Coffee heat rising

Health care

AAARRRRGHHH! Not to say “goddammit!”

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Just went out in back to enjoy this morning’s swiggle of coffee and…

Yeah:

Discovered that SOMEONE STOLE THE PILLOWS OFF THE BACK  PORCH CHAIRS. 

God.

Damm.

It.

!!!!!!!

I made those pillows myself, to fit the chairs. With some difficulty, we might add. Had to drive clear across west Phoenix to get the cushions and the fabric.

And now all but one of them is gone.

Yeah. The considerate thief left me ONE pillow to sit on. 

Ohhhhkayyyyyyy….given my decrepitude, is it possible that in a Senior Moment I stashed them in the garage or a closet to keep them out of the rain?

a) What rain???
b) What closet???

And c) NOOOO. Nope. No stack of lawn-chair pillows in any of the closets, in the garage, in the storage shed…nooooo where. 

So pretty clearly, somebody stole them.

Isn’t that cute?

I’ll have to electrify the next set, eh? Booby-trapped lawn chairs! 😀

GGGAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

I dunno what is going on these days, but of late everything that comes my way makes me angry as hell. 

The other Latest Goddam Outrage is that to get a covid shot around here you have to traipse to your doctor and get a prescription! 

Yeah. Kill an hour of your time driving around and sitting in a waiting room and yakking with the quack to get a 30-second jab!

What?

The?

Fuck?

I have yet to jump through those hoops — or to drive an hour out to the Mayo to talk MayoDoc into shooting me up. And so every breath  taken, presumably, risks laying me low with a potentially fatal respiratory infection.

That’s an hour each way. Yeah: TWO HOURS of driving time to get an ordinary drugstore shot.

It looks like having to extract a prescription for an ordinary flu or covid shot is going to be S.O.P. Sooo….I may have no choice!

My son thinks the Mayo can do no wrong, so at his behest all of his doctors and all of my doctors are working out there at the clinic.  Yeah: halfway to Bisbee.

Thus we’re talking about blowing away a whole afternoon to get a 20-second shot that has always been available at a pharmacy a ten-minute walk from my house!

Either that or taking a chance that maybe I won’t get the disease and praying for the best.

WTF???????

The Choirless Sunday Proceeds

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Hmmmmm…. So, the MayoQuacks are (again!) precluding my attending choir or even going to church by demanding that we traipse to the Mayo Clinic way to Hell and gone out in Scottsdale.

Yes. That’s damn near an hour’s drive. 

Not like my son has nothing else to do with his time, either — right?

This is NOT the first time the damn Mayo has scheduled — unilaterally, no feedback from the victim — an appointment on Sunday morning, on the f8cking far side of Scottsdale.

Why do they do that?  Why are they even open at all on Sundays, other than for emergency visits? Today’s junket is for a rather routine (if exceptionally annoying) test.

Most annoyingly, it’s not the first time they’ve done this. Apparently busting up the patient’s religious worship and weekend activities is S.O.P. with that bunch.

Appealing to M’hijito is pointless: he thinks the Mayo can do no wrong.

***

So…how is The Ailment coming along?

Therein lies the question, hm?

Frankly, I think it’s getting a little better. The crazy-making tingling has been gone — as in GONE gone — for a fair part of the morning (it’s ten to noon as we scribble). Just now, it’s back — possibly as a result of my pounding on the keyboard. But…no: the lip tingling is back, too…and…well, I don’t chew on the keyboard. 😀

I suspect the fact that the bzzzzzzzzzzz in the lips and hands died down for the past two or three hours is tryin’ to tell us something. It may be that this thing is just gonna take a long time to clear up, a little at a time.

Meanwhile, we get to waste our time, energy, and gasoline schlepping to the effin’ far side of effin’ Scottsdale.

And mean-meanwhile, a hefty list of grocery-store needs awaits. I’m hoping I can get my beleaguered son to take me to AJ’s Fancy-Dan Overpriced Grocery Store on the way home from Doctor Hell. Or at least to a Fry’s or a Safeway…we shall see.

****

Hmmmmmmm…..  Okay, I’ve gotten up from the beloved Thos. Moser rocking chair — a hard wooden affair — twice. And each time, standing up has NOT hurt!

What is the body tryin’ to say to us?

Well…we haven’t given it enough time to have a serious say: my sojourns in the rocker have been quite brief. A matter of minutes.

Míjito is presumably on his way over here as we scribble. So let’s try sitting here until he surfaces: with any luck, at least 15 or 20 minutes, but better: 30 or 40 minutes.

If sitting down in a non-sagging chair without wriggling that joint around is what makes it stop hurting,… well… we surely can arrange that. Every day, all the time, eh?

Or, if gently swaying back and forth in a wooden rocker makes it stop hurting…whaddaya bet we can manage that, too?

Please, please make it harder to get a covid shot!

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For the LOVE of Gawd!!!!  Did you know that they’re trying to force you to go to a doctor and get a prescription just to get a damn covid shot?

Nooooo effing kidding!!!!! 

This afternoon I trotted up to the Albertson’s, where staff were just beginning to demand that you show them a doctor’s prescription to get a covid vaccination.

Yeah.

Well: my doctor is at the Mayo Clinic, which is somewhere on the far side of the planet, halfway to China. To get that holy permission, I would have to drive NINETY MINUTES between here and northeast Scottsdale and back.  EACH WAY.

Thank you so much, Big Brother!

Fortunately, I squeezed in under the wire. But if I need another one, I’ll have to traipse halfway across the Valley for the privilege.

Not like we don’t have enough trouble getting the Dumb and the Feckless to take their vaccinations, eh?

Seriously: if I weren’t a microbiology freak and I didn’t understand about immunology, I would have just shrugged my shoulders, walked away, and forgotten about it.

’Til I was enjoying a hospital stay, presumably. 

She’s B-a-a-a-c-k!

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Zowie! I’m in!!

WordPress has been blocking me from signing into the Funny About Money website. Just did something — dunno what — that suddenly let me into the site.

Since I may not be able to get back, here’s an update, of sorts…

Things keep getting ridiculouser and ridiculouser. 

For myself: I’m slowly sinking into the Family Disease, which happens to be diabetes. Things go from bad to worse there: the Mayo Clinic has called the state and taken away my driving privileges, meaning I can’t even so much as drive to the grocery store.

Seriously: to buy food at the local market, I have to hike blocks through 100-degree heat! So much for “do no harm,”right?

Wouldn’t Hippocrates love it…

Meanwhile, my son has also fallen ill. Deeply worried about him…but what I can do about it, especially in my present condition, I can’t imagine.

And mean-meanwhile, it looks like there’s a good chance I may soon be dragged to an old-folk’s holding pen, very much against my will. Did you know they can force you into an old-folkerie? Even if you’re willing to hire someone to come to your home and care for you, apparently.

I need a lawyer. Mine dropped dead in his office.

No kidding. Apparently he was just standing there when he had a stroke and literally fell on the floor dead.

So now I have no one to help me through the biggest set of fiascos I’ve ever been through in my life. 

No one answers the phone at his office. Apparently where he had established himself was not a partnership but a sole proprietorship. It appears he was just renting space from the other lawyers in that office. So I can’t reach anyone to at least, for godsake, send me my file!

And I have NO IDEA how to deal with that.

He had written a will which, I hope, will protect my son and pass my property along to him. But…where IS that paperwork? 

My understanding is that wills and whatnot are filed with the County. But did he do that before he fell over dead? Don’t know, and don’t know how to find out.

When life turns into a fukkin’ nightmare, eh? 😮

As I scribble, it’s the wee hours of a Sunday morning. So I’ll have to wait until Monday to even try to get something done. Oh well: that gives a day in which to figure out how to try to get something done.

And mean-fukkin-while, GET THIS:

Some idiot called the state of Arizona and reported that I am being abused. 

No kidding!

The other day two social workers showed up at my front door, saying someone had called the state and told them I was being abused.

HUH?

By a pure miracle, Wonder-Cleaning Lady had been here that day, and so the house was spotlessly clean. I was neatly dressed and combed. So we sat in my clean and neat living room while we had a clean and neat conversation. They went on their way, apparently satisfied that I’m not being beaten and starved.

But of course, that means someone, somewhere is watching.

Yep: Big Brother is watching you…and me!

What kind trouble-maker would call up the state and sic a pair of social workers on me? That just escapes me. But it’s a big worry: will this also create problems for my son?

I simply have no idea. No experience with this kind of thing. And no imagination to picture whatever this trouble-maker might dream up next.

Meanwhile, one thing this unending fiasco has shown is that it was majorly a mistake to establish my medical care at the Mayo Clinic. Not because anything is wrong with the Mayo. But because the Mayo is almost an hour’s drive on the other side of the Valley!!!

They have a hospital that’s a little closer — about half that distance — but it also is a LONG way from my house. I have been enjoined from driving, which means it’s damn near impossible for me to get to a doctor — not without enormous inconvenience and hassle for my son!

{sigh} I guess what this shows is one basic principle: NEVER ESTABLISH YOUR MEDICAL CARE THROUGH A GIANT BUREAUCRACY. 

Seriously: I deeply regret having set health-care things up through the Mayo. Just getting an appointment is a hassle. When you try, you get sent to the far side of Scottsdale…quite a trick to get there, when their quack has nullified your driver’s license.

So it goes…from one fiasco to the next fiasco.

It’ll be interesting to see what happens next, eh?

Shades of Araby…

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It’s not really that the exterior temperature is so hot. It’s the humidity. Under high overcast come 11:44 a.m., it’s 105 degrees in the shade of the back porch.

Yes: that IS one hundred and five degrees. 

{gasp!} Wunderground claims it’s 106 degrees (BFD!) with a 15% chance of rain in the next six hours. Peering out the back door, we see a high, thin layer of overcast, and a back-porch thermometer reading of 105 degrees. Indoors, the AC cools it down to 81 degrees. Which is some 20 degrees better…I guess…but not a helluva lot more comfortable, because it does little to suck the humidity out of the indoor air.

This feels like it did we lived in Arabia: where the weather was chronically hot and soggy. I was a little kid at the time, and so didn’t know any better. But my parents…well, they weren’t averse to complaining about it!  😀

My mother grew up in upstate New York — was sent to California when her paternal grandmother (who was raising her) died of diabetes. No: there was no such thing as insulin in those days…if there had been, you can be sure her folks couldn’t afford it.

My mother never got the Family Disease. I’m told I have “pre-diabetes,” whatever that is. And another family member supposedly has a full-on case of it. Is it not odd that such a dangerous, potentially fatal disease would be heritable? Surely, that would seem to keep the population boom down..

A dear friend also has this fine ailment. She seems to be coping with it well…but that being her business, one never knows.

WhatEVER. Just now I’m wishing I was back in the San Francisco Bay Area, whence my mother’s family emanated. And where, IMHO, I believe I belong. A hundred and five in the shade does not feel livable to me! 😀

 

 

Muse Me No Muzak!

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Daaayum, but I hate Muzak. Do you know anyone who actually likes to sit on the phone interminably listening to bing-bing-BONG-bing/bong bong BING bing pumped into their ear?

Tried to call Young Dr. Kildare’s new office, way to hell and gone out in Sun City, by way of canceling today’s appointment. Ring ’em up and get bing-bing-BONG-bing/bong bong BING bing blasting into the phone. Finally, after about five minutes of this annoyance, some poor office worker came on the line, just as I was about to slam down the phone.

Y’know, one of the problems with this endlessly annoying “system” is that by the time an employee answers the phone, your customer is in SUCH A RAGE that it’s almost impossible to muster a shard of politeness.

Another problem: since Dr. Kildare makes his (dis)respect for his patients/customers so obvious, you can be SURE this one will never show up in his environs again.

Y’know, I think the Mayo is just great. Love my doc out there, though sometimes question her opinions. But the problem is…their offices are WAAAAYYYYY over on the far side of north Scottsdale, halfway to freakin’ Payson. A drive over there takes upwards of 40 minutes — one way. So you’re on the road for 80 minutes to spend maybe 10 minutes with MayoDoc.

Annoying.

At the time I knew him here, YDK’s office was right up the street from my house. Literally: I could walk there, if I felt so ambitious. That and the fact that he’s reasonably smart and competent led me to schedule visits with him for any medical issue that looked fairly tame. Saved the Mayo safari for ailments that looked downright terrifying.

And when you get old, you DO get enough of those to help pay a doctor’s overhead…

At any rate…probably in search of an older, more ailing clientele, YDK closed his office in Moon Valley, a suburb just up the road from the Funny Farm, and decamped to Sun City.

A long drive from here. A long, crowded, unpleasant drive.

But…I like him so much that I decided I would follow him…westward, ever westward.

***
Uh huh. Tried that. Ain’t tryin’ it again. 
***

My parents lived in Sun City. My mother died there, under the care of the most UNcaring doctors I ever met. So, I determined that I would never, ever let a Sun City doctor have at me.

Needless to say, YDK’s move out there led to some agonizing second thoughts. 

A huge, brand-new, fancy hospital has sprung up in Sun City. One guesses that YDK and his partners decided to go out there so they could get in on the ground floor of that thing…and have access to some swell new office digs. All very nice.

But if I’m going to drive half my lifetime to see a doctor, I guess — oh, make that I know I’d rather go east than west. ANY day I’d rather go to a Mayo Clinic doctor than to Albert Schweitzer in Sun City! Hafta say: the experiences we had out there — in Sun City — while my mother was dying were just horrific. I swore I’d never go near another Sun City doctor or hospital…and…well… I reckon now is the time to honor that oath.

‘Bye, YDK…you will be missed!

<3