Keystrokes Amongst Old Folks

I've written nearly 7,000 words in the past seven days, so clearly the inspiration to string a series of words together is still there. Or here. Or somewhere. So yes, a flurry of activity utilizing virtual pen and paper… some of which I shall reveal here, right before your eyes.

By the way, I am officially stocked with medical supplies, probably enough so to last through the end of this calendar year. Yes, I am fully loaded. So thanks to the people who I have already thanked. I am now officially asking that nobody send any more supplies! My side of the room is absolutely full (including my nightstand, dresser drawers, and especially the floor in the corner of my room). Perhaps I need a plant of some sort, maybe a geranium!?

No no no I'm just kidding. There are already enough things dying here, in the nursing home. And sadly, that includes Jeff. If you remember, he was my first and original roommate.

I happened to have hung out with him recently at one of the group events (perhaps it was six weeks ago, before the covid-19 lockdowns came back into play).

And we sat in the cafeteria discussing this and that. And he seemed to be in a good place. He was very positive-minded and personable. And perhaps even jovial. He looked pretty damn good, having lost a fair amount of weight. Good color, too. But the best sign of all was that he was being manually moved around by staff (in a wheelchair), after having been strictly bed bound for the duration of his stay up to that point.

So, farewell to Jeff. I'm glad I got to see him happy, joyous, and free on that one particular day - smiling all over the place.

Dialing Back into Late Last Week

Note: The following issue was resolved, but..

The nursing home decided to cancel my upcoming appointments with the gastroenterologist (I've been waiting 4 months on that one) and the oral surgeon, because Mercy Care said —-- ummm … redacted / removed several paragraphs because, nobody needs to read about the logistical administrative crap that got resolved anyway, right? Each of you is likely dealing with your own red tape. I did leave a few snippets behind for cohesive purposes. So feel free to use your imagination.

3 … 2 …. 1 …

Anyway, I spent the morning being angry as hell. But now I'm merely simmering. Angrily. Bubbling beneath the surface. Which is a vast improvement versus me dropping f-bombs at the top of my lungs. Why not, though?

Note: I've gone blammo on maybe … three separate occasions (here at the nursing home). And each time, the results have been favorable. I do not enjoy "losing it" but sometimes that's the only way to get things done in an institution such as this.

Resolute

Somehow miraculously that got resolved. The issue. It took about four hours. Four angry hours (on my end) until they were able to come back to me with the preferred outcome set in place. Of course on the next day, and not trusting the results, I followed up with the assigned transport company myself. I wanted to confirm that next week's appointment was all set up. So I called them. On the phone. And the people of the transport company answered the phone. It sounded like a woman. And she talked like a woman. And she had womanly qualities. But who knows, she may have been a part-time aardvark in disguise. Or an unsung armadillo.

So I asked this entity to confirm the details regarding my scheduled transport. And she starts reading off the time, the date, and the destination. The destination? Yes! Something was off. Something was way wrong.They were sending me out to Apache Junction.

Do any of you know where Apache junction is located? Well, probably not. If you are facing the Phoenix (and vicinity) map directly, it's way off to the lower right side. And sometimes (because it's so far away) it's not even on the map! Nope, most of the time it's not in our vicinity! Nobody ever goes to Apache Junction on purpose, unless they're trekking to annual Renaissance Festival event.

There's nothing particularly wrong with that locale. It's kind of nice. Kind of neat. Nestled up against the Superstition Mountains. And sure, they've had lots of flooding issues of late. Flooding problems. Flash floods careening down the hillsides, crushing the village below. But that's the sort of thing I find interesting. Hydrology. The power of nature. Flow-things. Earth science things.

Anyway, I corrected the misinterpretation. And also made sure the outfit could accommodate my partially reclined wheelchair transport. Yes, the womanly woman suggested they could. And she also recommended I call her directly anytime I need medical transport (in the future), rather than going through the nursing home staff.

So I told her, "As long as you don't kill me on this initial jaunt into South Scottsdale, I may willingly and once again utilize your services."

She chuckled, because that was the right thing to do (in a customer service sense). And I think each of us should strive to do the right thing. Why wouldn't we?

Hmmm…

Well, let's get into that - the people who strive to do the wrong thing…

Here at the nursing home, we are in lockdown. But there are non-believers amongst us. That unfortunately includes staff members.

Why is that a problem? It's because the staff members wield the power of truth. And justice. And the American Way©.

So yes, the staff members are high on the totem pole of expected truth telling. Although, it can be a rough climb if you're starting at the base. And each of the residents are situated that way. Stuck down below, yet rarely striving, as most are incapable of doing so.

Here's the thing - the nursing home entity cannot legally quarantine residents at, or within, the nursing home. Basically, if you do not wish to participate in the quarantine, and if you do not wish to wear a mask, you don't have to. They aren't going to throw you in jail.

And so, some of the residents have figured this out. Two in particular.

One of these guys is the thief. He's the one that goes into other people's rooms (or the offices here) and steals things. Expensive things. Heck, the police have been called out a couple of different times. But the police can't do anything. Because really, he never leaves the building with the stolen items. So the staff retrieves the goods, and if they can, returns the goods to wherever they came from. But frequently, they cannot identify from which area or which room they came.

Anyway, he's one of the guys that openly parades around the village, not caring a wee bit that we are under quarantine. Or that we have positive Covid-19 cases in our unit. Which I suppose, isn't surprising, based upon his thieving ways. All for one, and all for one's self.

Then there's the guy on the red scooter. My "almost'' roommate.

Last week they gave me the option of having either Red Scooter Guy move in with me, or Angry Raspy Guy. And I chose Red Scooter Guy because he's not angry. I already had Angry Jeff (rest in peace). Apparently Red Scooter Guy did not want to move in with me. And neither did Angry Raspy Guy. I did not take it personally, as they likely have their reasons. Everybody has reasons, plays the angles, or has excuses.

Anyway, I've still got my room to myself. And that's fine by me. While the other two still have each other.

Oh, another thing about Red Scooter Guy that you need to know. He and his girlfriend moved here at the same time from a different nursing home. A location down the street. Apparently they were having relationship issues due to Red Scooter Guy having had a couple of additional girlfriends on the side, and Blue Scooter Girl not liking that. As a result, there was drama. Multiple women fighting over their Red Scooter prize. So the Scooter Twins defected. And despite both of her unit being in quarantine, they both cross-contaminate… so that they may openly love, honor, and cherish each other all across the nursing home village.

They are both in their 50s. Or 60s. Or something. And I guess love is all that really matters. You know?

People want what they want. And I am likely that way as well, regarding certain situations and scenarios. But then also, there are staff members here who directly contribute to the delinquency of elderly residents.

The Inside Dirt

Okay, I won't turn this into a political matter, but there is a prominent staff member who doesn't believe in anything - including covid, any type of science, nor much logic. Unless… it suits her needs and desires. And apparently, I am one of her needs and desires. Go figure. Ha!

Well, she's been encouraging me to break the law of the land. And she's also been encouraging others to push the boundaries. She doesn't feel that any of us should be wearing masks (especially including staff members). And she openly suggests this to all who will listen. The problem being, some of these elderly folks are easily persuaded, especially by all-knowing staff members, such as she. I mean, that's the point. The staff have been hired to protect and serve.

Eh, I won't get deep down deep into the nitty gritty, but one of the higher ups is aware of the situation(s).

And that's that. End Part I.

I apologize if it seems I'm complaining a lot. This is my attempt to simply lay it all out across the floor. Feel free to join the puzzle pieces together as you see fit. Overall, things are positive and working themselves out the way they need to right now. And mostly, I practice acceptance, regarding all matters. And I hope you are finding your way through your daily obstacles as well.


Take care everybody,
Howard


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Comments

You really, really have such an … eh…INTERESTING:nervous:…..life!
Those adventure trips half around the world….?
They might just live in a nursing home, :cool:
and they’ll get all the drama they could possibly want for free…:wide-eyed:
 
Well, @Howard, it was good to receive an upbeat response (if I may class such things) from you. Really sorry about your appt. yesterday though.....I was hoping to have a report today. So when are this specialist and the dentist to converge? The Halloween moon sounds good.

Good man for keeping your cool. A few expletives, especially if you're the only one in a room, certainly won't hurt anyone. So get your wheelchair, an oil can and get ready to take off. Certainly that hasn't also been cancelled, has it?

What happened to Jeff? Once again, I'm sorry.....seem to say that a lot, right, but glad you caught him in a good moment, a memorable one.

I have no idea how anyone who is supposedly in the sciences can/does encourage patients not to wear masks. Could be laziness on her part....a good excuse for not using her own. I hope she's seeing patients at the other end of the hallway....and now we have monkey pox on top of it all! Take heart though, it isn't as dangerous as COVID. Although we'll soon be in line for two more vaccines.

You need a roomful of geckos to keep you occupied. Personally, I'm very fond of them and anything that helps with mosquitoes is manna from heaven.

OK....old chipper, stay that way. Yours, Lenora P.S. First Sentence....I have no idea how I managed to type what I did, but a correction was made. Do hope you're managing & it's good to hear that you have plenty of supplies. I don't think a lone geranium is going to do much as a disguise., unfortunately.
 
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Jeff. I feel like I also knew Jeff. Because your shared with us.

And its nice to hear he was doing well, there the last time you saw him.

Celebration of the Life of Jeff. Maybe he is now floating around, Life of Pi. Renamed, Richard Parker.

...It took me a while to read this, being ME challenged.

Calling the police over the man who steals likely isn't a worthwhile enterprise.

Instead, a simple detective service.

"Missing Anything"? Make note here

"If we find it, we'll let you know"....bulletin.

its sort of fascinating, the optional pandemic we share. I will not be wearing a mask for more than twenty minutes. So where does that leave me?

I am mostly thinking about el Jefe. He was sighted, after seven years.

The northern most known Jaguar- that previously strolled around in Arizona.

Thinking about the jaguar, he is likely a bit frustrated, like you. He looks for a girl. And she is not likely to show up, in the far north. (which here, is far south)

A female jaguar in the north, has'nt been seen since the 1960s.

But they dream. so El Jefe maybe can also dream one up.

meanwhile perhaps jaguar can be sighted, heading to Apache Junction. Yet that does not really sound like a location with dentists. There is a sign up the hwy, and it points to an Apache Canyon (absolutely zero apaches, here). I"d heard about it, but somehow over thirty years, never managed to go there.

Oh, I'll dream a field trip.
 
Hey, thanks @Rufous McKinney. "And when we were young and fair...." Great pic, and yes, great hair. That's Jess with such blonde, blonde hair?

Where exactly were you going? I think big hair has almost always been around....I can certainly remember it in different forms at almost ever stage of my life. Then there were also those who wore their locks straight....they were "in" too. Then the precision cuts which were a lot of upkeep.

If you read about the wigs of the women in the courts of France, they're really disgusting. Mice and all in them! So, yes, however short your memory is, there's always big hair on many, including ourselves. Yours, Lenora
 
That's Jess with such blonde, blonde hair?
yes that is the official tow head....she was so BLONDE!

My best friend the hairdresser had just done my hair: layered. the Shag I think we called it.

I was headed to a giant fundraiser we organized. A huge extravaganza, rock bands and a pavilion. Me in a donated Tuxedo. I gave a lecture at the rock performance. !00s of people came, and lot so them got in for free, thanks to being friends with The Rock Bands.
 
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Sorry, I only have about 12 pictures of myself (what were they called before they were called selfies?) from back in the 80s and '90s - and this is the closest I could get to (your) 1988.

So this is 1990, when I lived at the trailer park with my former bass player (and a host of intermittent others crashing about the place).

As I was not gainfully employed, I mostly relied upon food donations brought over by underage girls in and around the neighborhood. Of course, when not stealing food from their own parent's cupboards, they often talked their mother's into feeding me. You know how mothers are, right? Arby's roast beef with a side of potato cakes was pretty much the norm. Or a Whopper with cheese from Burger King. Otherwise, I'd have to hitch a ride to the Mormon food bank over in Mesa, if I wanted to eat with any regularity. Also note that we did not have a running refrigerator in the trailer. Or a shower. Well, we had a shower, but it was used for something else.

I did, however, work the occasional temp job - the best being employed as a dishwasher at the huge Motorola complex on Mcdowell. The reason why that was the best job in the universe is that they would feed the kitchen staff after the rest of the employees finished their meals in the cafeteria.

But the first day that I worked there, no one told me that we would be comped a meal. So as the first trays
came around on the conveyor belt, I grabbed a half-eaten hamburger, and was ready to take a bite (yes, I was literally starving at the moment) when the lead dishwasher girl caught me before I could munch down, explaining that we would be given free food at the end of our shift.

Of course, she told the rest of the kitchen staff what almost happened. And when it came time for my meal, the regular staff loaded down multiple places food for me, and also gave me a take-home bag, too. Of course, without having a running refrigerator at home, a fair amount of food went to waste.

I worked there for about 2 weeks before the no-longer-pregnant-dishwasher-lady came back to work.
 
So this is 1990,
oh wow your just made to produce dreadlocks over time- what gorgeous curls.

Sorry, I only have about 12 pictures of myself (what were they called before they were called selfies?) from back in the 80s and '90s - and this is the closest I could get to (your) 1988.
Oh Howard, you were definitely Big Trouble.

"Will Work For Food"

I actually met dumpster divers's the 1968 version. I'd drive the 57 chevy and they would do the diving.

That guy (this older hippie) actually believed in filing the car all the way up with gasoline. He bought me a whole tank of gasoline. It was truly remarkable.

I mostly relied upon food donations brought over by underage girls in and around the neighborhood.
You probably had to string chain up across the front door. Once word got out about the two of you over at the Trailer, and a little Hungry.


Reminds me (everything does) ....of my road trip to Montana with two guys, a Volkswagen van, and a couple of black labs. And some Do Not Sleep aids.....

We landed out side Spokane, at the KOA campground. And the entire brigade of underaged juveniles scoped out our tent. (and my Two Guys). (we were 20)

Went to the Worlds Fair. I recall- almost nothing of that fair. The scene at KOA was much more entertaining.
 
If you read about the wigs of the women in the courts of France, they're really disgusting. Mice and all in them! So, yes, however short your memory is, there's always big hair on many, including ourselves. Y
crazy, wigs.

I was inside the Wig Shop in Williamsburg Virginia in 1962 and they had to drag me out of the shop.

This seems to be the story of my life in History. I will want to near the entire thing, I want to know ALL about it, and I won't ever want to leave the museum.

Night At the Museum is rather perfect. The idea of it.

Ah yes, the fight with my friends, traveling. I wished to visit the historic church, but my friend wished to purchase t-shirts. A major disagreement on a group vacation ensued.

I was left in tears. One of my friends, went to the museum church with me. The rest refused, and bought t-shirts.
 
Once word got out about the two of you over at the Trailer, and a little Hungry.
Ha! When you're 20 years old you can get away with not eating for several days in a row. Or not sleeping.

Heck, in my 30s, I could still get away with not sleeping, but a healthy diet became warranted and necessary.

And now, in combination with this illness, if I don't sleep at least 6 hours I'm absolutely doomed!

In regards to dumpster diving, I furnished my entire apartment with found items (in and around my parents neighborhood) way back when. As they lived in North Scottsdale, the residents were prone to just tossing out valuable and sometimes unused items they no longer found appealing... cuz they likely had money pouring out of their eyeballs.
 
When you're 20 years old you can get away with not eating for several days in a row. Or not sleeping.
It was when I did not sleep for 36 hours once...(drive from Victoria BC back to Chico Ca ...with the scientists)...that I met up with a microwave oven which emitted sonic wavelengths which I could hear inside my brain....

In regards to dumpster diving, I furnished my entire apartment with found items (in and around my parents neighborhood) way back when
My dumpster diving friends: wow nobody was doing THAT back then. They discovered culled produce (everybody vegan then)

But later? College town: you pull up to the dumpsters in June and can completely outfit the house...TVs, matching bone China, extravagant antique sofas.....

Decades later, I have a complete set of attractive dishes, from the college student dumpster UC Santa Cruz.
 
@Howard...Seeing those lovely curls of yours made me remember my first (and only) perm, back in the 80s. Done by Peter Frampton's hairdresser (Peter often brought his dog to a vet hospital where I worked, for baths after he went after yet another skunk), she never told me not to brush my hair the way I used to. Needless to say, I brushed my new curls almost immediately and turned my new Frampton-esque curls into a horrible friz that I was forced to live with for the summer.

I've never been one for great vanity...never quite caught on to the basic rules....
 

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