But... When I Turn 100....!

No, I'm not actually planning on living that long. Sure, one of my parents nearly made it, but I tend more to take after the other one in a lot of physical ways, so mostly I'm not shooting for much past 90. It seems sufficient enough... at least for now.

Why am I thinking about this? It started with a totally weird letter I got today, claiming I hold two health insurance policies for my Medicare Part D plan. For those who haven't needed to know yet - bless your hearts - that involves coverage for medications.

My first reaction was that this was so improbable that somebody somewhere wasted money on mailing out some new approach to a scam. More of a waste since postage rates just went up. It was just too weird to be anything else. There was a number to call, and they were still open after suppertime (with or without supper, which for me meant without, and not likely until I straightened this out.) So I got out my insurance cards, called the the drug store I do business with because the plan covers their prices, and verified exactly who they have on record as providing my coverage. Yep, exactly who I thought, just one company, and last year's company, whose card I still hadn't cleaned out of my purse for some reason, was no longer providing coverage. OK, it seemed like a reach, but most years I have a few months of deductibles before full pharmacy coverage and this year I haven't had any.  I figured there was a 5% chance I had a problem with paying for overlapping coverage. They verified only one company was paying for my meds.

So I called the company, and will freely admit I started out with an attitude! No nasty words, just plenty of tone. The person on the other end of the line wanted me to verify information. It this was a scam, I wasn't about to give them any. So we went back and forth a couple times - he had remarkable patience - to locate information they should already have if this was an official inquiry. We finally settled that, and found out that the two insurance company names were the same company, same policy, just a name change at the top of the year. Merger maybe? Who knows? I was covered, all I needed to know.

OK, so that wasn't the source of their inquiry. I was directed to a line on the form showing I'd had another company's insurance years ago, and they needed to know if I still carried it. Was I covered in some other way, like at work, or my car insurance?

BINGO !!!  I looked at that date I was supposed to be covered. It was long ago but very quietly rang a niggly bell. I'd never heard of that company, and it wasn't, in fact, my insurance. But the date was the day I had been rear-ended by a school bus, requiring an ambulance ride and a bunch of diagnostic hospital tests. Yes, my neck hurt but at worst it was a little sprain. Back then I had more problems from my shoulders when I had to move my arms out of the way for clear images. That arthritis already was severe back then. That's the part I remembered. The tests were agony! I didn't pay a penny for the imaging, a procedure I can't even get now with my pacemaker. I assume either the school or the bus company had the insurance which covered every penny, and my personal auto insurance company held their feet to the fire until every penny owed was paid. I was never bothered by hearing or reading a name.

Once that was  explained, I assured this company I never actually had that insurance policy, never knew who they were, and was not, in fact, getting double coverage from a second company. Problem solved!

I didn't hang up before verifying that with the two names I did recognize I hadn't been paying them double Part D premiums. Darn it! A tiny part of me was hoping somehow their records had gotten screwed up enough that I'd been being charged double premiums and would get a refund. Sighhhh.... no such luck.

In all this process I had noted one (other) weird thing on their form.  They showed an expiration date on my prescription coverage of what theoretically will be my 100th birthday! As stated above, I don't anticipate that to be an issue. But I wonder if, should I make it that long, do they stop covering my pharmacy needs? Would I need a different company? Policy? Do they reward my potential longevity with free meds after 100?

Yeah, I don't believe that either. It might be fun to check however, if it ever becomes relevant. But right now it's supper time. Hmm, ham sandwich with pepperjack on raisin toast? With or without chive & onion cream cheese? There's almost a teaspoon left of that. Bye!

Progress, Multiple Ways

I'll start with Steve. First, he's needing lower doses of pain meds. He had his post-surgery visit with our primary doc yesterday, and she's happy with his progress, though- as always - warning him about overusing pain meds, meaning narcotics. Tylenol is preferred of course, and both of us are using way less even of that. He hasn't had any Oxy today and he's walking more without the walker. Of course, belt and suspender style, while he walks independently through the house, he has me follow behind keeping his walker just a short distance away, just in case. It sure beats another 911 call after a fall. And wheee, I get exercise too. It's also a great excuse to hit the bathroom of course.

He goes into the kitchen to fix whatever meal appeals to him without his walker now, being a shorter distance, and knowing there is a wheeled office-style chair tucked under the island for whenever he feels either unsteady or tired. It's also very handy for sitting in front of the freezer when he unloads bagfuls of groceries into both freezer and fridge. The lack of pressure to do it speedily means he can keep to his organization plan and knows where, for example, which kind of cheese is. Or make sure the last of the old milk is either still fresh or to be tossed before the new one goes in. Pain isn't influencing his decisions anywhere near as much as even last week.

I'm back in the garden today, the first day in a long time under 90 degrees and/or no hazardous air outside. I had fancy iris delivered about 3 weeks ago now, and wet their packing material a bit and popped them in the fridge. No way was I going outside, partly because I was alone with no backup in case of a problem - in a yard with all kinds of tripping hazards - and partly because I was still shuttling back and forth to visit Steve every day.  The plants could wait. Plus I was already tired enough from all the traveling to not even be interested in the gardens. Not even with my camera.

I did make one exception for the back garden, very fully in bloom for the first time after all the battling with rabbits and squirrels.

I had to shoot small segments at a time to get in something of all the colors - or at least close - because even with all the colors blended and scrambled, no single shot could catch it all. Both of these two photos don't get them all.  Ask me next year. These are much fuller and taller than last year, so I'm wondering if they will improve even more then. Not to mention earlier and later varieties, extending the total bloom season. There isn't long enough yard to get that far away along that 28 foot wall. Five minutes of work for photos, including 100 feet total hike, was only just doable right then. Not everything was in bloom yet, but I wasn't going to go back and back and back to get THE picture.  I can try again next year. The neighbors walked past on their way to get mail and enjoyed it, making a point of telling me while they stopped to see how we were doing, noting all the come-and-go including with ambulances. Just like we notice what's happening with our close neighbors.

Today was the day to for working with iris. Or else. Heat starts climbing again tomorrow - of course! I had squeezed a few minutes in last week to mark two daylily clumps to dig out after blooming is done, so I can be sure to get rid of the one variety I don't like... and others do. They're on a list.  Call that ten minutes total, using string. It didn't count for gardening in my book. 

I have been plucking spent daylily blooms the last few weeks for compost and to prevent seed pods. Let their energy go into roots for next year's flowers. Not every day, but some days a dozen and other days 50. Easy work, just short reaches in from outside the concrete blocks to keep the flowers fresh instead of mushy globs trying to stain everything. It's easier now that Steve is home, though I used to try to get it in either to or from visits to his rehab. Still not really gardening work, just a bit of fussiness as I pass.

This morning was watering in two beds, weed pulling in one  since the other one was too crowded for weeds to survive anyway, and beginning planting both the new iris and replanting iris from where they were too crowded by daylilies to bloom, all going into a bed currently only  half bereft of rhubarb with proper room and sun for them. I'm doing it in short stages because even now the sun is too hot, requiring me to change beds and work load following the shade, such as it is. One more stint in an hour and the iris dug earlier, now sitting in a water bucket while I recoup energy, will go in the ground with a little extra dirt around them, watered one last time... for today. Job half done for the season. The heat will be rising again, so more watering. The best part is the farthest bed in this project is just past the end of a single hose, instead of requiring a second one to pull all over, wind. unwind, rewind. That happens when the back lily bed needs water, and will have to when the rhubarb is replaced by the last iris. A thumb over the end and the water reaches everything worked with right now. One day of interspersed labor, then a second planting later next month, and all the iris have their own, sunnier home.  Color theme, like all the lilies, or the spring daffodils or crocus, is kaleidoscope.

After that, somebody please remind me to stop buying that next new irresistible iris plant. Please!!!!!

My reward for today's work will be a shower tonight and visions of beauty coming next spring. My reward for many days of planting is my balance has improved. Not sure about stamina yet though. My punishment will be a lot more  work later.  All to be followed by what I hope is a final dead foliage pull after the inevitable frost, This is the year I learned it's supposed to come out, instead of hanging around to fertilize the next year's plants. Instead they give the plant pests a home. Oops. Next spring will be the test of my success or failure in the project, but either way I still get to dream success all winter before any dreams are dashed. I will keep a final bag of rhubarb stalks in the freezer to protect new Asiatic shoots next spring. Since my son gets one of the rhubarb plants I'm hoping for a small emergency supply if needed the following year after the rhubarb takes good hold in its new home. It depends on how much he needs for jellies.

But now I have to go before the skeeters wake up so when I collapse for the night I don't have to go out again. The bad part of that is I cleaned out the ice cream supply last night and have no inclination to hit a store for more for a few days. Oh well, Greek yogurt and .... I'll come up with something: berries, chopped pecans, coconut, maybe cocoa powder.....  combined of course.You can dream up your own supper. We can compare notes on whose is yummier another time.

Getting Acquainted With Fire Station 19, St. Paul

 Of course we had to do it the hard way, making them come to us. We never saw their actual station, just their great personnel and ambulance. THANK YOU STATION 19!

It started with a mid afternoon lunch date with another couple at our mutual favorite restaurant/deli in the Highland Park area, Cecil's. Tradition has us sitting down when it's not that crowded, as in between major meal times, for great food and lots of conversation without hogging a table. On our way out we usually hit the deli and load up, mostly on their caraway rye bread, sometimes on unique sweets. 

This was Steve's first actual outing of a non medical variety since his hip surgery and all that followed. Or at least the non-medical bit was the plan. We take the walker everywhere of course, fighting it up and down our stairs, then  into the back seat of the car. We're getting better at that, most days. It's a bit close to my shoulders' weight limit, but gives Steve the freedom he needs to go places, allowing him to use its seat and pouch when needed, or lock the wheels in place in areas like our home parking spot which has a slight but definite slant down onto the street with its own steeper slant down to the lake while switching to/from the car. Neither of us is going running after it if it rolls. A lock controlled  by a quick hand pull at each handle is a must when nobody is holding it.

There is a learning curve to using walkers, of course. Yesterday we learned after two years we still had things to learn. After thought given to where to park at the restaurant, on the street out front or around the corner to a parking area inside a fence with only one access point as far as possible from Cecil's front door, we decided to go for a street location with much less walking needed.

It turned out to be a mistake. We'll be using their parking lot from now on, where all is paved and level.

Getting out of the car was fine. There was room between car and curb for feet, and a grassy spot between curb and sidewalk for the walker. Steve could stand once the car door opened, and I'd place the walker on the grass in reach, holding firmly on to the other side, bracing it against movement while he stood, grabbed handles, stepped up, got adjusted, and pushed it onto the sidewalk. I stayed with the car for a minute to lock up after getting my keys and purse out. Steve was already going up their single front step with help from a handrail and a polite young lad of perhaps 10 who held the door open for Steve while he needed it. Easy-peasy so far, and maybe a slight touch too easy, lulling us into not thinking out the return to the car.

When the time came, I was in the line at the register learning exactly how one added a tip via their particular machine, while Steve was already out the door, down the step, and nearly back at the car, lickety split and without me, ready to get in the car while it was still locked. I'm guessing he's a bit too used to our driveway where by the time we're both down our steps I've hit the button on the fob unlocking the car doors remotely. I hadn't done that yet, still too far back. But he leaned just a bit towards the car door from the grassy spot and one wheel started to sink into an unseen divot in the dirt. In no time Steve was down, between the car and the curb, no room to move, and calling for an ambulance. Not help to stand, an ambulance!

He knew what we hadn't seen, that his head smacked the curb hard. He also remembered for us what I hadn't thought of yet in the moment, that while a few strong people could pull him upright with care, as had been done previous times he'd fallen, he was newly on blood thinners. It wasn't going to be that simple! Just to complicate things a bit more, the spot the car was in had no shade, and it currently was 95 out, resulting in him lying on concrete even hotter while waiting for help. He was at minimum feeling like he was getting burned, and whether damaging his body or not he was definitely overheating in a hurry!

We were suddenly surrounded by people trying to help. One of our tablemates was on the phone to 911, trying to give directions to the nearest corner when the route is known by heart to us, street names unnecessary, and signs with their names  hard to read. A couple people with different angles on the street,  upon hearing the issue shouted out the intersection names. When I informed another person who'd asked that we had no blankets to help shade him with (or possibly put under him- but needing more expertise than we were capable of despite now being joined by a nurse who'd been in the restaurant and rushed out to assist) one bystander ran to his car and pulled out a bath towel still damp from earlier  swimming to help both cool and shade him, while another person came up with a large red plastic fabric that I could help hold by holding up to car windows for shade ... like I had normal arm strength. Of course it was assumed, and I did my best while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. 

It felt like half an hour and it felt like two minutes. I think three minutes was closer to their arrival time, once they got an accurate location.  I was quickly needed to talk with one of the paramedics to give information on not just what happened but his name, address, medical history. Somebody else took over keeping him shaded. "My" paramedic was just a tad annoyed for half a minute when I got called away for a second by the ones tending to Steve, but I was the one who knew the name of Steve's blood thinner, and that was important on the spot. It's one that allows excess bleeding in case of injury - as opposed to one that's hideously expensive even if you have insurance because those companies don't cover it. In Steve's case he might have hit his head hard enough to be getting a subdural hematoma, making brain damage possible if not controlled.  We might never know without hospital equipment. I came right back to the first paramedic and resumed filling in information, including spellings, and "what county is that in?"

Transporting him was quickly decided upon, so I had to decide for us whether it would be United or Regions Hospital. I mentally debated a few seconds. I've had good treatment at United, and know people who've found Regions overcrowded and understaffed. To be fair it does serve a slightly different function, but I also recalled knowing better how to get to Regions than United, balanced by Regions being further from us, more challenging mostly because of all the new construction in St. Paul resulting in not knowing from last visits which streets are now open as well as how few landmark buildings look anything like what they did back when I was working. I'd known both hospitals plus others from front doors to docks and every necessary stop in between like labs or medical records, depending on the freight needing to be dropped off or picked up. I knew all the places to park free without getting a ticket with my marked car, and just as important could locate every restroom! 

 Once United was decided upon for possible quicker testing, things moved faster. Steve was carefully raised to a stand without any pressure put on his knees, something they will not tolerate. The paramedics listened to him when he requested that, plus managing it in that cramped space, earning his continuing gratitude. Everything around Steve except the red plastic sheet was tossed into my car without my giving them any attention. As a result we now have possession of one helpful man's towel, though after its later discovery it was finally spread out to dry instead of getting moldy. I'm sorry to whoever it belongs to, being a nice looking towel from a very helpful person. I wish I knew how to return it.

The paramedics were very helpful to me during the transport, as they had been the whole time, discussing options and so forth. They stopped traffic in both directions on the street, giving me the opportunity to pull out in a U turn and tuck in behind them, where I then tailgated them, with approval and my 4-way flashers on, all the way to where they turned in at "Ambulances Only" and I proceeded on into the parking ramp. No more free parking for me these days. Steve told me later that one paramedic in the back of the ambo with him gave him a running commentary on how I was doing keeping up, keeping him reassured during the drive. They had taken a second before we all moved to inform me that I was to get my parking ticket validated, so all the time Steve was in the ER and wherever else before I got my car out, with or without him, I got a low parking rate. Off we went, the first and hopefully only time in my life I tailgated another vehicle, and did it successfully and safely both on city streets including through stoplights, then onto the freeway and tagging right along through the ramp meters allowing one vehicle on at a time. Any other time I could get a ticket for being vehicle #2 on the same green meter light. The 4-way flashers apparently tied me to the ambulance like glue in other driver's perceptions, except for one entering the freeway at a ramp we were simply passing. That car went away soon enough and everybody got where we needed to together.

I did have one oddball thing happen in the parking ramp. My 4-ways refused to turn off. I tried several times, and nothing. Fortunately, shutting the engine off to park did the trick. Once I crossed the street, a greeter at the lobby front desk offered to escort me from there to the ER, a convoluted and long hike ending on a different floor. However, knowing the lobby from years past, I know there was a restroom hiding in the corner and let her know there'd be a bit of a delay. When I returned she pointed me to an ice water dispenser and cups on the table near her desk and invited me to help myself. It was still 95 out and it had been a walk, so I did. I also got my parking ticked validated, which involved a stick-on bar code across the front. Then we took a long hike to the ER where I got a different tour through the ER to Steve's cubicle. Our friends from the restaurant had already gotten there and had been keeping Steve company until I got there, then kept me company while he was out for a cat scan.

I had come in from the car with all the little scattered things in a large bag. I knew some would be needed, like his billfold with ID and insurance cards. There was also a styro box with his leftovers from our lunch. A phlebotomist poked his head in frequently to take blood, each time finding Steve busy with a different medical person or out of the room for a test. He finally got blood samples plus a compliment from Steve for being painless. Before we finally got out of the ER with a good bill of health, we both agreed that the food had been warm too long to be safe to eat, especially the potato salad, so away it all went in a large trash container. We both noted blood spots on his pillow when he lifted his head, proof of a hard contact earlier.   I took the pause during his CAT scan to reach out on my phone to family, locate another restroom because yes, it had been that long, and chat with our friends until they finally excused themselves to head home as it was getting late. They at least had brought a cooler for their leftovers for their supper. (Note to self for next time!!!) (Also buy some "canned ice". The old stuff disappeared somehow.)

They wouldn't allow Steve to walk or even get wheeled all the way through the hospital to the lobby across from the parking ramp. I could easily have driven to that door to pick him up. Instead I got a guide so I could walk that maze to where I could get directions to the car, then dive another maze to head around to the back of the hospital to pick him up. In that process I discovered automated payment booths hate me, the single person inside one booth was a grouch who couldn't understand why somebody with a low compact car and a brand new shoulder had problems reaching as high as the process required, and my final ransom to leave was a mere $5. Steve's pickup spot was easy enough to find but a narrow crazy zoo with cars in all directions and locations full of construction obstacles fighting to get in, then out with their former patient without damage, though somehow we all seemed to survive intact. Or at least for a long as I was there.

The drive home was wondrous, and not just because we were going home. It was over a half hour of watching otherwise ballooning dark clouds rise high enough above the rest to catch the last rays of the setting sun, play peekaboo with other developing columns allowing glimpses of bits here, then huge lumps there and hiding again, their next bright reveal as we traveled going from white to gold to peach to pinkish, still managing to surprise us with new shapes and deep pinks poking out even as we parked the car and stopped a few minutes to chat with a neighbor cross the street for a bit. We hadn't seen each other for weeks, all occupied with different medical challenges and with other folks stopping by to help in one way or another. We all managed to find a moment to view the final colored shapes peeking between grey blobs, all still growing, hiding, peeking, fading, until it was time to get inside, get cool, and sit!

I will note that rain did manage to get our attention a bit later while we relaxed. We had a whole three seconds of it on the south end of our roof, including two or three hailstones. Nothing showed on the street from a peek between the blinds. I remain amazed that a cloud tiny enough to have such a small footprint still managed to hit our roof! Maybe it was just wishing us a good night.

We obliged by having one, as well as we were able. A few new random sore body parts did manage to get our attention in attempts to prevent sleep, but we both did eventually succumb to its charms.

Anybody Wanna Breathe? With Addendum

It wasn't too bad this morning, around 7:30. I had to go out and drag the empty garbage bin back from the curb, and went as soon as I was dressed to avoid the heat we've been enduring but still be respectable. The neighbors are very close, after all, and some wake up as early as we do.

Turns out I was also still able to breathe... nearly healthfully. I'd had plans for very light gardening, mostly just plucking dead blooms for the compost pile and marking plants with string to denote bloom color not making them something I wanted to keep. Next good morning I'll be out, tracing marked flower stalks down to the ground to see what needed to be dug out, then dig and bag those for new homes in other peoples' yards, per recent discussions. Most of those new locations belong to various staff in the doctor's office. (Who else do I see often enough?) I decided to boot the "strawberry candy" daylilies. The color was represented as red and pink. It's more salmon and red, and like so many other people, it's not what I had in mind. Yep, I'm fussy. If I can make other people happy with free hardy bloomers, and the rest of what I have will fill in quickly, as daylilies do, where's the harm in being fussy? I plucked one new day's blossom, pulled individual petals to press in the fridge so folks can see actual color later, and will take those along on tomorrow's PT visit.

But I had to drive Steve to his surgeon for his "how ya doing"check-in plus hip  X-ray visit this afternoon. As soon as the car pulled out of its parking spot, we glanced at the lake, out of habit. I'm still convinced we could see a shadow of the opposite shore but Steve expressed doubts. A look at the county road in the other  direction looked like a heavy morning fog. I suppose you could call it a "dry fog" the way Arizonans refer to a"dry heat". We had good enough visibility to drive safely. I'm not so sure about breatheability however. I was in no way tempted to go for the camera the way I often am for standard morning fog photos, even if we hadn't been on  a deadline.

It was so thick that even I could almost smell the air. What I could detect instead was an almost metallic tang to it in my mouth. We set the car AC on recycle going both directions, both for keeping cooler and so we'd take in as little smoke as possible. One car-full each way seemed generous enough.

All of this was smoke from fires, primarily for us smoke blowing south from multiple wildfires in the BWCA, which has been closed to all except fire crews for a couple days now. One of Steve's sons had been planning a fishing trip there along with his wife, but it got canceled the night before they were to leave. Nobody knows whether it will reopen this season, and if so, who might have precedence for any remaining limited permits. They believe the cause is lightning, combined with very low rainfall for months. Those whose permits were cancelled will have refunds. Hardly a tradeoff for a vacation in our northern natural beauty. No telling what will be left of it by the time the fires are over. No refunds or other remuneration are available for those who live near the area who make their livings off the tourist season, not to mention the loss of the area and habitat itself to them.We can only hope they have the protections they need for their lungs and overall health through the time it takes to finally quell all the fires.

On our way back home, the air was thicker, nearly every car had its lights on just as they had on our earlier trip as if there were actual heavy fog, and the lakes we passed on our return showed only their near shores. It seemed to bring out the rudeness in fellow drivers, especially those seeming to hope we'd make an illegal move to speed ourselves along so they could follow at warp speed themselves. It wouldn't have helped any. I know those roads, their stop lights, speed limits and lane changes, and even the recent addition of cops monitoring speeders through town who seemed bound to contribute extra to the local coffers while sitting in their vehicles enjoying our local atmosphere - and not just the kind we were all being forced to breathe today. Bless them all for their ambitions to keep road taxes down for the rest of us who live here through their unnecessary and unexpected contributions. 

And Steve wonders why I don't get annoyed at all those obnoxious other drivers out there. It's not just that my annoyance or lack thereof never has any effect on them. As somebody once not just a professional driver who learned a bad attitude became expensive, but a representative of a small  community wrangling every cent out of small budgets, I'm always willing to let somebody else pay our tax  bills. And of course there was the oft repeated tale of a reckless idiot who passed me barely safely at the start of the local hiway on our way home, and visibly kept passing car after truck after car with narrow escapes from oncoming vehicles each time. What I knew and he learned was that by the time we both got 18 miles down the road to where coincidentally we both turned off, he was still just the car immediately ahead of me at the corner.  All the drivers he "bested" had turned off on other roads along the way. Whether you count on frazzled and lucky, or relaxed and smart, he was just 3 seconds ahead... and now I knew where he lived! We were neighbors, and I had no impulse whatsoever to make his personal acquaintance for the years he lived just a couple blocks away. 

*     *     *     *     *    *

Addendum: Next morning

Yep, we're overachievers here. With a pollution rating where 100 is is high enough that people with asthma or other issues are told to stay inside, don't exercise even indoors, wear a heavy duty mask rated 95 if you must go outside, this morning's news tells us we in most of the state are rating 300!  It's the highest it has registered in MN and covers most of the state, including here, as well as the Twin Cities metro and beyond. If you like colors for your graphics, deep burgundy is the worst, and we're living in it... "living" being the operative word.

Did I mention we're still having our heat wave? Wheeeee hack hack cough gasp! There's a bottle of water in my purse, plenty of ice in the fridge.

At least my scheduled PT for today is mostly stretches, extending range of motion, gently working only just to the point of hints of pain. And I'm sure it's nowhere near what I should have in a mask like a "95",  since I'm not making the extra trip to go find/buy one, but I will be wearing one from my supply of regular surgical masks purchased for avoiding covid and keeping airborn powdered used kiln paper out of my lungs from my days doing glass fusion. And yep, car AC on recirculate for the two mile trip each way.

Steve will be staying home, period.

I'm expecting a plant delivery today, I'm told. I hope the Fed Ex driver has a good mask. At least it will come straight to our main door porch. I can likely hold my breath long enough to step out and grab it. Planting can wait.

Oh, the Delights Of A Summer Shower!

OK, an outside shower can be pretty nice too, cleaning the air, watering all the plants so we don't have to, barring lightning  and hail of course. But I'm talking about the inside kind, clean warm water and soap, ridding one of all the buildup of dirt, salt, and (presumably) stink, as well as making my hair manageable again.

I have a new appreciation for those these days. It's been a bit too tropical outside recently, meaning it's expensive running the AC and fans enough to be comfortable indoors, and uncomfortable to do many necessary things like housekeeping, taking out large bags of garbage for cans needing to be hauled to the curb weekly, pulling the weeds which always sprout up regardless of it being too hot and dry... all that stuff. Even after the sticky has dried off my skin, the salt is left, and on my skin it only serves to make the little irritations sting.  I presume that in addition, odors build, despite my nose no longer recognizing them. I have absolutely no reason to believe human body chemistry changes enough with aging to eliminate the usual combination of stinks. I have faith that all of you appreciate my showers as well, any time you get within several feet or so.

I have recently realized just how much a slightly hot shower relaxes my post-surgical shoulders, allowing me to move them into positions they used to go without complaints and which are very helpful with mundane things like hanging up the wrung-out washcloth over the shower bar and spread it out to dry there rather than mildew. That newfound looseness, for however long it lasts, allows toweling in locations unreachable for a long time. When Steve was in the hospital for his surgery, and later in rehab learning to walk again, for the first time in a long time I managed to do those chores for myself without him, and mostly without any pain from stretching those muscles.

Do I need to mention I'm not anxious to test that when winter comes and fuzzy fabric has to "slide" over fuzzy fabric so warmth can be achieved without kicking up the utility bills even more? I'll have more practice by then, so fingers crossed, both for the doing it myself and for not needing to because Steve's still here.

Then there's being able to reach up to comb my own hair, or even trim the edges around my face. It still takes more time than 20 years ago, and I only do the face parts for trimming these days where I used to trim my whole head with a scissor, but it saves me about a haircut every two months I'd have to pay somebody else for.  They cost twice what they did before, now that I have half the free budget to get somebody else to try to understand exactly what I want. (How difficult is it, really, to understand no longer than two inches at the crown and tapering to nothing at the hairline, with a curve instead of those two points at the bottom in back? They try to indicate their understanding by giving me a clipper number. It's like expecting me to know a fifth language or something, when these days I barely know three of the four I learned,  and none of those substitute numbers for words. Does my confusion make them feel superior? It doesn't get me the haircut I want 90% of the time.)

My PT lady asks me how well I can do with certain milestones in strength and flexibility. How far in different direction can I lift an arm? How long can I hold it? What can I do again for myself without help?  All are better after a nearly-hot shower. The one that gets me is can I scrub my own back? As long as she puts it in "scrub" terms, I brush the question off. The water rinses all the dirt and salt off my skin, and my large towels pulled from their ends from side to side behind me get loose skin and water. What else is needed? Does some unknown sticky mud accumulate on my back where it's never seen by me that somehow everybody else on the planet can scrub off for themselves? 

As for dressing, my clothing is all loose enough to be pulled down once the skin is dry, at least in my summer wardrobe. I don't own anything that fastens behind me in any way. If we're talking pants they're all  loose enough to be pulled up/down by their waistbands into position, and either elastic or drawstrings keep them in place or a front closure does the job. I haven't had a back closing bra for decades, despite other women suggesting I just fasten it in front, twist it around to the back, and somehow force my arms through the straps. Ladies, if you want to  go through all those contortions yourselves, have at it. I'll try not to laugh in your faces, imagining your tryouts for the circus. I actually can manage to be that polite most of the time.

The mild gardening I've been doing this spring/summer, along with normal housekeeping chores, have been doable, so long as it's nothing heavy and high. I have people for that, or they don't get done, period. Mildly heavier things like dishes in the cupboard get where they're needed, just mostly lower or with a stepstool with a grab bar . I still need help opening my car hood, but I've expected than ever since I heard my surgeon give me a lifetime 20 pound limit for lifting either arm. There are workarounds, like getting my son to do it to check my oil in exchange for my pulling some weeds in his garden, since very few of those hold that high a deathgrip on the ground with their roots, and there are chemicals for the ones that do. By the time his weed maple trees get that tall in his garden, it first means I've not been pulling his garden weeds for too long, and a clippers and stump killer are needed to do the job. And as it turns out, my extra reward for doing that for him, getting all sweaty and itchy for a few minutes, in addition to his lifting my hood and checking/filling my oil, my exercising my arms, and improving my balance, is another nice shower when I'm back home! 

Win, win, win.

Fighting With AI, Walmart Style

 I was trying to place a Walmart order online to be picked up early the next morning in order to avoid our current heat wave spoiling my mostly frozen ordered food, especially the ice cream! I've done that many times - the order, not the ice cream part in a heat wave - and all was well with their form until time to pay. The card on file had been discontinued and replaced a while before, due to fraud, but I just hadn't put in an order here since then, and they still had its old number in my file.

There is a place on the order form to change your card number. It wasn't working. 

I tried to call the folks who gather your order and bring it out to your car. After being on hold while they checked for the person who might actually assist me, I was informed she wouldn't be back in the store until 6AM the next day. Way-y-y to late to be useful. So I was given a 1-800 number to call for the assistance I needed. Since I fully trust you've read the title, I'm confident you can guess what answered the phone.

Of course, I immediately asked to speak to a human. Request denied. Could I explain what I needed  better? (Well no, apparently not in the next three tries, but I did start to play the AI game.)  AI apparently speaks a language I don't: tech jargon. I countered with a question: what does that (jargon) look like on my screen? About 3 questions later I finally got a description and my hunt could begin. 

Success! Don't get excited, we're only talking about one symbol on the desktop.

Of course, the next things I was directed to offered jargon options without explanations of which was the correct choice for the situation. Try again, rinse-repeat, reset... reset....  I finally got to a point where I was supposed to enter data but where exactly? I'd tried to put in the new card number after several missteps in getting the blank to pop up, and nothing would register. Maybe it wasn't the correct location? Rinse-repeat, reset.  

Once I finally got the correct location and my numbers started to register, AI just kept talking and talking and talking.... ARRRGGGHHHH! If I'm going to have anybody get paid so I can get food, they'd need the correct numbers from my card. I need to concentrate on getting them right, and give a quick double look to be sure I was right about them being right. Frustration does increase typos. I can't prevent that when an obnoxious voice in my ear is still yapping in my ear, not to mention my little flip phone doesn't find earwax as being conducive to keeping the phone in place over my ear, even if one might expect a good result when every piece of glop in the world sticks to it as the wax builds. So now my brand new shoulder is shoved up in hopes of bracing the phone because that side of my head hears best, my eyeballs are working on dancing back and forth to check that numbers are in the correct order as well as simply the correct numbers. Are you dreaming about success yet?

Silly!

I make several discoveries in the process. AI will acknowledge a request for a human but deny it. AI does not understand one needs to set the phone down for a minute in order to type in a long string of card numbers. In fact is so clueless that one tends to suspect it has no actual head or even ears.

 It cannot comprehend the need for a mobile voice source on this end to hold the portable laptop in position, repeat several previous moves in order to get back to the site needed to start the whole process over again and work through it. Not even when you try to explain it. I suppose I did forget to mention mobility is involved, so perhaps mea culpa. AI also has no clue what it means when you ask for silence for a minute so you can concentrate on numbers, since even after my phone falls I can still hear it/her yammering yammering yammering in nothing clearly legible from that distance which one might or might not choose to interpret as a set of directions. It sure didn't sound like it from a foot or two away... or however far the phone was where I finally located it again. It also hadn't stopped when I got the phone near my ear again. It apparently totally lacks the programming to understand "SHUT UP!" or "BE SILENT" or "I NEED TO CONCENTRATE A MINUTE" but can do an excellent imitation of parroting them back to you as if your understanding of it's (alleged) understanding is more valuable than any possible actual demonstration of such understanding... by SHUTTING UP A MINUTE! 

(I briefly wonder if there are any nasty curses which it's programmed to react to, perhaps even by changing course? Is anybody studying that yet? I have suggestions....)

Deep breath here. Sidewise look at laughing husband. Eye roll combined with next deep breath, which he doesn't notice while involved in his online game.

Perhaps AI is lonely and is searching for a friend and has been programmed to react this way despite all evidence to the contrary of such a tactic working? Yeah, I don't think so either. GIGO.

As various parts of the forms I was to be filling out proved their reluctance to accept numbers, or clicks on a charted list, say, of 12 possible months denoting the expiration date on the replacement card, or another improbably long list of possible expiration years including some which have passed, we again were going nowhere in circles.

The time it has taken to write all of this is actually faster than the AI communication dragged out, and yes, I did have to correct a few typos in this process. But suddenly, without any acknowledgment of justification or change in the process, I was actually speaking with a warm, breathing human! He introduced himself as "a human named.....". The first words out of my mouth were,"First, I want to thank you for being human!!!"

We both had a chuckle - proof of his claim to humanity -  since AI has shown no programming for humor whatsoever, along with it's lack of programming for intelligence - and progress ensued. My data got updated, we both could see the old number replaced by the new one, or more properly, the last 4 digits of each. This part of the process took less than two minutes. He could remain silent when asked. I could type in correct numbers my first try! I could hear Steve again laughing next to me as he listened to me explain my frustration over the non-intelligence, even while continuing his computer game. Before signing off, mission completed, I again thanked the guy on the other end for being a human. 

He in turned let me know I'd be getting an email from Walmart with a survey, which would have his name on it, and would I please give feedback? (Yep, more proof of being human, no need for him to check off the number of boxes with bicycles or some such, even more annoying when the boxes are too small to distinguish between a bicycle and, say, a tree.)

Absolutely I will! Those kinds of feedback tend also to get links to the appropriate page on my blog.  

I haven't seen the email yet, but I'll be sure to look again in the morning after I bring home a few bags of frozen groceries and get them put away. Maybe while I'm having another spoon of that ice cream I ordered, my version of proof I AM NOT AI!

Non - Sense

I'd been spending the early morning arranging what was needed / wanted for Steve's homecoming later this morning. It had been pretty busy so far, which I say not as an excuse but just a statement of fact.

Yesterday had been dealing with groceries, stocking up on what was needed with him home and a celebratory supper tonight with my son attending, and a tiny bit of purging in the fridge after he's been gone so many days. It's not foolproof, after a bout of covid still leaves me with essentially no sense of smell except for the occasional flash of something, no sooner registering than gone again, not to return. I'd been tasked with dealing with old milk. One carton had been opened before he'd been returned to the hospital. I informed him that he'd have to evaluate the unopend one, and check on everything else that might have spoiled, but the instant I picked up the opened one, a huge clot of curdles told a tale nobody needed a nose for. I poured the thin liquid around them down the sink, put the cap back on, and took it out to the garbage can inside a plastic bag, just in case it expanded in the heat or something and leaked. There was more to add to the can, so I did that too, then took a couple turns around the circular raised daylily bed to pull off the spent blossoms so it would look its best when the car pulled up for his first view. They hadn't started to do more than suggest buds when the ambulance took him out. Now we have about 5 different colors showing off, more to come.

There were all sorts of other preparations to make, in order to get both him and his stuff into the car and inside the house. I was just finishing my own breakfast and coffee when I decided to check in with him and verify everything was still go and at the previously set time. Sitting in the bathroom seemed a good time to do so. Multitasking! 

In our  discussion, I asked him when they were serving breakfast, to which he asked me what time it was. I knew what program had just started on the TV, and went by that with my estimation, apologizing for not having better information because there was no clock in the bathroom.

Ahah! I bet  you've already figured it out, haven't you! 

No excuses, just distraction. We both had a chuckle, and hung up our phones to finish getting things ready for his return.