MY BEST FRIEND HATES ME

 Well, not really but every time I do laundry it sure makes me think she hates me.  

I shall not name names but her sister Carol knows exactly who I am talking about.  

I have several "Best Friends" but this particular one is my oldest BFF.  We met many, many years ago when she and her family moved into a house across the street from me.  Her first child was about three when they moved in and she and I would soon be pregnant at the same time.  She saved me many times from panic and the attempt of giving my new child away.   I had NO idea what to do as a mother but here I had this experienced, patient angel living right across the street.  

I can also call her my "OLDEST" best friend because although we were bot born the same month in the same year she is 16 days older than me.  Today is the last day I can officially tell her she is a year older than me because tomorrow is my birthday and we will once again be the same age. We have been friends since the moment we met so it breaks my heart that she would be so cruel to me. 

Two years ago at Christmas this wonderful friend sent me a gift that, to this day, makes me think of her each time I use it.  The thoughts are not nice thoughts because she is evil !   How could someone I love send this gift to me?  She knows I'm one banana peal from the loony bin and yet she thought this gift would be a good idea.  It's a wonder it is still being sold. I see it in the stores often and when ever I see some one picking it up I warn them of its demonic nature.  

The gift I received two years ago from my alleged best friend was a cute little cloth bag containing SIX (6) fluffy, semi hard white balls the size of a softball.   They are advertised as LAUNDRY balls that when added to your wet wash each time you put things into the dryer they  "SUPPOSEDLY"  will "fluff" your wash and help things to dry more evenly.  I will be honest,  they actually do work.               BUT . . .  They also like to hide inside your laundry.  I find them inside the pockets of my slacks.  They like to crawl up into the sleeves of my blouses.  Forget when I wash my bed sheets.  The flat sheet usually has one or two tangled up with it but the fitted sheet . . .   That is a whole other story.  

Today was sheet washing day.  Knowing what I am in for I put the fitted sheet into the dryer all by itself. When the dryer finished I opened the door to find just the sheet.  NO dryer balls at all.  My first thought was that they had disintegrated and would no longer make me nuts. But as I pulled the sheet out of the dryer the balls started popping out all over the place.  One rolled into the living room,  one rolled across the kitchen floor as it trying to make a break for the door. One even rolled into the bathroom which is around aa corner from the dryer.   But that only accounted for THREE (3) of these sneaky little monsters.  

Now I KNOW that I have six (6) dryer balls.  I have accounted for three (3). Doing the advanced math I now know that three (3) are still unaccounted for.  And I know where I will find them.   I took the sheet into the bedroom and spread it out and VOILA !!!!!  TWO (2) sneaky little bastards pop out of the fitted corners of the sheet. But one is still missing. HUM ?   I fluff the sheet out, No ball ! I retrace my steps back to the dryer and check inside.  No ball !  It's not in the living room, nor is it under the bed. Where in holy hell is it?   I smooth out the sheet on the bed convinced I will find the lump of a little white dryer ball.  Nope !     I am totally puzzled but decide I really want to get this bed made so I can jump into it. So I go get the now dry top sheet, fluff it up and put it on the bed.  Looking good but the mystery remains.  Until I put the pillows back on the bed and one of the pillows keeps falling over.  What the heck?   The stupid dryer ball is stuck under the bottom sheet way up at the top of the bed wedged down between the mattress and the wall.   Now I have to crawl across the bed right to the middle where I have to wrestle with the bottom sheet to recover the missing ball.

I am now totally exhausted and I know for sure my very best and oldest friend is really an evil fiend put into my life to make me crazier than I am.   

Oh, you ask why I don't stop using these silly things in my dryer?   Well, they actually do work and if I got rid of them there would be no fun in doing laundry 

Thanks Sharon,  I'll get you for this !!!

R.I.P. VACUUM

 Yesterday I found myself in tears because my vacuum is broken.  How silly is that !!!!!

But then I got to thinking that it is NOT about the vacuum. What it is about is my life right now.  I am feeling broken and tossed in the trash bin, just like my lovely vacuum. The vacuum was just the straw that broke the camels back or the incident that shattered my mind into a zillion dust bunnies. Like the dust bunnies I would like to spend my days this week/month/year hiding under my bed.

The quick list of straws on my back is this.  The Man's health is failing quickly now.  He will return to MI the end of this week when his son flies down from AK to drive The Man back to his home in MI. He will not return to Florida again.  Can he manage to live alone in his house on the farm ?   I doubt it but that is what he wants to do and I totally get it.   I am not going up to the farm this summer because I will be having open heart surgery some time soon. (I see the cardiac surgeon today.  I was born with a funky bi cuspid valve that is not happy after these past 80 years so it needs fixing.   Another blog in the making for sure.).     Then we have Cousin LuLu who is now having health issues. (She is only 94). She has been in the hospital for a week and calls every day to ask when I'm coming to visit.  Her kidneys are failing, she is loopier than normal and she looks so tiny and frail.  When I was there the other day I just sat with her holding her hand while she asked me why God is doing this to her.   I could have gotten into a deep, (well as deep as I can get) philosophical discussion or I could have told her she WAS 94 . . .  What do you expect !!!!!!  But I bit my tongue which is shredded by now.  

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.   I just hope it's not THE LIGHT !!!!  I'm not ready to "Go To The Light"  quite yet.  I have more adventures to take.  The Man is leaving here on Saturday.  I will be dancing through the house as the car pulls out of the parking lot.   Don't get me wrong.  I love this guy. He is kind, sweet and caring but he is A MAN !!!!  And you know my thoughts on that subject !  The whole scooter debacle is making it much easier to say good bye before I kill him.  Because of his failing health and my heart issues I can't do all that I normally do for him and he can't do much for himself.  (Thankfully personal hygiene is still up to him.) This limited living situation has brought aides into our home twice a week for 3 hours a day.   Now before you say, "Oh, isn't that wonderful" let me tell you about home health aides provided by the VA.  These good folks are not doing this job to get rich and they certainly don't have a degree in Astro Physics, (or possibly even 8th grade).  It is one of them who destroyed my vacuum by ripping off the filter instead of just opening it. They never said anything to us so I didn't discover it until I went to use it.  Then we had the woman who apparently has never made a bed.  I had washed the sheets and The Man asked her to put the sheets on the bed.   She put the top flat sheet on the bottom and the fitted bottom sheet was put over that.   (That's how I know they don't have a degree in Astro Physics.).  They empty the dish washer and put the forks in with the spoons and dishes in with the pots.  It is a game of hide and seek every time.     I can not wait for this week to end !  Here's why . . . 

1. No more man asking me to put lotion on his legs. (Come on !  You CAN do it yourself !

2. No more watching TV shows about Cops, Cowboys, Soldiers or sports. No more hockey, basket ball, football or golf.

3. No more having to plan, shop and prepare dinners.  I probably will eat one meal a day. And while we are speaking about food . . . NO MORE Swedish meatballs, potato sausage, pasties or halibut. 

4. No more staying up until midnight watching TV because someone isn't tired because he took a 3 hour nap that afternoon.   

5. No more living in a house that is hot enough to qualify as a sauna.  

6.  I will eat my meal(s) OUTSIDE !!!   And then when I get too warm I can go inside where the temperature will be cold enough to freeze a side of beef.

7. I can put the wheel chair into the shed instead of the middle of the living room. 

8. I can clean out the freezer of all 12 gallons of ice cream that we had for The Man.

9. I can go out with friends and not have to worry about getting home in time to cook dinner.  

I am looking forward to this new life. Even if it is only for a few months.  I hopefully will be recharged with a heart that's working properly and a lot of QUIET TIME not taking care of other people.  I have my list of shows and movies that I want to watch. Life will be good. 

 I"m thinking that no matter what happens with this open heart surgery I WILL BE IN HEAVEN !!!!!

BUBMLEDOOR AND THE BATTERY

 If Harry Potter were a car mechanic he would probably have put a disappearing spell on The Man when he came to charge the battery on The Man's car.  As it was I could see the mechanics frustration as he was working under the hood and The Man was standing RIGHT on top of him.  If I had a magic wand I would have used it !   POOF !!  Good-bye mister annoying.   Once again I got to experience the lack of workings of the male mind.

About a month ago The Man got into his car and it would not start.  Because I have a Triple A membership I get to call for roadside service, even though it is not my car. About an hour later Pete's Roadside Service arrived. The mechanic, who was not Pete, opened up the hood, looked inside and said, "You need a new battery".  To which The Man replied, "No I don't. Just charge it up and it will be fine." How The Man knows this is beyond me but it is his car so he makes the decision.  The mechanic looked at me, I shrugged and he charged up the old battery.  The Man's car is a 2019. The battery in it is the original one that came with the car.  Batteries are only supposed to last 4-5 years.  You do the math.  

But as always,  The Man knows best !

From the time that the battery was charged by a mechanic, not named Pete, to today the car has only been driven ONCE.  Between that one ride that we took to West Palm Beach the car has not moved from its parking spot.  (The Man is not driving because he can't walk the distance from the condo to the parking lot. If he had a scooter he would be able to get out there and take a ride but don't get me started on that. Just read my previous blog.

It was then that I was given the job of going out every so often when The Man thought about it to start the car.  His "orders" were to just turn the motor on and let it run for a few minutes while I collected the mail. I took it. upon myself to drive it around the community for 5 minutes or so just to give it a better charge.  Yet even with all this the battery died again.  No surprise there !!!!    

 Today when The Man requested I go out and run his car engine for a few minutes I was not the least bit surprised when all I got was dead silence.  I returned to the condo and informed you know who that his battery was dead.  He was SHOCKED !!!!!  How could that be ?   (I could have told him exactly how that could be but I chose to just remain silent and see where this was going.  As if I didn't know.) The Man continued to mumble under his breath while I called AAA once again.  Help was on the way.     Now I had  to get the new wheelchair out of the shed, (another story for another time), get The Man settled in the chair with his oxygen tank in his lap and push him out to the parking lot where he can supervise Pete's mechanic who's name is Johnny.    I  positioned The Man and wheel chair about 4 feet back from the front of his car because I KNOW he will want to have his head stuck under the hood to make sure Johnny doesn't pull a fast one on him.  Sure enough as soon as the hood of the car goes up . . . The Man is out of his wheelchair and standing two INCHES away from the mechanic.  I am now sitting IN the car because I don't want to be part of this.  The Man is watching every move Johnny makes and when the battery tester reads D E A D !!!  The Man tells Johnny to just jump it and it will be fine.  (Where have I heard that before ?)

I don't know how or what Johnny said to The Man but the next thing I see is a new battery going into the car!!!  (Maybe Johnny had a magic wand?).   As Johnny is leaving he looks at me and grins. I read that to mean, "Good luck Lady, Your man is a pain but I won this one,"   

Unlike the previous battery incident where The Man swore up and down for days after he was NOT paying that kind of money to buy a new battery when this one is just fine . . . I have heard NOTHING! There has been no mention of why he decided to make the purchase now when just a month ago he swore he wouldn't spend his money on something he didn't need.     I say NOTHING !!!

THE SCOOTER

 I am taking a deep breath before I write this blog.   I have put off writing about "The Scooter" because every time I think about it my blood pressure rises about  200 points. Today I have taken my medication with hopes that I can make it through this without having a stroke or killing some one.  (Can you guess who that someone might be?)

Someone who lives in my house with me has been getting weaker and weaker. Some days his breathing is OK and other days he is dragging butt.  When his breathing is bad he can't move from the couch to the kitchen without pausing every other step, Around the house this isn't a problem because the condo is not huge and there are lots of places to sit on the way to the bedroom or kitchen.  BUT when we have to go to the VA to see a doctor the journey becomes almost impossible.  We have changed many  appointments to video chats but there comes a point when a doctor needs to SEE The Man in person.  (It is SO frustrating to make the journey to the VA only to have a doctor make you wait an hour and then not even physically examine you.  Don't you think a pulmonologist appointment would involve at least listening to your lungs??????  Apparently not ! )  

One of the major problems with visiting the VA is having enough oxygen to last the entire trip and visit.  One tank of oxygen only lasts about 2 hours and even less when The Man has to turn up the flow rate because he is exerting himself by getting in and out of vehicles and wheel chairs.  It is also a problem because I am pushing the wheel chair while The Man is rolling the oxygen tank in front of him. It is ridiculous and exhausting for both of us.  We no longer drive ourselves to the VA because it is too much on me hauling the wheelchair in and out of the car, we now use VA transportation.  That is working well. They arrive, wheel him out to a van, strap in the wheel chair with him in it and I get to ride along.   When we get to the VA they get The Man and wheelchair out, push us up to what ever floor our appointment is on.  When the visit is over we call the transport company and they send someone to pick us up.   Unfortunately the last visit we had we ended up waiting 2 hours for our ride.  We had to go back into the building, go up to the 5th floor to get a full oxygen tank because ours had run out.  The VA is very accommodating so that isn't a problem, except for the push back and forth.  The elevators are a real challenge for me as I may have written about previously.

Considering all this I thought it would be a GREAT idea if The Man got a scooter.  The VA will provide an electric wheel chair or a scooter for anyone who qualifies.  THREE years ago I started planting seeds in The Mans head.  I would whisper in his ear, "SCOOTER". I would find articles in magazines and on the internet that talked about different types of vehicles available. Every time we were out and there was a  person zipping along on a scooter I would casually remark " Look at that guy ! He's got a scooter!  WOW!  Look at him go !"   Of course I would finish with, "THAT COULD BE YOU!!!!!"   All my hinting and seed planting were ignored.  I will give The Man credit that he never yelled, "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT SCOOTERS !!!!!!"  He just let it all fall on deaf ears. Until 2 weeks ago.  The Man had a phone call with his VA social worker. He complained about how difficult it is getting around so they suggested he apply for a scooter.  It was like he had NEVER heard this before. The Man got off the phone and said, "You know, I should get a scooter!"    DUH !   What have I been talking about for 3 years ?????   

The social worker set us up with an appointment with the wheelchair clinic and off we went to meet with someone who would access our needs.  The young woman, Kate,  was lovely and very helpful.  She showed us all the things that were available to The Man.  He chose the one he thought would work best for him.  He sat on it, drove it around a bit and the young lady started writing up the order.  It will be delivered to our home in 4-6 weeks.  The VA will build a ramp for it to get into the house.  They will instal a lift in the car that will pick the scooter up and swing it into the back of the van.  We were ALL SET TO GO !!!           NOT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was at this moment that The Man looked at me and said, "WE have to talk".   OH GOD !  NOW WHAT ???       But I knew exactly what the problem was.  We never mentioned to Kate that The Man will be returning to MI in about 6 weeks, probably never to return to FL.  (The trip back and forth has become too much for hm to handle.)   That was my signal to step in and say that The Man was leaving FL to return to MI in about 6 weeks.  Would it be better if we waited until we got to MI to order a scooter from the VA up there?  

OF COURSE IT WOULD BE BETTER TO GET ONE IN MICHIGAN WHERE HE LIVES !!

And so all of our time and energy to get to this meeting was a waste.  Well, I guess not really. At least it gave The Man a chance to find out what was available so that when he gets home he has a starting point.  

Will all this actually happen ???? Who knows.  Guess we have to wait for the next blog.

IT'S ONLY A CARD !

 I am loosing it !!!  It amazes me that I can screw up so many things in the span of ONE DAY 

Yesterday I FINALLY got to go to lunch with 2 friends from NY who are wintering in FL. We have been trying to get together for weeks but still had not found the time when all 3 of us were free. Yesterday was the day and it was LOVELY !!!!  Out door seating on the water, sunny, warm day, good friends and lots of laughs. (None of us were drinking because at our age I do not need a DWI.  And besides, our brains are so rotted at this point we don't need to get drunk to get stupid.)  I am the oldest of this group by 5 & 10 years. I am NOT a roll model for mature women but I am the perfect example of brains gone rotten.  

We met at the restaurant and I proceeded to tell them that our fourth NY buddy, who is still in NY, was celebrating her 80th birthday that day.  We decided to call her but no one was answering.  Then we decided to try face time so she could see us.  Again, no one answered.  (Not answering a phone at our age only means one thing . . .   we are NOT dead on the floor, we just can't find our phone.)  I decided I would try calling her from my car on my trip home but then decided to wait until I got home because I need to completely focus on my driving.  Just before I reached home I received a text message from "The Birthday Girl". I figured she had seen that we had tried to call and was texting to tell me why she didn't answer.  I waited till I got home to read her text.    This is want it said. . .  "HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING?    MY BIRTHDAY IS IN APRIL !"     OMG !!!!!!!  I knew that. We both have April birthdays.  This is only FEBRUARY !!!!!   For days I have been looking at the calendar and saying to myself that I MUST send Sharon a card.  I have no idea why I was thinking that her birthday is this month. 

I AM LOOSING IT !!!

Going back two days I had another incident where I questioned my ability to be a rational, functioning human being.  Tuesday night is trash night. Trash can go out to the trash "bin" after 6 PM. Everyone living on our cul-de-sac brings their trash and recycling out on Tuesday night to be picked up on Wednesday morning.  Garbage must be in tied garbage bags and recycling is sorted into paper in one box and glass and plastic in another box, Everyone has their own recycle boxes to cart out to the street.  I have a wagon just for this purpose.  I loaded up my wagon with the 2 recycling containers and my bag of garbage.  By 6:00 it was still light out so I first pulled my wagon over to the mail box to get my mail.  I had 4 pieces of mail. Three were junk and the fourth was a pink envelope addressed to me with the return sticker from a women I met in Alaska several years ago.  She is an old friend of Dwaynes who we stopped to see on one of our trips through Anchorage.  She was delightful and I really enjoyed meeting her.  We have exchanged Christmas cards over the past several years so it was a bit of a surprise to get a card from her.  I put the 3  pieces of junk mail in my recycle bin and I swear that I. put Ruth's card in my wagon.  From the mailbox I went to the garbage drop area, put down my paper bin, the glass and plastic barrel and my garbage bag.  As I walked back to my condo I realized that the little pink card was not in the wagon.  I turned around and went back to the garbage "bin" where I looked through my paper box to see if I stupidly had put the card in there.  NO CARD!  Then I checked the glass and plastic barrel.  NO CARD IN THERE.  By now it is dark so I brought the wagon back to the house and got a flashlight. Returning to the street I checked my mailbox, (did I put the card back in there?). NO CARD !  I checked the grass and walks, I rechecked the recycle container, NO CARD !!!   It had vanished into thin air !!!!!!!!!!

I returned home and told The Man what had happened and his response was, "IT'S ONLY A CARD !"  

No !!!  . . .  It was a card from a lady that I really liked. And it was a card that appeared out of the blue. (Not for any holiday)  AND it was addressed to ME !!!  This person had sent me a card. There had to have been a reason it was sent to me and not to The Man.  Maybe she died and her husband sent the card. Maybe she wanted to know how The Man was doing but didn't want to upset him by talking to him.  Maybe, Maybe, Maybe ???????????????

This has really got me wondering if I am fit to be a part of the human race.  Maybe I should check myself in at the local Psych ward or memory care facility.  Or MAYBE it is a sign that I can not take much more worrying about everyone else. Maybe I need to erase my brain and just focus on ME.  

But who am I kidding.  That will never happen. I will continue on until I am found wandering along the highway not knowing who or where I am.  Maybe I need to be injected with a chip like they do for dogs and cats.  The question is . . .  DO I REALLY WANT TO BE FOUND !!!!???? 

THE BURNING BUTT

 Lately life around here has been quite interesting.  More so than usual, if that is possible.  The Man has been in and out of the hospital with his COPD and he is in need of a lot more help that he used to be. This is hard on both of us physically and mentally.  He has lost a lot of weight but he is still heavy enough that my old bones can't manage pushing him around in a wheel chair and lifting the chair in and out of the car. (And yet in spite of all this he still insists that he drive!   Good thing my guardian angel is used to taking care of me.) 

But enough about The Man.  All my blogs seem to revolve around him. Which is not that strange because he provides me with endless sources of material. Today I thought it only fair that I share my latest misadventure with you so you will be reminded that, (I know this will be hard to believe), I am NOT perfect !  (I try to keep that fact to myself but every so often I do something so stupid that it's just too good not to share,

It all started with The Man's latest trip to the hospital for 4 days.  We went to the ER by ambulance because neither he nor I was up to the challenge of getting him out of the house, into the car and into the hospital.  (And if you arrive by ambulance you are seen a LOT quicker.)  Once we were in a room in the ER our job was to sit and wait until someone decided if The Man was going to be kept there or sent home.  It takes as myriad of tests and hours of sitting waiting until a decision is made. In this case it only took 6 hours.  Because the ER is such a busy place they frown on visitors walking around outside of the patients room. No problem there, I am a lazy lump who delights in sitting around while The Man sleeps.  Finally he was sent up to a room and I got to go home to an empty house where I promptly got some snacks and planted myself on the couch to catch up on some serious TV time watching something I wanted to watch. Several hours later I got a few hours sleep and then headed up to the hospital where I proceeded to sit on my butt for the next 3 days. By the time The Man was released my back was in pain.  Hauling the wheel chair and The Man did not help matters.  

So now you have the background story . . .   About 3 days ago my back was really sending me distress signals that it was NOT HAPPY !  I made an emergency visit to the chiropractor but even that wasn't enough to quiet down my muscles. Now it was time to take matters into my own hands.  I know the different "twinges" that occur when my back is in crisis and these were the ones that required ice rather than heat.  I dug an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel and stuck it into my underwear where it rode around for the day until it melted.  Having made my back feel better I did the same the following day . . .  with one minor change.   I was in a hurry and didn't wrap the ice pack in a towel, I just went COLD turkey and stuck the damn thing in my underwear and proceeded to sit on the lanai and visit with a friend for an hour or so.  The cold pack felt good sitting and my back felt good also. Later in the day I removed the ice pack that was now melted, stuck it back in the freezer and went to get ready for bed.  

SURPRISE !!!!

I have an 4X6 inch patch of freezer burn on my butt !!!   IT HURTS LIKE HELL !!!!  Frost bite is no joke folks. That patch of skin is as sore as any sunburn I have ever gotten at the beach.  Luckily it is in a place that the world will never see so no one can see what a dumb ass I am.  

The Aloe is working well at calming things down but it will be quite a while before I put another ice pack on my body. 

MORE FUN AND GAMES.

 Some people have fun by jumping out of a plane.  Others might climb onto a raft and race down a raging river.  I just deal with crazy old people to stay entertained each day.  God has placed not one but TWO old folks in my life to entertain me.  I guess taking care of Cousin Lu Lu wasn't enough for me to do penance with, God felt the need to add The Man to my life to fill in the quiet times when Lu Lu isn't driving me nuts.   God was very tricky when he sucked me into sharing my life with The Man.  God gave us several years of travel, cruises and trips to Alaska so that I would get totally immersed in my new life with The Man.  Stupid me fell for it !!  Hook line and sinker.  

Apparently now it is pay back time.  

I firmly believe that God puts us where we are supposed to be. I guess The Man was in need of someone to help him through this COPD adventure. So here I am, once again, sitting in a hospital room staring at my man who is in the hospital bed breathing through a mask that's pumping Oxygen into his lungs.  Funny joke God !

COPD is a crappy way to live.  We go for months/weeks living what's a normal life for us and then WHAM !!!  The Man's breathing goes to shit and we are back in the hospital.  There is nothing I love more than sitting in a hospital room staring at The Man. It'a like going to school . . .   I have to be here but I really do not like it !  But if I am honest maybe I do "enjoy" this just a little?  Being here at the hospital I get to do all the things that I don't usually get to do when I am home.  I can sit and be a lazy lump for the entire day.  I have my computer so I have time to blog.  I get to read the entire newspaper each morning. I have a good book that I don't take enough time to sit and read so now I can read all day while The Man naps or watches TV.  It really isn't such a bad deal.  

Of course there is a down side to all this.  When The Man is sick he gets VERY stubborn.  This is a side of him that I share. Two stubborn people living together can be a disaster.  Usually we do very well together but when he is sick he also gets STUPID !!  Well, now that I think about it he does a LOT of dumb things which is usually what puts him in the hospital.  He doesn't drink enough water.  A quarter of a cup of water a day is NOT enough. If you ask him is he has had a lot of water today he will get pissed and tell you "Of course!"  In his little brain he thinks he is drinking a lot but I know better.  Not drinking gets his kidneys in a tizzy so his feet start to swell. When his feet start to swell it puts pressure on his heart. Add to that his lousy lungs and we have a recipe for disaster.  Not using his breathing machine causes him to retain CO2 in his lungs which then cause his organs to become starved of oxygen and start failing to work properly.  Between the CO2 poisoning and the failing kidneys The Man becomes SO STUBBORN that he won't listen to anyone, (Doctors included) so we end up in the ER where we have to wait for hours and hours. ( I think we are on a first name basis with most of the ER staff. )

Our latest adventure was even more exciting because The Man was so weak we had to call 911 to get the firemen to come take him to the ER.  Luckily I watch enough stupid TV that I know I need to keep a "To Go Bag" for when these emergency trips occur.  (I'm getting so smart) 

We are now situated in a comfy room. The man is enjoying being waited on and I am enjoying not having to wait on him. Except for the twelve thousand things that he needs every two seconds. At 5 or 6 o'clock when I leave here I smile thinking "I'm Free". I wish the nurses "GOOD LUCK" as I merrily skip out to my car.