Crow-Eating, Egg-Faced Karen...Or Good Samaritan?

Thursday evening around 5:00, I heard Farmer H's phone ring. He carries it in a holster on his belt. I heard the velcro rrrip as he drew it to answer. I even turned off my music on HIPPIE, to try and see what it was about. His Harem, maybe, from the senior apartments? Or somebody wanting merchandise from his SUS2.5? But hopefully not one of the kids calling with a problem.

Farmer H had proceeded through the living room to the bathroom, to put away some medicine he had picked up at the pharmacy. I couldn't hear much, but the tone seemed to be one of denial, and not agreement. He came back to the kitchen, and began talking before I could even start my inquisition.

"That was our across-the-road neighbor. She said, 'I see your dog down here on the road by the mailboxes.' I told her, 'You don't see MY dog. He's got a shock collar, and hasn't left the property in four days. He's on the back porch right now. ' And she started sputtering, 'Oh. Do you know of anybody else out here with a white dog?' Heh, heh. I bet she feels like a rumpus right now."

"I told you, I'm not so sure Pepper was the one making her dogs bark at night. Especially since you saw that other dog in our yard around the same time, making OUR dogs bark at night. I mean, sure, I know Pepper goes over there. But without a picture, I'm not convinced it was him that night before their complaint."

"Well. I KNOW it's not Pepper down by the mailboxes. I'm going out to see. I ain't got no notice that he's out of the fence."

Farmer H stepped out the kitchen door and called to Pepper. Who came running, thinking there was another treat.

"See? She cain't blame Pepper this time."

"She DOES seem to be overly interested in OUR dogs. Trying to catch them at something, and point the finger at us on Facebook. Do you think she's being petty about it, or just trying to let us know? She told you she saw Scarlett and Jack all the way out by the highway that one time. It's hard to believe, but with Scarlett it was very possible. Maybe she just wants us to know, in case we might want to go "rescue" our dog. But if she really was such a dog lover, and sure it's ours, you'd think she would put him in her car at the mailbox, and drive him back up here."

"Nah. She's doin' it just to be a busybody, and make us look like we don't take care of our dogs."

"Too bad she couldn't put THIS one on Facebook, and ask if it belongs to anybody out here. Like she did with Pepper that first time she saw him. So you could have replied on there that Pepper is home with a shock collar."

"She didn't sound happy when I told her it wasn't Pepper. She sounded like she'd been caught doing something."

Later that evening, our dogs went crazy barking. Jack on the porch, and Pepper over in front of the BARn. Farmer H went to see if anybody was messing with his stuff. He said both Pepper and Jack were very interested in the $2000 white truck parked in front of the BARn. I said maybe somebody was trying to steal it. Farmer H said it was more likely an animal, because Pepper and Jack kept sniffing the tires.

Huh. Maybe it's some other dog running around. Maybe the one from the mailboxes. It could be that somebody dumped one. Or just one who lives out here, and is allowed to be a dog.

Pepper's Progress

Thank the Gummi Mary, Pepper seems to have suffered no ill effects from being run over by Farmer H and The Pony in SilverRedo on Monday. He's been his usual bouncy, energetic self since Wednesday. As for adjusting to the confines of the GPS collar, Pepper is learning quickly.

Tuesday, Pepper stayed pretty close to the Mansion. There were two attempts to go under the barbed wire fence that separates our property from the next door guy Farmer H went to high school with. Both times, Pepper turned back at the warning. 

This was at the very beginning of our driveway. I'm not surprised. There must be a rabbit trail there. All our dogs (Grizzly the lab/beagle, Tank the purebred beagle, Poor Dumb Ann the black German shepherd, and my Sweet, Sweet Juno the border collie/lab, and little dachshund/heeler Jack) have run under the fence there, and chased rabbits through the brush and across the road. Scarlett the adopted purebred Australian shepherd was not big on rabbit-chasing.

Anyhoo... when I came home from town on Tuesday afternoon, the team of Pepper/Jack jumped off the back of the carport and took to chasing another trail they have down into the woods behind the house. I think it's the scampering squirrels they're after there. This time, Jack went first. Pepper hesitated, then followed. While I was waiting for the garage door to raise, Pepper came back! Sat in front of me on the carport, looking dejected, ears down.

The Pony called, saying he got a notice on his phone that there was a breach. Yes! I got it on my phone as I went in the house. Pepper had crossed the boundary, and got a shock.

Wednesday, midmorning, there was another breach notice, following a notice that Pepper had turned back. This was way down by the creek, on the opposite end of our other 10 acres. The Pony also texted me about that one. I know why it happened. Farmer H's squirrel-hunting buddy was out here. I'm sure Pepper followed him down into the woods, and was going after a squirrel.

Thursday, there was one turn-back at the end of our driveway, where Pepper would cross over to go to the neighbors who complained about night visits making their penned dogs bark.

Farmer H goes to the part of the Halo 5 Collar app that tells how the dog is responding to training. For example, after the first day, including the multiple shocks just before Pepper got run over (!), it showed compliance (or whatever the term is) of 5%. On Thursday evening, it was 33%. I'm sure that will get better each time an incident happens where Pepper turns back at the warning.

Anyhoo... here are the kind of notifications we get, along with a time stamp.

FENCE BREACH AVOIDED

Pepper entered the warning zone and returned to the safe zone.

(On the map, the area is marked with a ! for turning back at the warning sound, and !! for turning back after the mild shock.)

FENCE BREACH DETECTED

Pepper left the fence.

(On the map, the area is marked with !!! for getting the full shock.)

RETURNED TO SAFETY

Pepper re-entered the fence.

(No marking on the map, since it is where the breach occurred.)

We can open the app on our phones any time, and see the map. It will show the latest five fence breaches/avoidances, and the current location of Pepper.

Every evening, Farmer H takes off Pepper's collar to charge it for 1 hour. It supposedly will last for 48 hours, but we're not sure how accurate that is. Thus the daily routine, rather than doing it every 36 hours and alternating morning and evening.

After a bumpy start, this Halo 5 Collar seems to be serving our purposes.

OH NO! This Has Gone Horribly Wrong!!! (Part 2)

The dog trainers, Farmer H and The Pony, had left for town ten minutes earlier, when I heard the kitchen door open. I went to the kitchen, and found an upset Pony.

"We were watching to see if Pepper chased the truck when we left. He was running along on our grass, but still in the boundary. I could tell he wasn't going to stop at the end, so on my phone I started manually giving him the warning sound. Pepper didn't react. He got shocked when he crossed the boundary, and WENT UNDER THE TRUCK! We ran over him! Dad stopped and put him in the back of the truck, and I got in and rode back to the house with him. We can't SEE anything wrong, except he's limping a little bit on his front left leg."

Farmer H came in next.

"Did you run over Pepper? Or did he just go under the truck, and the wheels missed him?"

"No. We definitely felt a big bump."

"But it was the back tires, Mom. So not all the weight from the motor."

"It's a freakin' TRUCK! He might have internal injuries, or a concussion!"

"I'll take him to the vet tomorrow if he's hurt. He looks okay. I pressed all around on his ribs and back, and he didn't yelp or nothin'."

"He probably has a concussion, and can't think! He's in shock, and doesn't know he's hurt."

"He yelped when the shock hit him, Mom. It kept shocking him when he didn't turn back. It was terrible. I shut it off manually on my phone. I think he went under the truck trying to get to Dad, because he thinks Dad will make the shocks stop."

My theory is that Pepper was running full speed beside the truck, and the shocks made him lose control, like when a person gets tased, and his momentum made him tumble under the truck.

While Farmer H drove The Pony to town, I called for Pepper, who was under the carport in a hole he likes to lie in. He came to the kitchen, and CAME IN, which he hasn't done since he was a pup. Walked in and stood by the table, his back to me at the door. I sweet-talked him and he finally turned around. He looked droopy and sad, with a slight limp on the left front leg.

I finally coaxed Pepper back out on the porch with a piece of stale bun dipped in bacon grease. He sniffed it, but wouldn't eat. He slunk into Juno's old house right by the door, and wouldn't come out all night.

Tuesday morning at 5:45, Pepper came to the laundry room door where Farmer H feeds him. He walked into the laundry room, and sat in front of the washer, wagging his tail. Then went back out when commanded, and ate some food.

When I left for town that afternoon, Pepper was his usual peppy self. Romping and waiting for his treat, ears up, curious. I think he's probably stressed from the ordeal, and seeking safety in the house, remembering puppyhood when he got to come in every morning for petting.

Right now, Pepper is staying close to the Mansion. 

OH NO! This Has Gone HORRIBLY Wrong!!! (Part 1)

On my way to pick up The Pony on Monday, for Pepper's collar training, I was quite dismayed to see Pepper running along behind T-Hoe. He usually goes halfway up the driveway with me, running in the grass where I can see him. That has only been going on for about two weeks. I honk the horn, or put down the window and say "PEPPER! NO!" Then Pepper stops.

This time, Pepper continued. No amount of stopping or NO-ing had an affect. In fact, Pepper gave me a look like, "What are you going to do about it?" Something I didn't want to see, but normal for an animal to try and figure out limits. I told The Pony this tale, and said, "I know this is wrong, but a part of me will not be upset for Pepper to get a little shock. He was being so INSOLENT! He needs to learn the consequences."

Indeed, the Halo 5 Collar could not have arrived at a better time. Farmer H said that a few days ago, he was over in the BARn field, and he saw Pepper chase a UPS truck along the gravel road. Farmer H hollered at him, and when he came back, Farmer H held him by the collar, and "whipped his butt." Just with a hand, of course, a couple swats on the hip.

"He didn't like that at all! He tried to run away, and pulled too hard against the collar, and started coughing and choking.

"He doesn't know what he did wrong! Because got his whoopin' when he CAME BACK. He probably doesn't associate it with chasing the truck."

 "It's a good thing The Pony's getting the new collar ready, because we can't have him chasing cars."

AND when Farmer H and HOS left here on Sunday evening, after dropping off some stuff at the Freight Container Garage, Pepper chased them down the road, almost to the mailboxes. That's a mile!

"He wouldn't go back when we hollered at him. Usually he won't go no farther than the neighbor at the top of the hill. We finally got out and threw rocks at him, and he started back."

Obviously, this was the right time to get Pepper trained, since his roaming behavior was escalating. The Pony watched the training videos. Showed Farmer H right here in the kitchen. They went out with the collar and a baggie of cut-up hot dogs for treats. They were gone about 45 minutes, walking Pepper around the front yard/field and adjacent 10 acres. Showing the boundaries along the front and sides. Pepper got the warning sound when close. Then a small shock. Then the Level 6 (out of 15) shock when he kept going and wouldn't turn back.

"He twitched when it hit him. Let out a yelp. Then laid down and pawed at the collar with his front paws. He didn't like that much. He definitely felt it."

That shocking episode happened when they let Pepper off the leash, and came back for the lawnmower. Farmer H rode it along the BARn field, to see if Pepper would chase. He wasn't chasing, but ran across the road to the hill neighbor's field. That's when he got zapped, and came back.

None of us expected Pepper to be completely trained by this single session. He would have to learn some on his own, while unsupervised. And Farmer H could work with him some more in the evenings. He and The Pony said they thought Pepper was associating the hot dog treat with getting shocked, because toward the end, he wouldn't eat them.

Around 4:50, Farmer H left in SilverRedO to take The Pony home. They were curious if Pepper would try to chase them. I went on about my business. At 5:00, I was in the bathroom, and heard the kitchen door open. That couldn't be good! They should have been in town by then.

It was worse than I expected...

The Training Shall Commence!

The Pony has the Halo 5 Collar ready for Pepper. Farmer H plans to start training on Monday evening. Sunday night, The Pony sent a text:

"OOF! That collar packs a punch. A 6 on the 1-15 scale makes my hand twitch, and an 8 did it down to my elbow. Right now I'm setting it to a loud beep (so we can tell when it goes off). They have a silent dog whistle setting that might work, too.

It'll go BEEP, to a 3 (minor shock), to a 6 as the "out of bounds" one. I'm not sure I'm comfortable going higher than a 6 on a dog Pepper's size."

Also, The Pony sent Farmer H an aerial picture of the zone. It's a view of our acreage and house and BARn and Freight Container Garage. We couldn't see for sure where the creek runs in the back, because of the trees in the satellite view. The Pony thinks the boundary is set about a half-acre across the creek. We just own a little strip of land across the creek, but it's all woods, nothing on it from the neighbors back there. 

Farmer H swears that he has the leash.

"It's on the pet carrier sitting out on the sidewalk where I park my truck."

"You think?"

"That's where I left it after the vet for the operation."

"Out in the weather? Couldn't you hang it on a nail in the garage?"

"It's fine, HM."

"If it's still there! You know how Pepper likes to chew on things..."

"Well, it's there if he ain't drug it off."

I guess I need to check and see if the leash is there, before I pick up The Pony on Monday. We're stopping by the Devil's Playground for a better charging cord for the collar. Might as well pick up another leash while we're there.

Oh, NO! Another Final Notice!

Is there really any money in this scam? How do the Final Notice senders make a buck? Their envelope might fool some people into thinking it's an official notice.

So they open it in a panic. Or out of curiosity, like I did. Since we have no loans to be finally notified about, I do not feel the urge to call about this urgent matter regarding our property.

The letter itself might lead people to think they are in danger of losing their property, rather than just on the hook for repairs. I even had to ask Farmer H: "What in the Not-Heaven is a Home Warranty?" He said it's like a policy for repairs, in case something goes wrong. I could imagine this for a vehicle. I am not familiar with such a thing for homes. I guess that's because we didn't get a loan to buy a house.

I've cropped the first paragraph, because it listed our specific address.

I suppose this no-name company (oh, wait, there's an actual "business" name in the tiny print of the last sentence) can make money from people calling, then fast-talking them into buying "coverage" for their appliances. 

It doesn't seem like an efficient scam to me.

The Healing Has Begun

Friday evening, I took the gauze pad bandage off my hole-y forearm. Not because I thought the wound was ready to let out, but because my arm was itching terribly. Not the healing wound, but the area along the top border where the tape held the bandage. I did NOT want a repeat of the bandaid itch-itis! I thought this tape would be fine. And so far, it was only one of the four sides that was itching.

I was careful not to stretch the skin and re-open the wound. I cut along the gauze on three sides, then pulled it back, and watched to make sure the tape removal did not stretch the hole area. What I discovered was that simply peeling off the tape left mini holes in my papery thin old lady skin!

Still, the bandage was off. The wound could breathe.

It didn't look too bad. Still an oozy place that hadn't covered over. It had not stuck to the gauze, which was basically dry, with only a tiny trace of blood on the underside.

I was careful not to bump the arm, or let any clothing get caught on it. Left it open overnight. Postponed my shower on Saturday morning, due to not wanting to disturb that wound or get it wet. It looked pretty good to me on Saturday afternoon.

Starting to close up. The area around it looks like it has taken a beating, but that's just a little bruising, most of which was there before, from grocery bags. Is it just me, or does the healing hole look like grape jelly?

Anyhoo... I left it uncovered for town. I don't like subjecting people to such a gory sight, but they have no business scrutinizing my body anyway!

Preparing For Pepper's Basic Training

I haven't talked to The Pony yet to see how it's going, setting up the Halo 5 Collar to keep Pepper GPS-ically on our property. I told Farmer H that I was worried about getting the right coordinates for the 10 acres next to the BARn field. It has no address. Just the street name. Farmer H says it will show up on the satellite view. That the landmarks will be visible, like where our little cedar forest ends, and where he stops mowing. The back border is basically the creek, so hopefully it won't be blocked by leafy trees.

We will have to find the leashes that Farmer H keeps proclaiming that he had. I know I bought a new one when I got Pepper's regular collar. I don't know where Farmer H put it. He declared that he already had a leash for taking Pepper to the vet for his operation. 

I swear, Farmer H loses leashes like the boys used to lose school scissors and rulers. Every year, they would bring their stuff home on the last day of elementary school, but then it would be gone when time to start again in the fall. I told Genius that he must have a stash of them under the floorboards of his bedroom. Like "The Telltale Heart." Which he actually used later during his high school years. Not the missing scissors and ruler, but the theme of "The Telltale Heart," for his PEEPS diorama that was an assignment for English class.

Anyhoo... The Pony and I need to give Farmer H a stern talking-to about training Pepper. None of his verbose lectures. Just short commands. No elaboration. No shaming. It's really hard for Farmer H to control his overactive mouth.

Farmer H is busy on the weekend, with his SUS2.5, and making two trips to the city to get cheap rich people cabinets from a remodel. Monday would be the likely day to start training, but it's supposed to rain Monday and Tuesday right now.

We need to get this show on the road. I hope Pepper has been staying home at night. I hear him barking out front. Wouldn't it be rich if I caught the neighbor dogs over here making OUR dog bark? I doubt that it's them. More likely a possum or armadillo.

I'm Starting To Think A Bribe Would Have Been More Efficient

We have been looking for a fenceless system to keep our dog Pepper at home. He really doesn't travel far or often. But since the across-the-road neighbor complained that Pepper comes over at night and makes his penned dogs bark (as if they never bark otherwise), we are trying to contain Pepper on our property. Which is 20 contiguous acres. That's plenty of room for a dog to be a dog.

Genius said he still has contacts at his previous company (who sold his division to another company) who can get the 40% employee discount on their products. Unfortunately, they don't have a fenceless system. Only three kinds of collars for tracking and training hunting dogs. 

I looked at a variety of products. One was over $1200! And still, it had complaints like it would sometimes shock the dog if it went under a carport roof. Nope! Not our Pepper. The Pony had also looked at a lot of products. The one we kept coming back to was the Halo 5 Collar.

It is not cheap! I think it was $575, but on sale for $75 off. And it has a subscription fee, for $9.99 a month, but we got the next higher level, which I think was $14.99 a month. Of course I also got a protection plan, because it's a DOG COLLAR, by cracky! And dogs lose collars, or they get chewed on by another dog. So this can get a replacement for way cheaper than a new one, or upgrade if a newer version is released. Anyhoo... by the time all these charges added up, we're in for about $700-$800.

I told Farmer H: "We'd probably have been just as well off to take $1000 cash across the road, and say, 'This is for the annoyance of having Pepper come to your house. Maybe this will make it a little easier to deal with.' I bet they would take it, and never say another word. But we'll give this collar a try, and hope it works."

"Yeah. They might have took it. We're already up to $500 for the vet and surgery. But I'm not tying up my dog. I kind of like little Pepper. It's not hurting us. We can afford it."

The Halo 5 Collar works on GPS coordinates. The main thingy is stored in the collar itself. So even if the wi-fi goes down, it will still work. It's designed for areas 3/4 of an acre or bigger. It's endorsed by the Dog Whisperer, Cesar Milan. Supposedly, with proper training, and the warning features, the dog might never even get a shock.

I told Farmer H: "I'm betting that Pepper will feel a shock!"

"Yeah. Me too. But he's been minding me pretty well now. And he comes when I call him."

"He doesn't bother the groceries on the chair. All I have to do is say, 'Pepper! NO!' and he walks away from the chair."

"Yeah. He's not stupid. He's growing up, and his operation helped."

The collar was delivered on Thursday. I'm taking it to The Pony, to see if he can get the coordinates set up while using faster internet in town. It will probably be Monday before Farmer H and The Pony can start training Pepper.

I've Been Burned (Gouged) By The (Fake) Fire(place)

Today I take a break from plagiarizing Ed Sheeran lyrics, and move on to Tom Petty for my title. It's a line from "Insider." [at 1:40 in this 5:26 YouTube duet with Stevie Nicks]

If you are the squeamish sort, you might not want to continue. I've put the gory pictures in reverse order, so as not to traumatize people with the thumbnail. I can't be settling personal injury lawsuits from the fainters, because I might be dealing with lawsuits from the music theft!

Anyhoo... a terrible tragedy befell me on Tuesday morning. I was getting up from my OPC (Old People Chair) to pull up the shorts that go with my leg pumps. In lifting my left arm, I hit the corner of the fake electric fireplace that's on the wall next to the OPC. A normal person could take a beatin' and keep on reachin', but I have thin, papery old lady skin, as The Pony says.

The corner of the fireplace ripped a triangle-shaped piece of skin loose. I knew it was going to bleed like an open fire hydrant. Good thing I have that cardboard box of supplies on the table next to the OPC, because no way could I hurry out of the carpeted living room with those heavy canvas shorts around my ankles, and seven assorted hoses strewn in my path. I could at least grab a piece of paper towel from my emergency stash.

There I stood, pressing the wound, pondering my next move. I sat down, kept my arm flat, and grabbed the box with my right hand. Of course I had everything in there but the kitchen sink, and bandaids. I had some non-stick flat gauze squares, though. And scissors. And tape. So I cut a gauze square in half, and tore off two strips of clear tape. I managed a makeshift bandage. It held up pretty well.

The injury happened around 10:15. As I readied myself for town at 2:30, I noticed that blood had started to seep through the gauze. It wasn't wet. There's a barrier. So I went on to town, rather than take time to re-bandage. 

Here's what it was like when I got home:

A bit misleading to pose it over my cutting board, but I was making Farmer H's supper at the time of the photos and the changing of the bandage. It's about to get gory. This is your warning to step away!

I took the bandage off by the wastebasket. Taking off the two tape pieces pulled my fragile skin. Blood started flowing again, even though this was now 4:00, and six hours after the injury. Lucky for me the paper towel holder was right there, so I got it blotted over and over, as I went to the living room to show Farmer H. Who of course had a large bandaid on HIS left arm, in the same place! Said he knocked it into a stack of 2x4s at Lowe's. But mine was more dramatic, I declared!

You can see the triangle of gouged skin. I know it won't be growing back. But I can't trim it off right now. Only press it back down with a new bandage. The pinkness around it is from the wiped-off blood, not inflammation. I'll stick with my bandages and clear tape, because I don't want to use one of Farmer H's big bandaids and find out I'm allergic to the adhesive.

I plan to leave my current bandage on a day or two, unless it seeps through too much. To allow the wound to start healing, and not bleed every time the skin is stretched taking off the tape. For showering, I plan to cut the top and bottom off a sandwich baggie, and slip that over my bandage. The tape to hold it on should be far enough away from the wound so that taking it off won't stretch the injured area.

Oh, and don't worry about Farmer H's supper. It was just corn dogs. They were in the oven when I unbandaged and got everything cleaned up again. I didn't have to touch his food, just take the pan out of the oven when they were done. Cutting board got washed with the dishes.

Too Far! Even If My Helicopter Wasn't Up On Blocks.

I am a bit worried about Genius. He has been trying to call me since last week. One day I was in the middle of 10Box, and the reception isn't good. Another day I was driving, and talking on the phone while driving is now against the law here in Missouri, unless you have the hands-free set-up, which I don't. I was on the little road that passes by the Double Hovel Beauty Shop, taking a shortcut. So I explained I couldn't really talk, but had ansered in case something was wrong.

Genius got through to me on Saturday, while I was sitting at the kitchen table. He was on-call with work, but had a spare moment. We chatted about 30 minutes. Nothing vital was discussed.

Tuesday morning before 9:00, Genius called again.

"Now I don't want you to worry about me. I'm fine. But last week, I was eating supper, and I had some kind of allergic reaction. My lips swelled up, and my lower jaw. I didn't feel like I couldn't breathe. I wasn't worried enough to go to the ER. I took some Benadryl, and the swelling went down. I have an appointment with my doctor to discuss it. The pharmacy guy gave me an epi pen. So I have that, in case something happens before I see the doctor. I'm just calling to see what Grandpa was allergic to. I remember he had to carry and epi pen."

"That was wasps. And he was a lineman with the telephone company, so likely to run into a nest every now and then. He never had to use it, but he had it."

"Oh. Well. I didn't eat a wasp, heh, heh!"

"Your cousin Niecy is allergic to strawberries. And maybe shrimp. But I don't know that any of the rest of us have food allergies."

"Okay. I was just trying to find out some history to tell the doctor."

"What were you eating?"

"Just a burger and fries, from Shake Shack. I've eaten the exact same thing a lot of times, and never had any problem."

"What was on the burger?"

"Just meat and cheese and peppers."

"Huh. I guess it could have been something with the peppers, even though you never had a problem before. Or maybe they used a spatula on something else, and then on your burger."

"I was out in the yard earlier. But I didn't get stung by anything."

"Your grandpa was also really allergic to poison ivy. I had it once, and never again. I know it's in the oil from the leaves. But they say it can be carried by smoke and affect people. Or maybe you touched something or brushed against it. Like it was on your pants, and you rubbed your hands on your leg, and then touched the burger. I don't know. I bet your doctor refers you for allergy testing."

"Yeah. She might. But I'm fine now. So don't worry about me. Friend ate the same thing as I did, and he didn't have any reaction."

"I'll try not to worry about you. You seem to have things under control."

Yeah. I am very busy not worrying right now...

Scratchmaker, Scratchmaker, Make Us A Match

Did I mention that the local Missouri Lottery scratcher machines have been replaced? Or maybe just re-programmed. It happened at Country Mart a couple weeks ago, as The Pony and I walked in to shop. About six employees were standing at the end of a register, talking. We walked up to the first machine, and a guy came over.

"We just got training. Here's how they work now. Touch the screen to make your selection. Then it goes into a cart instead of coming out. At the end, you go to your cart, and that's when you put in your money, or scan your winners. When you put enough in, the machine dispenses your tickets."

I'm glad he was there to show me. It was really easy. If I'd been left to try it myself, it would have taken forever. I'd have thought it was broken, because it wouldn't take my money, or scan the winners in at the beginning. Technology and me, you know.

Anyhoo... the machines at both Save A Lots are new now. And both of them at 10Box.

I went in 10Box on Sunday, and was disappointed to see two old ladies with their carts parked in front of the lottery machines. They're in a corner, and I had no way to get to either on. Besides, the ladies weren't even buying tickets. They were standing with their BACKS to the machines, carts pointed out, just talking. I figured I'd have to stand off to the side and wait, but they noticed me, and pushed  their carts forward a bit so I could have access.

While I was making my selections, I heard them chatting. I guess one had told the other how the "new" machines worked. One explained where she lived. The other said she was so glad to meet her. That it's really hard to make new friends when you get older. The first one agreed. It sounded like they were planning to get together sometime.

Isn't that cool? Two old ladies made a new friend, all because of the scratcher machines.

What's Going On Here?

You never know what you might see at the Gas Station Chicken Store. Even if it's not within the store itself. Saturday I nabbed my rightful handicap parking space beside the building. Facing the back alley, I noticed something unusual. [Despite this photo giving a crisp fall day feel, it was actually 92 degrees.]

Do you see it, there in the distance? Not the building. That used to be a can-opener factory. Might still be. I know people work there, and a shift gets off at 3:00 or 3:30, which makes me wait on a string of traffic to get back on the main road.

No, it's not the building I noticed.

Why is there a truck in that big field? Was somebody joy-riding and broke down? Trying to evade the police and take a long bumpy shortcut? It's not like concerts are held there, or festivals, where cars are directed to park in that field. I don't know who owns it, but it is usually kept mowed. I'm pretty sure this truck doesn't belong.

Looks like it's going to need a tow.

Five Years Seems Overly Optimistic

You may recall that the end of July was when I received my leg pumps for lymphedema. I have been using them every day. It takes an hour, hooked up to that contraption. Getting my legs unwrapped and wrapped again adds another half hour. But I have a routine. It's not unpleasant. Actually kind of relaxing and massage-y. Just time consuming.

Anyhoo... I've only had the leg pumps for about six weeks. And a couple of weeks ago, I BROKE part of the contraption!!! Which is supposed to last me for five years, before insurance will pay for another. And even with insurance, this one cost me $1,172.01.

I didn't recall doing anything wrong. But one morning, the last hose would clip on. No matter how much I wiggled it, or pressed harder to click in into place, it wouldn't fit.  Here I was, my legs all zipped up in the canvas-y fabric, eight other hoses clicked in, and I couldn't proceed. I looked closer at the controller/pumper.

Two of these things are not like the others. I took this picture a couple days later. At the time, all the ports had hoses plugged in except the lower left, which is meant to be empty. So I was only looking at the lower right port. I hadn't been using this contraption long enough to know what I should be looking at. Before, I just snapped the hoses into place, and didn't have to think.

Finally, I looked into the end of the hose connector, and saw something that seemed different. I realized that the little cap thingy was stuck inside the connector. I used the point of an ink pen to pop it loose. Then I set it into the port. There's a little groove that has to line up at top. And a little notch in the connector that must fit, to click the hose into place.

That's the underside of the cap. Those white areas are where I think glue was put on at the factory, to stick it into place. I just flipped it over and set it on, then the hose connected. But when I took it loose later, that cap popped off again. The closer I inspected, I found a raised area. It's like when you buy a model car, and snap the pieces off the plastic holder they come attached to, and sometimes there's a raised nub. This raised nub had kept the glue from holding, because the entire cap was not flush.

You can see the other circles on the underside. The white one at the bottom is where there was a raised section. I filed it down with a raspy sandpapery nail file. The other white areas on the rim are just from where the factory glue was put. I didn't do any filing except that lower circle. Got it almost down to the surface.

I got some Elmer's School Glue at 10Box. I put it on with a toothpick, over those white areas. I held it with pressure for two minutes. Then I left it alone for 24 hours. Now my hose clicks on like a charm. The cap stays in place when I remove  the hose.

I'm a regular MacGyver!

I guess I need to be. This pump still has 4 years and 10.5 months to go.

How Much Bad Luck Can One Person Endure

Once again, I am worried about Fave. She was there Thursday as normal, behind the counter at the Gas Station Chicken Store. I was the only customer at the time. I handed her my winners, and the envelope with her tickets I give every week. She thanked me, and rang up my scratchers. 

Something was off. Fave was a bit subdued. Not herself. I wondered if I had said something out of line last week. We joke around. But I couldn't recall anything. We were fine when I left on Sunday.

Fave wished me good luck. I started the three steps towards the door. Then Fave said,

"My dad is in the hospital. He had two strokes. He went in to fix something in his shoulder. He had the strokes on the operating table. Also he aspirated. He has pneumonia and an infection. He's been there since Tuesday. The hospital just called to see if I knew his wishes. I didn't know what to say."

Well. That is very sad news. I am hoping something good will happen, and Fave's dad will respond to treatment. It will be no mystery if she is not there on Friday.

Farmer H Marches (And Lies) To His Own Drum

Wednesday evening, we watched Big Brother as usual. It was 90 minutes this time, though usually an hour. Farmer H was in his recliner, wearing only tighty-whities after a soak in the big jetted triangle tub in the master bathroom. I was in my Mansion-wear, reclined in my OPC (Old People Chair).

We had just gotten to the end of the veto competition. After commercial, the winner would be revealed, and we'd see if the veto was used. There was about 20 minutes of show left.

To my surprise, Farmer H had gotten up for a bathroom visit, during the last competitor of the veto competition. Then lay down on the long couch. The surprise was his cocooning.

Yeah. He's in there. His head is on the left, on top of his pile of clean laundry that's only been there two days so far. His feet are to the right, hanging off the end. Farmer H was moaning that he was cold.

"Huh. Some people might just put on clothes, rather than sit around shivering in their underwear."

"I don't need no clothes. I'm going to bed."

"NOW? We'll see who won after the commercial."

"You can tell me tomorrow."

So after less than five minutes on the couch, Farmer H got up and went to bed. That seems like a lot of effort for me, to grab the afghan and unfold it and wrap up in it and shimmy into an acceptable position on the couch. He could have grabbed it and covered up in his recliner and finished the show. Or just gone to bed instead of coming back out after his bathroom trip.

There's no explaining the behavior of Farmer H.

_______________________________________________________________

The afghan was a gift from one of my uncle's friends when my family visited him in Alaska way back in the 70s. The blanket on the back of the couch was made by my niece, Niecy, just for fun. 

_______________________________________________________________

A Plan Not To My Liking

Remember how we were all set to get an electronic fence to keep our newest dog Pepper home at night? Or any time of day, really, but the complaint was about the night. Anyhoo... Farmer H spent $424.32 on that fencing system. I thought we were all set. The Pony was coming out Monday, and they'd get it going.

Nope. 

Farmer H changed his mind! He took that fencing system back on Sunday! Returned it, and got a credit of $404.27 back on the debit card. He said he didn't think that a radius of 150 feet was enough space. And then told me his new plan.

"I'm gonna board up the back porch. Like when Pepper was a pup. [That part of the porch is STILL boarded up, except around the water bowl!] I'll put a gate over by the BBQ grill. We'll keep the dogs on the porch at night. Then in the morning, I'll open the gate and let them out. Because he only complained about the night, and the barking from his dogs."

"NO! I don't like that! I don't want the porch boarded up. You've already ruined the porch with all those dang wagon wheels. And all the junk you have sitting around. I couldn't walk around the porch if I wanted to. I don't want to mess with a gate. And Pepper can get his paws and arms up on the rail. I'm afraid he might try to jump over, and get hurt going off the back porch."

"HM. You wouldn't have to do anything with the gate. I would open it in the morning, and close it at night. Pepper ain't gonna jump off the porch. And them wagon wheels look good! Everybody says so."

"No. I don't like it. They'll have to hold their poop and pee, or you'll have to clean it up. And they can still get over to annoy the neighbors in the day."

"They ain't complained about the day."

"She said they eat her cat food that she leaves out."

"She SAID. But any animal can come eat cat food. We had that possum coming up on the porch. And that dead armadillo out by the carport."

"I don't like the porch idea. Why can't we just get a fencing system? You bought it, then took it back!"

"If you can find one that gives them more space, fine."

"The Pony looked one up. It's only a little more, but there's a $10 a month subscription fee. That's nothing. We won't even notice it."

"If it works..."

"I'll let The Pony describe it on Monday when we grill."

To be continued...

Speaking (Or Writing) Of The Spy-ers...

I was not surprised last week when we got a particular piece of junk mail. It was a cardboard ad for a seminar. We get such things often, usually for Farmer H, concerning hearing aids. He never goes, but somehow those dirty, dirty spy-ers must have heard me yelling daily at him, often ending with: "You need to get hearing aids!"

This ad was not for hearing aids.

Heh, heh! It's for a PEE seminar! I got a chuckle out of that. Especially with it coming during the time The Pony was getting an ad for talking about spinny chairs. I didn't know if this ad was generated by me writing about Farmer H's pee issues from his "prostate roto-rootering" surgery, or from our phones listening in on when Farmer H was talking about his pee issues after the surgery.

Anyhoo... here I was, chuckling over this pee seminar ad, getting ready to send a picture to The Pony and expose another dirty, dirty spy-er. Then I looked at the address, to see if it actually had Farmer H's name, or just said Resident, and could have been a mass mailing.

Imagine my surprise when I saw that it was addressed to ME!

I don't know what that's all about! I guess it could have been from my writing, or from my phone listening in. Which reminds me, I don't think I've shared this with The Pony yet.

Those Dirty Spy-ers!

On our way home from picking up my long-awaited prescription on Thursday, The Pony and I were talking about old school days.

"I really liked having practice for Academic Team at the middle school. We had those spinny chairs. It was fun."

Of course, because why would The Pony want to concentrate on practicing spouting knowlege when there was a chance to spin round and round on a chair in the computer lab?

This was around 3:15, near the end of Errand Day. Later that evening, The Pony sent me a text.

"Remember how I mentioned the spinny chairs from middle school Academic Team in the car? Just got an ad for them."

I think the blame for this electronic eavesdropping goes to The Pony's phone. Mine would have sent ME the ad. And the OnStar feature in T-Hoe would also send it to me, not The Pony.

Dirty, dirty spy-ers! I will never invite Alexa or Siri or Dot into my Mansion!

My New Best Friend

This is my new best friend. This little LED flashlight that is emblazoned with the name and phone number of our credit union. I don't even know where I got it. Other than from the credit union, of course! Maybe it was a door prize, or maybe Farmer H got it as a souvenir from the yearly dinner that he attends. All I know is that it rests in the little basket of odds and ends on the kitchen table, my makeshift office. 

When the power went off at 5:25 Saturday evening, I still had daylight through the kitchen windows, though subdued by the storm that caused the outage. I knew I had a little flashlight in that basket. I rooted through the pens and winning $2 and $3 ShowMe Cash draw tickets that I save for The Pony. There it was! A lifesaver for when darkness fell.

Oh, it was VERY dark. No moon because of the clouds. No light after 8:30, except the two solar lights on the porch rail. To navigate the Mansion, I needed this little flashlight. He worked like a champ. Bright enough to see. Small enough to drop into my shirt pocket when sitting in the dark, awaiting my next sortie to the bathroom.

Years ago, I ordered a bunch of little LED flashlights like this, in assorted colors, for the guys' stocking stuffers. I'm going to order some more for ME. To leave in each room. They're really handy when the power goes off, and they don't take up room like a big flashlight. They don't smell up the air like a cheap candle. And they don't run down your phone battery.

I Would Rather Pepper Just Get Peppered

There's trouble in paradise! Farmer H got a text from our across-the-road neighbor on Wednesday evening. He said, "Your new dog is coming over at night and making my dogs bark. Could you do something about it?"

This upset Farmer H. Coming from neighbors he thought were our friends. We've been invited to football viewing parties and cookouts over the years. They commented on how nice Farmer H keeps our lawn. But now, Farmer H was insulted. That's how he acted, but I think he was more hurt.

"Huh. It's not like Pepper is doing anything. I guess he forgets how their dogs killed our 37 chickens. And how their horses got out and trampled through our yard and garden until they could come catch them."

"Yeah. The chickens were a bad deal. They only killed a couple a day. So there was time to do something to stop it before all of them were dead. But they didn't. Their horses wasn't really their fault. They just got out. And don't forget, Jack used to run under their fence and chase their horses. But we DID get the shock collar and break him of that. I don't think they're being jerks. They're just telling you that Pepper is a problem for them. I know that strange dog comes in our yard at night and makes Pepper and Jack bark. I wouldn't be so sure it's Pepper causing their dogs to bark. But maybe they have a camera, and it IS Pepper."

"Well, I'm not going to tie up my dog. That's why I live in the country. He's not gonna be in a pen, or in the house."

"If you got a shock collar, you'd have to stay up and catch Pepper starting over there at night. That would be almost impossible. And I think we have too much land to use the invisible fence kind of thing."

"I'm going to look them up."

"I wouldn't mind spending up to $500 for something like that if it would work. We're not paupers. I'm just not sure we can find something that works."

Farmer H spent all evening on his phone, looking at different systems, from Walmart and Petco. One of them said you could program it by satellite. Draw in your boundaries. They could be irregular. The other said it worked in a 150-foot radius. That's the one Farmer H bought, though he really preferred the satellite version. The prices were comparable, but The Veteran said he uses the 150-foot one from Petco, and it works for his dogs. It cost $424.32.

Farmer H plans to get it set up on Monday, while The Pony is here for a cookout, to help measure the boundaries. I hate to do this to Pepper. To restrict him and SHOCK him. But he can't be bothering other people. Jack learned really fast not to run into the horse field, thanks to Mr. Shocky.

I'd really rather the neighbors just use a BB gun to pepper Pepper with little pellets as discouragement. But that would be putting the responsibility on them, and that's not right.

I Guess I'll Survive (Part 5)

The Ol' Universe was rolling on the floor, clutching its universe-y innards, hee-hawing at the continuing shenanigans with Mrs. HM's medication.

Just when I was celebrating the successful procurement of my vital drug, in fact on the phone with The Pony arranging to drive over to Bill-Paying Town and pick it up that very afternoon... I got a call from the pharmacy.

"Hello? Is this Mrs. HM? I'm calling from YOUR CLINIC Family Care Pharmacy. Your NP asked me to give you a call about your medicine. It looks like your insurance won't cover this brand name drug. The cost will be $168. He wanted to make sure you knew that, to see if you still want it."

"Yes! I've been getting a 30-day supply, and it cost me $66.31. So I imagine this is for a 90-day supply. I normally wouldn't want that much, in case he might have to change it back to the 50mg. But with this, I could take two and it would be the same thing. So I'm fine with the $168. It's not a problem to get the 90. Especially since I have to drive 25 miles to get it. I'll be there this afternoon to pick it up."

"Oh. Well. We don't have it HERE. We'll have to get it. But we should have it tomorrow (Thursday) by noon."

"That will be fine! I'll be there to get it."

"We will call when it's ready. It will be a St. Louis phone number, just so you know. From our automated system."

"That's good to know. I'll be waiting for it."

So close, but yet so far! The Universe was dangling that beta blocker in front of me like a carrot on a stick. But at least I was six days closer to getting it.

THURSDAY

I started my morning routine early. It takes me three hours to do my unwrapping of legs, exercises, shower, leg pumps, and re-wrap. I wanted to have time for breakfast, and innernetting, and some laundry, and dish-washing. Then leave at 1:30 to pick up The Pony at 2:00, and go get my precious, long-awaited prescription. I had my ear on the phone, waiting for that pharmacy call to say it was ready.

I waited. A lot. Started to doubt The Universe once again. That merry prankster!

At 11:46, my phone rang. It was a St. Louis number. I answered, and it was the recording that my prescription was ready for pickup. YAAAAYYYYYYYY!

The Pony and I started our Errand Day with this pickup over in Bill-Paying Town. The pharmacy has a drive-thru window. Not the kind I prefer, that slides open and lets you talk face-to-face as they hand you the prescription. But one of those slide-out metal drawers that are a bit low for T-Hoe, with the worker hermetically sealed behind thick unbreakable glass.

The gal was very nice. She asked if I was sure I wanted the brand name. YES! She told me that there was only one bottle left at their supplier. And since they didn't have anybody else getting this drug from their pharmacy, they gave me the whole thing. Which was 100 tablets instead of 90. The cost would be $181.95. Was that okay? YES!

I tossed my debit card down into the drawer, and she sent out an electronic signing thingy for my signature with a fingertip. Then I sent it back, and got my precious DRUGS!

The gal said that when I'm almost out, to notify them so they can have a few days to get my refill. You can bet I will be doing that. I sure hope there's not a shortage at that time, or I might have to go through this all over again!

I Guess I'll Survive (Part 4)

It shouldn't be so hard to get a prescription filled. Here it was, Wednesday, and I'd been trying since the previous Thursday. Even Farmer H, with his poor communication skills, should have been able to explain what was needed, and gotten results by now. Surely Mrs. HM, a former VALedictiorian, with a 28-year teaching career, should have been able to convey her information successfully.

WEDNESDAY cont.

I finished washing my dishes. I did not run to check the phone. I can only take so many disappointments in a week. It was probably just junk email at 7:29 a.m.

But no! I saw the email was about a new message in YourChart! Which meant I had to rush back to the kitchen, because I can't get logged in and then go back to that screen on my phone. I'm sure it's a phone glitch, heh, heh, and not user error.

Once HIPPIE got warmed up, I read the most beautiful message:

_________________________________________________________

Hello Mrs. Hillbilly Mom,

The medication renewals below were approved. Please check with your pharmacy to determine when it is available for pickup or delivery.

The following prescriptions will be filled at MY CLINIC Family Care Pharmacy - Bill-Paying Town, MO.

Toprol XL 25mg extended release tablet

Thank you for using YourChart.

__________________________________________________________

I could hardly contain my glee! I was getting it! I was getting my prescription that I need to live! FINALLY, after a week of chasing it.

I called The Pony to set a pickup time to ride over to Bill-Paying Town. I mainly wanted the company, and a spare driver in case I began feeling dizzy. Or in case T-Hoe succumbed to the 100+ degree heat, I'd have The Pony to organize our rescue. We planned for 2:00.

And then I got a phone call at 12:55.

I Guess I'll Survive (Part 3)

Monday morning, I was still trying to get the prescription that I'd been given on Thursday.

MONDAY

I called the clinic around 8:30. Got a different gal than Friday. Told her that I was not able to get the Toprol XL 25mg prescription that had been called into Farmer H's pharmacy on Friday evening. So I would need either the generic, metoprolol XL 25mg, which my pharmacy had in stock... or a similar beta blocker, depending on what NP thought. Different Gal assured me she would pass this info along to the care team.

That was it. Nothing else on Monday. No return phone call. No YourChart message.

TUESDAY

I figured I'd wait my the pharmacy opened, so I could check on whether a prescription had been sent in. The gal there said yes. It was for Toprol XL 25mg. I said, "Which you still can't get." And she said yes. And that she remembered this situation. I thanked her, and told her I would be calling my doctor again. She said she would keep an eye out for a prescription for me.

I called the clinic. Got 3rd Gal. She seemed totally disinterested in my request. But said she would send the message to NP. Of course I kept my phone with me, checking at any incoming sound, lest it be a text from the pharmacy, or a YourChart message.

At 11:34, I got an email about a new YourChart message. Imagine my surprise when the message showed that a Toprol XL 50mg prescription had been canceled, and a new prescription for Toprol XL 25mg had been sent to my pharmacy.

THAT DIDN'T HELP! They'd sent another prescription that couldn't be filled!

I called the clinic. Got 4th Gal. Who was kind and understood and seemed like somebody who could get something done.

"I don't mean to be complaining. I just want to get my prescription. I've made a lot of calls here, and nothing seems to get done."

"I will expedite this to your provider. I will use different words, so maybe he will understand. Don't you worry. You HAVE to keep on them to get anything done!"

That gave me high hopes that I'd hear something before I left for town. Nope. Not a word. So frustrating. I told Farmer H when he got home, and I had heard nothing by 5:00.

"I'll go down there tomorrow! I'll go to the counter and tell 'em that you HAVE to get your medicine! This is ridiculous. Tomorrow it will be a WEEK, and you still don't have it!"

"They're not going to tell you anything! Even though you're listed on my contacts, and that you can pick up my meds. They'll say, 'Why isn't SHE talking to us about it?' It won't do any good, and you'll just make a scene."

"Then YOU should go down there! Tell them ain't nobody doin' nothin' to get it right."

"I'll think about it. I'll call the pharmacy, in case they sent something in this afternoon. Then I'll call the clinic again. I might just ask for a work-in appointment. So I can talk to NP in person! To get this figured out!"

WEDNESDAY

The plan was in place. The Pony was on call to ride with me, if I had to make an appointment and go to the clinic over in Bill-Paying Town. Farmer H, who usually drives me, would be busy working on Cheap House. Which he hadn't done on Monday or Tuesday, having been ON ANOTHER JOB FOR HIS MONEY, putting in electricity for some random guy.

I gave The Pony a wake-up call at 7:15. Said I planned to wait until the pharmacy opened at 9:00, to call and see if by some miracle a prescription had been sent for me on Tuesday evening. I said I'd be calling the clinic if not, and trying to get an appointment. I should know by 9:30 what I was going to do.

Then I went to wash dishes as usual. I heard my phone make an incoming noise at 7:29. Hmm... I wonder that that could be. Don't you?

I Guess I'll Survive (Part 2)

I was back home from my NP appointment Thursday afternoon, waiting for a text that my prescriptions were ready before I went back to town. The text came in 1:53. It said that ONE prescription was ready. Well. That would not do. I was supposed to have two. Sometimes that automated system makes a mistake, and sometimes they are waiting for a drug to come in the next day. So I called before I left for town at 3:30 to be sure, before parking T-Hoe in line at the drive-thru of my pharmacy.

The lady said there was only one prescription, the levothyroxine. That they could not fill the Toprol XL 25mg. First she said because it was too soon, since I'd just gotten a refill on the Toprol XL two weeks ago. Yes. But I pointed out that was the 50mg, and my NP had changed the prescription to 25mg. That it was a DIFFERENT prescription, and that such a drug can't be cut in half. 

THEN she said they couldn't get Toprol at all. In any strength. They couldn't get it from their supplier. I said that was odd, because I'd gotten it from them for many years, and in fact, I'd gotten it ONLY TWO WEEKS AGO. Still, she said it was not available. I said I would call my doctor (NP) and see what to do. That I'd wait to come later for my levothyroxine.

By this time, I needed to get to town, because Farmer H would be getting home and want supper. Besides, it would be hard to get a response from the clinic in that short time period, since they close at 5:00. I decided I'd call them first thing on Friday morning.

FRIDAY

I called the clinic at 8:15. I got a very pleasant gal who listened to my tale, and said she'd check with my NP, and call me back. That call came at 3:53, when I'd just gotten back from town. She said that NP suggested I try another pharmacy, so I said Farmer H's pharmacy, which is also in town. She said they'd send it there, but they would need to know if I couldn't get it, and they would be leaving at 5:00. I told her I didn't think I would be going back to town, so I wouldn't know, but that I'd call Monday if I couldn't get it.

Farmer H said they were open until 6:00, so I tried to call, but of course could only get a recording asking for my prescription number (which of course I didn't have) or my phone number (which of course they didn't have a record of, because it's not my pharmacy). The recording kept saying they didn't have that phone number. And cutting me off. No option to talk to a person.

Farmer H said he'd send a text to his woman there! He has her phone number. He asked if they could fill a Toprol XL prescription for me. His woman didn't see the text until after 8:00, and sent him a response the next morning that she didn't know, because she was home.

SATURDAY

I planned to go by Farmer H's pharmacy to see if they had my prescription for Toprol XL 25mg. Since I'd rather not stand in line inside, or deal with it through glass at the drive-thru, I tried calling again. When that recording kept asking for the prescription number and phone number, I said I didn't have the number. And it gave me a REAL PERSON at the local store!

She was quite gruff, but very nice. Kind of like my grandma. Polite, but no-nonsense. She said that yes, they had a prescription sent in for me, but that they don't carry Toprol. That it would have to be filled off-site. And that if I couldn't get it at my pharmacy, it was probably due to a manufacturer hold, and no one would be able to get it. She said if I found somebody to fill it, she would gladly transfer my prescription there. 

THEN I drove over to MY pharmacy, to ask if they had the generic version, the metoprolol XL 25mg. I figured there was no reason to ask my NP to try that if they didn't have the generic, either. In that case he'd have to prescribe something else. 

Such a simple question to ask, yet I was drawn into a "Who's On First?" routine at the drive-thru window. An old gal gave me my levothyroxine. In the routine manner, she asked if I had any questions for the pharmacist as she was ringing it up.

"Yes. But it's about my other prescription. I'll ask when we get done with this."

Old Gal asked me twice more if I had any questions for the pharmacist. YES! I asked, "Do you have the generic, metoprolol extended-release in 25mg?" She said, "That's the generic." YES! She turned to ask the pharmacist, whom I could see a few feet away behind the tall counter.

[I must add here that I use this pharmacy because the pharmacist was an older brother of two of my students. He's such a nice guy. When I was released from my Unfortunate HospitVALzation, he drove across town to get the rest of a prescription I needed that they didn't have enough of. But I haven't seen him at the pharmacy for several weeks now. I don't know if it's the hours, or if he moved on.

Anyhoo... THIS pharmacist was a hateful witchy woman who acted like she had her broomstick rammed up her rumpus. So cranky. I've heard her talking in there before, through the drive-thru.]

Witchy Pharmacist said she hadn't heard a thing. So Old Gal repeated my question. Witchy Pharmacist started ranting that they CAN'T GET TOPROL. That my doctor had called to question her about it on Friday. And that the last she heard, I was supposed to call my doctor. She ranted a bit more, but never answered whether they have the generic, metoprolol XL 25mg. I kept trying to explain again to Old Gal. Who kept repeating that Toprol is the brand name.

"I KNOW THAT! All I want to know is: Do you have metoprolol XL 25mg?"

Old Gal asked Witchy Pharmacist. Who huffed that yes, they have metoprolol XL 25mg. But added that I would need to call my doctor. Well, of course I would. On Monday, when his office was open. It's not like I was expecting her to hand me a prescription for the metoprolol right then and there. I just wanted to know if they had it, before I called NP. 

As you can see, this quest to pick up my medicine was not going well. But there's more...

I Guess I'll Survive (Part 1)

Time for me to be the star of this show again! Farmer H will just have to heal and stop doing dramatic things. I had my own doctor NP appointment on Thursday. It was a follow-up for after I completed the therapy for lymphedema. After all that, NP didn't even want to look at my legs!

I had asked the nurse if she thought he might want to see them. You know, that's the point of the visit. She said she didn't know, but that I should probably wait and see when he came in. No need to take off my leg wraps in case he didn't need to look. She said she could tell, even from looking at my wrapped, pants-clad legs, how much they had changed. She said they looked great.

My other issue was to talk to NP about my blood pressure medication. I told him first thing that I had been having dizzy spells, and that I had stopped taking the 10 mg lisinopril. NP said, "That's probably why you're dizzy!" I don't think he meant it as a joke. But I DID explain that first I had cut it in half for two weeks, and the dizziness was not as frequent. And that I had been off it completely for a month, and the dizziness was better than when I took a half. Also, that I'd been taking my blood pressure in the evening, and it was 120/60 most evenings. Once it had been 118/58. And that the previous evening, it was 125/62. Also, that I had lost 30 pounds (intentionally) since my last appointment. And I was wondering if my other med needed to be adjusted.

Here's where it all goes to Not-Heaven! I explained that I did not mess with my Toprol XL 50 mg pill. I know you can't just stop taking a beta blocker. And I also know that I shouldn't cut it in half, because that would negate the extended-release feature that the XL stands for. NP agreed. He said he was going to change my prescription to Toprol XL 25 mg. And check my TSH levels for my thyroid, to make sure I wasn't being "overserved" with my levothyroxine 150 MCG. (Which turned out to be fine, with my blood results in the normal range.)

I left with an order for bloodwork. My next appointment was already scheduled for December. I met up with Farmer H in the waiting room, and we waited for my turn. The phlebotomist was a really nice gal who was in and out in less time than it took me to walk back to her cubicle. And completely painless!

We left with Farmer H having time to get to the Senior Center for lunch (meatloaf). All I had to do was wait for a text from my pharmacy that my levothyroxine and Toprol XL were ready. 

The Universe laughed...

If It's Not One Thing, It's The Farmer

I have been worried all week about Farmer H. You may recall that his surgery was on August 13th. On Monday, August 24th, he declared upon arising that he couldn't take it anymore, and he was calling his urologist as soon as the office opened. He says he can't pee, and that his belly hurts, and he thinks he has an infection, or something is wrong.

"I really hope I have an infection. Because they can just give me pills for that."

The office told him the urologist was in surgery all day (this is not the guy who did Farmer H's surgery), but that the nurse practitioner could work him in at 1:30. He drove himself up there, even though I volunteered The Pony. Who did not know until later that Farmer H was having problems.

Anyhoo... here's the story I got from the Farmer's mouth:

"I peed before I left here, and as soon as I got there. They called me right in at 1:15. The NP said she wanted to test my bladder to see how completely it empties. She said there was four ounces in there. I told her there shouldn't be! Because I just peed. But she said four ounces isn't that big a deal. I'm still getting rid of the urine. But they don't want it to keep sitting there and get stagnant, so I need to drink at least 64 ounces of water a day. Which I've been doing, I think.

"Told her it burns when I pee, and I cain't hardly go at all if I'm sitting down. She wouldn't give me an antibiotic. She said the rapid test didn't show any infection. And they send the other one off, and it will take 3-4 days for the results. The doctor wouldn't want to have to change treatment, depending on the results. She said to get some over-the-counter cranberry pills. And she gave me three more days of them pills that make my pee orange, to take away the pain when I pee.

She didn't seem worried that it was anything wrong."

All week Farmer H continued to pee often but not a lot each time. At least it was coming out. I think he's trying to rush his recovery. When he looks it up on Dr. Google, it describes his symptoms. And says most people return to normal withing 3-6 MONTHS. While others may take 12-18 MONTHS!!! 

I feel bad for Farmer H. I guess he's just going to have to learn to be more patient about his recovery. One of his buddies had this surgery, and said it's the best thing that every happened to him. That his wife used to complain about him getting up so many times in the night. But now she complains that he pees too loud when he gets up.

I'm afraid this surgery has not been the miracle cure that Farmer H was expecting...