Archive | October, 2016

Monday, Monday!

31 Oct

I woke up a bit early today, and got out of the house a few minutes before 7 AM. That was pretty much the last thing that went well all day. Fortunately, I am working this week at one of the nicest places in the world, which made up for a lot. Good company and great people!

On the way to work, I got stuck behind not one, but two school buses. One turned off and another pulled in right behind it.  I was in such a hurry to make up for lost time that I sailed past my turn and had to crank up the GPS to find my way to the office. As a result, I was so late getting to work I had to look for a parking spot.

When I got into the office, I discovered Debbie had turned off the computer at the “box” and had left the phones turned on. I had to lift the box off the floor so I could find the switch, and just let the phone ring off the hook, as I can’t locate extensions without the computer. When I went to lunch, I dropped a glass of water all over the cafeteria floor.

When I left work I couldn’t remember where I parked my car. And traffic was backed up for over a mile on Sunshine Avenue, due to an accident.

Bless him, The Squire had dinner ready to put on the table, and sharpened pencils waiting with the day’s cross word puzzles. I’m going to take a hot shower and collapse someplace.

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Saved By The Clock

30 Oct

This morning Blazer woke me by standing outside the bedroom door and “talking” – complaining quite loudly that he was starving and what was I going to do about it? I pried open one eye and looked at the clock. 7:05. A fine thing! I don’t have to get up until 8:30 on Sunday because I don’t eat breakfast before I go to church. Grumbling mightily (The dog isn’t the only one who can do that.) I staggered out of bed and went downstairs to put him out, figuring I’d go back to bed and sleep for another hour or so.

Much to my horror, it was actually five after eight! The clock, which is propelled by some mysterious mechanism based in outer space, had assumed Daylight Savings had stopped, and rested overnight, to reset itself to Standard Time.  (The clock also tells us what day of the week it is, which, with both of us being retired, often comes in handy.)

I am just grateful that this little goblin did not attack tomorrow morning, and make me an hour late getting ready for work. That would have been a catastrophe!

Here We Go Again

28 Oct

Last night, The Squire came in to say – and show me – that his tummy was all red and swollen, worse than it’s been so far. “I’m going to call the doctor first thing in the morning.”

He had a very rough night last night, and when he staggered, bleary-eyed and wretched, into the den, I made soothing noises and went off to fix his breakfast. Normally, this chore is handled by him, not me, but I really felt sorry for him.

At 9:05 I handed him the phone. He laid it back on the desk and informed me he wasn’t going to bother. “It looks better this morning, so I’ll just wait.”

“Fine. You just do that. But do not wake me at some ungodly hour and ask me to race you to the ER.”

I swear, with the right jury…

 

What’s Wrong With This Picture?

26 Oct

This morning, I woke up at 6 AM. Fed the animals, inside and out, ate, showered, and took the dog for a mile-long walk at the park.

Those who know and love me (and even those who don’t even like me) realize this behaviour is wildly out of character.

I have always needed more sleep than the average bear. Even as a small child, I took two naps a day until I started school, and always took a nap when I got home, until my dad came in and wakened me for dinner. On one memorable occasion, I declared to my grandmother that I was NOT tired, and wanted to stay up and visit with the company. She took me downstairs and showed me that everybody else was sacked out on the sofa and chairs in the family room. (I realize now that they were all faking!) I reluctantly trudged back up the steps and again declared I was not the least bit sleepy. “Close your eyes and see if you can fool us.”

Well, I fooled them. I slept for  eighteen hours! Apparently, I was the only one in the house who got any rest, as everybody else kept coming in to see if I was still breathing.

I also managed to sleep through a fire drill when I was at Samuel Ready. All I can tell you is that I woke up with my “dungarees” over my pajama bottoms, but everybody was talking about the bells going off, and the fact that we had all gotten up and dressed, and stood outside on the Athletic Field.  Couldn’t prove it by me.

Another Day, Another Funeral

23 Oct

Really, we have to stop this business.

Yesterday, we had a funeral at our church for the son of one of our members. Tony had moved away, but his mum wanted him buried here, and so we did. Since we no longer have a rector, a former priest was called in, at the family’s request.  Fr. Al has become very frail in the last six years, and it was painful to watch, but he soldiered on, and seemed to enjoy visiting old friends.

Today, we came home after service, grabbed some lunch and then galloped off to the memorial service for an old friend. Fr. Eads was a close friend of my dad’s, and the priest who baptized The Squire and then married the two of us. He was 82, and had retired in 1989, after serving Christ Church for forty years.  An entire generation at the same church, and many of his former parishioners were in attendance.

I got a chuckle from the acolyte. When the service was over, she extinguished the candles, and then pulled out the skirt of her cassock, put one foot behind her, and dropped a curtsey at the altar.

My dad had always wanted to be a priest, and had joined the Navy when he was a young man, as they had promised to send him to seminary to be a chaplain. When WWII broke out, they needed him for other things, and by then he was married to my Lutheran-by-Gum mother, and although he was very active in the church, he never made it to seminary. It was Fr. Eads, the rector at Christ Church, who convinced him he could finally realize his dreams and set Daddy on the road to Sewanee.  He was one of our favorite people. And I know my dad was glad to see him.

 

 

Men! (Part the Second)

17 Oct

Well, at least The Squire waited until 6:30 this morning to awaken me and say the pain was much worse, and he had a red streak running up his side. He was only going to tell me he was driving himself to the hospital, and I could arrange to have somebody take me down later to pick up the car, but I got up and dressed and dropped him off myself.

At least he didn’t just tip-toe out and leave me a note.

I ended up going back to collect him about 1PM, this time with a prescription for a cream. The new doctor thinks he has a rash. Who knows? Five Guys now serves a veggie sandwich, so we stopped there for lunch. The Squire had, for better or worse, gone to the ER NPO, and was so hungry he was shaking.

We got the clothes on the line, and then went up to see Local Grandson and his wife. They just welcomed a new baby last Sunday, and he is leaving on Tuesday afternoon to fly to the Middle East with the Air Force Reserves.  Hugs and tears all around. Fortunately, he is an airplane mechanic, and will be on base pretty much exclusively. That AA degree in mechanical engineering came in pretty handy, and the fact that he didn’t qualify as a pilot makes it even better.

We will miss that young man furiously for the next three months. Pray for his safety.

 

 

Men!

16 Oct

For several weeks, The Squire has been complaining about a pain in his belly. And, for several weeks, I have been telling him to call and make an appointment with the doctor.

This morning, at 0-dark ugly, he slammed into the bedroom to tell me the pain was so bad he needed to go to the ER.

We got there at 6:45, and when I left at 9:30 the only thing they had done was to take his vitals. He called me at 10:30 to say they had drawn blood, and again at 11:15 to say he was in a cubbyhole and had seen a doctor, who had also marveled over his poor CMT feet* and ordered an IV, because he was dehydrated. Last time he got dehydrated, they kept him for four days.

At 2:00 he called to say they had done a sonogram, and were going to take him down for a CAT scan.

In between, I got a call from Eldest Daughter and the Rector’s Warden. We never miss church, and today, of all days, I was scheduled to be chalicist, so this caused a certain amount of consternation.

The Squire called again at 4PM to say he was free to go. When I picked him up he said they had wanted to keep him for IV therapy, but he refused. Gee, thanks, Boss. So, he has two prescriptions, which he can’t fill until tomorrow morning, and he will call the doctor, by gum. And don’t tell me if you get seriously dehydrated; I’m not buying it.

It’s a good thing I love that man, that’s all I can say.

— – – – – –

*This is pretty much SOP. We can’t begin to count the doctors (other than neurologists) who have told us “I studied CMT* in medical school, but I’ve never actually seen a patient.”  This is why we have both donated our bodies to science.

*Charcot-Marie-Tooth is a genetic degenerative demyelination of the peroneal nerves. (And doesn’t that sound impressive?)  As the nerves die, the muscles wither. If you develop it as a child, the bones “warp”, but if it kicks in when you are an adult, the pain is so unbearable that sufferers often have a limb amputated to release the tension of the muscles pulling against the tendons and bones. It was named for the three doctors who first described it: Jean-Martin Charcot, Pierre Marie, and Henry Howard Tooth.