I guess you can tell we're not out partying for New Year's Eve.
I used to call this Amateur Night.
Sometimes I stay up late to watch the Times Square ball drop. Sometimes I don't.
Like on the 4th of July, I'm tempted to be a killjoy on the subject of illegal fireworks and shooting the moon. So I think I'll stay away from all that, for now.
And just wish the world joy, instead.
An end.
New beginnings.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Friday, December 29, 2006
Togetherness
Of course, as we just saw in the article below, it isn't always easy to get along in close quarters.
When you're together by choice instead of incarceration, you have, at least, Options.
Walter needs to get some staples removed. Most of his stitches are the dissolving kind: the classic Open Heart Surgery railroad track up his chest; the slash on his left shoulder where his pacemaker now sits; the three long horrible inflamed sections on his legs where they took veins to use in his heart bypasses. He had two chest tubes in below his sternum, with one big old cloth stitch each. They yielded to my home surgical scissors with gratifying ease.
That leaves the unusually large gash where they put the heart catheter in his femoral artery.
His new local cardiac doc was quite puzzled at that one. It's generally just a little hole. Walter's is two inches long and held together with six nasty staples.
They did NOT yield to my pliers.
Not without a big old loud yelp from Walter, anyway.
So, I've been gently pummeling him to go get them out ever since.
We didn't want to go back to the primary who took over from my old doc. He gave Walter a thorough physical, pronouncing him in excellent health, a few weeks before he almost died from massive coronary artery disease.
I haven't been too happy with him either.
So apparently, unless your family doc is able and willing, you can't get just anyone to take out your stitches and staples these days. This complicated procedure requires an emergency room or a walk-in urgent care facility.
Since Walter's been wearing himself out sleeping and trying to eat healthy foods, and k's been wearing herself out rocking Walter to sleep and buying and cooking healthy foods for him, we just didn't make it to the ER.
He needed a chest xray too, because his chest pain is worse now than after his surgery. I mean, on the same pain meds. He figures that cross-country drive home had something to do with it. Sounds logical to me.
And! That annoying right arm MRSA didn't respond to the minocycline as well as usual. In fact, even though I went with the Miami doc's instructions and stayed on it for longer than Dr. C said to do - last night, it flared up bad.
Voila!
A His and Hers trip to the ER.
When we came to Holy Cross to check in, the nice lady who generally oversees things there told us we were the second couple coming together today. Ha! Would I could hear what brought them here. But, of course, that rude HIPPA thing made me not even want to ask. Even as nosy as I am, and I could have promised and said cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye...but no. I was a good girl.
It was a long wait this time. Luckily, we advance planned enough to have books for both of us, plus Walter's computer.
His is the one with the Everywhere Wireless.
Which means, finally, I am really and truly liveblogging from the ER.
They would NOT put us in the same room no matter how we begged and pleaded. Oh, protocol!
Well! Here he is, staple-free! He had to bash some heads to get in to my room.
I'm sitting here waiting for my papers, greatly relieved that we have one last oral antibiotic to try. See, without Clindamycin, I'd have to be incarcerated here for a Vancomycin drip. But the smart doc went over this - that - and I explained about my printout, my list of allergies and meds and docs, and he said okay let's look, and said, Hey! Can you take Clindamycin? and I said, Well yes, so far so good!
Now I'm a free woman, ready to go home, and Walter's ready, and in two shakes we're outta here.
Oh, Walter says they used some special tool to take out his staples. He didn't even feel it.
Guess that's why my pliers didn't work.
heh!
When you're together by choice instead of incarceration, you have, at least, Options.
Walter needs to get some staples removed. Most of his stitches are the dissolving kind: the classic Open Heart Surgery railroad track up his chest; the slash on his left shoulder where his pacemaker now sits; the three long horrible inflamed sections on his legs where they took veins to use in his heart bypasses. He had two chest tubes in below his sternum, with one big old cloth stitch each. They yielded to my home surgical scissors with gratifying ease.
That leaves the unusually large gash where they put the heart catheter in his femoral artery.
His new local cardiac doc was quite puzzled at that one. It's generally just a little hole. Walter's is two inches long and held together with six nasty staples.
They did NOT yield to my pliers.
Not without a big old loud yelp from Walter, anyway.
So, I've been gently pummeling him to go get them out ever since.
We didn't want to go back to the primary who took over from my old doc. He gave Walter a thorough physical, pronouncing him in excellent health, a few weeks before he almost died from massive coronary artery disease.
I haven't been too happy with him either.
So apparently, unless your family doc is able and willing, you can't get just anyone to take out your stitches and staples these days. This complicated procedure requires an emergency room or a walk-in urgent care facility.
Since Walter's been wearing himself out sleeping and trying to eat healthy foods, and k's been wearing herself out rocking Walter to sleep and buying and cooking healthy foods for him, we just didn't make it to the ER.
He needed a chest xray too, because his chest pain is worse now than after his surgery. I mean, on the same pain meds. He figures that cross-country drive home had something to do with it. Sounds logical to me.
And! That annoying right arm MRSA didn't respond to the minocycline as well as usual. In fact, even though I went with the Miami doc's instructions and stayed on it for longer than Dr. C said to do - last night, it flared up bad.
Voila!
A His and Hers trip to the ER.
When we came to Holy Cross to check in, the nice lady who generally oversees things there told us we were the second couple coming together today. Ha! Would I could hear what brought them here. But, of course, that rude HIPPA thing made me not even want to ask. Even as nosy as I am, and I could have promised and said cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye...but no. I was a good girl.
It was a long wait this time. Luckily, we advance planned enough to have books for both of us, plus Walter's computer.
His is the one with the Everywhere Wireless.
Which means, finally, I am really and truly liveblogging from the ER.
They would NOT put us in the same room no matter how we begged and pleaded. Oh, protocol!
Well! Here he is, staple-free! He had to bash some heads to get in to my room.
I'm sitting here waiting for my papers, greatly relieved that we have one last oral antibiotic to try. See, without Clindamycin, I'd have to be incarcerated here for a Vancomycin drip. But the smart doc went over this - that - and I explained about my printout, my list of allergies and meds and docs, and he said okay let's look, and said, Hey! Can you take Clindamycin? and I said, Well yes, so far so good!
Now I'm a free woman, ready to go home, and Walter's ready, and in two shakes we're outta here.
Oh, Walter says they used some special tool to take out his staples. He didn't even feel it.
Guess that's why my pliers didn't work.
heh!
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Just Because I Ain't No Crapblogger...
Flatulence Allegedly Sparks Jail Fight
By Associated Press
NORTH PLATTE, Neb. - Brian Bruggeman caused a stink at the Lincoln County Jail earlier this month and will now have to answer for it in court. Another inmate, Jesse Dorris, alleges that Bruggeman's flatulence, passed in close proximity to Dorris, sparked a Dec. 14 fight between the two at the jail.
Now Bruggeman, 38, faces a Jan. 11 preliminary hearing on the state's complaint of assault by a confined person. It's a felony punishable by up to five years in prison.
Bruggeman is accused of injuring Dorris, his cellmate, when he pushed him into cell bars. Dorris, 26, was not charged.
The two began scuffling, County Attorney Jeff Meyer said Tuesday, because Dorris was fed up with Bruggeman's flatulence.
Jail fights are common, Meyer said, but the cause of this one was rather uncommon.
"It's usually about someone hogging the newspaper or someone not happy about what's on TV," he said.
Bruggeman, of Hershey, is serving a 90-day sentence for violating a protection order.
"He compounded his problems," Meyer said.
Dorris, of North Platte, is awaiting a January trial on a charge of aiding and abetting robbery.
Brad Dawson, Bruggeman's attorney, did not immediately return a phone message left at his office.
Sheriff Jerome Kramer said the incident was a result of overcrowding. The jail was built in 1933 and has a capacity of 23 inmates, according to 2006 standards, Kramer said. As many as 65 inmates have been lodged at the jail in recent days, he said.
"You just can't get a reprieve from one another," Kramer said. "When you've got a guy causing problems passing gas, there's no way to get away from the smell."
http://www.comcast.net/news/strange/index.jsp?cat=STRANGE&fn=/2006/12/26/549523.html
Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
By Associated Press
NORTH PLATTE, Neb. - Brian Bruggeman caused a stink at the Lincoln County Jail earlier this month and will now have to answer for it in court. Another inmate, Jesse Dorris, alleges that Bruggeman's flatulence, passed in close proximity to Dorris, sparked a Dec. 14 fight between the two at the jail.
Now Bruggeman, 38, faces a Jan. 11 preliminary hearing on the state's complaint of assault by a confined person. It's a felony punishable by up to five years in prison.
Bruggeman is accused of injuring Dorris, his cellmate, when he pushed him into cell bars. Dorris, 26, was not charged.
The two began scuffling, County Attorney Jeff Meyer said Tuesday, because Dorris was fed up with Bruggeman's flatulence.
Jail fights are common, Meyer said, but the cause of this one was rather uncommon.
"It's usually about someone hogging the newspaper or someone not happy about what's on TV," he said.
Bruggeman, of Hershey, is serving a 90-day sentence for violating a protection order.
"He compounded his problems," Meyer said.
Dorris, of North Platte, is awaiting a January trial on a charge of aiding and abetting robbery.
Brad Dawson, Bruggeman's attorney, did not immediately return a phone message left at his office.
Sheriff Jerome Kramer said the incident was a result of overcrowding. The jail was built in 1933 and has a capacity of 23 inmates, according to 2006 standards, Kramer said. As many as 65 inmates have been lodged at the jail in recent days, he said.
"You just can't get a reprieve from one another," Kramer said. "When you've got a guy causing problems passing gas, there's no way to get away from the smell."
http://www.comcast.net/news/strange/index.jsp?cat=STRANGE&fn=/2006/12/26/549523.html
Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Merry Christmas!
Yes, we're still here! And we're doing fine and Walter is recovering nicely.
He's sleeping a lot. This is good for him, especially considering how he's been hacked to pieces from head to toe.
Thing is, he sleeps much better if I lay down with him. I find this makes for scanty blogging, lately.
When the cats were with us it was such a treat to tell them: ohhh KITTuns! LET'S go to BED!
Oh BOY! those little tails and heads would pop up in the air, and they'd bounce around all joyous, oh BOY!!! A Nice Nap! oh BOY!!!
heh!
Not many creatures can appreciate a nap quite as well as a cat.
I feel them around so much lately. Babycat was a Doctor Cat, and took his role as a healer very seriously. He's been hanging around keeping a careful eye on Walter lately. And little April too, waving her gorgeous tortoise-shell long haired tail slowly back and forth, nuzzling and kneading our heads at night, kind of like little Jasmine with DC.
It's been an interesting Christmas. We both feel we have so much to celebrate - we feel so very Christmasy. Yet it's the first time ever that we've had no tree, no gifts, none of the outward trappings of the season. It just wasn't in the cards this year - but truly, it's all right. I have my guy, he's alive against all odds, we're here together and whatever in the world could be a better present than that?
One neighbor came by a couple days ago with a small but very sweet gift: homemade chocolate chip cookies, tied up in a tin Christmas cookie box with ribbons and everything. It was the one single holiday-ish thing we had in the house, this perfect little wonder from some newer neighbors. They come by walking their dog, alone or together, and stop and talk for a while if I'm up and around. If I'm not they'll quietly walk my front yard sometimes just for the simple pleasure it brings them. They love the park-like feel of it, and this means a great deal to me.
I hear you all out there. We'll catch up soon. Until then, we wish you all the peace and joy of the season, everything good to you and yours.
He's sleeping a lot. This is good for him, especially considering how he's been hacked to pieces from head to toe.
Thing is, he sleeps much better if I lay down with him. I find this makes for scanty blogging, lately.
When the cats were with us it was such a treat to tell them: ohhh KITTuns! LET'S go to BED!
Oh BOY! those little tails and heads would pop up in the air, and they'd bounce around all joyous, oh BOY!!! A Nice Nap! oh BOY!!!
heh!
Not many creatures can appreciate a nap quite as well as a cat.
I feel them around so much lately. Babycat was a Doctor Cat, and took his role as a healer very seriously. He's been hanging around keeping a careful eye on Walter lately. And little April too, waving her gorgeous tortoise-shell long haired tail slowly back and forth, nuzzling and kneading our heads at night, kind of like little Jasmine with DC.
It's been an interesting Christmas. We both feel we have so much to celebrate - we feel so very Christmasy. Yet it's the first time ever that we've had no tree, no gifts, none of the outward trappings of the season. It just wasn't in the cards this year - but truly, it's all right. I have my guy, he's alive against all odds, we're here together and whatever in the world could be a better present than that?
One neighbor came by a couple days ago with a small but very sweet gift: homemade chocolate chip cookies, tied up in a tin Christmas cookie box with ribbons and everything. It was the one single holiday-ish thing we had in the house, this perfect little wonder from some newer neighbors. They come by walking their dog, alone or together, and stop and talk for a while if I'm up and around. If I'm not they'll quietly walk my front yard sometimes just for the simple pleasure it brings them. They love the park-like feel of it, and this means a great deal to me.
I hear you all out there. We'll catch up soon. Until then, we wish you all the peace and joy of the season, everything good to you and yours.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Man Sorry for Taking Handicapped Spot
WELL! And he should be. But hey. I forgive him. He really does seem contrite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Man Sorry for Taking Handicapped Spot
By Associated Press
Sat Dec 16, 7:35 AM
UNION, S.C. - A man who parked illegally in a space reserved for handicapped drivers was sentenced to stand outside the store with a sign telling everyone about his crime.
Ragheem Smith, 29, stood in front of a Bi-Lo grocery store Thursday with a handmade sign that read "I am not handicapped. I just parked there, sorry."
Magistrate Jeff Bailey imposed the sentence. "I figured he needed to apologize in a public way," Bailey said.
Smith told Bailey he didn't have the money and couldn't afford the time away from work that a
jail sentence would require. He could have been sentenced to 30 days in jail or fined $325.
"That was better than having to pay a lot of money," Smith said of his punishment. "I know I won't do it no more."
http://www.comcast.net/news/strange/index.jsp?cat=STRANGE&fn=/2006/12/16/543298.html&cvqh=twisted_handicapped
Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Man Sorry for Taking Handicapped Spot
By Associated Press
Sat Dec 16, 7:35 AM
UNION, S.C. - A man who parked illegally in a space reserved for handicapped drivers was sentenced to stand outside the store with a sign telling everyone about his crime.
Ragheem Smith, 29, stood in front of a Bi-Lo grocery store Thursday with a handmade sign that read "I am not handicapped. I just parked there, sorry."
Magistrate Jeff Bailey imposed the sentence. "I figured he needed to apologize in a public way," Bailey said.
Smith told Bailey he didn't have the money and couldn't afford the time away from work that a
jail sentence would require. He could have been sentenced to 30 days in jail or fined $325.
"That was better than having to pay a lot of money," Smith said of his punishment. "I know I won't do it no more."
http://www.comcast.net/news/strange/index.jsp?cat=STRANGE&fn=/2006/12/16/543298.html&cvqh=twisted_handicapped
Copyright 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Released. Released, and Homeward Bound.
The hospital was ever so eager to let him go.
At least, that's what they'd been telling him.
His cardio surgeon made it very clear that when Walter was released, he would be safe from my germs - and I would be safe from his. Statements like that told me a lot about the caliber of his caregivers. See, I never talked to the surgeon. He deduced or was told, and remembered, that I'm immunocompromised and have far more to fear from others than they do from me. He took that into account when he decided on Walter's release day.
The surgeon told Walter that if he started smoking again, he'd come after him. Hunt him down. I told Walter, --Yes indeed. Tell him he can call me anytime and I'll rat fink on you. I'll give you up to him if you start again.
But Walter had already decided he's done with smoking. Since smoking poses as big a risk to his heart as bad diet does, if he can stay off cigarettes, he's instantly overcome a highly significant risk factor.
I used to smoke, heavily, and I know full well how terrible an addiction it can be. They had him on nicotine patches in ICU, which certainly help, but an unplanned cold turkey stop is really rough. After the bypass surgery they couldn't even give him the patches; as the nurse put it, his veins would have had a fit.
He's made it through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms by now. And I have a sense he's very determined to become a healthy person again. He's made decisions and changes that are radically different from the man of only two weeks ago.
Walter did so well on his cardio rehab, which seems to consist of jumping out of bed and running up and down the halls in ICU, that they decided he didn't need any more PT than he was already doing on his own. That's why they released him straight from the hospital to home.
His MRSA cultures came out negative. Yes, negative: he is NOT colonized with my nasty germs.
Oh, hallelujah! Every time I remember that I break my face grinning.
Still, they kept pumping him full of Vancomycin. They told him Friday would be his last dose. Then they changed their minds and gave him an even bigger dose Saturday. And this morning? They nabbed him again.
All that pushing him out the door, and he was still doing blood tests and paperwork today, Sunday. The doctor didn't show up until after lunch, and you don't get out till the doc says Yes.
Then here come Horacio and Danny to save the day! They swooped in and grabbed him and tossed him in their big beautiful giant show truck.
Free at last.
This odyssey to retrieve Walter and get him safely home is taking all four of us back to the time we worked together in our shipping company. He's precious cargo, the most precious ever.
Back in the day, I used to send the drivers out on their long delivery runs with an itinerary and a sheaf of maps printed out from Microsoft Streets & Trips. I'd plug in their stops, plan their route, and show different map views including very tight close-ups for tricky places. When I could I'd print them in color.
The itinerary would have every contact name and phone number they could possibly need. Customer at home, work, cell; spouse, other family sometimes; the furniture vendor and salesman. Doorman. Building manager or security for authority to bring a truck to a New York City high-rise. I'd always get directions from the customer, too, and transcribe them. I spent a lot of time on the phone with customers, before, during, and after the delivery. Communicate, communicate, communicate.
So when Horacio and Danny asked if I would have maps for them, I jumped all over that. You want maps, guys? You got maps. You betcha.
Except...the printer wasn't printing.
That's the sort of thing I'd rather not even look at. It's amazing how much computer related stuff can wait till Walter gets home.
Not this time.
So...me the phobe, I figured it out, all by myself.
heh!
I went online, downloaded the PDF manual, realized it not only had a weird paper jam, but wanted new color inks. Okay.
I did it. All by myself.
So Friday afternoon I was ready. I must have printed fifteen maps for them. Nice pretty color ones. I did the whole route, some other overviews, and details for every time they had to change highways or do a bypass. I had close-ups maps of the hospital area and the towing company that had Walter's big rig.
The cover page had full directions to the hospital and towyard, their phone numbers, and contact names and notes for the tow company too. Including one that says, --They're open 24/7 but please call first before you go there.
After they got Walter out of the hospital, Danny called me and wanted to know how to get to the towyard.
I said, Do you still have that paper I printed out with the directions? They're on that. Phone number too, they said come anytime, but please call first.
Sometimes the guys would forget to read the whole page. That took me back, too. ;-)
They got to the rig, and cleared out Walter's things. This took a few hours. It's like moving house. They packed up his clothes and bedding and cooler and cooking things and food and microwave and lots of regular books and books on CD and tools and radios and antennas and, and all that. It filled up the entire bed of the big giant pickup truck.
Understand, this truck does NOT go places and do things like a work truck does. No. This is an Art Truck.
But it's a working truck today.
After the late release, then all that loading work, they even got 100 miles under their belts. Now they're stopped for the night. I'd hammered on them all to go SLOW. No reason to rush. Take all the time you need, take days and days if you want. Be gentle with my guy.
And they are. Extremely. He has two dedicated buddies guarding his well being like a pair of eagles. Fierce and strong and loving and determined.
At least, that's what they'd been telling him.
His cardio surgeon made it very clear that when Walter was released, he would be safe from my germs - and I would be safe from his. Statements like that told me a lot about the caliber of his caregivers. See, I never talked to the surgeon. He deduced or was told, and remembered, that I'm immunocompromised and have far more to fear from others than they do from me. He took that into account when he decided on Walter's release day.
The surgeon told Walter that if he started smoking again, he'd come after him. Hunt him down. I told Walter, --Yes indeed. Tell him he can call me anytime and I'll rat fink on you. I'll give you up to him if you start again.
But Walter had already decided he's done with smoking. Since smoking poses as big a risk to his heart as bad diet does, if he can stay off cigarettes, he's instantly overcome a highly significant risk factor.
I used to smoke, heavily, and I know full well how terrible an addiction it can be. They had him on nicotine patches in ICU, which certainly help, but an unplanned cold turkey stop is really rough. After the bypass surgery they couldn't even give him the patches; as the nurse put it, his veins would have had a fit.
He's made it through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms by now. And I have a sense he's very determined to become a healthy person again. He's made decisions and changes that are radically different from the man of only two weeks ago.
Walter did so well on his cardio rehab, which seems to consist of jumping out of bed and running up and down the halls in ICU, that they decided he didn't need any more PT than he was already doing on his own. That's why they released him straight from the hospital to home.
His MRSA cultures came out negative. Yes, negative: he is NOT colonized with my nasty germs.
Oh, hallelujah! Every time I remember that I break my face grinning.
Still, they kept pumping him full of Vancomycin. They told him Friday would be his last dose. Then they changed their minds and gave him an even bigger dose Saturday. And this morning? They nabbed him again.
All that pushing him out the door, and he was still doing blood tests and paperwork today, Sunday. The doctor didn't show up until after lunch, and you don't get out till the doc says Yes.
Then here come Horacio and Danny to save the day! They swooped in and grabbed him and tossed him in their big beautiful giant show truck.
Free at last.
This odyssey to retrieve Walter and get him safely home is taking all four of us back to the time we worked together in our shipping company. He's precious cargo, the most precious ever.
Back in the day, I used to send the drivers out on their long delivery runs with an itinerary and a sheaf of maps printed out from Microsoft Streets & Trips. I'd plug in their stops, plan their route, and show different map views including very tight close-ups for tricky places. When I could I'd print them in color.
The itinerary would have every contact name and phone number they could possibly need. Customer at home, work, cell; spouse, other family sometimes; the furniture vendor and salesman. Doorman. Building manager or security for authority to bring a truck to a New York City high-rise. I'd always get directions from the customer, too, and transcribe them. I spent a lot of time on the phone with customers, before, during, and after the delivery. Communicate, communicate, communicate.
So when Horacio and Danny asked if I would have maps for them, I jumped all over that. You want maps, guys? You got maps. You betcha.
Except...the printer wasn't printing.
That's the sort of thing I'd rather not even look at. It's amazing how much computer related stuff can wait till Walter gets home.
Not this time.
So...me the phobe, I figured it out, all by myself.
heh!
I went online, downloaded the PDF manual, realized it not only had a weird paper jam, but wanted new color inks. Okay.
I did it. All by myself.
So Friday afternoon I was ready. I must have printed fifteen maps for them. Nice pretty color ones. I did the whole route, some other overviews, and details for every time they had to change highways or do a bypass. I had close-ups maps of the hospital area and the towing company that had Walter's big rig.
The cover page had full directions to the hospital and towyard, their phone numbers, and contact names and notes for the tow company too. Including one that says, --They're open 24/7 but please call first before you go there.
After they got Walter out of the hospital, Danny called me and wanted to know how to get to the towyard.
I said, Do you still have that paper I printed out with the directions? They're on that. Phone number too, they said come anytime, but please call first.
Sometimes the guys would forget to read the whole page. That took me back, too. ;-)
They got to the rig, and cleared out Walter's things. This took a few hours. It's like moving house. They packed up his clothes and bedding and cooler and cooking things and food and microwave and lots of regular books and books on CD and tools and radios and antennas and, and all that. It filled up the entire bed of the big giant pickup truck.
Understand, this truck does NOT go places and do things like a work truck does. No. This is an Art Truck.
But it's a working truck today.
After the late release, then all that loading work, they even got 100 miles under their belts. Now they're stopped for the night. I'd hammered on them all to go SLOW. No reason to rush. Take all the time you need, take days and days if you want. Be gentle with my guy.
And they are. Extremely. He has two dedicated buddies guarding his well being like a pair of eagles. Fierce and strong and loving and determined.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
A Long Road
This is just a part of the long journey from the parking lot to the great doc's office, down in Miami.
I forgot to start at the very beginning: once you actually
enter the building and get your pass, the doc's at the very end of a very long hallway.Being slow on the uptake this day, I started the pix at the front entrance, as I was leaving to go back home.
To my left is the valet parking stand. I can't use that: I can't survive their lingering allergenic scents in my car. I need mental clarity to drive. Neither do I want any germ exchanges going on.
So I've just exited the building, and I'm looking up the first of two long sloping walkways.
I cranked the scooter and zipped on up. Hung a right, got more pix, and zipped on up again.
So far this hasn't even gotten me out of Cedars and into the parking garage.
This shorter passage gets me there.
Anyone who parks in the garage has to come to this 3rd floor passage to get to Cedars East. So there's a lot of foot traffic through the yellow lined areas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)