It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon here at St. John’s Infirmary. It rained here despite the sunshine and that makes it all the more humid. I can’t even get outside for a little while without wilting.
On the medical front, went late last week to the endicrinology clinic to check my adrenal gland function and the first of the three tests came back aces. The doctors keep telling me that my recovery is way ahead of schedule.
From my perspective, I’m still skinny and still often hurt on the right side. One change in the pain management picture is that my complaint has moved from the incision itself to the deep ache of having my ribs pried apart.
Unless someone has kicked you full force three times with steel toed boots while you lay on the floor writhing, you have no idea. Of course that’s never happened to me, so I’m projecting just like you.
My grandchildren are expected to be here the first week of August and that’s good news with exponential increase for the likelihood that son Jack and/or sister MindOverMary will follow suit. Also, my neice Katie may be bringing her children this way to visit her father about that same time, so family fun can explode in many directions.
Speaking of family fun, one of my sisters is staying with my Mom while awaiting damage repairs from the hailstorm. Yeah, the hailstorm from the last of May. That’s a long time to wait for workmen to do something at your home, but that’s the situation. I’ve got plenty of my own problems, so I’m glad that’s not one of them.
I’ve been too lazy this weekend to even shave. I bought the Sunday New York Times and haven’t looked at it. Now, you have to admit THAT is the very definition of lazy.
If you hear someone found me dead in my home, crushed by piles of unidentified stuff, I just want you to know I am not yet a hoarder; I’ve just got that many medical bills rolling in that fast. Who knew hospitals charge by the square for toilet paper even when you’re constipated?
I want to go see Despicable Me, but I’m putting that off until a weeknight so I can watch it undisturbed by small children with sticky hands and squeaking voices. When I see a 3D cartoon about small children with sticky hands and squeaking voices, I want them on screen and not kicking the back of my seat, and that’s my final word on that subject.
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