Not Sure Whose Day Was Worse (Part 2)

When we last convened, it was Thursday afternoon around 4:15, and Farmer H was telling me that he was planning to drive to town for a new prescription, after having taken his "clean-out" medicine that morning.

"What? You're not coming to town! You might poop yourself! You've taken that medicine."

"Well, I have to get it. It's an antibiotic. They called me two hours ago and said it was ready. I don't even know which doctor prescribed it."

"I guess they'd let me pick it up for you? That my name is on your contacts? It's not a narcotic."

"Yeah, they'd probably let you pick it up. But you don't have to. I'm fine. I can drive to town."

"I'm sitting here RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR PHARMACY! I can do it."

"You could go to the drive-thru."

"Okay. I'll get it."

A car had just left the drive-thru, so I pulled right in. I couldn't reach the buzzer on the side of the building. But three women were milling around. I know one of them saw me. She looked right at me. But continued her milling. I continued my sitting. Staring through the window, trying to mind-control her to come give me service. It worked!

"What do you need?"

"To see if I can pick up my husband's antibiotic. He said it got called in."

"What's your husband's name?"

"Farmer H Hillbilly."

"Date of birth?"

"Month Day, Year."

"And his address?"

"1313 Old Gravel Road, Hillmomba."

"Okay. It looks like it isn't ready yet."

"Well, he said he got a call two hours ago that it was ready."

"It will have to be signed off on. And then I'll have to fill it."

"Do you want me to come in? So I'm not blocking your drive-thru?"

"If you want to. Where is Mr. Farmer, anyway?"

"He's home! He took the clean-out medicine! He's not going anywhere! So how long will it be? Maybe 10-15 minutes?"

"Sure."

She didn't sound all that certain. I drove around front and parked. To sit and wait, rather than go in and stand around. I called Farmer H.

"It's not even ready!"

"They told me it was!"

"Well, some old skinny blond lady told me it's not."

"I don't even know which one that is. If the guy is working, it will take a while. Everything's always late when he's working."

"She DID say 'HE'll have to sign off on it,' so..."

"Yeah. That means it's the guy pharmacist. I'm sorry."

"I'm just sitting here waiting. Good thing I used the Casey's bathroom when I got gas an hour and a half ago."

While I waited, five people pulled up and went in. Only one came back out. 15 minutes passed, and I went inside. There was an old man sitting in the Immunizations area, either before or after a shot. Two men were being waited on at the counter. A woman was in line, but got called to a third register by a man worker. One old guy wrapped up his transaction, and I got to the counter.

The 30-something dark-haired gal was really nice. I asked if they had a prescription ready for Farmer H.

"Of course we do!"

"Well, he DOES keep you guys in business!"

"Here it is. Just enter his phone number on the keypad. People find that easier than signing with their finger."

There was no charge. I was on my way out. The other old man was walking behind me. I stepped aside and told him to go ahead. I'm not winning any races these days.

Farmer H read the info on the bag. It was amoxicillin from the strange man urology NP he saw on Monday.

I know Farmer H is the one who's dealing with this treatment, but I think I had a worse day than he did on Thursday.

Not Sure Whose Day Was Worse (Part 1)

Thursday is my regular errand day. I drive over to Sis-Town and pick up The Pony. Then we go to the bank, to get T-Hoe's gas, and to Country Mart. Sometimes we go in the post office, and other times just drop Genius's weekly letter in the box on their parking lot. It is timed for me to leave the Mansion at 2:00, pick up The Pony at 2:30, and get back to the Gas Station Chicken Store in Hillmomba by 4:00. That's when Man Owner leaves, and the coast is clear to give Fave the scratchers I "tip" her with each week.

Farmer H knew he would be drinking the clean-out medicine, and not going to town all day. He had asked me if Thursday would work for me. Yes! That was the best day, because I'd be away from home (and Farmer H) longer. He got up around 6:00, and drank his medicine as directed.

Not much really happened all morning. I guess maybe it was a different prep than given for colonoscopy tests. Because this one was just a small bottle. Didn't need mixing in a jug to sip all day. Farmer H had the expected results, but nothing urgent or explosive. By 2:00 as I was getting ready to leave, he said,

"If I'd a-knowed this was all that was going to happen, I could have gone to town like normal. There's a bathroom at the flip house, and at the Senior Center."

"Well. Don't be too relaxed. It still might hit you later."

I was off to town, and Farmer H was continuing his annoying habit of not sitting still. He had "cleaned" the bathroom toilet (curious timing, at the start of the morning of this treatment) and sink. He washed four loads of laundry. Actually folded them and put them away. Bagged up a pile of his old shoes and drove them up to the dumpster on the hood of the lawnmower. He snacked all day (also curious timing) on powdered donut holes, Payday Mix, butter cookies, strawberry wafer cookies, and a Drumstick ice cream. Had his regular breakfast of a protein bar and banana, and a lunch of mini sausage biscuits and Ruffles potato chips. It's a wonder he got "cleaned out" at all!

Anyhoo... I was trapped there with fidgety Farmer H until 2:00. I'm surprised he didn't get out the vacuum and tell me to lift my feet! Aside from my nerves being shot by my constant companionship, I escaped relatively unscathed for my town trip.

The bank lady took forever to serve the single (of three) drive-thru lanes that they have open lately. The wind was whipping strongly at Casey's when we stopped for gas. Temps were upper 70s, so it wasn't a chilling wind. Just powerful. In fact, The Pony jumped out to come around and hold my door open for me to get out, and then back in. That wind would not let T-Hoe's heavy doors stay open long enough for my egress and ingress.

Grocery shopping and mail were uneventful. I dropped off The Pony, and made it to the Gas Station Chicken Store at 4:05. That's when the rest of my day hopped on the express handbasket to Not-Heaven.

Fave's car was not on the parking lot! It was Other Gal's car. So my "payoff" would be delayed until Friday. Meaning I would have to go to town later than I like, to avoid Man Owner. And even so, Fave might not be there that day, either.

I did my business with Other Gal. Once back in T-Hoe, I called Farmer H to tell him I was starting home with the groceries. It takes 10 minutes. This way, he can be watching, and come out to carry for me. 

"Okay. I have to come to town anyway once you get here. I have another prescription."

To Be Continued...

I Guess I Can't Tell Him He's Full Of It

For a couple days, I'll have to find another way to tell Farmer H that he's full of it. Because even though he figuratively is, he literally isn't.

Remember that surgery Farmer H had way back on August 13? The "roto-rootering" of his prostate, as he called it? He's still not back to normal, and it's been two months! The innernets say it could take three months. I hope so. Meaning I hope that's all it takes, is a little more time. I don't like Farmer H being miserable, unless I'm the one causing it.

Monday, he went back to the doctor to complain. Not the surgeon responsible, but a work-in appointment with a urology NP. This was a traveling guy who works all over the country. Farmer H was impressed, after being scared.

"This wasn't the regular gal who sees me up there. This was a big man! He looked like a lumberjack. He had a beard. His hands were HUGE. He might have been some kind of foreigner, but he didn't have no accent, and his name looks American. But he was wearing almost I guess what you'd call a turban on his head. 

Anyway, he told me to get that stuff you take before a colonoscopy. The clean-out medicine. He says I might not THINK I'm constipated, but that is what could be causing me not to be able to pee. And that straining breaks blood clots loose from the healing, even though it shouldn't still be doing it now, and that could block me from peeing. Also, he wants me to have another scan. He looked at the one the gal had done last time, and didn't notice anything in it."

Well. Farmer H got the scan ordered the next day. They gave him the runaround, saying he went to the wrong place, and then the other place said they didn't have an order, and then he had to also have a blood test. It was a mess-up of epic proportions, but at least this new strange man got things done at his end.

Which brings us to Farmer H's end. A story to be continued...

A New Wishy-Washy Turn Concerning T-Hoe's Gas Tank Problem

Sometimes I wish the excuses I'm given would remain consistent! Farmer H is a master of excuses, especially where T-Hoe's needs are concerned. I'm sure you recall the problem with T-Hoe's gas tank not wanting to allow gasoline in at a normal pace.

First there was the excuse that he would have to get under T-Hoe and take something apart to replace whatever is clogged. Too much trouble.

Second, it was just because of Casey's pumps. SilverRedO did the same thing. Get my gas somewhere else. Like that station next to the Devil's Playground.

Third, Farmer H had an appointment with Mick the Mechanic to fix T-Hoe. But since he couldn't guarantee he'd be done by 10:30 so Farmer H could get to Illinois with his buddy for lunch and a merchandise-buying trip, he canceled the appointment.

Fourth, Mick was too expensive. That would cost a lot for labor, him taking so long. So Farmer H was going to get an appointment with the dealer over in Sis-Town.

Fifth, that's just too much time to spend sitting at the dealer waiting for the work to be done. Time that could be spent working on the flip houses. (Yeah, right! More likely fiddling around at the SUS2.5)

Sixth, we COULD get an appointment with Mick, but then I might not have T-Hoe one day, and I'd have to miss my town trip, because he would take so long.

Seventh, just go to Casey's. Use the pump farthest from the door. It has less pressure in it than the ones closer. So the gas goes in almost like normal.

I've had enough! I told Farmer H that I'm tired of (The Pony) taking 15 minutes to pump half a tank of gas every week. This has been going on since JUNE! That he needs to get an appointment with Mick for Tuesday. 

On Monday, we have the yearly meeting with our financial advisor. I will meet Farmer H there, then on the way home, he can meet me at Mick's and drive me home in SilverRedO. The work will get done on Tuesday. And Tuesday afternoon, Farmer H can bring T-Hoe home, and on my way back to town, I'll drop him off to get SilverRedO.

There's no need for me to miss a town trip. It just means Farmer H can't be carousing all over the county on Tuesday afternoon. He'll try to finagle his way into coming home at 4:00, but I'm demanding 2:00, my regular town time. T-Hoe should be finished before noon, anyway. And I'm sure Farmer H isn't spending his time after lunch working on flip houses. Otherwise, they'd be done by now!

A Small Victory

Careful. Don't ASSUME. You know what that does to you and me. This victory has nothing to do with Farmer H finally fixing anything. FRIG II's icemaker, and T-Hoe's gas tank, remain unmolested by repairman hands. No, this victory is more personal.

I don't remember if I have mentioned my toenail. I think I did, way back when I first started my leg therapy. Maybe before, about how gnarled and hooflike the great toenail on my right foot had become with my advancing age. How it was hard to clip, and in fact I bought new, longer-handled clippers for more force. Clippers that made me think of hoof-trimmers used by farriers, or Dr. Pol of TV vet fame. 

Anyhoo... I related how this toenail was an embarrassment for me during leg therapy, even though OT had reassured me that she dealt with much worse. And has even had several POP OFF INTO HER HAND when taking off compression socks. 

These compression socks, which I must wear all day, every day, for the rest of my life... are a pain in the toenail! It never ends! Compression, compression, compression! Pulling tighter with every step. With every wiggle of my toes. There's no getting away from it. OT said that some patients cut off the toes. Of the compression socks, of course! Not off their feet! But that only meant that the socks would creep up through the day, up the foot, to the ankle. And that would allow the foot to swell. 

Anyhoo... this tale is not about the great toenail of my right foot. It's about the great toenail of my left foot. A toenail which had no problem until a couple weeks ago, when it got a little hangnail kind of thingy on the medial edge. As with a hangnail on my fingers, I slathered it with triple antibiotic ointment to keep it moist and infection free. It takes longer for a toe hangnail to heal. Especially one shut away in a hot compression sock for 22 hours a day.

That left great toenail finally quit being painful, feeling pinched when the sock would press on the end. I kept up the ointment slathering after showering. Then a few days ago, I noticed that toenail (which was not hooflike at all, but like a standard toenail) was wiggly. It could flap a little, like a talking cartoon shoe. THEN when I was bent down scrubbing it in the shower, that toenail slid sideways a little bit. To the 1:00 position. I told The Pony about it. Who retched and stated a desire not to be informed further.

I didn't want to force that toenail to move. Just left it alone, so to speak, with ointment and care not to bump it or get a sock thread caught on it.

Well. This morning (Wednesday) in the shower, as I was gently scrubbing with only liquid shampoo and my bare fingers... that great left toenail slid up and off the toe.

I WAS ECSTATIC! 

One less toenail to worry about! If only the HOOF would do the same! My toe looks like a normal toe. Except with a see-through toenail. The depression of a toenail is still there. But smooth. 

Pardon me for not sharing photos with you. I really don't like feet. Not even my own. I will spare you this sight, in case you might have the same opinion as The Pony.

Good thing I'm not a songwriter or a poet. An ode might be in order.

The Anxious Doggy Daddy

Pepper's new collar has been doing its job. Well, Pepper has been responding, it's not just the collar. Today (Tuesday), Pepper's feedback response rating is 90%. We're so proud! 

Monday was stressfull for Farmer H. You'd think he was a proud new papa, from the way he carried on about Pepper. It started with a text at 11:58.

"Have you seen pepper says he was out of satellite area"

"I'll look out. Says battery is low."

We check on the phone app randomly, to see if Pepper has breached the fence, or where he might be on the property. I saw that the battery symbol showed an hour left. That was unusual. It's usually got 36 hours with a full charge. We take the collar off every evening, and charge it for an hour. It shouldn't have been so low at noon.

I went to the kitchen door and called Pepper. Jack came wriggling around the corner, thrilled to see me. He got pats while I waited on Pepper. The last location had been out in the Shackytown Boulevard area. I don't know if Pepper came from there, or out by the carport. But he DID come running. Both dogs got a treat, and I took off Pepper's collar for charging. I sent Farmer H a text so he knew that all was well.

We are not happy with that collar battery! THIS TIME, we think it might have been the slow internet on Sunday. Maybe the collar kept trying to connect, and when it couldn't hold the signal, it switched to the GPS signal. Which also wasn't strong, because of clouds.

Right now, it's 2:19, and the collar shows 9 hours left. We charge it around 4:00, so that's fine. It also has a strong wi-fi and GPS signal at the moment. Pepper is out behind the garage.

I know Farmer H has been checking on Pepper all day. He said he was going to keep an eye on the battery life. I tried to tell him that it's not the end of the world if the battery goes dead. Pepper doesn't know it's dead. Pepper still remembers getting shocks. He's likely to avoid those areas. And even IF he would leave our fence area, he won't go far. The worst that could happen, I imagine, is that he goes to the neighbor's house, where he may or may not make their dogs bark, and may or may not be seen by them. It's not like Pepper is a wandering Scarlett.

A Whining Update

It's Monday now. My sickness is progressing. It has been fairly mild, as colds go. Sunday morning was the worst, with chills and then burning up, though I didn't feel like I had a fever. Just an inability to regulate my temperature. My eyes were sensitive to the sunlight when I went to town. I had a few sniffles, but not enough to cart around Puffs. Some sneezes later Sunday evening. Now I feel a bit of nose stuffiness and ear crackling. A tiny bit of wheeziness in the chest. But sometimes, I forget that I am sick. I have hope, because Farmer H seems to be getting over his bout, and it's the eighth day for him.

Farmer H picked up Domino's Pizza for us on Sunday evening. So I still had that treat. AND (knock on everything wooden within reach!) I still am able to taste. I attribute our quick recovery to doubling up on the vitamins. They contain vitamin C, zinc, and quercetin, which fight the replication of a virus.

Farmer H made another trip down the 13 rail-less steps to the basement on Sunday night. He was going to one of the safes anyway, after a weekend of business at his SUS2.5. But he DID re-set the router and satellite receiver again while he was down there. And it WORKED! My internet is back to regular speed! Though still too slow for The Pony's tastes, and just the mention of it makes me reach for all things wood again. I might have a new complaint, about bruised knuckles from knocking.

Still no ice from FRIG II. Farmer H looked up fixes on his phone Monday morning, and says he will try some of them when he gets home.

We continue not to think about T-Hoe's gas tank issue...