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Archive for March, 2009

Gosh, things are going along swimmingly without insurance, and then you get insurance, go to the doctor and have one great thing after another. 

First, was a pain in my foot at night; not when I walked on it either, just at night.  I go to the doctor, he sends me to a specialist. 

Now, there is a whole other topic.  I love my General Practioner.  He is a great guy and I would not want to eliminate his job, but just why do I need to go to a GP, for a pain in my foot, to be told to go to a podiatrist?  I mean, my foot hurt so couldn’t I just call the podiatrist and say, “my foot hurts.”

Well, as it turns out, the answer to that is no.  Because when I do get to him, he tells me that the pain is most likely actually coming from my back.  Probably an issue I have had since I was two and thrown under the dash.  I do like to blame everything on that one accident but it is a good possibility. 

So, until I can get to a back doctor, I was also informed that I have to buy Butt Ugly running shoes.  Now, he did not specify that they be butt ugly, it just turns out that they are.  I have to admit, they do feel good.

butt-ugly-running-shoes-jpg

And, while we are on health, I did not appreciate being stung by a wasp, on the tip of my finger this morning.   Makes it tough to type.

swollen-finger-jpg

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When husband had orthopedic surgery under a local anesthetic, he told the doctor that he did not want to hear the words, “Oh, sh_t.”  He did not hear those words, but several times he heard, muttering and other words; as the doctor discovered he was trying to save a finger that was beyond repair.

 

Words that I do not want to hear, as I am getting a dexiscan the other day, were, “Does your left hip hurt a lot?”

 

Okay, those are loaded words.  There is obviously a reason causing my hip to hurt, or why would she ask?  Yet, here I sit, still not having heard from the doctor as to why my hip would hurt. 

 

I just love modern medicine.  Schedule doctor’s visit, wait. Go to doctor, wait. See doctor, wait.  Order a test, wait.  Get the test and wait. 

 

Now, it is Thursday, two weeks since I wrote the above and I have the report in my hot little hand.  I have Osteopenia.  Since I knew I had Osteopenia like ten years ago, this is nothing new.  But, I guess it’s good to know just why you hurt. 

By the way, Osteopenia is like the middle step between having good strong bones and having Osteoporosis.  It is also why I take lots of Calcium, drink lots of milk (like I need an excuse for that) and lift weights three days a week and do the treadmill three other days of the week.

 

Treadmill day, see you later.

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For many years, probably most of her life, mom has been on a search for the “perfect” stuff.  She loves stuff and is a salesman’s dream come true.  Show her an advertisement for a new sandwich at a restaurant, or new snack food, or new Foreman cooker, or any other new thing and mom is in line to get it.

 

And, whether she is looking for curtains, or sheets, or walkers or George Foreman grills, mom wants what she wants and it better be right.  Workers at Customer Service desks all over the city cringe when she walks in the store.  They know she has taken home their best, found it wanting and is back to return it.

 

Although, she does not always return it because sometimes she takes too long to decide, or it is just not worth the effort and she gives it to members of the family.  When my kids were young, I rarely left her house without an arm load of goodies and neither does anyone else.

 

Now, I do understand her wanting the “perfect” of something. I mean, why spend your hard earned money on less?  But, mom is very particular on what she wants, and sometimes you just have to accept that they do not make it in that “color/style/fabric/size or quality.”

 

I am afraid she is on a quest for the perfect whatever that does not exist.

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Recently, okay, not that long ago but in my mind it is well ‘lucid’ (which my relatives often say I am not.).   I bet the punctuation is way off in that sentence.  Please excuse me, my unknown future and wonderful agent.  Anyway, I remembered this post from Lucid Dreaming for Slackers ? Cranky Fitness.

 

 

I have very vibrant dreams, and occasionally hallucinations.  Last night Irritating little Chihuahua woke me up and, instead of her, I saw a black “other animal” (I said the dreams were vivid not the memory) sitting up and begging against the back of the couch.  He was a lot larger than the Chihuahua, who was by this time on the floor.  I gotta lay off the Melatonin.

 

 

We were having dinner with JRock’s girlfriend’s parents Saturday night and she had the DVD of Twilight. I’ll get to the point, in a minute.  You know that scene where she wakes up and the vampire guy is in her room and she blinks and he isn’t.  Like he wasn’t ever in her room, but he really was there all along?  Well, that is my life. 

 

 

It is my night actually.  Sometimes, a swift image of a person is there. At times, I wake up and see clumps of black things dancing around near the ceiling.   I am sure it is some medicine I am on, perhaps combined with Melatonin.  It really doesn’t scare me any, so I haven’t bothered reading the inserts to see what is doing it.  Remember, this is the woman who found a rare earthquake great fun. 

 

 

I did try the Lucid dreaming note taking for a few days but it takes time and I have enough to do right now.  My former violin teacher had dream diaries that covered years.  He swore by the method.  He said he had great control of his dreams and could direct them.  My goal would have been to be able to control some dreams, like to be able to fly more often in dreams.  That is cool when it happens! 

 

It would also be neat to control who is in my dreams.

 

So, what I want to know—my burning question is: 

 

Why do I keep dreaming about Nicholas Cage rather than Viggo Mortensen.  If I have to have a vivid dream guy dream, I want it to be Viggo.

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 silverware

No, this is not a picture of my new diet plate.  The food pictured is for Irritating Little Chihuahua.

She is feeling a bit better this morning.  I think that waking me up repeatedly during the night was good for her appetite.  She wants to eat but she is afraid of silverware. She does not want one anywhere near her, or her food.

The other day, husband went to put some chicken in her bowl and held a butter knife in one hand. Chihuahua jumped back so far, I thought she was going to fall down the stairs.

If I offer her my leftover oatmeal, yes she loves it, and use a spoon to scrape it into the bowl, she stays back three feet. If I use my hand to scrape it, she is right there in the way.

Somewhere in another life, she must have been terrorized by fork tines.

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I am so tired of the snow and winter and having such a time trying to find anything worthwhile to post, that I thought a change of banner was in order. Trusty camera and Irritating little Chihuahua and I went out to capture the newly opened daffodils on film. I do wonder what has happened to the grape hyacinth. I thought they always came up first. But, alas, they are nowhere to be seen.

First, I should say that Irritating little Chihuahua slept in her own bed last night. All night. She did wake me twice to let her out, but I feel like a mother whose child is finally sleeping in her own bed, rather than on my stomach. Which, is too nicely soft and padded. I have lost eleven (count them) 11 pounds, so perhaps my stomach is not as padded as it was. I will also not post here how many pounds to go.

Chihuahua is not feeling too well this morning. She refuses to eat anything: her favorite Milk Bone original little pillow like, marrow, treats; the remains of my oatmeal with Brummels and Brown butter on it (which she loves); a peanut (which I am not sure she should even have but which she acted offended to have dropped by her, while she normally would have gobbled it down before anyone could retrieve it). So, she was not particularly cooperative about modeling for the camera (she never is). I thought, how cute to have a picture of the dog sniffing the daffodils; given that she would have to raise her head up to sniff them.

This is the best I got and you can be happy it is so small because at normal size, it is blurry enough to turn your stomach.

daffodils-skeeter

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Yesterday’s blog was supposed to be about Margaret and Helen‘s post “We Have A Dream.”  However, it may have been the biggest digression on record. So, I shall try to stay on-track today.

 

 

Their blog is a list of ideas that they think everyone can get behind.  Well, maybe if you throw out the extremes of both parties and definitely take Rush Limbaugh’s cookies away from him. 

 

 

I am not going to copy their list here, and if you have not read their blog, you are really missing out on a great time.  I just want to add some points of my own.

 

 

Helen wants a good, inexpensive health care system.  Margaret wants vision care included.  I want to add dental.  Since when, does the fact that you need dental work, NOT impact the rest of your health?

 

 

And, while they are at it, I want it to be run by workers and bosses who are intelligent people.  I have been fighting since January with my Healthy Indiana Insurance because they think I still have a tiny AARP policy that was terminated 12/31/07.  So they have decided they are kicking me off and I will have no more insurance in April.  I’m working on it folks.  That, and everything else.

 

Margaret and Helen say that no child should go hungry and without insurance.  I say, Amen to that.  With husband’s disability income, we have cut down on extras (and, I wish we could cut down on the DirecTv bill but we have another year and a half to go on a contract), but we do not have insurance for the 17 year old. 

 

 

Their blog covers tax on cigarettes, where Larry King belongs, religion and politics and the fact that when you call an American company, they want to speak to an American.  I think the point is also that if you are going to call a help desk, you should get someone who is fluent in your language, no matter where they are sitting. 

 

 

Now, that may not be good for the economy but let’s face it, there are very few “Just American” or any other country companies now.  It’s a global world.  Just please screen your staff to make sure you can understand them when you are not reading their lips.  I have called and not understood people who I am pretty sure are speaking English.

 

 

There is a lot else on their blog.  Some, I kind of agree with, some I totally agree with, but it is a good discussion.  I would love to be invited to Helen’s house for Thanksgiving some day.  I promise to clean my plate, not drink soda (I like water and iced tea better anyway), throw in a few dollars, carry out my trash, and not to bring pie.

By the way, Helen is admitting to being near 83 now and believe me, that lady has it all together. 

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As you all know (What?  You don’t?  Well, you should.)  I just love Margaret and Helen.  Their “Tell it like it is, with humor.” blog got me through the election.  And, when my life here at home gets a bit tough, like getting a $1,200 power bill or, like yesterday, when I opened the one piece of mail, late at night (Tell, me why I even bother?) and that mail was from the Indiana Department of Revenue.

 

 

When I opened my studio I got a tax idea and somehow, thought I needed to have a Taxpayer TID number for paying employees.  I do not have employees.  The studio is so piled up with junk right now that an employee couldn’t get through IF I had one, which I don’t.

 

 

So, this year when I sent in my multitude of forms, which I never quite have understood, I decided that enough was enough.  I had already closed the studio to public view, taken down my sign, pulled my rack cards from town and alerted my Township Tax accessor that I was not working right now so I was “sort-of” closing the studio.

 

 

Okay, I can see where the “sort-of” confused them.  But, I unequivocally put in there that I had no employees, I had no State and County taxes withheld on my non-existent employees and I really want them to stop sending me the forms which confuse the %$@$ out of me.  Husband said they are drawn up by lawyers who are wanting to get the work when you cannot understand the forms. 

 

 

So, last night, I get this envelope informing me that I now owe $5,410.00 plus $541.00 in Penalty and $90.27 in interest for the taxes on employees I do not have. 

 

 

You know, this mail thing started with a $500 DirecTv bill and has gone up steadily ever since and I really need to learn not to open mail except during business hours because I do not get enough sleep already and having it run through my head all night, what kind of fight I am going to have in the morning, is not helping.

 

 

The man on the phone this morning was very nice.  I told him I want to keep my Sales Tax ID and my checking account because I have dreams of working again and he said to fill out this form BC-100, have it notarized and send it in.

 

 

“Okay, then what do I do about this $6,041.27 bill?”

 

 

“Oh, just write a letter of protest and tell them you do not have employees.” 

 

 

“But, where did they get that figure from?  Why charge me?”

 

 

“That was just because you did not send the right form in.”

 

 

That sound you hear is me banging my head against my desk. 

 

 

There again, I see little bored people, in cubicles, saying, “Hey, Mildred, wanna have some fun?”

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Today, I have a bruise.  No, that is not a joy of aging, that is a natural result of being clumsy, and it is an integral part of our story for today. 

 

Before my mother moved into an apartment, she stayed with us in our finished walk-out downstairs.  I don’t like to admit my mother lived in the basement, so I say downstairs.  It sounds cruel.  However, the first family (no, not the Obamas) the family who built on this property, lived in that basement, as a house the whole time they lived here.  It wasn’t until they sold the property, that the next owner built an upstairs to the finished walk-out basement. 

 

While mom was living here, she had her dog (Irritating Little Chihuahua) with her.  Chihuahua weighed about eight pounds at that time and is definitely a lap dog.  She would rather walk on your legs and lap than on the floor.  Now, mom’s skin is getting thin and she is very sensitive to touch and I would constantly hear mom yelling at Chihuahua about stepping on her legs and hurting her.

When mom moved to her apartment, she decided it was best to leave Chihuahua here.

 

Lesson for today:  

Do not judge another person’s pain until you have walked a mile in their shoes.  Or, in this case, had a 7.2 lb Irritating little Chihuahua walk on your bruises.   

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I hate telephones. Good news is never delivered by telephone. It’s always bad news. Car wrecks in the middle of the night. Your kid did something at school that requires your attendance. And, when someone doesn’t have the guts to face you, they deliver their news by telephone.

Nineteen year old EMT has been coming home less and less. He is, sort-of, an adult at nineteen, even though he has not finished high school. He started late, due to home schooling, so he is set to graduate this May. Now, with less than three months of school to go, he announced, over the phone of course, that he is moving out.

Is he going to move in with a friend and party all weekend? No! Does he have his own pad where he can play loud music and drink all the energy drinks he wants? No! What he has is a family who lives near the Fire Department.

Okay, I know, I should be happy about this. It’s not drugs or alcohol, although I do think he is smoking again. Part of his reasoning is that he will be closer to the action, to respond to calls, and I am pretty sure the other part of his reason is a girl.

Yes, I know, the kid has a job now, and he is almost twenty. But, I would have been a lot happier if he would have waited until graduation. 

I would have been even happier if he would have delivered his news in person, and not over the telephone.

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