Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2024-01-20 09:56 pm
azurelunatic) wrote2024-01-20 09:56 pm
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Alas, Costco seems to be out of the very good jarred butter chicken sauce.
Yellface has been allowing Alex to touch her face, and right now she seems to be soliciting cheek rubs.
My week got long:
Saturday:alexseanchai's birthday. Steph made pasta bake; I helped a little around the edges with some locations of things, holding the odd pot, taking off the foil near the end of the bake and rotating the board, and pulling the pans out. Very good pasta bake.
Mila may be part gerbil as she likes to disassemble cardboard.
Sunday: I attempted to pick up prescriptions but forgot about Sunday hours.
Steph baked gluten free chocolate chip cookies.
Monday: errands with Alex and Belovedest. Steph made meatballs.
It is a family tradition to break couch arms by standing on them. My dad came home one evening to find Mama finishing up a book about woolly mammoths with me. We were in the glossary at this point, and shortly after Dad came in, she started in on the definition of "climate".
"Climb it!" Dad said, and in an athletic feat owing as much to probably-ADHD impulsivity as it did to flexibility and strength, he mounted the arm of the couch we were sitting on, in a great leap.
Now, this was the mid 1980s, and the couch was clearly a purchase of the 1970s. Guide Dog Aunt mentioned once that she and Aunt Fay had advised Dad to get a couch, as it would add a homey vibe that would repel women less. The resulting purchase was a full length couch with two wide cushions and a pull-out bed. And it was blaze orange. Burlap.
My sister and I had found that we could use the seat of The Orange Couch as an interim level to reach the back and dance around there, and balance ourselves carefully on the narrower arms. We had spent many happy hours disporting ourselves there, yelling and singing at the top of our little high-pitched lungs.
The arm of the couch was not, however, designed to support a full-size, six-foot-something man. There was a thunderous CRACK! and Dad found himself standing with one leg inside the arm of the couch, one out, feeling supremely foolish.
The couch hung around for perhaps another decade after that, and was the couch that we were allowed to hold chickens on, not Mama's treasured New Couch, a luxurious futon model made with cherry wood and a much nicer folding mechanism.
In any event, we were on notice to expect Steph's new couch arm in a shipment this week. The circumstances were much less memorable.
Tuesday: Alex had an appointment. I had a nearly simultaneous appointment, about a 5 minute drive away. So we determined that I would drop Alex off at their appointment and then go to mine, and pick them up after I was done.
The first problem was my car door lock. I stuck my key in and found it wouldn't turn. I pulled it out, looked sadly at it, looked sadly at the lock, and put it back in. Eventually, after a lot of wiggling, it turned and I was able to unlock the rest of the doors. It had been both rainy and freezing, so I'm not sure why I was surprised.
I attained my appointment with no further problems, got a parking spot that was only moderately inconvenient, and used the early arrival to take a few photos of the interior of the building. The available photos online were pretty paltry, and I could help with that. Upon checking in, I learned that my doctor was running 30 to 45 minutes late. Ouch.
I found a nice seat with a view of the screen showing Chopped, and checked in with house chat. It was Belovedest's work from home day, which gave them a certain amount of leeway. Alex put in that the restrooms in the building were closed.
My building had open restrooms. I looked at the time estimate. I approached the reception desk and laid out the situation to them. "At Hilltop," I clarified.
"Oh, that's just around the corner. I'll mark you as having stepped out, like to the bathroom," the senior receptionist said cheerily. "When you get back, just wave at me and I'll mark you back in."
I conveyed my intentions to house chat. And then had another argument with my car door. But while I was driving, Belovedest updated again: they were there, ready to pick Alex up, and had in fact picked them up and headed home. Oops. So I retreated in good order.
As I rounded the corner into the parking lot, my phone started buzzing. It lit up with the medical practice name. Obviously to tell me that it was my turn. Damn, no headset. But I had my watch. I hit the green button on the watch face and cruised for a parking spot. "I'm literally in your parking lot," I confessed. Which was fine. I would just scurry rather than taking my time. Not fun on my level of anemia...
I parked and hit the button to toggle the locks. Clonk. I turned and addressed the door. What?! It didn't open?! SHIT!!!
The lock knob was, infuriatingly, only halfway up. Not fully unlocked. The same damn thing it had done a year prior while I was trying to get my initial hip x-ray. I eyed the door opposite, with its tauntingly unlocked knob. Could I climb over the gear lever? Maybe with the seat reclined? I didn't hit the button again. I knew that if the problem was an overheated mechanism, repeated toggling would be counterproductive. I tried pulling. No response. Damn.
On a whim, I tried pushing the knob down. It went!!! Barely daring to hope, I pulled up. SUCCESS!!!
I marched my anemic ass up the slope in the direction of the entrance, wheezing a little. The automatic door was open and whining about it. No delay with the elevator. I waved at the receptionist, who nodded significantly at me. I collapsed and attempted to get my breath back.
"Now, we'll just go over your medications really quickly," the trainee medical assistant said, when we were back in a room. I gave a mirthless little laugh. I'm on enough medications, and I have enough over-the-counter medications and supplements logged in the system, that there is no such thing. (If the OTC meds are on file, nurses can basically just give them to you in the event of a hospitalization. If the meds are not essentially pre-approved by my medical team based on their presence in the file, the nurse needs to find a doctor with the spare time to approve even a stupid antacid, and in the meantime my stomach is trying to eat itself. Not to pick a specific example or anything...)
The medication review took longer than the conversation with the cardiologist. My heart is just fine, perfectly normal, and I can stop taking the baby aspirin which should help with the chemo anemia. And I am essentially fired as a patient, due to not needing a cardiologist at this point in my life. Can we say HELL YEAH?! HELL YEAH!!!
I applied friction to my key on the way out of the office, and this time it took a slightly shorter time to open the lock. When I got home, I ordered a few bottles of lock de-icer. (Makita cordless heat guns are somewhat expensive, but there does also exist a cordless Makita coffee machine compatible with our battery.)
Our house is probably too old for the doors to be wheatcore, the worst genre. (Alex's celiac evaluation is coming up.)
Wednesday: I found Steph's missing pair of pants.
Thursday: A small mountain of FedEx bags arrived, containing Ev's Christmas present: a wardrobe refresh via Holy Clothing. They have largely moved away from velvet, alas, or I would have really been agonizing over my choices.
Mila didn't run when I came in to offer her a treat, and sniffed my hand with no evidence of fear! She didn't want to eat the treat out of my hand, but did eat it after I put it in front of her and retreated. Progress!!
Friday: Errands: pharmacy and shopping. I got some mochi for the new year but didn't get a big red and gold rotating dish of assorted candies because there didn't seem to be a good way of telling which candies were peanut and which were not. After the pharmacy, the Asian grocery, and Costco I suggested food, rejected the Costco food court on the grounds of wait time, and suggested Jack in the Box for chicken strips.
We consumed more Harrow the Ninth, and Belovedest has been having Thoughts.
Today: Belovedest had a Pokemon thing, then we went to return the charcuterie that was subject to recall and pick up carrots, after which we got tea bags and bacon. The carrot bag sprang a leak on me. I retaliated by using that bag first, and breaking out the power slicer attachment for the KitchenAid. Carrots are narrow and heavy enough that they almost go through under their own power, and I think I filled the large bowl with sliced carrots in somewhat under a minute all put together. Onions are more difficult, being more fibrous. I might try the grater attachment on those the next time I try.
Then in the process of making something vaguely resembling chicken pad Thai, I dropped a jug of orange sauce, which shattered on the floor under the refrigerator. Uttering "Help!" and "Dog towel!" brought Belovedest and Alex running to my rescue.
The Pad Thai is very tasty but next time I think half an onion rather than a whole one.
Yellface has been allowing Alex to touch her face, and right now she seems to be soliciting cheek rubs.
My week got long:
Saturday:
alexseanchai's birthday. Steph made pasta bake; I helped a little around the edges with some locations of things, holding the odd pot, taking off the foil near the end of the bake and rotating the board, and pulling the pans out. Very good pasta bake. Mila may be part gerbil as she likes to disassemble cardboard.
Sunday: I attempted to pick up prescriptions but forgot about Sunday hours.
Steph baked gluten free chocolate chip cookies.
Monday: errands with Alex and Belovedest. Steph made meatballs.
It is a family tradition to break couch arms by standing on them. My dad came home one evening to find Mama finishing up a book about woolly mammoths with me. We were in the glossary at this point, and shortly after Dad came in, she started in on the definition of "climate".
"Climb it!" Dad said, and in an athletic feat owing as much to probably-ADHD impulsivity as it did to flexibility and strength, he mounted the arm of the couch we were sitting on, in a great leap.
Now, this was the mid 1980s, and the couch was clearly a purchase of the 1970s. Guide Dog Aunt mentioned once that she and Aunt Fay had advised Dad to get a couch, as it would add a homey vibe that would repel women less. The resulting purchase was a full length couch with two wide cushions and a pull-out bed. And it was blaze orange. Burlap.
My sister and I had found that we could use the seat of The Orange Couch as an interim level to reach the back and dance around there, and balance ourselves carefully on the narrower arms. We had spent many happy hours disporting ourselves there, yelling and singing at the top of our little high-pitched lungs.
The arm of the couch was not, however, designed to support a full-size, six-foot-something man. There was a thunderous CRACK! and Dad found himself standing with one leg inside the arm of the couch, one out, feeling supremely foolish.
The couch hung around for perhaps another decade after that, and was the couch that we were allowed to hold chickens on, not Mama's treasured New Couch, a luxurious futon model made with cherry wood and a much nicer folding mechanism.
In any event, we were on notice to expect Steph's new couch arm in a shipment this week. The circumstances were much less memorable.
Tuesday: Alex had an appointment. I had a nearly simultaneous appointment, about a 5 minute drive away. So we determined that I would drop Alex off at their appointment and then go to mine, and pick them up after I was done.
The first problem was my car door lock. I stuck my key in and found it wouldn't turn. I pulled it out, looked sadly at it, looked sadly at the lock, and put it back in. Eventually, after a lot of wiggling, it turned and I was able to unlock the rest of the doors. It had been both rainy and freezing, so I'm not sure why I was surprised.
I attained my appointment with no further problems, got a parking spot that was only moderately inconvenient, and used the early arrival to take a few photos of the interior of the building. The available photos online were pretty paltry, and I could help with that. Upon checking in, I learned that my doctor was running 30 to 45 minutes late. Ouch.
I found a nice seat with a view of the screen showing Chopped, and checked in with house chat. It was Belovedest's work from home day, which gave them a certain amount of leeway. Alex put in that the restrooms in the building were closed.
My building had open restrooms. I looked at the time estimate. I approached the reception desk and laid out the situation to them. "At Hilltop," I clarified.
"Oh, that's just around the corner. I'll mark you as having stepped out, like to the bathroom," the senior receptionist said cheerily. "When you get back, just wave at me and I'll mark you back in."
I conveyed my intentions to house chat. And then had another argument with my car door. But while I was driving, Belovedest updated again: they were there, ready to pick Alex up, and had in fact picked them up and headed home. Oops. So I retreated in good order.
As I rounded the corner into the parking lot, my phone started buzzing. It lit up with the medical practice name. Obviously to tell me that it was my turn. Damn, no headset. But I had my watch. I hit the green button on the watch face and cruised for a parking spot. "I'm literally in your parking lot," I confessed. Which was fine. I would just scurry rather than taking my time. Not fun on my level of anemia...
I parked and hit the button to toggle the locks. Clonk. I turned and addressed the door. What?! It didn't open?! SHIT!!!
The lock knob was, infuriatingly, only halfway up. Not fully unlocked. The same damn thing it had done a year prior while I was trying to get my initial hip x-ray. I eyed the door opposite, with its tauntingly unlocked knob. Could I climb over the gear lever? Maybe with the seat reclined? I didn't hit the button again. I knew that if the problem was an overheated mechanism, repeated toggling would be counterproductive. I tried pulling. No response. Damn.
On a whim, I tried pushing the knob down. It went!!! Barely daring to hope, I pulled up. SUCCESS!!!
I marched my anemic ass up the slope in the direction of the entrance, wheezing a little. The automatic door was open and whining about it. No delay with the elevator. I waved at the receptionist, who nodded significantly at me. I collapsed and attempted to get my breath back.
"Now, we'll just go over your medications really quickly," the trainee medical assistant said, when we were back in a room. I gave a mirthless little laugh. I'm on enough medications, and I have enough over-the-counter medications and supplements logged in the system, that there is no such thing. (If the OTC meds are on file, nurses can basically just give them to you in the event of a hospitalization. If the meds are not essentially pre-approved by my medical team based on their presence in the file, the nurse needs to find a doctor with the spare time to approve even a stupid antacid, and in the meantime my stomach is trying to eat itself. Not to pick a specific example or anything...)
The medication review took longer than the conversation with the cardiologist. My heart is just fine, perfectly normal, and I can stop taking the baby aspirin which should help with the chemo anemia. And I am essentially fired as a patient, due to not needing a cardiologist at this point in my life. Can we say HELL YEAH?! HELL YEAH!!!
I applied friction to my key on the way out of the office, and this time it took a slightly shorter time to open the lock. When I got home, I ordered a few bottles of lock de-icer. (Makita cordless heat guns are somewhat expensive, but there does also exist a cordless Makita coffee machine compatible with our battery.)
Our house is probably too old for the doors to be wheatcore, the worst genre. (Alex's celiac evaluation is coming up.)
Wednesday: I found Steph's missing pair of pants.
Thursday: A small mountain of FedEx bags arrived, containing Ev's Christmas present: a wardrobe refresh via Holy Clothing. They have largely moved away from velvet, alas, or I would have really been agonizing over my choices.
Mila didn't run when I came in to offer her a treat, and sniffed my hand with no evidence of fear! She didn't want to eat the treat out of my hand, but did eat it after I put it in front of her and retreated. Progress!!
Friday: Errands: pharmacy and shopping. I got some mochi for the new year but didn't get a big red and gold rotating dish of assorted candies because there didn't seem to be a good way of telling which candies were peanut and which were not. After the pharmacy, the Asian grocery, and Costco I suggested food, rejected the Costco food court on the grounds of wait time, and suggested Jack in the Box for chicken strips.
We consumed more Harrow the Ninth, and Belovedest has been having Thoughts.
Today: Belovedest had a Pokemon thing, then we went to return the charcuterie that was subject to recall and pick up carrots, after which we got tea bags and bacon. The carrot bag sprang a leak on me. I retaliated by using that bag first, and breaking out the power slicer attachment for the KitchenAid. Carrots are narrow and heavy enough that they almost go through under their own power, and I think I filled the large bowl with sliced carrots in somewhat under a minute all put together. Onions are more difficult, being more fibrous. I might try the grater attachment on those the next time I try.
Then in the process of making something vaguely resembling chicken pad Thai, I dropped a jug of orange sauce, which shattered on the floor under the refrigerator. Uttering "Help!" and "Dog towel!" brought Belovedest and Alex running to my rescue.
The Pad Thai is very tasty but next time I think half an onion rather than a whole one.
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Re the orange sauce, *fistbump* Mine was two days ago, and was a bottle of orange soda syrup.
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Wow howdy that was a busy week!
Congrats on leaving one medico behind.
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