Who Knew?

Changing physicians is no easy feat. Mr. Fixit is scheduled in a few weeks for a six months check-up, and he finally made the decision to leave the practice of Dr. Doofus, his cardiologist. I was not looking forward to the process because I simply didn't want to face the prospect of walking into Doofus's office and requesting Mr. Fixit's medical records. Cowardly, aren't I? They put a bit of pressure on us to stay when we had the problem last year when Mr. Fixit had to be admitted to a hospital, and Doofus forgot he was there. I didn't want another confrontation.

Things to be taken into consideration is the insurance accepted by any prospective doctor. We can't go to anyone; he must be in "network" or we pay through the nose. Next is location. While we have two large hospital systems and three smaller systems within 25 miles, we still have to take into consideration the travel time and the facility itself. For instance the three smaller systems do not perform the surgery for the placement of  heart stents.

Most doctors in this area are part of group practices owned by the hospital systems. Since we don't have a large group of friends who might recommend someone, he simply went to the website and picked a name at random. Luckily, the doctor  in "network" is still accepting patients. And they will contact Dr. Doofus to request the medical records. I don't have to do anything.

Another thing to be consider is the timing of the change. You have to be cognizant of the date when your prescriptions expire so that you are not left with no meds in the interim.

Now we are just waiting for the initial paperwork to arrive by mail. Thank goodness, the process is almost over. It's a good thing because Mr. Fixit was driving me nuts about it. He becomes obsessive sometimes about things and doesn't understand why we must wait for others to respond. He wants what he wants NOW! While I am trying to listen to  details on the phone, he is listening to only my side of the conversation, and he starts instructing me as to what to say and then I can't hear what is being explained to me. Aargh!
_______________________________________

Yesterday I had to see the doctor for the results of blood work that was necessary for a new medication that he prescribed two months ago. When he asked me if I were feeling better, I truthfully said I'd noticed no difference. I explained that my insomnia might be the culprit. He suggested a sleep aid. I demurred. He suggested strongly  that I try it. I agreed. (I figured I would get the medication once and then not have it refilled. It's not necessary for my health.) We went to the pharmacy about 6:00 pm to see if it was ready and were told that no prescription had been called in. Even though I don't care whether it was or not, it does make me wonder if I have another Dr. Doofus in the making. Dang!

Another Unusual Sighting at Wal-Mart in Dixie

Before I get into the subject of this post, bear in my that we live in a small southern town with a population of about 2,200 people. I don’t think this number includes the many university students that live here when school is in session. The political climate leans heavily toward extreme conservative right wing views and most people attend Protestant churches. If you want to win an election here, you mention “family values” and you’re a shoo-in.

While the university does provide a more liberal view, there are some things that might raised eyebrows among the intellectual and the liberal arts factions. I like to think of myself as broad-minded. I make no judgments as to the alternative lifestyles of others as long as no one is hurt. I can understand gay marriage, transgender individuals, and cross-dressers. What people do in the privacy of their homes and bedrooms is none of my business.

Today, however, I saw something that I have never seen in the almost 30 years we have lived here. As we leaving Wal-Mart, I noticed an individual in a small car who was quite large. Her head was touching the ceiling of the car. Then I noticed her extremely wide shoulders. Her hair was collar length styled conservatively. Then it hit it me! The person I saw was a man. I called Mr. Fixit’s attention to the person, not because I have any moral reservations, but because I have never seen a cross-dresser or a transsexual going into the little Wal-Mart in our Sarah-Palin-lovin’ corner of the world. I was surprised!

When he stepped out of the car, however, I was ready to call the fashion police. He could have been arrested for a felony ugly outfit. He was no Ru Paul, but, hey, I’m no beauty myself. He could certainly use a little constructive criticism of his fashion choices.  He had on a red blouse with a short (a little above mid-thigh) skirt. He appeared to be wearing a padded bra which was not all that generous, but it appeared that it had those 1960’s pointed cups. Not a nice look. His legs were not made for wearing short skirts. Under the skirt he was wearing black shorts. I didn’t quite get that at all. I think he might have been having a little problem with the shorts since he appears to be correcting a wedgy as he strolled across the parking lot.

The biggest fashion faux pas that I noticed though was his choice of footwear. He wore a tasteful pump with a small heel (1 1/2 inches). It was something I might wear. The problem was—the shoes were brown! Everyone knows that you don’t wear brown shoes with a black shirt. What was he thinking?

Even though I think his outfit could have used a little help, I can’t help but admire the courage it took to be different in this world.

A Cat Tale

We have all read news stories of the brave pet who has saved it’s master from dire circumstances. Family pets (dogs, usually) warn families of the middle-of-night fires, shepherd young children away from busy streets, and save Timmy from the well. This is not one of those stories.

We have been having quite a bit of rain here in South Carolina for the past few days. With the rain comes those horrid five inch four inch three (okay, truthfully) one and one-half inch flying cockroaches called (I think) palmetto bugs. They are big, ugly, and have wings. One always manages to come into the house after every heavy rain causing disgust and some rather earthy language by me.

I was lying on the bed reading and Little Girl was keeping me company. All of a sudden she jumped up and looked at the wall by the dresser. I didn’t see anything. She then jumped off the bed and gingerly crept up to the side of the dresser. I crept up behind her. One of those ugly five inch one and a half inch bugs came running across the wall. Little Girl, the coward, left the room posthaste and I beat a retreat to the middle of the bed.

After determining that I could exit the room without fear of the BUFC (big ugly flying cockroach) buzzing my head or running across my bare foot, I went in search of bug spray. Little Girl was in the computer room peeking at me from around the corner.

Being a good citizen of the world, I bring my own shopping bags to the store and buy eco-friendly (friendly to all except BUFC’s and other assorted insects) bug spray. The only problem is that in order to dispatch any bug larger than an ant, you have to spritz the nasty buggers about 20 times. I had to chase it all over the room. BUFC’s run very fast even after being hit several times with the eco-friendly spray.

In the meantime, Little Girl was watching from the safety of the computer room. I think she was smirking her cat smirk at me.

My other cats loved playing with bugs, not Miss Scaredy-Cat. No-o-o! She simply watched my battle from a safe distance. She wouldn’t come back into the room for a while. I now realize that if I fall into a well, she will be sitting at the top smirking at me, not running for help. On second thought, perhaps she would if it were almost dinner time.

Super Moon?

Our super moon doesn’t seem that much different than our usual full moon. The harvest moon seems much bigger to me. I don't seem to have much luck with viewing celestial events.

This Looks Familiar

Yesterday morning we decided to take a drive. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. We droved to Flat Rock, N. C. and Hendersonville, N. C. Both are touristy towns that feature many art galleries and pottery stores, and Flat Rock boasts a famous playhouse.

We then traveled on a few more miles to Asheville, N.C. I really like this part of the country. I wouldn’t mind living there.

Downtown is busy, busy, busy! There are offices, restaurants, art galleries, and tourists taking in the sights. Traffic was quite heavy. There has been a lot of renewal going on, and it’s quite nice.

We were a little turned around so we stopped to program Ms. TomTom for a little help getting  back on the interstate. Ms. TomTom took us through a neighborhood that we had visited once before—Hookerville  (See Post of Nov. 13, 2010). There it was—the abandoned gas station where the ladies plied their trade in front of God and everybody. Thankfully, it seems they start working later than 11:00 am on weekdays.

I don’t quite understand how we managed to end up there again. We didn’t start out anywhere near where we had been the first time Ms. TomTom calculated our route to the interstate. H-m-m. It’s a puzzle.

Consequences of Citizenship

Once again I have been summoned for jury duty. I have been called to service several times in our city court which handles mostly traffic infractions and the occasional misdemeanor. I have also served as a juror in the university court. They handle infractions that happen on campus--drinking, disturbing the peace, etc. I have served in the county court in a civil matter. There is only one other juror list that I’m aware of and that’s the summons I received Friday. I have an invitation to appear in Federal District Court in June.

At first I thought, before reading the summons, that I was expected to serve in Columbia, SC. That’s a 2 1/2 drive from our house. I was beside myself thinking of all the problems that would cause. When I finally had a chance to read the entire packet, I saw that I’m being asked to appear in Greenville which is only 25 miles away. Still it’s not something I really want to do.

I have never tried to duck this civic responsibility. I’ve found it interesting. Something tells me that in Federal Court whether the case being heard is civil or criminal, it could be deadly dull. I wouldn’t be too interested in listening to a financial fraud case or insider trading.

In the local courts you may asked to be excused if you are over 65 years old. In Federal Court, you have to be 70 to request to be excused. Darn!

As I began to fill out the questionnaire to begin the process, I was wondering how I could answer the questions without lying but perhaps leading to my exclusion.

Question: “Describe the condition of your health:” 

Answer: “"Fair”

Question: “Medical Problems”

Answer: “Diabetes, High Blood Pressure, aching knees, hips, shoulders, elbows, ankles, faulty memory and various other minor afflictions attendant upon persons of my age.”

Question: “Are you a member of MADD, CAVE, or any organization that supports the rights of victims?”

Answer: “No, but I could change my party affiliation to the Republican party if that would get me out of jury duty.”

Question: (This is a real question asked.) “Have you displayed any bumper stickers on your automobile in the last 12 months?”

Answer: “Vote for Santorum,” “Vote for Obama,” “Green Peace,” “Women’s Rights,” “ACLU Sucks.” Okay, this would be a lie, but it might make them think I’m nuts.

The one question and answer that may insure my disqualification is: “Have you or anyone in your family ever worked for a lawyer or law firm?”

Answer: “Yes. I was so employed.”

Of course, I gave factual answers to all the questions instead of the answers I wanted to use. It’s possible that I will be learning more about financial skullduggery or medical malfeasance than I ever wanted to know. I can only hope for an interesting bank robbery case.

Decisions To Be Made

Well, it worked. (See previous post.) The only problem is that I can’t edit the post after it appears on the blog. I suppose that in order to post directly with Blogger or to edit a post, I must use “Chrome.”

Somehow that rankles. I was forced to have a gmail account when Google took over a few years ago. I didn’t want a gmail account. I don’t care for how it works, and I only use it for crap stuff.  I don’t like the idea of Google encroaching on my life any more that it already has. I very seldom use Google for anything other than Blogger and Google maps. I seldom use it as a search engine.

Now I have to decide if I want to be blackmailed into installing their browser or to shut down my blog. I tried to get out of the blogging “business” a few months ago. I feel as if I don’t really have anything worthy of sharing. Sometimes I wonder why anyone would read my musings.

One thing I do know is that I will continue to read all  the people I follow. I can’t just let that go. It’s my tenuous thread to the outside world.

Now I have to think. Google or not to Google.