My Turn

I did say in a recent post that life can literally turn on a dime, a healthy today is not promised for tomorrow.

And so it was I went from going Beastmode on Wednesday to a visit to the Emergency Room this afternoon.

Sitting at the computer around 4:00 yesterday, the room suddenly began to rock and I got so lightheaded that I had to grab onto the edge of the table to steady myself.

EARTHQUAKE!, thought I.

Logging into the Earthquake Tracker, I found no such event.

Interesting, thought I.

When waves of the lightheadedness, sort of a fade in/fade out sensation continued on/off remainder of the afternoon, I began to think I might be having mini strokes.

Waking up this morning, feeling my usual self, I decided not to push it — skip Zumba, stick with the regular Pain Cave workout.

Just as I opened the door to head to the Cave, I came face-to-face with Next Door Neighbor’s son as he opened their door to head out.

"Good morning" said I and asked "Is L____ back from the hospital?".

"Yes".

"How is she?".

"She’s okay".

Like mother, like son. She’s a private person and he’s must be the same as he was not giving away any more than he had to.

As I was driving out of the complex, I saw him standing just outside the gate having a smoke.

Ha! NDN is back, so there will be no more Hanky Panky, if that’s what it was, or smoking inside her unit.

Shortly after returning to the complex, that fade in/fade out sensation began again.

Along about 12:30, granddaughter called and when I tried to accept the call, the accept call button on the phone would not work.

Before I could call her back, she called again.

Still, the button would not work, but I got through before she could try a third time.

She sounded relieved and said she’d been worried when I hadn’t answered because "I had a dream my mom called last night to tell me you died".

Well, shit! but here’s the thing ………… I don’t mind going, I just don’t want to go slow with a stroke. Prefer to just go all at once.

So, taking granddaughter's dream as a sign, I called the medical center appointment line, where I had to run the gauntlet of that which is known as the appointment nurse.

When I described my symptoms, instead of scheduling the next available appointment — sometime in June, she directed me to head to the ER.

Six hours later, I was back home fading in/fading out, no wiser as to what the problem is and not an ounce of faith the doctor knows either.

Upon arrival at the medical center, I was checked in rightaway, directed to the waiting room.

It was a short wait until I heard my name called, stood up, began walking towards the nurse, who looked at me, called my name again with a question mark.

I signaled yes as her eyes and voice questioned if I was the correct Shirley.

While escorting me to the room, she said, "I was expecting an 80-year-old. I questioned it because you look 60".

Cool. I’ll take it.

As she was setting up a chart, she went on to say, "I’m 54. I hope I look as good as you when I’m 80. Do you still drive?"

ROFLMAO!

"Yes, so rest assured you will be able to drive when you’re 80".

The compliments did not help my symptoms as I continued to fade in/fade out.

I declared "IMPOSSIBLE!" when my BP registered 177 over I don’t remember.

The nurse took it three more times ………… Once while I was lying down, once sitting up, once standing. The best she could get was 169 over I don’t remember.

On the surface, the ER doctor seemed thorough and professional as he asked the appropriate questions, ran me through several tasks, said my dexterity and brain function were normal ………… not a series of mini strokes.

That was a relief as fading in/fading out arrived in waves while I was in the ER.

Doc ordered the usual lab work and said I should talk to my doctor about effectiveness of the BP medication.

Sure, I’ll do that just as soon as I can ……… which will be Tuesday, June 11.

Saying my heartbeat was "faint" he also ordered an EKG.

After the EKG, I was directed to go to the Lab for work, return to the ER after.

Once back in the ER, I was told there would be a 45 minute to an hour wait for the test results to come in, whereupon I’d be ushered back into the doc’s office.

Up until then, because of my symptoms when I'd arrived at the ER around 2:00, I'd immediately been put on the fast track ……… it took not much time to get checked in, see the nurse, the doctor, run through the questions/tasks, the EKG and lab work. So let’s say it was now around 3:30/4:00.

From there, I waited and waited and waited and waited and waited — I guess for the doc to tell me his findings.

I used the time to read a few more chapters of The Old Gays Guide to the Good Life until, along around 5:00, I began to question why bother.

They've made money off me running their little tests and procedures, not gonna find a damn thing, figure out or, like always, solve the actual problem. It's not a stroke, which was my main concern, so why stick around? I’ll give them until 6:00.

At 6:00 on the dot, I got up, walked out, headed home.

Phone rings at 6:12. It was my personal physician’s office.

I pull over but couldn’t answer because …… the button.

My personal physician's office called two more times and, on that third time, the button worked.

I apologized for not answering the previous calls, explained my phone isn’t working properly.

"That’s okay" says the assistant. "Are you still in the ER?"

Who told? How’d did that office know?

"No. I got tired of waiting and since they won’t figure out what’s wrong anyway, I left".

"Oh! Okay. I’ll put that in the notes".

Then the ER doctor called.

I couldn’t answer.

He called again, left a voice message "I have a few things to discuss with you".

He should have left a direct number for me to call him back, because when I tried, I ended up at the appointment line.

Whatever he had to discuss, I’m sure it’s not what I want to hear which is an answer as to why I continue to fade in/fade out ……… even as I’m typing this.

Hanky Panky?

Preparing to do my nails today. I removed my polish last night, saw that my nails needed smoothing and conditioning by a professional.

After having to give up my long-time pedicurist, because the male owners of the salon kept screwing up my appointments, last time I had professional work done was September of last year when one of Trainer’s female fighters recommended the "older, short, fat one" at a nearby salon and I ended up with Nora at 11:00.

Nora did a great job, it was worth the half hour I had to wait for my 11:00 appointment, but Nora was incredibly expensive ……… $100, plus I tipped $20 which I later calculated should have been $15.

At Nora’s prices, no way was I going to try to get an appointment with her today ……… would not have been able to anyway, as Nora is booked up weeks in advance.

I decided to try a salon over by the University that I knew took walk-ins.

Preparing to head out, I saw what I assumed was Next Door Neighbor’s son entering her unit, followed by a female.

Hmmmmm, what hanky panky is this?, thought I.

My mind went to hanky panky because out of the vault popped the memory of when my ex-husband’s married uncle would sometimes use our apartment during the day, when we were at work, with ex’s permission, for a hookup with his girlfriend.

Returning from the nail salon with a satisfactory shaping and conditioning, but less than satisfactory $60 paint job, plus $10 tip for manicurist, $10 tip for pedicurist, I could smell cigarette smoke coming from NDN’s unit as I walked up the stairs, saw the kitchen blinds were open and what appeared to be cooking going on.

It appears someone is now living in NDN’s unit for the time being.

NDN is not gonna like her unit smelling like cigarettes when she returns.

As for that less than perfect paint job …. when I sat down in the chair the Deluxe 1 was quoted as $38. I must have sat in the chair way longer than I thought because, once the work was done, the price of goods (nail polish) and services (manicurist/pedicurist) increased to $60.

It is what it is, so I didn’t make a big deal of the price increase — that’s not my style. I tipped, headed back to the complex and, on the way, noticed the paint already coming off the tip of the thumb nail and child-like paint job around the bed of the nail.

The manicurist's child-like paint job is repeated in the nail bed of every single nail.

Once upstairs, taking a good look at work done by the pedicurists, it's amateur ville there as well with paint on my skin.

I really don't want to have to pay Nora at 11:00's prices but, next time I need professional work done, I may have to.

Beastmode

Other than seeing Next Door Neighbor’s son going in/out of her unit yesterday and early this morning, nothing new to report.

With son's own family to care for, his two jobs and a wife that doesn’t like his mother, this taking care of his mom’s wants and needs has to be a heavy burden.

As of yet, no one has asked about NDN’s whereabouts. I don’t think anybody knows she’s not here, in her unit.

The only person likely to know she’s not and wonder about it is the Nice Old Guy upstairs across the quad. Let’s call him Mr. W.

The windows of Mr. W's unit are directly in line with NDN’s windows and, from the way he draws his blinds to allow for viewing, I’m sure he peeps her and probably watches me as well, but his vantage point only allows seeing me when I’m going up/down the stairs, entering/exiting the unit.

NDN and I are his television program, and he peeps us from two channels.

His favorite channel is the bedroom, where he can tune in early AM while still in bed.

Bedroom

During the day, he tunes in from his main room.

Main room

He’s old, nice, the grandfatherly type who struggles getting around with a cane, so I don’t think either of us minds the peeping and though his peeping isn't doing NDN any good right now, the peeping sometimes makes me feel comforted to know someone is watching and can call for help if he sees one of us fall on the stairs or get accosted at our doors.

NDN did intimate once that Mr. W had been a little flirty in an old fashion way ……… when they passed on the walkway and she asks how he’s doing, he’d said "Better now" with a sly grin.

I think she was flattered, but then she learned he used to be Church Lady’s special friend here on the complex, which made him look somewhat less harmless, just another player.

So, anyway, I’m sure Mr. W is wondering where NDN is and who is that man going in/out her unit. If we pass on the walkway, he will ask.

Because NDN is so private, I don’t know if she wants me telling folks she’s in the hospital. I’m not offering that information, but will be in a bind as to what to say if asked.

Yesterday was a false alarm and a waste of my time.

The notice posted to our doors a week or so ago, the same notice I pulled from Next Door Neighbor’s door on Monday, directed us to be prepared as early as 8 a.m. for "inspectors" to enter our units, test fire sprinklers.

I set the alarm for 6:00 to give me time to perform my morning rituals, be dressed and ready.

It was a False Alarm. No one showed up. I could have awakened at my regular time.

Red Light called a few days ago to tell me there was to be a "Health Fair and Bingo" in the Community Room, then tried to sell me on attending by saying the group coming in did bingo differently.

The event wasn't on the activity calendar, so how she, who is moving for certain on May 2nd, came to be privy to this information I do not know, but it appears she’s still involved in activities up to the very last.

Because I’d been noncommittal, Red Light sent me a text around 10:30, reminding me.

Inasmuch as the inspectors were nowhere in sight, I went downstairs to check out this health fair.

It was busy and noisy, with residents getting blood pressure and blood sugar checked. Raffle tickets were given out to those signing up to be cuffed and pricked.

I passed and pretty much just did a less than 5-minute walk thru — in one door and out the other when I saw nothing that interested me.

Returning to my unit, I did see Head Maintenance Guy escorting the inspector ……… not "inspectors" but one lone guy into the building across the grassy knoll.

Expecting the inspector would be escorted to my building soon, I waited and waited and waited and, but for the fact it was a one-day inspection, I’d be waiting still.

Like I said ……… false alarm, waste of my time.

Going beastmode this morning made up for yesterday’s inactivity.

The little Spanish lady that doesn’t speak much English ……… the lady with the disabled husband that I and others, who don’t speak Spanish worked at helping learn how to play bingo, had invited myself and the Talker to her Zumba fitness class.

Talker declined but I, even though Zumba is on the same days of the week as my workouts, decided to push myself and go beastmode — Zumba at 9:00, Pain Cave at 11:00.

It was an entire hour of high energy high impact movement, complete with disco strobe lights.

I thought I was going to die.

I was careful to not injure myself by jumping around, kept my movements within a manageable safe range but, even so, I sweated like a whore in church, felt dizzy at times and had to lean on a wall for support.

So, though it was tough getting up and out early for the class, and even though my favorite part was when the moderator would announce "One, two, three, stop" in between movements, and even though most of the music and spoken words were in a language I do not understand, and even though the sessions are on the same days as my Pain Cave workouts (M W F), I plan to go back, try to build up my stamina ……… and possibly my language skills.

20 Days Later

Life can literally turn on a dime.

I think it was Friday when I noticed the sign management attached to our doors the previous week — alerting us to Annual Fire Sprinkler Testing this morning, was still on Next Door Neighbor’s Door.

Hideously Tacky Doormat is deceiving
as to the artistry inside

Strange, thought I.

Though NDN is friendly, she's very private and pretty much doesn't hang too much with residents here and our activities. When she does go out and engage, it's usually elsewhere, with people and activities of a more bougie nature, away from us just plain folk types.

Her being such a private to herself person, it’s not unusual to not see or hear a peep out of her for extended periods of time.

So it was I didn’t think anything about having not seen her for days and weeks until Friday, when I realized the notice was still on her door.

That got me to thinking something might be wrong inside, because the notices always somehow disappear after a day or two …………… are taken inside by her I assume.

Thinking something might be wrong inside, but not yet alarmed, when I got up on Saturday, headed out to log in walking miles, I told myself to check the carport for Lucille ………… the name she’s given her car, because maybe NDN was on vacation.

Lucille was still parked in her usual spot.

That’s when I began thinking the worst ……… that she might be inside ……… deceased.

That has happened here.

Trying to talk myself out of that thought, I told myself if that were the case, us neighbors would have smelled something by now.

Sorry to be blunt, but I'm a realist.

Now alarmed, I started to knock on her door, but saw that her blinds were shut tight, like she’d gone somewhere after all, and I decided to give it another day or so — until yesterday morning for the notice to disappear.

It didn’t.

So while getting suited up for yesterday’s workout, now on full alert, I had it in mind to stop by the office, ask for a welfare check on NDN. But then it occurred to me that I might still have her telephone number in my contacts.

I did.

She answered on the first ring.

"Are you okay in there?" asked I.

"No, I’ve been in the hospital since the 2nd".

When she was unable to keep any food down, her son took her to the hospital where, whatever was wrong was made worse.

Not happy with the medical care, her son removed her, took her to another hospital where what had been made worse was made even worser.

Judging from my own medical center experiences, I believe it, which is why I’ve turned away from materia medica as much as possible and rely more on Holistic Care.

At any rate, NDN says she's in bad shape, hooked up to IVS, doesn’t know when she’s going to get better, and then oddly began talking about her plants and how they are inside her unit dying.

I don't have a key to her unit, otherwise I'd water her plants; and she tells me her son lives too far away and has two jobs, so he can't babysit the plants.

She then began asking me if the corner market delivers groceries, as she doesn’t see herself returning to the independence she previously enjoyed.

I assured her the market does, but then I opened my big mouth and said that I can pick up groceries for her when I do my own shopping.

I think she set me up ………… brought it up knowing I'd volunteer.

But whatever ……… it’s not a big deal, and I can opt out if it ever does become a big deal.

NDN was evasive when I inquired, more than once, as to what exactly is wrong with her.

If she wants me to pick up and deliver groceries, bring up mail, that's carrying Hippa and being private a little too far, because I don't want to risk catching whatever she's privately keeping to herself.

Looking like a big deal already, unless she can give me some assurance as to risk, I may have to withdraw my offer, tell her to let the delivery people handle it after all.

Just think though ………… how quickly life can turn on a dime, a healthy today is not promised for tomorrow; and I’ve seen it more than once around here where one day a resident is living an independent lifestyle, the next day the resident has a caregiver.

NDN has been in the hospital for 20 days and, but for that notice on her door, I'd still be unaware something might be wrong and sound the alarm to have her checked on.

Because I too pretty much keep to myself, don't engage with family all that often, I used to wonder how long it would be before anyone realized something has happened and send in the calvary. Now that I train religiously, arrive on time and have done so every M W F for the last five years, Trainer is actually closer to me and more concerned about me than family. If I were 5 minutes late, he'd be on high alert. Otherwise, I’d be completely decomposed and smelling up the complex before anyone noticed.

Earth Day

Knock Knock Knock

As if I don’t have enough on my plate, I walked into the bedroom yesterday afternoon to switch outfits after having run errands and …………… so much on my plate that I’ve been incorrectly referring to Twin 2 as the daughter who is estranged from her adult children.

Twin 2 has no children — she devoted her energies to helping me step in for her twin’s kids when their mom (Twin 1) was in her prodigal experience ……………… not financially and/or emotional there for the kids.

It's Twin 1 whose heart is breaking at not being able to turn back time, make amends for bad parenting choices.

She’s given the moniker Twin 1 because she came out of the womb first, five minutes ahead of her sister, Twin 2.

I’ve made what corrections I could find to recent posts misidentifying which twin is which, but no surprise I misidentified the twins as I’ve been walking around like a zombie last few days with the family’s dramarama clogging my brain (thanks for that word Karen), but as I was saying ……………… I walked into the bedroom yesterday afternoon to switch outfits after having run errands when, through the bedroom window I spied the Talker’s disabled brother sitting on the bench outside, along with two fit looking guys.

Oh! Oh!, thought I. That looks like my Little Stalker’s uncles and if they’re here on the premises, then she is as well.

Sure enough, there was a knock knock knock on the door shortly after.

Little Stalker said she’d not been around because of school, but that she’ll be visiting me again soon with another bear to babysit.

No way José, I said to myself. Another bear would be her manipulating me into creating another book — like the one I made back in 2023 when she dumped a bear on me.

I told her I can’t handle babysitting duties right now that, if she left another bear, I’d have to charge her for babysitting, and I hurried her away with a bag of See’s chocolate eggs.

My last visit to See’s, just before Easter, the clerk had tossed a handful of those eggs in my bag. Knowing eventually Little Stalker would resurface, I’d saved them in the freezer for her.

Little Stalker’s grandma has an upstairs unit; consequently, is one of the few residents who can climb stairs, get to my unit, so she was standing there with Little Stalker when I begged off babysitting another bear.

Hopefully, grandma understood the message and will hold Little Stalker back from burdening me with another.

Earlier that morning, I ran out of a needlepoint floss color and had to make a run to the craft store.

Checking out, the cashier asked, "Would you be interested in signing up for a credit card?"

"No thanks".

"You can save x number of dollars on today’s purchase".

"No thanks".

Then she tried to interest me in a Rewards program and some other something.

"No thanks, No thanks, No thanks".

I know she was only doing what her supervisor asked her to do ………… push these things onto customers, but how many times can one say "No thanks" before going off?

Fortunately, I maintained, was polite and firm with my no's, even though she was making a pest of herself and made me forget to use my coupons.

Since I was in the area of the Tire Place, I popped in to get the tire pressure checked, where the kid on the air station also tried to play me the fool.

I’m sure he’d too had been told to do so by his supervisors …………… If a woman comes in, take advantage of her, turn the free air service into her paying for other services, because he told me I needed to replace the back wiper blade ($20) and have the lug nuts replaced ($80).

Bullcrap, thought I.

I’d just last week taken the car into the dealership for its annual multi-point inspection, and the invoice made no mention of needing a back wiper blade and lug nuts replaced.

So, either the kid at the tire place is fibbing or the dealership is fibbing, or both are lying.

I purchased the Jeep in 2018, have logged in only 15,500 miles. So with so little driving, and definitely not overusing the wiper blades because I don’t drive in the rain, I seriously doubt the blades or lug nuts need changing out; consequently, the tire place is jerking my chain.

On the other hand, because the Jeep came with the last Lifetime Warranty Jeep offered on parts and labor, it is within the realms of possibility the dealership doesn’t want to bother with services for which they will not be able to charge me, so made no mention of either.

Can’t trust anybody anywhere these days, so I googled and learned "Depending on the type of vehicle it is and the age, the lug nuts may need to be replaced anywhere between five and 15 years; As a good rule of thumb, a vehicle's wiper blades will last six to 9 months".

I might pop into the dealership, get the blades changed, but I’m not worried about the lug nuts and wish folks would realize I may be of the elder generation, but that doesn’t mean I’m gullible, and they can run any old game on me.