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I am an expert at waiting:

  • Always the one who is dressed and ready to go first,
  • Always early to arrive for appointments,
  • Always flexible about time constraints,
  • I usually wait double time since I arrive early and others arrive late

Imagine all the waiting required over a lifetime – a half hour here, an hour there, etc.

Turns out even I (the expert at waiting) can be surprised stunned.

The general concensus among orthopedic experts is that I need a hip replacement. Yes, another complaint has emerged about one of two lower extremeties.

Yesterday I went to a highly recommended surgeon who, after double XRays, agreed that the hip on the opposite side of BigFoot needs replacing.

“You could get in for surgery soon with one of my partners. But I am booked through the summer of 2021,” he said.

What?

Did I hear that right?

A year?

2021?

I would have to wait a year?

In bewildered shock I answered, “It seems you are the best surgeon for this and of course I want the best. Maybe I could tough things out.”

The doc did not seem surprised as he outlined the plan. “My nurse will call you with a date,” said he. And then they gave me a folder on exercises to do post surgery as well as what to expect in the hospital.

Are they serious?

In a year there may be technological advances that would call for exercise instead of surgery!

In a year I might be DOA from Covid-19. Notice how I can talk in initials now?

In a year I may be too old for surgery.

In a year ANYTHING could happen.

I still cannot imagine WAITING A YEAR for a date with a surgeon can you?

On the other hand, I am an expert at waiting.

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I am so envious of my friends here and my friends out there in the blog-us-fear who manage to organize closets and drawers and even garages during this evil Pandemic.

How clever you are to use your time away from society so wisely.

I must say I think about organizing things.

I have thought about the closet now for at least four months.  In fact, I stand in it every day and assess the situation.  There are the shoes in haphazard piles and the winter clothes still not packed away.

It’s almost winter again anyway right?  I have forgotten since I do not frequent the stores anymore who used to let me know about the changing seasons.

Oh yes, there was a catalog reminding about Halloween.

Is it Halloween yet?

I think about all our 40 Photo albums too.

There is a whole big cabinet dedicated to the old non-digital touchy-feely photographs collected over my own lifetime and the lifetimes of my parents and Bill’s siblings who have all since passed.  There are many shots of roads or trees or other unidentified scenery.  And lots of unrecognizable people and many with no dates. 

My inherent need to organize draws me to that cabinet over and over again but I never open the doors.  The job is simply too overwhelming to contemplate.

I also think about the garage alot.  I have to go through the garage to take Elsa-the-dog for a walk and we pause en route so I can think about how to organize things.

There are all those leaves that blew in last Autumn and maybe I should get the leaf blower out and take care of that first.

But then there are all those loose things and tools we never use anymore, and rusty stuff.  Maybe we should look into renting a big rubbish bin.  Never mind, “Come on Elsa.  Let’s go this way.”  And off we go out of the garage.

Uh oh!  I find myself out in the green green world.  But the green is not always well manicured lawns.  The green is really enormous weeds that have taken over every flower bed and the gravel driveway.  If I think too much about the work to be done in my green green world, I tend to hurry home with Elsa after she has done her bit to fertilize the earth.

There is so much to do.

There is so much to think about doing.

To do or not to do is the question.

But I prefer to think about it.

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I am one of those people with invisible veins.  I hate getting blood tests!  They leave me slightly nauseous, sometimes black and blue.

This leads me to my most recent blood letting encounter during the time of Covid-19.

First off, the sweet girl who first made my doctor’s appointment, said she would fax the blood test order to the lab.  In about a week I was mentally and emotionally sort of ready but had a funny feeling that nothing had been faxed, so I called to check.

Sure enough.  It had not been done.  But the next sweet girl who spotted the mistake said she would fax the order over immediately.  I took her at her word.

O.K.  I was again sort of ready.  It was early Friday morning and I had fasted for 12 hours, drove to the lab and then stood outside in the fresh air with mask on.  A sweet girl asked a series of questions regarding any possible virus exposure, then put a little squirt of hand sanitizer in my hand and said, “Sign in at the desk” and then sit in any chair with orange tape (the chairs were 6 feet apart to honor social distancing).  There were only one or two chairs left because the place was packed.

I was greatly impressed by all the protective measures, that is until following orders, I went to the desk to sign in.  There was a pencil on a string that loomed larger and larger in my imagination.

Who exactly had touched that pencil?

Where had their hands been until they reached the sign-in point?

Yes, I was given hand sanitizer but was it enough to make me sterile?

If I touched that pencil would I die?

Was it worth it?

I mean, to die following orders?

You can tell, I am a follower of orders AND a worrier.

But I did sign in using that contaminated, pestilence covered pencil!

And I made a note of the date to count off the days til I would come down with the virus!

But the story continues.

I waited and waited and waited.  I waited an hour.  And while I waited a young woman came to the door and was answering all the probing questions.  “Have you been around anyone who tested positive for the coronavirus?”  Her answer was, “Yes.”   (!!!!!!)

At that point, I left.  That was Friday.

On Monday I returned and the lab was again packed so I turned around and went to the doctor’s office to tell them I could not get a blood test in preparation for the appointment.  They changed the appointment to give me more time.

On the third try, I fasted from 10PM to 10AM and went to the lab again. This time I was the only person there!

The problem was they did not have an order from my doctor!  So, the second sweet girl forgot to fax the order over too.  This was beginning to literally be a comedy of errors!

Fortunately my blood-letter lady called the doctor’s office and they faxed it over while we sat and chatted.  Thankfully, I was the only patient in the place. And my blood-letter was an expert and got what she needed on the first try.

Now let’s hope the blood test shows everything normal and that I will not have to get another test for 6 months or a year.  And mostly, let’s hope I am mistaken about the Pandemic Laden Pencil used for sign-in at the lab!

 

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The whole world has been shut down to deal with an unknown virus that has seemingly taken over entire lives.

And even though it is happening slowly, the world is trying to regress back to the good times when people could hug and talk and sing and shout from less than six feet away

We yearn for those Good Old Days too, but being among the Vulnerables, our world still stays shut.

And some days are tougher than others.  Today was such a day.

  • Bill came in from a trip to Lowes and announced he is convinced the virus will never go away because so many people refuse to wear masks. His conviction and disillusion made me feel sad.
  • Then a big rain storm came to add to the gloom.
  • And of course Elsa was convinced the sky was falling again.
  • I spent some of the gloomy day catching up on news, and of course there was nothing very uplifting to report.

As always, in midday Bill went for our mail.  But this time he came home with a package from Janet, our dear old friend in Arizona.

The box contained a greeting card that reminded us to celebrate Christmas in July!

And under the card was one of Janet’s homemade famous English fruitcakes complete with a marzipan icing and a red ribbon to celebrate the holiday.  20200711_094229

In addition there were two boxes of Terry’s Chocolate Oranges, an English favorite and mine too.  You may have guessed that Janet is originally from England.

But talk about smiling!

Imagine our delight at receiving such a happy thoughtful gift. And the timing was perfect!

Some people are simply wonderful!

Merry Christmas Janet to you, Pam, Deb and Scott!

And THANKYOU for making a gloomy day bright.

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Homeward Bound

Some eons ago, when I was a little girl my parents took us kids out for Sunday drives.  Those were always exciting times with donuts as the grand finale.

My parents are long gone, but some of those sweet memories resurface, especially since there has been ample time to reflect on past pleasures.

Nowadays Bill takes Elsa-the-dog and me for “rides in the car.”  I think he thinks we need a change of scene and he is so right.  These outings expand our world beyond the walls that bind us since Bill and I are among the most vulnerables to the Corona Virus.

Elsa gets beyond excited when we ask, “Wanna go for a ride in the car?”  She dashes back and forth barking and whining and eagerly jumps in.  But the sad thing is, Elsa does not know how to enjoy life as a dog.   She immediately hunkers down as if to hide from imminent danger, rarely looks out the window, and shakes and shivers with her head in my lap no matter where we may wander.

Because she is so frightened I ride in the back seat with her, and off we go, with Bill as the Chauffeur.

 Elsa does sit up but only if the car stops.  That gives her a window view of sorts with glimpses of an alien world fraught with terror.

  • Sometimes Bill stops at an ATM machine and when he gets out, Elsa goes mad with worry – crying and howling in despair that we have lost a pack member to the insane outside world
  • The parking lot of Walmart is always interesting too.  We went there to see if the GoodWill drop was still open (and it was).  Elsa began whining in anticipation of further pack loss, but we had not brought our donations and we all stuck together inside the relative safety of the car.
  • The Sheetz gas station is colorful too and very scary indeed.  Last time we were there a mask-less fellow was filling up next to us, right by my open window.  Suddenly he began yelling at a friend who was some distance away.  Being Covid-19- paranoid I feared I might contract the virus from his unmasked yelling vapors (so I held my breath)!  I wonder why the CDC has not recommended holding your breath as a preventative measure.
  • Another time we drove to Buena Vista (the nearest little town) and we saw whole families out walking with little kids skipping alongside. None of them were wearing masks either (not the parents, kids or dogs) but they were single family units out in the fresh air.  It was a heartwarming slice of Americana but maybe Elsa has the right idea about hunkering down and avoiding even looking out the window.
  • And our last ride in the car was around our own neighborhood where we saw a new neighbor’s house being built – a lovely A-frame log home atop a hill.

We are hoping Elsa will become accustomed to our outings and will some day enjoy the wind in her hair and the sights (other than a yelling man and an ATV machine) through the window.

In any case, I will remember these precious times, these spontaeous rides, these family/pack trips during a serious pandemic.  They were Bill’s idea for a change of scene that has now become a happy tradition.

How about you?

Wanna go for a ride in the car?

 

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It was 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon when Elsa-the-Dog begged to go out on the deck. She loves just looking around her “estate” from the safety of the rails and rungs.

So out we went to sit in the shade of the eaves and contemplate sudden fair weather.  Surely the wispy breeze and floods of sunshine would make us safe from the dreaded virus.

As I was about to doze off, Elsa suddenly sprang to life and trotted to a corner of the deck.  She likes to chase bumble bees and I thought that was her goal.

But then she zipped over to the opposite end and then zipped back.  She was definitely on the alert and straining to look in one direction through the rails and I too looked in that direction to see what all the fuss was about.

What I saw was a very large VERY LARGE Virginia Black Bear who was ambling along the edge of our woods.  He had obviously been at both ends below our deck and was certainly interested in my hummingbird feeder!

About the time I put this all together in my slowly emerging brain, Elsa was growling and barking, and the BIG BEAR began to run.  Thankfully, it was running away and not toward us.  Elsa kept up a loud piercing bark that I think made her seem to be a giant adversary instead of a little twerp of a dog.

And the VERY LARGE bear ran all the way out of sight and into the forest.

Thank you Elsa-the-Dog for your grand big-dog bark and for your courage in sounding the alarm.  You are my heroine!

Anyway, who said sheltering in place is not exciting?

 

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Kit the Wit

My oldest best friend’s birthday is coming up tomorrow.

She is an old lady now.

But, I suppose I am too.

Still, every year about this time she is older than I am and that lasts until November.

Kit and I were little children when we first met.  She was older than me then too.

She was 12 years old and I was 11.

She wanted to ride my brand new bike and I said, “NO.”  Then I changed my mind and we have been best friends forever ever since!  That means we went through all the joys of childhood, then all the hopes, dreams and traumas of the teen years, first jobs, dating and marriage, parenthood, and now, finally, the ups, downs and mysteries of aging.

Way back then Kit gave us nicknames.  She would be Kit the Wit from that point on and we shortened that to just “Wit.”

And I was Dort the Snort.  Not too glamorous but “Snort” stuck (I have a wonderful sense of humor you know!  In fact I have other friends who call me “Dork” – imagine?).

People do stare when Wit calls out in a store, “Hey Snort, come and look at this!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WIT!  I am more grateful than ever to have you as my oldest best friend forever.  Let’s ignore old age and the pandemic and all the other things that might get in the way and plan to spend the night (just one more night) like we did so long ago.

 

 

 

 

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neon signage

Photo by Ivan Bertolazzi on Pexels.com

I like to say I am growing old instead of already old.  It gives me a better feel for how to feel when the most vulnerable population to the Covid-19 virus is touted as 60+ or 80+ or somewhere inbetween.

In any case, there always seem to be new rules about coping with this virus.  I know you are dying to hear them…. forgive the pun.  The world is coping but there are consistently more confusing theories about how the virus is spread and regulations regulating how we should lead our lives in the midst of what I call Viral Confusion.

For instance:

When I was a kid, you did not go to a doctor unless you were sick – maybe even really sick.  That seems to be the case now too.

2020 Pandemic Rules

Do not go to a doctor unless you feel sick.  And even then, call first to see if he/she will let you in.  Will this eventually even lead to doctors making house calls again?  When our son developed a very high fever, panic set in and we called the doctor who came to our house in 20 minutes, but by that time, the fever was gone.  And I don’t think the doc even charged for the visit!

Ah for the good old days.

Do not go to a dentist unless you have a bad toothache.   Dentists are just now reopening in my neck of the woods and I think they can be called for more mundance things like cleaning.  Check to be sure where you live.

But in the good old days, Mom would give me a clove to suck on or an ice cube – anything but the dentist – to cope with pain.  She was deathly afraid of dentists but finally when I was 14 and had a bad toothache, she made an appointment.  The dentist found one cavity for every year I had lived and I spent the next 14 weeks getting cavities filled (minus Novocaine!).  In those days you raised your hand if the pain was too bad.

Did I say I was growing old or already old?  Is pre-Novocaine ancient or what?

Ah for the good old days.

The new scary deadly virus has made me re-evaluate the wonders of staying home.  But what about positive changes?  Take clearer water.  They say you can see the fish in Venice canals now. I would love to take a gondola ride again but this time in clear water.

And now that there is more testing going on, some say if you are blood type O, you have a better chance of not catching the virus or maybe even surviving it.  Maybe I can go out sans mask and celebrate shoulder to shoulder in a crowd since I am in the O category.

Or if your ring finger is shorter or longer than the rest, you may or may not be in trouble re the virus.  I keep forgetting to size my ring finger.

And how about the urge to flush the toilet without putting the lid down?  Do you know how volatile the spray can be as you flush?!

Screaming spreads more virus than talking.  Talking may be the New Nasty Culprit that spreads the damned thing.

Disinfecting every surface on earth is no longer advised but don’t stop washing your hands.  You may have touched something evil.

All this speculation makes me wonder what people did in the real good old days of The Plague and Cholera.  The more I hear or read, the more I ponder this pandemic and all its pros and cons.

Stay Safe is the new Farewell, especially in our emerging “New Normal.”

Stay Safe my friends.

Stay Safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rockbridge Aquatics Center

No, I am not the type of person who wants to run into an icey sea for any reason.

However, I continue to miss swimming in a warmer pool of water.  BigFoot has also been crying out for a bit more exercise.

About BigFoot:

For any newcomers to my blog, please know that BigFoot is the nickname for a problematical left foot that swells off and on.  There were nine different diagnoses. The latest concensus is a combination of arthritis and a damaged nerve.

Submersion in water seems to help the swelling.  But mostly there is the proud reaction I get from simply sinking into the water and hanging on a noodle.  If I kick my feet I feel like I’m exercising!

I suppose you can tell I have begun to visit our community indoor pool – our local Aquatics Center.  What a joy!

I have been there one time and ready for the second visit this week!

It is a dome covered pool.  It is also the largest pool I have ever seen except on t.v. for the summer Olympics.  There are eight very long lanes and at the time I went, I had two of them all to myself.

I think those open two lanes are reserved for un-serious lap swimmers, who simply dog paddle on a noodle from end to end.

Wait a minute!  Isn’t EXERCISE really a subjective term?

In my case it means BigFoot is engaged in gentle kicking.

On Day One I even abandoned the noodle for short periods of real swinning.  Now that is EXERCISE –  right?

Like I said, “subjective.”

Now please stay tuned for more excitement after my Day Two visit this week.

 

 

 

 

 

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macro photography of black sunglasses on sand

Photo by Ylanite Koppens on Pexels.com

Although we have had a few tooth-chattering days here in Camelot, it still somehow feels like summer.  I have almost forgotten that Virginia has a temperate climate but still boasts the four seasons.

But here it comes January and I never finished retrieving winter clothes and never packed away bathing suit or shorts.  First of all, it stayed warm enough for cooler garb than sweaters.

And for a true weather guage there is always my curly-er and frizzy-er hair which usually only happens during the muggy days of summer.  I suppose winter frizz  is due to a mountain version of seaside dampness.  Who knew?

And those lazy hazy days are here again and I am sweating (not whistling) while I work.

This sleeping beauty is also doing a bit more tossing and turning on over heated body-warmed sheets.

This morning there was a summer-like drizzly rain with no coat necessary – just short sleeves for dog walking.

The stink bugs are happy and back in plague mode too, accompanied by a competitive lady bug infestation.

I am confused.  Should I switch the heatpump to “cool”?  Should we re-open the outdoor pool?

Feeling a chill where you are?  Virginia may be just the place to go for the excitement of an off-season-summer.

 

 

 

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