Wednesday, July 7, 2021

One Day, One or Two Jobs.

 

One Day, One or Two Jobs.

 

If even one more thing were on my plate tonight, it would just have to go without getting any attention whatsoever. So, two things that were worth the time: found a twenty-dollar bill in the dryer. It was mine, but still. The second thing was a little one-sided storm that soaked this entire hill briefly. The deck was running water by the time of my return this morning. One of the vet techs at Western Hills said that she truly expected to get soaked on her way back to work at lunch time only to find that nary a drop had fallen on Cypress Street! My yard is squishy wet, the dogs’ coats were wet, and the rug on the deck was totally soaked. That pretty well means that our blessing of the day was about a half inch to an inch of rain. Don’t feel well enough to walk down to check the gauge, so will just have to guesstimate the amount. Not that it matters. Wet is good.

 

Went to where the PT will be taking place and managed to nearly fall on my face trying to get back onto a curb. If one more thing had slipped up on that bumper, yours truly would have had a nice bump on my head. Will be more careful to park somewhere there is no curb. That was scary. But it was close to the front door, so walking was not so bad. Hardly worth the short walk, however.

 

Have no idea when the next scan will be scheduled, but apparently Dr. Kern wants to cover all his bases. Really think he is a good, conservative doctor. He wants a full body scan this next time. Thinking a little white pill to keep me from going bonkers from claustrophobia might be useful. Can hardly stand to have anything over my head. Silly ol’ woman!

 

Both dogs have basically stopped scratching. SO relieved for them. Poor Thompson still has to take some steroids for a few days, but we can handle that. Found out that Benadryl does nothing for dogs—well, might make them sleepy. Oh, and the vet and the techs took Sylvia to a separate room to clip her nails. She wailed as if she were being tortured. Thompson wailed and carried on to let everyone know not to hurt his sister. It is amazing to me how much these two dogs love each other! They lay down together on the cold floor, and Sylvia put her head down on Thompson’s back. They really do act like siblings—the kind that love each other.

 

My sweet Reece is still ill, or was earlier today. Not sure what is going around, but definitely do not want any of it. Being exhausted and having more pain than Carter had little liver pills is one thing, but tossing one’s cookies is a bit much. Frances said that she was still sick, too. Hope this is going to stop soon and before everyone and his kid sister gets it. Staying at home and away from folks sounds like a pretty good idea to me.

 

The tee-shirt worn today said, “I get my cardio chasing chickens.” Michelle will be happy to know that it was a big hit in three different doctors’ offices. The vet wanted to know about the hens and the eggs, so maybe one day when my circuit of running to PT, scans, or whatever will take me by there, a dozen eggs might just have to be left for her.

 

Thinking that a short lie down might make a person feel just a bit better. Getting old is not for sissies. Don’t know how my grandmothers did it! Great-grandmothers were all busy women at this age! Amazing!

 

Let us pray for those who mourn tonight and for those in the path of storms, fires, floods, or other disasters. We know we are in His hands, but it never hurts to ask for His guidance and protection. Rest well, my friends, and know: you are loved.

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