Coffee heat rising

Owwwwww!!!!

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Was it REALLY only a day ago that I was whinging on and on about the pain in the hip?

Feels more like about a year. HURT? Hoooleee Gawd, does it HURT! To get up the hallway from the bedroom to the kitchen & front of the house, I have to stick out my arms and balance myself on the walls, s-l-o-o-o-w-l-e-e-e limping along. Every step — every s-l-l-o-o-w, interminable step — HURTS. 

M’hijito will soon be on his way over here to tote me out to the damn Mayo Clinic. Is there a REASON we couldn’t first (pleeze!) visit one of the nearby hospitals?  Hell, no! Nothing will do but the (putative) best: the Mayo.

The Mayo is in Scottsdale. On the freakin’ far side of Scottsdale: a good half-hour trek each way. And that’s just to get there and back. I can’t drive in the state I’m in (even had he not purloined my car some time back). And so now he has to take a half-day off work — which he sure as hell can’t afford to do — to drag me across the city.

What a fukkin’ waste of time and gasoline!

Young Dr. Kildare used to practice right up the road. He, however, fled our sylvan dales to take up his career in Sun City: halfway to California from here. So it’s as far to YDK’s office as it is to the Mayo…and M’hijito does NOT trust any doctors other than those at the Mayo.

Myself, I can’t tell much difference. A good doctor is a good doctor. A narrow-minded dimwit is a narrow-minded dimwit. Doesn’t much matter where they practice.

{sob!} What a gorgeous day. This is the time, this is the day to be walking with Ruby the Corgi from one side of Timbuktu to the other.

But nooooo. Here I am, barely able to hobble across the room, waiting for my excellent and long-suffering son to come pick me up and drag me out to the far side of Scottsdale.

Just the gawdawful drive out there and back eats up over an hour of his work day. And that doesn’t count trudging through the garage and across the grounds and around the clinic to get to the doc’s office. So that means any time he drags me out to the Mayo, he gets in trouble with his employer

Legally, an employer is not allowed to fire you for taking time off to go to a doctor — or, interestingly, for having to drive a sick relative to the doctor. So…he’s not likely to get canned for today’s excursion. But you can be sure he’ll be swamped with fell-behind work and nagged interminably by the bosses.

I probably could get the Uber driver who lives across the street to schlep me out there — to the tune of about a million bucks. But (he being no fool) M’hijito likes to be present at the pow-wows with the docs. Which is good: years of unpleasant experience have left me aversive as hell where doctors are concerned. And no doubt I often barely hear what they say…in my eagerness to get out of their office.

GOD, I hate going to doctors!

When I was an infant — this was a year or two before we went out to Arabia, and I just turned three when we arrived in those sandy realms — as an infant I almost died at the hands of a brilliant doctor. One evening, hospital staff told my mother I would be dead by morning.

Can you imagine?

Well, they seem to have been wrong. I’ve 0utlived her, the poor woman. And she lived almost to a ripe old age. Would have made it ripeness if she hadn’t smoked herself into the grave.

Tobacco manufacturers and vendors should be prosecuted as the murderers that they are…

Oop! Sorry: sidetracked!

But seriously: if you smoke, quit. Someone is getting rich on your dying. A number of someones, actually. Cut the ba*tards off in their tracks!

Oh well: speaking of tracks, I seem to be easily sidetracked this morning.

Ohhh damn. Here he is!

 

YOWCH!!!!

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Ouch, every which way from Sunday! In the hip. In the feet. In spavined fingers… Every goddamwhich way from Sunday!

Thank HEAVEN for Amazon! Honestly: I have NO idea how on earth I would cope if somehow I had to traipse to the store for everygoddamthing the dog and I need. Just walking up the hallway between the bedroom and the kitchen hurts, HURTS, and then HURTS some more!

At any rate, now we have a new bag of dawg food ordered. Yes: WITHOUT having to pay for an Uber ride, WITHOUT having to hike four blocks (+++) to the stores, WITHOUT damn near crippling my idiot self to retrieve a couple of ordinary, boring daily items.

So, now we’re set for several more days. Much is it to be hoped that by then I’ll be recovered enough from whatever ails me to negotiate the neighborhood shopping.

We can’t easily get fresh food by ordering it on Amazon. But…really, that only needs to be purchased about once a week. And we’ve discovered a fine GODSEND here in the ‘Hood: a guy directly across the street(!!!) is driving an Uber cab!!!!

Wow: what incredible luck, eh?

At any rate, now all I have to do is stumble over to his house and beg him to schlep me around, and voilà! Problem solved.

Great galloping ZOT, am I tired of hurting. 

Long as I’m laying on the bed, the body seems sorta OK — but o’course, wouldn’cha know: that’s an illusion. The instant I get off the sack...ohhhhh my gawd! The back hurts. the hip hurts, the feet hurt, the…everygoddamthing hurts.

Well…it doesn’t seem to be terminal, anyway. With any luck, in a few days Whatever This Is will settle down, and then the Dawg and I can go on about our dog-‘n’-human business in our wonted fashion.

In the meantime… Kid, don’t get old. Gettin’ old freakin HURTS!

Ah hah! Back IN!

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Thought WordPress had locked me out of Funny about Money. But nay! Here we are!!

Actually, M’hijito is probably the one who got me back in. He’s in the study right now, wrestling with the computer and the Internet. Must say: you have to own a LOT more IQ points than I do in order to make this online stuff work. The frustration level is bracing.

Oh well…we’re back online. Fully.

Also bracing, in the Department of Frustration, is trying to work with doctors when you’re chronically ill. And that, alas, is the predicament in which I find myself.

One runs into any number of roadblocks, here in this predicament:

* Doctors often only half-listen to you. Consequently, they miss much of what you say.

* They are right and you are wrong. No argument, you!

* If you are a woman, you are by nature stupid.

* If you are a woman, you are  by nature wrong.

* Often they will prescribe an OTC drug — or even a prescription drug — without being fully aware of all its potential side effects. These side effects can be highly unpleasant, and some are even dangerous.

You see: this is WHY, over the years, I’ve developed an aversion to medical care. And to doctors. It also is why, whenever a doctor prescribes a drug, I look it up in the PDR (Physician’s Desk Reference) before I gulp it down!  

When you do this regularly, often you realize that your doctor has not looked up a given prescription drug, does not know its potential side effects, and even — incredibly enough! — does not realize it should not be given for your specific ailment.

And that’s the issue: Too often, doctors don’t fully understand what they’re giving you. Not because they’re incompetent. But because they’re busy; they’re overworked; they’re going by what they’ve heard from a colleague or at some conference; and because they assume they know better than you. Especially if you’re a woman.

So, as you can imagine, I’ve about had it. 

Work Life: Movin’ On

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A middle-aged man of my acquaintance — early middle age, but still: no kid — recently lost his job. Canned for no great fault of his, but you may be sure the ex-employer will try to foist blame on him by way of minimizing post-employment payments.

{sigh} I think what would I do if I were in his work boots? 

Well: obviously, my goal would be to move on in the most efficient and effective way: a) to get into a new job ASAP, and  b) to land a salary that would be as much as I was earning in the former salt mine — and preferably more.

Whew! We don’t ask much, eh? /eyeroll/

First thing to do, IMHO, would be to give myself a couple weeks of vacation time, simply to decompress. And during that time, think about what I’d really like to do and how to pull it off. Continue in the same line of work? Change careers? Go back to school for a degree that might open new doors? Apply for a job as a dog-catcher? Or…what?

This would be the time to look carefully at what’s out there: what kinds of jobs are available in your area, what openings exist, and what qualifications do you need. Also it may be a good time to consider whether you want to get a new degree or course of vocational training that would aim you in a new direction.

Next would be to network…network…network. Let all your friends know you’re in the market for a new job. But also join trade and professional groups (if you’re not already in at least a couple of them), show up at their meetings, and let those folks know you’re looking for fresh work, too.

Neither of these strategies, of course, guarantees that you’ll get any new opportunities…but sitting on your hands certainly will guarantee that.

Another avenue might be to go back to school: get into a graduate program or sign up for a new vocational training course. Several obvious advantages here, above and beyond keeping yourself busy: strong potential for networking opportunities, easy way to spiff up the résumé, and something constructive to keep your mind off your troubles.

Then…just keep on keepin’ on!

If you’re wanting to get hired by a new employer, start applying for jobs and keep on applying.

If you think you might like to start your own business, join a couple of networking and business groups. Show up: make friends, tell them what you can do for them, follow any leads they give you.

If you want to change careers, figure out what you think you want to do next, learn how to establish your qualifications for it, and dive in!

As you might have guessed, none of the options will be easy. But all of them are better than sitting on your hands. So…  Forward! Head on down that lonesome road…

Pain, Pain, and More Pain!

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Omigawd. Wanna hear about hurt?  Lemme tellya HURT. 

For reasons unknown, my right hip is massively spavined. Seriously: I have no idea why or what caused it: must have twisted around funny in my sleep. All I know is that the joint hurts SO MUCH that I’d classify it as about the worst pain I’ve ever had. And I delivered my baby without anaesthesia….

Yeah, no kidding: labor doesn’t hurt as much as this old bat’s monthly periods. Nowhere near that much. So I didn’t realize I was in labor until we got to the hospital and the kid was hopping out into the world.

😀  😮 😀

ohhhh welll…. Just now we are enjoying a bit of palpable pain.

M’hijito is working. Doubt if it registers with him how much the old bat is hurting.

Doesn’t matter, anyway. A spavined hip joint ain’t fatal. If I show up at the ER going wah wah! my leg hurts!!, I’m gonna get ignored, ignored, and then ignored some more. So…shee-ut! Why bother?

 

 

And When I Said “One of Those Days”…

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Plumber visited. Gouged me $400 to fix the toilet and attendant piping. AND — get this!!!!! — tried to make a pass at me!

No kidding; he actually groped me, like I was a 17-year-old kid!!!

Yeah: ME. The cranky old bat who’s olde enough to be his grandmother.

So…that company won’t be invited back.

😀

What on earth does get into people?

DAMN it! Now I’ll have to find a new plumbing company. I think these are the same guys who work for the WonderAccountants across the street…and if so, that means I’ll have to search afield — possibly far afield — to find a new plumber.

Seriously:

WHAT. A. DAY!