The days are long, when regular activities are interrupted…as I’ve found with my broken ankle. What to do?
A Ramp and a Camera
My Sony camera has lots of settings that I’ve yet to understand, so why not go outside and try to figure things out? Problem is (or was) that I couldn’t go outside with my electric wheelchair because of the door lintel is a full two inches higher than the outside walkway and I’m not into rapid, uncontrolled descents…
Solution? My husband called our handyman George. Although George is not known for building wheelchair ramps, he loves new challenges and in one short morning, he built a simple ramp for me that works great. Now every morning, I can go outside with my camera and see the full-of-summer-color yard.
Then there is a book I had downloaded some time ago. It’s called “Gulp” by Mary Roach. I had already read the Debbie Reynolds biography, “Unsinkable, A Memoir” which I enjoyed. Much of that book is about Ms. Reynolds’ experience in Las Vegas owning a casino/hotel, and wow, did she have her hands full. Her experience with husbands makes one grateful for the honest and true Chicago husband that has never made the celebrity magazines.
But back to “Gulp.” This is a book about digestion..and all the strange and wonderful things that happen to keep us going. Our personal plumbing has been the subject of quackery, strange practices and eloquent research. The book is painstakingly researched and funny even as it tackles subjects that may have the “ick” factor.
“We’re basically a highly evolved earthworm surrounding the intestinal tract,” one of Roach’s sources says. Is it possible to knock the shit out of somebody? That question is answered. The author also reports something I never knew…that a grazing cow can produce a hundred gallons of methane a day. The book covers so many subjects that you’ll be stopping regularly to tell a companion, “Did you know….”.
A good part of the end of the book deals with very personal bathroom problems, and you will be fascinated by the famous names mentioned in that portion of the book. I loved “Gulp” and can’t wait to talk with friends about the book.
A New Look
On the news front, I received a press release that gives readers a bit of information they may have missed otherwise. The Las Vegas Convention Center has a new paint job. It is now a silver grey color, rather than its former beige. The painting project is one of many improvements made at the convention center over the past year
Back to the Doctor
This week’s trip to the doctor’s office was notable not so much for what the doctor said but for what my husband said, in frustration, as he tried to get the rented non-electric wheelchair out of the trunk of his car.
The wheelchair came with foot rests that needed to be attached. They look rather complex and although my husband was given training at the rental store, he could only figure out how to attach one of the foot rests. I heard lots of grunting and groaning and swearing, and then finally he arrived.
“Here,” he said, “hold this.” It was one of the foot rests. “I’ll figure it out upstairs.” So I rode upstairs with two feet on one footrest and one footrest in my lap. Indeed upstairs one of the guys in hospital gear was able to attach the footrest and re-instruct my husband who now is an expert.
What did the doctor say? He said my bones were still in place, but he mentioned that surgery was always a possibility if I didn’t behave. OK already. I get the message.
I go back to Dr. Scary in another week. I’m following orders and pretending everything left of my belly button is numb. I’m hopping so much on one leg that that leg is starting to tell me it’s being abused, too, and needs some Ben Gay to soothe sore muscles. Shut up, leg. This hopping will go on for several more weeks…and you will perform! Remember, when the going gets tough….
A Birka for Sandy
We have two dogs with different personalities. Our brave fearless dog, Sandy, has a funny quirk. Whenever she can, she likes to stand under fabric. If I’m wearing a nightgown and am standing in the kitchen, she’s soon under my legs with the fabric resting on her back. My husband calls her our Muslim because she must harbor a dream to wear a Birka. Here she is this past week standing under a long tablecloth near the laundry room. She just stands there peering out, waiting for my husband to finish doing the laundry.