted to go to in another area of Haifa. He came back with an offer to drop me
off and find a parking space. That sounded good, so we went with that. Having
shown up very early, they called me well before my assigned hour and the tests
were done by a gal who has done them to me before. Fun is not a word I would use
to describe the tests, but they are not intrusive, so we had a fine time. When
it was over I rolled out, thinking that he'd be in the area, but, he was nowhere
to be seen. I called him and he showed up a few minutes later. Poor guy didn't
find find a parking space so he just kept driving around. Next time he won't be
so quick to tell me I'm being silly about finding parking there! He wanted to
hit the fishing store, which is very close to where I used to work in Haifa, so
I know the area intimately. I found a nice little spot to stop at which just
happened to block a marked spot of the owner of a bakery we used to go to often
back when I worked there. No problem as I had every intention of staying in the
car, to read, and move it, if I had to. He didn't take too long and returned to
the car with two ginormous fishing lures and some line. Next on the agenda was
lunch in Carmiel at a place that we both love. Everything was just fine until we
got stuck in a traffic jam that took well over an hour to get out of. Cops and
private ambulances were whizzing by on the shoulder, so we figured it was an
accident. By the time we got there, I was tired from the stop and go of the
traffic jam dancing in my seat to pee. I told Golan to go straight to the loo,
pass the seating guy and just get me there. He did, and thankfully there was a
gimp loo. I had to go so badly that I didn't really care that the toilet was a
gnome height. Maybe I should have, because I couldn't get up. It was just that
simple, no way could I g et up from that toilet. The way I saw it, I had two
choices. I could just stay there, or I could ask Golan for help. I went with
option number 2. We managed to get me up without much too much trouble, and went
to a table to order and eat. By then all I wanted was water, so I drank down a
carafe by myself, had a few of the salads that come with the skewer of lamb I
ordered, and we left to head home. The heels of both my feet were burning like
never before. That was thanks to all the stop and go and my tendency to get
sores(of the bed sore variety) there. Golan wanted me to drop him off in town,
which I did. When I got home, it was to find a truck blocking my numbered gimp
parking space. I tried twice to back in, but it just wasn't going to
happen. That carries a hefty fine, so I called the cops and two came right away
to find the truck owner. They finally tracked him down and he was not anywhere
in the area. One of the cops asked what I wanted to do, so, I suggested that
they bring Harley down to me and that the cop park the car, and so it was. I
hopped (not very sprightly) with the cop's help onto Harley and went into town
to get the few things I needed. I was very impressed by the cops. They were
super sweet and not at all rushed. While all that was going on, the truck
owner's mother showed up and when she understood the problem, apologized and
swore that it would never happen again. By doing that, she saved her son from a
whopping fine. I really didn't care about the fine, I just wanted to get the
stuff I need and back home to bed, which I did. I ran into another minor problem
with the getting into bed. I could only get one leg of my pants, and one anti
death sock off, so, there I sat on the edge of the bed until Esther, Miss
Missy's best friend and walker arrived and peeled the other leg for me.
AAAAAHHHHHHHHH, I thought. "it's over". Uh, not quite. I did fall asleep quickly
to dulcet tones of the Fox News folks, only to wake up an hour later with cramps
in both legs and feet. It went on like that all night, but let up in the
morning. (note to self: get a new salt for the bedroom) For my next payback, I'm
having a full body bone scan, you know, a glow in the dark test that really
costs. ANd I am ready and willing to pay my share. At least that test is at a
hospital with parking. And I just might let Golan drive home! Was it worth it?
Damn right it was
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