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

4 comments:

pepperhawkfarm said...

Wow, Lucie, what one hell of a day you had.

I'm glad you're getting them back for not getting that new wheelie for you. It still boils me that you don't have that new chair for bloody sake. What the hell are they waiting for? I bet you are going to keep giving a piece of you evility. If I were there, I'd help you give it to them. Both of us with icy calmness.

The parking sounds horrid. And that's not good for people who are crippled and in a wheelie.

And why are the restrooms made for midgets? Sounds ridiculous.

Here's to you for surviving a day from hell. :-)

Purplegimp said...

St. Gracie, did you doubt for a minute that payback would be delayed? I am actually enjoying it, in spite of the pain and inconvenience of it all.I do wish you were here to help with it all, but I fear we'd end up in jail. Cripple parking and gimp demonstrations aside, our cops aren't as easy to bamboozle as the ones over there!
Israelis tend to not be quite as tall as Westerners..........but it's improving. Low toilets are the bane of my existence, but, with help at hand, I manage!
For the most part it was a good day. Golan and I manage to joke our way through most things

pepperhawk said...

Lucie, I never doubted for one moment you'd get your payback some way. You did a bang up job, I must say. All out spree it was.

Oh, I didn't know that locals are shorter than Americans, and of course u would be taller than most like me.

I would think those toilets are a bane of your existence. They would be bad for me too. Sometimes the stalls in restaurants here are so tiny, you can barely turn around unless you're a midget.

Good ole Golan. At least you two got good laughs outta the events.

Purplegimp said...

They aren't ALL short, but I'd say that on average they are. They are getting taller, though, and furniture and counters are growing higher too. There were times when I felt like a giant amongst midgets here.
Golan is such a good sport about things like that. And was he ever glad he wasn't driving!