The temperature climbed past 90 degrees. The Curmudgeon, like a damned fool, went out to check his truck after the incident with the DB.
Only a few minutes in the driveway resulted in him struggling to get back in the house and spending the rest of the day in a very weakened condition.
I hate MS.
The Curmudgeon’s shirt for the day
Yes, a neighbor banged on our door to tell us there was a dead body in our driveway.
This was not a Halloween type prank. There really was a dead human being in our driveway.
She was about 30 years old. She had blond hair.
According to sources in the police department, they believe she was with her husband when she collapsed from a drug overdose. He took off and left her there.
Drug addicts more often think of themselves and what would happen if they called for help and were found stoned. They do not think that maybe if they call for help the person who is dying could be helped.
So we watched the long, slow process of them collecting evidence, taking pictures, and measurements, and doing all the things they need to do before they could take her away.
The Curmudgeon stayed out on the porch for as long as he could but had to go inside because the heat was getting to him.
We talked about how sad it was. How frightening to happen here in our neighborhood. Worse, how we heard nothing. How he never stopped to ask for help for her.
Police tape kept the crowds at a distance. Hopefully, enough to give her some dignity. After all she is human and does deserve some dignity.
Cop cars leaving
It is extremely important that I get out of the house once in a while.
So G and I went on an outing to Target. The Curmudgeon wanted a DVD (Wonder Woman), I needed more Flonase and Claritin, and G and I needed to go out to lunch.
We met a nice gal our age in Target and spent quite a bit of time engaging her in a lively conversation. It was fun.
After Target we went to Applebees for lunch. We had a lovely lunch combo of fire roasted chicken salad wraps and Thai salads.
Now I get to spend the rest of the week shut in with The Curmudgeon.
Went grocery shopping and, although I had pared my list down, all that good for me food my weight doctor wants me to use cost us three times as much. I swear I walked over 5 miles while shopping, having to hunt things down.
Is there any wonder there’s an obesity epidemic in the US?
Now with certain Governors dropping their state’s minimum wages to below poverty level, I’m sure we’ll see even more.
The Republican Congress and Senate wants to kill off as many of us as they can any way they can.
Then there’s that orange idiot in charge who, in actuality, hates all people and hates you even more if you aren’t lily white. His only love is of himself.
And all of them are telling us we need to:
After a diagnosis of strep throat.
Like the very next day.
I had what they are calling reactive airway disease with wheezing.
In other words…I couldn’t freaking breathe…I was moving no air through my lungs.
And I was scared silly.
Therefore I am armed with a rescue inhaler, am on antibiotics for the strep, and a tapering dose of prednisone.
Lucy has taken it upon herself to tell me I need my inhaler when I start wheezing and coughing in my sleep.
2 puffs every 4 hours. Yep, she has it down pretty well.
We have The Curmudgeon’s appointments out of the way.
His are a logistics nightmare. Making sure he is ready to go an hour before the appointment because he will invariably have to find at least ten things to do when we should be walking out the door. Then getting him to the van and loading him and his rollator into it.
Making sure I have all the paperwork he needs to have on hand to fill out all the paperwork they want filled out–yeah, paperless my Aunt Fanny.
Seems every single time we go to any of his doctors they have a mountain of paper work for him to fill out. Well, he can’t see that well and his writing is unreadable so can you guess who gets to fill everything out?
I often question the line “are you afraid of being hurt?”
If the caregiver is the one filling out the form and if they are abusive… how would they answer that one?
Must be the mystery writer in me.
I’m not making light of the importance of that question just the fact that I see so many caregivers are the ones filling out the questionnaires. Maybe they should have a couple of designated questionnaire writers for impaired patients because having the possible abuser filling them out defeats the purpose of the question.
Besides, I am so tired of filling those things out that I want to scream when they hand me a stack of papers.
Next appointment is mine. I go alone. I take my kindle. I am ready in plenty of time. I relax.
My newest Tee
Before my back gave out, I managed to fill three huge trash cans with vines, tree branches, and weeds.
Our over-grown jungle of a yard doesn’t look like I touched it at all.
Tomorrow begins the first of three days of doctor appointments in a row, two for him one for me.
I predict a few delivery meals this week.
The Curmudgeon is wearing this shirt to his neurologist appointment .
While you go through your day, please pause, take some time, and remember…
Never forget… 9/11
Night time temperatures down to the low fifties.
Having to actually close windows here and there.
Thinking about soups and stews for dinners.
Dreading the piles of leaves to come.
Wishing winter would hold off and be short and mild. Hearing all sorts of forecasts of a nasty winter to come. Not happy.
At least it is good sleeping weather.
Sadly, the federal government is preparing to cut money that would help the people of Texas in rebuilding their lives.
Instead, the idiot in chief and his cronies will be stripping FEMA of funds along with wherever else they can pillage to build that stupid wall and give billionaires more tax breaks.
I think it’s time to get a passport update and get out of here.
I need to convince Lucy that going upstairs doesn’t always mean it’s bath time. Yeah, she hates them.
I want her to get used to sleeping upstairs with me instead of on the couch with me.
I am dying to get back to using my bed again. It’s been two years since I slept in my own bed due to The Curmudgeon and also Gavin’s ill health at the end.
Problem is, now she’s so used to sleeping on the couch with me she won’t sleep in her crate at night. So I’d just as soon get her to sleep on the bed with me if I can get her past the dreaded bath.
Lot of good that did, I woke with an aura–the beginning of a migraine for me. I haven’t had a migraine in well over a year.
I hate seeing that aura. It means I get to spend the rest of the day feeling rather crappy. If I take migraine medicine as soon as I see the aura I don’t get the head splitting headache but I do still get the slight nausea and general mild headache for 24 hours. Feels like a mild hangover.
This is close to what my aura looks like, only it’s more cross hatched than wavy, is super bright, starts as a tiny spot in the lower right corner of my vision and grows to block my sight completely if I don’t take the medicine. Luckily mine are now controlled with over the counter medicines instead of prescription ones, and they are very few and far between. They used to be hormonally triggered now it is stress and/or petroleum fumes of any kind that triggers them.
The dehumidifier has run for a full day and over night. There is a noticeable difference in how humid the basement is.
It is about half of what it was.
I’m actually able to tolerate it down there enough to get laundry done.