By Johanna Mohringer
It is difficult to keep track of time and which day it is. The celebrations for the 4Fourth of July have started and practically everyday something special is going on in the park. Since I am not able to attend many (maybe not even any) of those, this should not affect me. And yet it does. Many things I don’t remember, yet I know for sure I have to get this column out today.
Last week I think I mentioned I have to check if surgery would now be possible for me. The first surgeon, who was strongly recommended, happened not to be in our network and would be too expensive for my pocketbook if I would go in as private-pay patient.
So now we have been looking and may have found somebody else. I was notified that the information was being sent by mail. Well, yes, I got a five-page questionnaire to fill out. (So the information really has to come from me, not them.) They are asking for data, when I had seen a doctor for my back or neck for the first time. I am no historian and I even don’t remember names of different doctors or who said what. I have to get records of that and also bring X-rays and MRI records with me. Thank goodness one of my sons is trying to get things filled out and obtain the requested documents. This goes back about 30 years.
Several neighbors have offered their help in case I have an emergency. Last week I had one at night, but did not have the heart to call any of them. It had been a hot and humid day and the dogs had been panting a lot. Their thick coats don’t help them in the heat. Without any warning, Rusty threw up on the carpet next to my chair. Even in my younger and more active days, I had a problem dealing with this kind of stuff.
Now I really cannot bend down that far and if I would try, there is a good chance I would fall with my face right into that mess. Even the heavy fumes of it made me sick to my stomach. So I moved to my bedroom. My son would not be home from work for at least six hours. He would be tired and, of course, there was a possibility he would step in it and slide and fall. My conscience would not allow that. So half an hour later I was back in the living room, staring at the stinky mess. It still did not look or smell any better. It had by then penetrated through the carpet.
I got out my long handled dustpan and found some cardboard. I sprayed the heap with Pine Sol, a smell I like, and that made me feel a little stronger for the upcoming task. I was able to move most of it into the dustpan, which I then put outside. The rest of the night I spent in my chair, with the lights on to warn my son when he came home. I kept my window open.
My son did the actual scrubbing of the carpet, and I must say it looks good.
It still amazes me how many predicaments one can get into when left alone, unable to do many tasks. It did not bother Rusty at all. He could not stand the smell either, so he slept in the dining room. The dogs can be a problem at times, yet I still like their company.
The baby hummingbirds frequent the feeder. The baby wrens must have matured too. The nest is empty, and I have not seen them return to their homestead in front of my window.
The family of squirrels behind our walls are lively and are in no hurry to leave our house yet. There has even been a new invasion of mice. It might have been too hot for them outside. I cannot blame them and hope they don’t blame me either for catching them in traps.
