Tuesday, April 25, 2017

I don't even know what "day" it is anymore...

So yesterday, I froze my ass off in the local hospital ER. You read that already. If you didn't, shame on you. What kinda friend/follower are you, if you're not reading me semi-daily? C'mon!


I awoke 8-ish, after hitting the sack just shy of 1:00. I missed my non-Fitbit thingy's step challenge by 800-ish steps (fuck it), and I missed my non-Fitbit thingy's bedtime by 8 minutes (fuck YOU, non-Fitbit thingy! You're not the boss of me!)

Came downstairs 9-ish and almost immediately heated the second half of the can of corned beef hash, because STARVING. Offered Daddy a bite; he hedged a bit, saying, well, I can just make myself an egg salad thing in a bit; this of course meant I would be sharing. #IHadToLearnMyPassiveAggressiveManipulationSkillsFromSomeone!

Shared the hash. Finished yesterday's big ol' Los Angeles mug of French Press cold mocha, with a Boost protein shake added in for good measure. Was #ReallyGladISharedTheHash, and #SaidSo.

Checked the mail... found the package of Boost Daddy had ordered a day or two ago, which *apparently* also contains a pulse-oxymeter, which tells you a numbered-scale (it can't be a percentage, but it is on a scale of 100) of oxygen you're getting in your bloodstream. Yesterday, in the ER, his pulse-ox stayed in the high-90's, and I even saw a 100 for one beat. We haven't opened the box yet, so we have no idea if the thingy's even in it.

Got dressed and went for a walk. I wanted to see how many steps away the pool is. It's about 5k, round-trip. So even if I continue to not care about getting 10k daily steps, if I walk to the pool and back, with a bit of water-treading, then I'm still doing okay with my personal health.

Got back and checked the mail. Multiple times. I have new penpals in @TheBloggess ' Twitter followers, and I'd brought 3 letters I received with me to reply to, but I knew there was at least one letter/card on the way, in c/o Daddy. There was an a/c repairman in bff's driveway, and the garage door was open. WTF? Met the "other" neighbors, who, like Daddy, keep an eye on bff's condo. Apparently, I'd met them a decade ago and didn't remember. I was here a decade ago for Mommy. Sue me for not remembering (they forgave me already, so you don't really have to sue me).

Got the letter/card I was expecting. Daddy got dressed and went next door to check that errything was okey-dokey. He was over there for a bit, but now that he was dressed, we decided to snag the golf cart and head to the driving range.

We took a #1 driver and a #3 fairway wood (iron), a brush tee, and a single glove, jumped in the golf cart, and toodled over to the driving range. Daddy's plan was to "rent" a bucket of balls, but not really hit more than 6 today. He hit 2 off the tee (poorly, IMO) with the 3, and then smacked the hell outta 2 off the tee with the driver. Then, since we hadn't brought over with us a stool of any kind, he leaned/sat on the bag stand that the "course" had provided. After a coupla good deep breaths (and my reminder to sit up straight with his head up), he went back to the tee/"fairway". Hit four really lovely shots with the #3 wood, and then came back to the bag stand to rest. Then he hooked two shots off the tee with the driver, and he was done. 10 shots, not 6! I was really happy with that.

We hid the bucket and drove the cart home. Sat here bingeing Doctor Who ("Smith and Jones" and "The Shakespeare Code") and consumed a little alcohol, proteins, and carbs. We have discussed the need for him to binge the Harry Potter films (actors that he loves, that is the only reason), and we will likely binge a bit more Doctor Who before bedtime tonight (UPDATE: currently on "Gridlock").

Today has been both relaxing and productive. He's got a follow-up appointment with Dr. Cooke on Friday; I dropped off his Rx but we haven't heard back from CVS to pick it up yet; we've both been physically active, and we've both "caught up" on our personal "catch-up" stuff. And it's not even 6 p.m. !!!

I intend to SLEEP this good night, at a reasonable hour, and then GET UP at a reasonable hour tomorrow, to be productive again. Whaddyougot?


  1. Sounds like your Dad is a better golfer than me. We went to a place called Top Golf a few weekends ago where they have multiple levels of open bays where you can hit micro-chipped golf balls out onto the driving range and try to hit targets. It was quite comical. However, they serve food and alcohol right to your bay so it worked for me. However, I do somewhat question the safety level of inebriated golfers hacking away three stories up. There is a safety net below the bay but I am sure I could manage to miss that thing on the way down.

    1. Daddy is a golfer who has allowed his health to keep him off the course for probably the last 2 years or so.

      We really don't need table service while we're trying to get him back in shape!


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