on being the bug

Considering that I wasn't just murdered in Paris I'd say life is good.  I slept for 13 hours and actually feel like working on the mess that is my house.  Yesterday I did some surface work down at Mama's to get ready for whatever comes next.  Cousin Mo is on a cruise ship with her recently clotted up husband, doing fine  thanks to blood thinners.  As a Vietnam vet, he has suffered with a lot of post-war health problems.  Agent Orange and all that.  Mom is back in her groove and at church with Carney, maker of the world's finest pimento cheese.  Had I woken up in time I probably would have gone to early service.  That's more my speed.

With the Cadi dead (again) it's looking like I need to find a reliable used car which is difficult when you are in BK.  The trustee must give permission and since I have two ( kinda' sorta') it's a nono.  As I watched Patterson Brothers load it up one last time for a diagnosis on Monday, I marveled at  how many times we have used a wrecker service JUST this year.  They know us by name and know that we'll pay but it's becoming more and more difficult to get where you need to go around here.  I guess I could always call a taxi like Mama did.

I've been sitting on a monetary gift for several months now, knowing that eventually the shit would hit the fan and I'd need it.  I have squandered too much cash over the years by not paying attention to spending habits or keeping up with balances.  Y'all would die if you knew how much I paid in OD fees just this year.    That I am not fighting those battles anymore is something I can thank BAD and Liz for.  I actually had to get my hearing moved two weeks when he died because of funeral prep.  You can't make this stuff up.

As we were leaving  the FH that day word came in that a well known farmer had passed.  And then people just kept on dying.......I'm not real sad about Daddy anymore because I know the quality of life he had and it wasn't good.  He was OCD and defiant to the very end, at least until he hit the ER that Sunday night.  Then, he just laid back and let the morphine work.  Sometime during the night I went home and changed into scrubs, knowing that I'd have to report to work about the time he was admitted.

What followed was six weeks of chronic elder care which involves passing back and forth from SNF to hospital and over again.  The surgery department was "lightly staffed" meaning the boss was on vacation.  Dr. Anesthesia is pretty impressed with the way we cover their backs with blood and such and I stomped my little feet until the surgeon did something...like anything.  He was put to sleep three times, held NPO more than that and died of a lung condition that results from too much you know what.   Plus sepsis.

This is what I do for a living...diagnostics and patient care.  During my career I've seen the laboratory go from boiling test tubes to almost full automation.  The big dogs like Quest run brazillions of tests every year often over ordered by physicians desperate to cover their ass  for a diagnosis.  Specimens are picked up by car in designated areas and taken to Memphis for transport overnight to Chantilly or Atlanta or Egypt.  Thank you FedEx!  The state of Tennessee runs a lab in Nashville that performs PKU testing and monitors things like reportable diseases.  We do not have Medicaid because the Republicans won't allow it.  I did, however, read today that the state coffers have 300 plus million in the black for our budget.  Probably from lottery.

Anybody who has a grandma that just lost her keys, let me know if she has a car that just got driven to church.  Let's manifest this kids ^j^