Star date 29082016
Though it is my T2’s birthday today, it is…as the picture implies, a day for happy poop (Karen’s favorite emoji. I have a fitbit. I wear said Fitbit, at this point, to see how long I sleep. Yes, I realize a Fitbit has a bevy of real, exercise-type uses, alas, I use it to see how long I sleep. Why? About a year or more ago, I started having foot pain. In an effort to stay active, well…I remained somewhat active. I walked. I got up at 0445 and walked. I liked getting 11,000 steps a day…or more. Now…not so much. The foot pain has, albeit temporarily, put a halt to my daily walking. More on that shortly. Alas, I still wear the Fitbit and it still vibrates on my wrist at 0445, every week day. Today it did so and I was not happy about waking up, but got out of bed anyway. Emails for work, Angry Birds, app updates…all important things that could not wait any longer, had to be done. That, and it takes grandpa a little while for his bones to warm up. Oh yeah, did I mention I’ve had a headache for a few months? Yes, the same one. No, it does not come and go.
Fast-forward a couple hours. I am seeing an orthotic specialist this morning. No, not for my brain. The initial ‘medical issue’ that sent me in to a string of doctor’s appointments, has me going to a follow up appointment for some much needed relief for my feet…specifically and currently, my left…although my right is starting to act similarly. I digress. I arrive at the window, fill out the appropriate paperwork, sit down, stand up…fight, fight, fight…wait…no. The gal calls me up to let my know the good news:
“Mr. Skyless is it?”
“Yes…that is it.”
“Mr. Skyless, the custom orthotics you are getting imprinted for today cost about 541 dollars; however, your insurance is covering 210 dollars, leaving you with 331 dollars for me to collect today at the end of your appointment.”
Immediately I am going to take Charlie for a test-ride here. I am in sales, after all. At least that’s what I get paid to do.
“Ma’am, are you in the in network?”
“Yes, we are. I checked online this morning, and it shows you still owe on your deductible.”
“Well, I paid my deductible about two weeks ago, so I am unclear as to why I owe anything.”
“Well, Mr. Skyless, you can call your insurance and see what is going on but I would need to collect the 331 dollars today and if you have paid your deductible, then we would refund you later.”
Slight laughter…pause for effect while Charlie enters from stage right….
“Ma’am, I gotta tell you…I was diagnosed with a brain tumor last week…”
Look of horror and literally both hands up to cover her mouth.
“So you can understand why my foot just doesn’t seem to matter a whole lot right this second, and I can just reschedule to come back at a later time.”
“Oh, Mr. Skyless, I am so sorry. Let me make a phone call and see if I can’t find out how to clear this up.”
That is how my day started. Charlie 1. Rest of the idiots 0. Go Kevin, it’s your birthday. Well, actually it is Sam’s birthday. I texted her a birthday bitmoji at 0445. Why? Because I am an a**hole.
My day was not really filled with many other feelings…as I apparently stated this would be about such things. My head is both literally (okay…potentially …or allegedly works here as well) and figuratively, killing me. I had ambitious thoughts of mowing the vast grasses of our retirement community residence. Meh. I got the string trimmer out instead. Wrestle with changing the “easy spool” thread…why wrestle? Well…unlike most, I read the instructions and follow them. To no avail on this fine day. Why?
How does a doctor put 9 stitches in a ‘C’ shape, at the end of my most favorite of digits?
Needless to say…thus, I am saying it, the finger did not help in re-spooling the trimmer. After several, unsuccessful attempts at inserting the trim line and rotating clockwise, only to have the trimmer head spew orange plastic all over the driveway, I reinserted and rotated counterclockwise. Bingo. Yahtzee. Weeeeee have a wiener. Edge trimming done. On to the next. Trimmer away. Commence pain medicine. Today’s choice? Slaughterhouse.
Fast-forward. I did the Face-time with Tiny Sammer’s…who folded laundry in preparation for her night out. Curiously, she would hold up an occasional piece of clothing and sniff it. For me, it begs the question: who mixes clean and dirty clothes? Apparently my Tiny Sammers. Next, I did the Face-time with T1 (Casey), Pasqual (chihuahua), Mowgli (random colored person…wait…Corgi), with cameos by Logan (our first granddaughter), and Miguelito (son-by-law). As we are planning a visit out to the NorCal, we are tidying up plans to cram in seeing and doing as much as we can in our short visit out Westerly.
Final thoughts, feelings, blah, blah, blah? Most of my pre-surgery thoughts today consisted of waking up afterward and having a brand new headache. I am not looking forward to that. Jess has a longtime, family friend that she grew up with. Kate, I believe her name is. …anywhozalbees, Kate apparently has a friend who had a similar sized, shaped, placed tumor. Upon removal…sorry…debulking…she struggled with chewing and swallowing for a couple weeks (movie quote: “I’ve never said this before, but don’t swallow.”). Also something I would not be looking forward to. What I am looking forward to is waking up. Scheduling my f’ing foot surgery for sometime around Christmas. …maybe not. No other game-changing thoughts today. I am looking forward to seeing my girls. Holding my baby (granddaughter). I am filled with thoughts of what else should I be doing to get ready for this? Passwords and logins. Buried treasure. Who gets what. These are everyday thoughts as of late, but today, not so much. Perhaps out of denial…mayhaps more because today ended up far better than it started.
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