Vet Visit Etiquette

Today was Jackson the Cat's least favorite day of the year...his annual visit to the vet for a checkup and shots. 

Going to the clinic is the only time Jackson typically leaves the house, and he doesn't enjoy anything about it.  When I brought the carrier up from the basement yesterday he gave it a sniff, then gave it the stink eye and a wide berth. 

Jackson's appointment was mid-afternoon, shortly after his lunch. I hoped that he wouldn't have a chance to find a secluded place for a nap, but the condo doesn't have many places for a cat to hide and when it was time to leave Jackson was easy to find. As soon as he was locked into his carrier he started a mournful howl, which continued sporadically all the way to the vet.

Last year the office did curbside-only appointments. This year they allowed one person inside, but you had to call from the parking lot first and get permission to enter. Hubby Tony wanted to be Jackson's person. I agreed. However, I decided to come along too and pass the time reading a book.

The clinic is on Manchester Road (a major arterial street) and it's always hard to gauge just how long it will take to get there. We ended up arriving five minutes early, and when Tony called he found out there wasn't an office ready yet. We waited in the car until Tony got word that they were ready for him. He carefully removed the carrier from the back seat of the car and carried it across the parking lot.

I got my book out and started reading. Fifteen minutes later my phone rang. It was Tony, who put me on speaker phone so I could hear and be a part of his conversation with the vet. I learned that Jackson has some geriatric-cat issues, but for the most part he got a clean bill of health. As the vet left the room Tony ended the call, and five minutes later he had finished the paperwork part of the visit and was ready to go.

Five years ago: Gimme A Subject

When Will I Learn?

This weekend I was in the central part of the state at a business meeting for a fellowship I belong to. I helped set up for the meeting, so I left the house Thursday afternoon and got home last night a couple of hours before bedtime.

I usually eat a pretty healthy diet. During my trip I did fit in some some minimal fresh vegetables and fruit, but for the most part it was an orgy of simple carbohydrates, fat, sugar, and chocolate. By the time I got home my body was rebelling. My stomach was churning and I had trouble sleeping with all of the junk coursing through my system. I woke up this morning with a headache. I had no energy, it was hard to get out of bed, and I was so grumpy that even Jackson the cat kept his distance.

Today was about resetting my system. All of my meals and snacks were healthy. The only sweets I ate were fresh fruit. I lost track of how much water I drank. When Hubby Tony and I went to a local gas station to take advantage of a drink promotion they run when the baseball Cardinals score more than six runs the previous day I passed on the yummy frozen Pepsi, got myself a cup of cold brew coffee, and felt pretty virtuous about it.

My resetting has paid off. The headache disappeared after breakfast.  It took a second meal for the other issues to go away. By mid-afternoon I was tackling the items on my to-do list. Moving around gave me even more energy, and soon I was running on all cylinders. Thank goodness.

Five years ago today: No Interstates Allowed

Wash Your Hands And Freshen Your Breath

This morning I went out to a breakfast meeting. The food was fabulous and the group got a lot done. I drank a lot of coffee, so I stopped by the bathroom before leaving the restaurant. The sink area was quite unique. It was a large sheet of marble with two faucets and hardly any sink indentations. Somehow the water managed to make it into the drain.

And the area had another new-to-me feature, a mouthwash dispenser with a sleeve of tiny cups next to it. 

You never know what you're going to find!

How Hot Is It?

Every year about this time I get sick of the August weather. Every day is hot, humid, and miserable. Just how hot is it? 

• Every time I leave the house I seriously consider if I even need to, because it feels like too much work.
  

• At 9 am I went to the grocery store to get a couple of things. I could already feel the heat radiating off of the blacktopped lot as I walked across it.

• I could have made a nice cup of tea using the bottle of water that had been left in the car while I ran errands.
  

• The halls in our condo building don't have any ductwork for heating or cooling. This afternoon I walked from our second floor unit down to the basement to toss the trash. By the time I got back upstairs I was sweaty.

• Shortly before I went to bed, the temperatures was still 88°, and with the heat factor added in it felt like 99°.

Distressing

This morning when I put on a pair of denim shorts I noticed that they were getting pretty rough looking. The top layer of the hem is starting to fray, and there are fray holes (approximately a quarter-inch wide) by the rear pockets and halfway down the outer right seam.

I've had these shorts for years; they're one of my favorite pairs. The natural waist hits at just the right spot. The length is perfect-not too short and not too long. The five pockets (two front, two rear, and a small one inside the right front hip pocket) are well-proportioned and functional.

I thought about putting the shorts in the Goodwill box, but based on what I've seen in the stores after a couple more washings and wearings they might actually become fashionable:

You pay extra for flaws this season

Five years ago: Midnight Moonlight

Distractible

On any given Sunday the Catholic Mass readings are the same worldwide, which means that every Catholic will hear the same sections of the Bible. Except for when they don't. 

Shortly after Hubby Tony and I slid into our pew this morning the lector announced that it was the feast day of St. Louis King of France (the patron saint of the city). All of the churches in the Archdiocese were celebrating the day instead of using the readings for the Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time. The lector pointed out that the passages was not in the missal, and we would need to pay extra attention as they were read.

I understand things better when I can read along, but I focused my attention on the pulpit and did my best. However, there was a family with three young boys (who looked to be approximately 6, 4, and 2) in my peripheral vision that kept distracting me. I could tell they were trying hard to sit quietly, but every once in a while they would poke at each other. Mom or Dad would send a glare in their direction, but soon they would be at it again.

At the conclusion of the readings the priest stepped into the pulpit to give the homily. I really tried to focus all my attention there, but it was impossible to concentrate. The middle young boy was trying to look at some books he pulled out of his mom's purse, but his younger brother was getting in the way. It looked like things were getting a little tense, so I closed my eyes to avoid looking at them and focus on the priest's words. I was far enough back that I was confident he couldn't see me and assume I was snoozing.

However, someone was watching. At the end of the sermon I opened my eyes and found that the middle boy was looking at me with a big smile on his face. Oops!

Five years ago today: A Dog's Life

The Hunt For Pastries

Last week Hubby Tony and I started the chapter in our scavenger hunt book for Kirkwood. Most of the things we had to find were convenient to the city's downtown area, but we're finding that each chapter has a couple of outlier locations. This time one of them was the Nathaniel Reid bakery, which has won a bunch of prestigious local and national awards. The bakery is in a strip mall on Manchester Road just a couple of miles from our house. I've driven past it hundreds of times, but never been inside. Tony and I decided we were going to combine a trip to check the bakery off of the list with a trip inside for a sweet treat. 

Manchester is a busy arterial road, and I think I missed every stop light. In the bakery there were several people ahead of us in line, but that gave me a chance to check out all the delectable-looking things behind the counter. I kept changing my mind until it was my turn to order. After we paid for our things we drove to a nearby park, found a bench in the shade, and dug in.

My Veronique pastry was a delightful combination of sponge cake, creamy cheese, mousse, and black currants. It was beautifully composed, and probably photo worthy, but I was hungry and dug in. Tony's chocolate croissant had layers of flaky dough and chocolate, with slivered almonds sprinkled on top. It didn't take long until there was nothing but crumbs left.

Five years ago today: Color Coding

Mended

Hubby Tony had a minor same-day procedure scheduled at one of our local hospitals today. 

He had to be there at 6 am. For the first time in months I set my alarm, which went off a little before 5. That gave me just enough time to eat a quick breakfast, brush my teeth, put together a lunch, and gather the things I would need to entertain me for a couple of hours. 

It was still completely dark when we left for the hospital, and traffic was light. It's often hard to find a spot in the parking garage but this morning I snagged a spot not too far from the door. Once in the building Tony knew exactly where to find the same-day surgery office because he had been there last week for a pre-procedure Covid test.

Between the two of us we've only had a handful of procedures, but in my experience they build in a lot of waiting time. Tony checked in as scheduled, but didn't leave for the operating room until two hours later. During that time he talked to a secretary, a nurse assistant, two nurses, an anesthesiologist, and the doctor. I lost count of the number of times he gave his complete name and date of birth and what type of procedure he was having done.

Because of Covid the same-day surgery waiting room was closed. Once they wheeled Tony out of the pre-op room I spent the next 2 1/2 hours killing time. I walked outside until it got too hot, then sat in my car and read for a while. Eventually I went to the cafeteria, where the people waiting there outnumbered the people eating. 

I got a call from the doctor when the procedure was finished at 9:30, and he told me I would receive another call when Tony had been moved to a recovery room. That happened about an hour later. I gathered up my things and went to join him

Tony was drinking some cranberry juice and eating crackers when I arrived. The post-op system is just as slow moving as the pre-op, and it was made worse when Tony's body took longer to pass through some basic milestones before they could discharge him. 

However, eventually the nurse called the doctor, explained the situation, and got his permission to send Tony on his way. He was putting on his clothes when I left to get the car. By the time I drove around to the door Tony had been 'chauffeured' out by a wheelchair porter. He climbed in the car and we were on our way home.

Five years ago today: Off To The Halls Of Knowledge

Good Old Andy

Sent to me by a friend..

A man walked out to the street and caught a taxi just going by. He got into the taxi, and said, "Perfect timing. You're just Like Andy."

Cabbie: "Who?"

Passenger: "Andy Sullivan. He's a guy who did everything right all the time. Like your coming along when I needed a cab, things happen like that to Andy Sullivan, every single time."

Cabbie: "There are always a few clouds over everybody."

Passenger: "Not Andy Sullivan. He was a terrific athlete. He could have won the Grand Slam at tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star and you should have heard him play the piano. He was an amazing guy."

Cabbie: "Sounds like he was something really special."

Passenger: "There's more. He had a memory like a computer. He remembered everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which foods to order and which fork to eat them with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and the whole street blacks out. But Andy Sullivan, he could do everything right."

Cabbie: "Wow. Some guy then."

Passenger: "Yep, and he really knew how to treat a woman. He would never answer her back even if she was in the wrong; and his clothing was always immaculate, shoes highly polished too. He was the perfect man! He never made a mistake. No one could ever measure up to Andy Sullivan."

Cabbie: "An amazing fellow. How did you meet him?"

Passenger: "Well, I never actually met Andy. He died. I'm married to his damned widow."

Five years ago: Give Me A Shot

Southpaw Point Of View

Boynton

I'm one of the 10 percent of the population that's left handed. Because we're such a minority a lot of things don't work as well for us. All of them are first world problems, but really annoying.

• Ergonomic scissors have the wide and skinny blades upside down when you hold them in your left hand and you can't see where you're cutting.
  

• Any chair with an attached desk has the desk on the right hand side.

• I have to choose my spot carefully at a restaurant so I don't have a right-left elbow war with the person next to me.

• If I'm using a pen with slow drying ink I'll drag the side of my hand through it, and both my hand and the paper end up smeared.

• Spiral notebooks are hard to use, because the spiral part gets in the way. So is paper inside a three ring binder.
  

• The ounce measurements on glass measuring cups are only visible when you hold them with your right hand.
  

• The number keypad on my computer keyboard is on the right hand side. I either have to reach over or use my right hand to input the numbers.
  

• Way back when I learned how to use a mouse no one told me there was an option to reverse the buttons to make it work left-handed. I figured out how to do it with my right hand (and still do).