Friday, December 23, 2016

Fun investment.

I feel like I am a total loser failure. I know I’m not - not really, but that is how I FEEL. (Also? It’s a cool, grey day with a light drizzle. Oh joy.)

I got so lost in Greater Saint Louis yesterday, trying to find my heart specialist. 5 times lost. It began with going to the wrong location, and went downhill from there. Finally, at the desk of the heart and vascular building, the nice woman looked up my doctor and said, “Oh, he’s not here. You need to go…” and that’s when I started crying. (It was my fault not having asked two weeks ago for precise directions. I am usually so prepared with maps and written directions.)

So the nice woman got a wheelchair and wheeled me through secret passages and along quiet corridors and down on the elevator and finally delivered me to the right place. I was only 1 minute late for my appointment. I hate getting so upset because it seems to take days to recover and today I am still recovering.

Then there was the bank statement kerfluffle. It was figured out and it was my fault, too. Shit. But, no harm, no foul.

Is this what getting older means? Making stupid mistakes all the time? That’s a legitimate fear to have.

Good things are these: the bank thing was solved by phone, meaning I didn’t have to leave the house and also, I ordered Chinese take out for lunch so I didn’t have to cook.

Other good thing: I have sold a bunch of my little knit socks earrings, and 4 more will be picked up tomorrow. I still need to knit 2 of those pair, but that will be a nice chore. I have been knitting and watching Amazon video, in particular Forensic Files. Love that show! 22 minutes per episode and all loose ends get wrapped up. Very satisfying.

Okay, here’s a bad thing, good thing. Something got into the chicken coop after my girls! When? I don’t know! I lifted up the lid to check for eggs in the nest box, and this is what I saw!

Where are they? What happened here?

And then I noticed this!

I feared the worst, because I didn't see any of the hens, so I made my Come and Get It call - Cheeep Cheep Cheeep and Porkchop came running. She's fine, if a little worse for wear. She had a wound on her wing, not too bad. I put anti-robotic on it.) The other two girls were outside the fence, but they were alive still.

This is Dorothy. Looks like she got a hunk of feathers torn out. (She wouldn't let me pick her up to check.) I'm thinking cat. I'm also thinking Porkchop fought whateveritwas off, because she can be quite aggressive.

So, tonight they will be totally cooped up. If they were younger pullets, I am not sure they would have survived this attack.

Thursday, December 15, 2016

I'm a Doctor, Jim, not a sheep herder!

So this makes me happy. Love me some Vince.

And this scene makes me happy, too, in a subversive way. As always, clicking embiggens.

Monday, December 12, 2016

Releives joint discomfort

I fucking hate people sometimes. often. Especially stupid people. One of our Arts Council's board member's husband is gravely ill. I asked the other members to maybe make some food for them, and I would deliver it. One would think I asked them an algebra question. What should I make? they ask. Food, godamit. It is not hard. Soup. Fucking chex mix. Sandwiches. I have been angry about this all morning and I thought that if I put it on virtual paper, I might feel better. I mean, I try to do something nice and now it has turned into an organizational nightmare. Fuckers.

So. I am seeing another cardiologist, after my last one, Dr. Tran and his team at the Missouri Heart Center dropped me through a crack in their system. LSS, I had a procedure in JULY, for fuck's sake, and was sent home with a paper saying they would contact and make an appointment for me. I quote: Dr. Tran's office will contact you to set up an appointment with Dr. Botteron. Nobody fucking contacted me and I kept waiting, feeling sicker as summer dragged on. So when I finally did call them, I figured something would happen. When I called again, a week later, I was told that my previous call had been duly posted in my record. And not a damn thing had been done. So, I lost my mind. And burst into tears. You know, tears do work, but the situation should never have happened where tears were needed. So, fuck them. And the horse they came in on.

I asked my primary care provider to set me up with a new cardiologist in her network. I have seen the new guy. He spent time with me and seemed to really listen and I have an appointment with the even-more-specialist next week. What I like about this group is that they use email, as though they actually exist in the 21st century. They are in contact with me. Novel!

The solstice approaches. Another month of darkness by 5 pm. A new year, an imaginary new slate, a fresh calendar. I am doing my best to keep my mood up, although it's hard. I've gained weight. Not a lot, but 5 pounds makes a difference in how some of my clothes fit. I do try to eat right and I do try to walk 8-12 blocks with the dogs daily, but still.

It could be worse. I know. I could be in war torn Syria. So, I'm trying hard to cheer up, to keep upbeat, to try and not melt away into despair. Even though the president-elect makes me sick in the pit of my stomach.

I've been knitting, so there's that. Socks for Sweetie, maybe 3 pair this month. Last night I began the Baa Baa Bobble hat and am up to the sheep, and it's interesting and fun enough. Makes me eager to finish each round. I listen to No Such Thing as a Fish. That makes me happy. They are on Youtube also, with No Such Thing as the News. And we watched the first season of True Detective last week and we were both sucked in deep. And I've been trying to read Version Control, which is about time travel, but don't call it that! It makes me dream about time travel!

But one last thing. Both Sweetie and his younger brother have bad feelings about December 2017. Sweetie's take happens on the 17th, brother's on the 27th. Bad like in the world coming to an end. Well, that has scared me. I hope it is closer to home, some tragedy in the family, and not some huge meteor or something. Still, Sweetie wants us to be in Iceland by the 14th of December.

So, that's a plan.