Nov 122012
 

….with the toaster. Just sayin’. I wanted to be generous and share that tidbit of wisdom with you all. I would hate for you to waste your time (just like I did)  trying to cram a can into the slots on a toaster & figure out why the hell the can won’t open. Let me be the one to tell you – it doesn’t work. Put the toaster up and grab the can opener instead. It will make your day so much brighter.

I met my new primary care doctor today. After a bit of back & forth, he finally figured out that I will not be a passive patient who agrees with every single thing a doctor thinks is best for me. I let him know that I am a PARTNER in my own health care. After a bit of pouting, he came around. Good boy.

My blood pressure is back down to normal ranges with the aide of some Verapamil. Sheesh. More pills. More man made toxic shit to shovel through the orifice otherwise known as my pie-hole mouth. I suppose I should get used to it since it doesn’t seem modern medicine is doing anything more for us other than creating new little combinations of toxic shit (in various colors for our pleasure I’m sure). The thing that scares me the most right now about the state of my healthcare is insurance – I hope that my provider continues to cover the medicines and treatments. I hope that my life (and yours) is valuable enough for the insurance peeps to continue allowing me the toxic shit that seems to make my body work a little more like it’s supposed to. I guess we’ll all find out in a few months, eh?

Oh! I want to take this opportunity to welcome back into my life an old but not forgotten friend… the drunk chicken! He has returned.

Lovely. He showed up Friday night with about 1:34 left in the first quarter of our final football game. I spend my time on the sidelines taking pictures as most of you know. I didn’t get hardly anything of the last game. The old legs just simply quit working. I hobbled my lard ass off the field and over to the field house area where the other coach’s wives/kids hang out during games. I think they were a bit shocked at my chicken walk. They haven’t seen this side of the beast yet so I imagine it was unsettling.. I know it was. Before I got to my destination I had one wife on the left arm, another on the right arm, and a third behind me ready to catch said ass should it head towards the ground. I felt bad… I have tried to explain to some folks about what happens with the weather but I guess hearing the words and seeing the chicken are two completely different things.

Can you believe Thanksgiving is next week? Coach gets a solid 5… count them… 1,2,3,4,5… days off work. We are going to visit my mom for the holiday. I’m really looking forward to it. The thing that’s killing me right now about the holidays… we aren’t to Thanksgiving yet and in the neighborhood next to the tin can community in which we reside there are many homes with Christmas lights glowing. Man o man. Can we get one holiday out of the way first? I don’t understand what this need is to make Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas into one holiday lumped together. There is a bunch of life in between those holidays. And then today I hear that Wal Mart is changing Black Friday to Black Thursday/Friday. We have turned into a society of consumers. The holidays aren’t even holidays anymore. It’s a giant 3 month long shopping spree.

Saturday & Sunday were slow, restful days. Coach was home for most of the weekend… of course, he slept. But that’s okay. 6 months of 14 hour days, 7 days a week would probably tire just about anyone out. I figure he’s going to sleep for the next month before baseball gets started. We watched a butt load of football though. Between college & pro games there certainly is no lack of the sport.

Cool front came in this morning… weeeeee! It’s 71 degrees and overcast right now. The perfect day. Tonight it will drop into the 50’s… and this will be our weather until Wednesday at which time it is projected to shoot right back up to 88 for the high.

And I will leave you with this:

“The trouble with reality is that there is no background music.” –anonymous

Being an adult is like looking both ways before you cross the street and then getting hit by an airplane.

  3 Responses to “You Can’t Open A Can”

  1. It is warming up here and the wobble is back. All of me. Hands. arms and legs join in. They are not co-ordinated though. Sigh. I am sorry to hear about the drunk chicken. I recognise it, and never welcome it myself.
    And I loved you convincing your doctor that when he says jump you are much more likely to say why than to say how high. You rock.
    Hugs.

  2. I’m glad that Coach is home for a full five days, even if he will want to spend it sleeping. He can’t very well do that if you’re travelling, though, can he?
    Sorry to hear about your chicken legs, but am more disconcerted about the cognitive crap that’s happening. That’s some alarming stuff going on in your head! Frustrating for you, I’m sure.

    Be zen about it, for it is what it is.

  3. Only you, Sherri! You crack me up! A drunk chicken — that’s it precisely!! I’m glad you stood up to the PCP. I go one step farther — I think of it as “You work for me!” No real difference between them and plumbers, electricians, cleaning people, and the pool boy. ;-> You pay for a service — they serve you!
    Glad the BP is down — those were scary numbers. I remember taking a decongestant once and my BP shot up sky high. I don’t like taking meds, so I try to do other things first. Glad you’re going home for TG.
    Peace,
    Muff

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