Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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1 Comments:
Big kisses to you, Ed & Mr. Man, aka Big C.
By Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Tuesday, April 26, 2005 Mea Culpa, Amie - But I don’t have a digital camera. I’ve got some on film to take to the 1-hour folk and if there is a chance tonight I’ll post them. So - check back after 7:30. P.M. that is. It’s an ungodly hour right now: 4:30 a.m. and I’ve been up for an hour or so. I would probably be pissed off if this were an ordinary insomnia attack. Instead I can murmur little soothing sounds to myself about TimesOfStress and Being Patient With My Body. And what can’t be blamed on stress can be blamed on the all night serenade from the puppy - imprisoned in the downstairs bathroom and not happy about it at all. The first day back at work was not too bad - though of course most of the day I spent telling the story of BD and the MI. People wanted all the juicy details and I enjoyed telling them. I know that telling stuff over and over takes away most of its scary effects. All the really bad things in my life have poured out of my mouth in the form of Self in the Third Person Tales-O-Bess. I have been able to exorcise nearly all my demons that way, though it’s possible I have bored people far beyond the claims of friendship. I did get my office desk uncluttered - a rehearsal for the job I’ll have to do here at home with the table tops. Knit Dad talks about the real possibility of seeing the top of his tables in some happy future moment. And how I envy him. We have really only two tables in the house, the dining room table/heap holder and the RealAntiqueButTooRicketyToPutAnythingOnIt Clover table by the couch. This doesn’t count the bedside tables which are merely heapettes - mostly full of books. I can sometimes keep on top of junk and junque and zhoongk and I sometimes stuff it all into brown paper bags and forget about the contents for a year or two. But before the avalanche of medical correspondence begins to crush its way into my house - I had better clean off the tables and set up the new file box. I have HMO insurance and over the past decade all they’ve ever had to pay is little piddly $30 co-pay bills for me every 6 months or so. Now I’m going to be cashing in the chips. I hadn’t read the fat Explanation of Benefits booklet in a very long time and of course, when I opened it up yesterday morning the first thing I saw was, "You must call within 48 hours of being admitted to a hospital for a critical event. Failure to do so could result in loss of benefits." And of course, I hadn’t called them yet and it had been well over 48 hours. Evidently, though, the hospital had called and set everything up and we were already in the system. Yesterday I got a letter from them saying BD was fully covered for his stay at the hospital and he got a phone call from the HMO folk strongly urging him to take advantage of the 18 weeks of pulmonary rehab he was eligible for. The helicopter ride is covered too - according to the EOB booklet. I’ve heard so many horror stories about insurance companies making really sick patients jump through spine contorting hoops. Let us hope I am more fortunate than that (though I have amazing flexibility and can also wait longer than anyone I know.) Well - these are just the dull little details of MajorMedicalEvents. If that is all I can find to write about I think I ought to go finish the Spring Fling bag. Puppy was rescued from his prison and is snuggled in the Big Bed with BD. Priss and Socks are working their way up to accepting him into the pack. They were pretty jealous yesterday and to prove they were still as cute as any puppy, they played their kissing game for half an hour out in the front yard. BD said Priss rolled the pup over and gave an angry snap after one serious canine protocol violation, but her teeth never came near any puppy flesh. Happily, the little fellow is too self absorbed to be cowered and besides, he’s a guy. He seems to take for granted that he’ll be Boss Dog soon enough. Ahh biology. We still haven’t completely settled on a name. We are now toying with Captain Jack but that’s not a definite yet. I know his real name is Big Champion. Best thing about him isn’t his name, anyway - it’s the happy distraction he provides BD and the furry snuggles he gives us both. Photos tonight. posted by Bess | 5:09 AM |
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