Coffee heat rising

Escaped from the Mayo

Okay..well…I guess I’m not quite ready to shuffle off this mortal coil. That notwithstanding, a visit to the Mayo Hospital does little to persuade me of that. LORDIE, how I hate hospitals, and how I hate that one in particular!

By the time we left that sylvan realm, my angry son and I were speaking to each other more or less politely. Sorta. So there’s some hope that we’ll get back to normal in a day or three.

Miserable experience, though.

***

How much longer do I have in this sylvan vale, really? 

Well…that’s no easier to tell for me than it is to tell for anyone else. My guess is, if I don’t get any sicker than I am (which isn’t very), we’re looking at five to ten years. But if I follow in the family Tradition of Extreme Longevity, it could be another twenty to twenty-five years.

Twenty-five: no, I would not expect. But twenty: that wouldn’t be very surprising. Women in my family have lived to advanced old age…and without medical care, because they were Christian Scientists.

Sometimes I think that the very reason they lived into their dotage was that they stayed away from doctors and hospitals.

Today’s experience at the Mayo was enough to cause you to hear the sylvan call of the Other World, that’s for damn sure. All afternoon with a needle stuck in my arm, miserable hurting scared annoyed pissed in the dark as to what was really happening… How CAN i count the ways….?

Well, I never want to go back there, that’s for sure. But since the Mayo is the best medical facility in the Valley — very possibly in the whole state — this surely was not my last adventure in those parts.

Ugh. Maybe I should convert to Christian Science…

Cross and Crown emblem

Hubs of Hades, Redux

Three-thirty in the afternoon. High, magnificent white clouds off to the north…but nary a sign of rain here in the Valley. Wunderground says we have 114 degrees; humidity 11%; precip zero.

That, my friends, is another way of saying “hotter than the hubs of Hades.” 

The hapless woman my son hired to babysit me — he thinks I can’t take care of myself alone anymore — is bored out of her mind. The reason I’m unlikely to get hurt while I’m sitting around all day by myself is that…

* I go noplace;
* I do nothing;
* I sit around watching the dog as she does nothing.

Oh, well. If that’s how he wants to spend his money, far be it from me to contradict him.

Haven’t persuaded the poor lady to drive me to any stores or other amusements, mostly because I don’t need any new provisions and surely do not want to go out in that unholy heat.

What to do? How to deal with this new headache?

Well…

1. Make a list of things that need to be done (or at least can be done) while I’m under her control.

2. Be nice to the poor soul. She’s probably as terrorized as I am about this whole wacky thing.

3. Since my son has cut off my driving privileges, get her to drive me to stores (even those within walking distance) at least several times a week.

4. I walk a couple miles every day, for exercise. See if she would like to come along on these walks, after the weather gets cool enough that we could leave around the time she gets here.

Godlmighty, this fiasco is making me crazy. Pretty clearly, I’ve passed a milepost on the road to senility. And some major changes are going to have to be made to accommodate that. The big hope — the big stumbling block — the big screaming nightmare…is that I’m not yet so batshit that I have to be locked up in an institution.

I hate, loathe, and despise communal living. Hated every minute of living in the college dormitories. And that is NOT the way I want to wrap up my life.

This job will be made tougher for our New Lady by the fact that I refuse to pay for television. I will be DAMNED if I’m gonna pay to have advertising shoved in my face. Plus about 90% of what’s on TV is just not worth paying for.

So…that means she doesn’t have any pap to amuse her when she’s here. She must think I’m even crazier than I am. And she must be excruciatingly bored.

So…THAT means we’ll have to come up with things to do and places to go while she’s here. Better confer with her along those lines: mostly to find out what she likes to do and figure out when and where we can go for those things.

Also must ask my son if he thinks we should go ahead and pay for cable TV, so she will have some drivel to watch while she’s here. I’d just as soon not have brainless blah blah blah emanating from one of the rooms, but…if that’s what it takes to keep some poor soul in our employ, I guess I’ll have to get used to it.

{sigh}

Guess I’ll have to get used to the whole damn fiasco!

I Want My Mother Back

She was murdered, y’know. My mother was.

She was murdered by the tobacco bastards.

They got her hooked. And she smoked and smoked and smoked and smoked herself right into the grave.

So the evil greed-masters did her in.

Oh, well. We all have to die of something, eh?

She lived long enough to see her grandson. Briefly. My son was born while she was hammering at death’s door…there in her bed floating on drugs and soaking up pain. When I brought him to her, a newborn infant, and showed him to her as she lay on her deathbed, she took one brief look at him, shrugged, and said “Meh!”

Nope. She didn’t care that she had a grandson. She was too damn sick to care.

There ya go, folks! That’s what tobacco does for you. Makes you not care one thin damn about the people around you.

A lot has happened since that grim evening. My son is now a grown man with an excellent degree and a fine job. I’ve made myself unemployable by getting my own degree, a Ph.D. I’ve written books. We’ve traveled around the world. My son landed an excellent position in the insurance industry. Life has gone on.

I just wish her life had gone on, too…

Ohhhh well. You can’t have everything, eh?

So much evil in this world. So much of it manufactured for profit…

Gone Good Ole Days

You know you’re too old when the “Good Old Days” appear, in your mind, to be infinitely better than the BS we encounter nowadays.

Example at hand: Today my son is dragging me out to the Mayo Clinic for some sort of annoying consultation with one of their quacks. Nothing was said to me about this until THIS MORNING. So now I have to clean myself up and get dressed and figure out what on EARTH to say to the quack of the day (no two are ever the same out there). I have no idea why this appointment was made, and exactly no desire to waste a third to half the day driving halfway to Timbuktu, sitting around their waiting room, mumbling on to some doctor who neither knows nor cares what (if anything) ails me, and then trudging all the way back across the Valley to get home.

In the “Good Old Days,” the Mayo Clinic was right up the road from our neighborhood. It was a ten-minute drive to get to their parking lot, and a five-minute stroll into the building. Now we have to traipse to east Scottsdale for a consult.

The doctors there weren’t a lot less patronizing than the ones we now encounter on the far east side of Scottsdale. But my good old “Doctor in the Wild” (as the Mayo set calls doctors who work elsewhere) has moved to Sun City, of all things. So he’s lost me. Because…

a) Sun City is halfway to California from here. If I have to drive an hour each way, it’s gonna be…yeah…to a Mayo doctor, not to some guy practicing “in the wild.”

b) My son thinks the Mayo quacks can do no wrong. So…whatever they say — no matter how far out in left field — elicits no argument from his precincts. That…I suppose…is a good thing.

c) And in my (horrific!!!) experience, doctors who practice in Sun City can do no right.

The horror show that visited my mother when my parents’ bastardly, incompetent Sun City doctors attended her through her (hypochondriacal, we were told) death throes….oh, my! I wouldn’t go near another doctor who practices out there: not even the beloved Young Dr. Kildare.

At any rate: back to the Mayo. I cannot think of anything I’d LESS rather do than traipse all the way across the Valley (a 45-minute drive each way) to sit there and try to communicate with a doctor who assumes I’m a nit-wit.

Seriously: any which way you turn, it’s damned hard to find a doctor who is

a) competent;
b) humane;
c) not patronizing;
d) willing to pay attention to you;
e) can actually hear what you say;
f) and practices within reasonable driving distance of where you live.

And these are the reasons I’ve learned to loathe going to doctors. They don’t like women; they don’t like educated women; and they especially don’t like older women.

Escape from Saudi Arabia!

Did Angie Pangia and her doctor boyfriend tell my father that I had a mental problem and so needed to be removed from Saudi Arabia (where we had lived for the prior nine years) and brought back to the States to go to school?  More to the point: did they tell him my mother had amoebic dysentery and had to be treated for it in a Stateside hospital?

I think most likely the latter…he wouldn’t have given a damn that I was a weird, depressed little kid. But he sure wouldn’t have wanted his wife to die.

Angie, a registered nurse working in Aramco‘s Ras Tanura clinic, was one of my mother’s dearest friends. She surely would have known that my mother direly wanted and needed to return to the States, and she would have known that my mother’s unhappy child was pretty much off the rails out there.

That I was miserable to the point of neurosis wouldn’t have mattered to my father. But that my mother’s health and possibly her life were threatened by a case of amoebic dysentery would have mattered very much.

And that would have been enough to spur him to send us home. My near-suicidal depression barely registered with him — if it registered at all. But my mother’s biological disease certainly did register.

On the other hand, it was entirely likely that my mother DID have a roaring case of amoebic dysentery, potentially fatal.

A neighbor in Ras Tanura had us over for a celebratory farewell dinner, a week or two before we were slated to fly out. This one was named Luella. I watched her prepare the salad, and saw that she opted soaking the cabbage leaves in Clorox — as all the wives were instructed to do in classes required by the Company.

Being a kid and not the brightest of all kids, I failed to tell my mother that Luella had failed to sanitize the cabbage before serving it up to the assembled company…  And that was a BIG mistake.

So my mother spent spent weeks in the company clinic before she was sent home to spend more weeks in a stateside hospital.

The treatment for amoebic dysentery was, at the time, incredibly fierce. It — or the disease itself — made her deathly sick, indeed…and, I gather, could even have killed her. But then…the infection itself could have done her in.

Yes: my mother almost died just because a stupid woman couldn’t be bothered to sanitize the salad greens adequately.

At any rate, would my father have sent us home because my little peers’ meanness was driving me bonkers? Probably not. But my mother’s near-death experience did spur him to ship us back to California, whence we came.

A few months later, he arrived at the end of his Aramco contract and came back to the States to join us.

There he shipped out of the San Francisco Bay Area until he managed to retire, allowing himself, my mother, and (reluctantly) me to settle in lovely Arizona. He bought a house in Sun City, and there the two of them dwelt — free of the Brat, since young people were not allowed to live there. So it was off to the University of Arizona for me…allowing me to spend the next four years in Tucson.

Had a pretty good time there. Graduated Phi Beta Kappa. Got a job in a law firm and loafed for a spell before going on to graduate school.

Would I have settled in Southern California, given an opportunity? Probably not. I never liked it much. Smog is not my thing.

Instead I enrolled at Arizona State University and went on for the Ph.D., thereby rendering myself damn near unemployable. But….what the Hell…it was a good way to loaf away several years of youth, eh?

My father and mother stayed in Sun City: they loved it. Until her tobacco habit caught up with her and gifted her with a roaring case of cancer…. Shortly, she died.

He sold the cute little Sun City house and moved to an old-folkerie, where he met the Dragon Lady, whom he unfortunately married. Not given to divorce (“she’ll get all my MONEY!!”), he stayed with her until he dropped dead of a stroke: not the best way to wrap up the last few years of your life.

Poor guy. 

Oh, well…

Jumping on the Wagon!

Once again, as happens occasionally here at the Funny Farm, I take it into my head that I need to abjure alcohol. Once and for all. Onto the wagon, and don’t jump off!

😀

Seriously: my mother’s family were tee-totalers (far from what my parents were!). But come the next generation, she and my father enjoyed swiggling so much that they learned to make their own booze while we lived in Arabia (where alcohol was verboten), and then continued to brew their own after they moved to Sun City, Arizona.

Do I believe I drink too much?

Well…no, not of late. In the past, without doubt I have. But these days, I never drink more than one or two cocktails or glasses of wine in a day.

Now that I’m getting old, though, I’m thinking even that is too much. So, these days I’m do believe it’s time to knock it off altogether.

Let us see, then, if we who are the funny-looking human can make that happen!

Count: 1
Today is the first 100% booze-free day of the current effort!

Watch this space!