Out And About

Trust me, I never thought I'd say this, but it's a lovely bit of the day between rainstorms. In Minnesota, it wouldn't have been worth mentioning. Down here, it's been raining -- or something resembling damp-ish - for several days now. After days of this, the rain gauge is pushing the one inch mark. Even Saturday night, while we were getting our vaccinations a bit of damp was dropping, to the point of needing the wipers on intermittent for part of the drive home.

Goodness!

This is not the reason I was out and about this morning. I'm still very wary of other people. We continue to grocery shop late in the evening, for example, and I avoid the club except to take minutes for the board meetings. But I have appointments at the cardiologist, one of the very rare other reasons to go out. Today is a sonogram of my legs, Thursday the results, just the beginning of what needed doing.

On the way there I noted a pair of big utility trucks near one of the stoplights, a spot where the planners conveniently pinched up the road to one lane before expanding it to three, adding both turn lanes. Not sure their logic there, but.... 

At any rate, as I approached I saw several large chunks of palm tree trunk on the boulevard/green section, with a lone frond on the front yard across the street. Hmmm, must have had a wind overnight, eh? At least it had gotten cleared from the road. The top-heavy palms are so tall, aka old, here, and this last summer was so hot for so long that it reportedly killed a lot of tree roots, so it was no big shock - except I was unaware of any big winds. Out in the east valley there were reports of power outages, but that's there, and not unusual. They also get much more lightning than we do, some of which we saw in the clouds last night.We had none here, unless the whole household sleeps even heavier than I usually do.

After passing the palm, I glanced to my right, and down one street there was a palo verde knocked over. This surprised me more than the palm. It's shorter, spread out more, and you might think it's more of a wind catcher, but it's a tree that never has any leaves except after a good rain, and when it does have leaves, they are tiny, hardly anything to catch the wind. But down it is. Glad I watered our palo verde recently.

The cardiologist's office is efficiency central these days. One person was in the waiting room sitting, another checking in at the front window, and the person heading the desk recognized me immediately (Wonder why that is, eh? Been there a lot, have I?) pointing to a side door and directing me straight through into another office. I wasn't even asked for insurance information, making three times this year nobody's cared, including the vaccinations. This next waiting room was empty of all but chairs. I was quickly directed from there into an exam room set up for ultrasounds, aka sonograms. Yes, the jell is still cold. This time it's applied in the inner side both legs, three different locations each. I figure if they ever decide to try warming it up, it'll probably ruin its jelly-ness and it'll just run all over. It's not like the docs ignore patient comfort or anything, right? You know, like cold speculums or something. 

Do they still keep speculums cold these days, I wonder? Been a long time since I needed to know.

Up near the groin, where the femoral artery is largest, I could hear the swoosh swoosh swoosh of my pulse. By the time they reached my knee, it disappeared. It seemed logical, not a cause for disquiet. After all, the blood is obviously still reaching the tips of my toes along with everywhere else. 

The procedure didn't take long. After dressing, I looked for my pocketbook on the way out. The woman who did the procedure remarked she didn't remember me coming in with one. Maybe I left it in the car, despite what I believe are rigid habits regarding taking it with me. Alas, nothing in the car. I called Steve and asked him to look in the usual places. I thought I remembered pulling it from its usual location tucked out of sight and setting it on top of the table next to my chair, ready to be picked up with my phone and keys. Nope, not there. I headed home to check all possibilities for myself. My next stop definitely required money and I needed all the information in that pocketbook.

So, not where Steve already checked, not in the bathrooms, not on my bedspread as if I might have set it down while heading in to do something there before walking out the door. Nothing in the kitchen, nothing outside on the little table next to the chair I sometimes sit in while Heather Too does her thing in the yard, nothing in the back of the car where it might have landed and hid on black upholstery while unloading groceries last night. I called the store, and the only pocketbook anybody had turned in there was red. We both agreed it wasn't likely to have changed color overnight, and she suggested I should cancel all my cards.

WAIT! I'm not ready for that yet. Sit and think. Sit. And. Think. 

The longer I sat, the surer I was that I really did carry it into that office this morning. Those habits are so ingrained, I would have noticed not having it on the way in.  Wondering if they would need my current insurance cards on my way in made me sure I carried in the pocketbook. That led me to visualizing my path through their offices and I remembered: entering the procedure room, I'd looked around for a place to set it down that would be out of everybody's way, first to the left, behind the door on their counter. There wasn't quite enough space so I kept going in and looked next to my chair. There was something else there, but the purse-related memory stopped there, picking up when I returned to the chair for my pants, shoes, keys and phone. It wasn't in that stack, but it must be close. I immediately called and left a message that I was returning to look for it before heading out again.

Sure enough, there it was, my  little black pocketbook under the black chair on the black floor. Whew! As a bonus, I decided I was not quite as senile as I was beginning to entertain the thought of being.

On to errand number 2, WalMart. I needed to pick up my ready prescription, something I've been fighting for three weeks now to get refilled. Good thing I started early this time, eh? Last time I waited till I had three pills left (different Rx) and got the actual pills in hand the morning I needed that next one. I was sweating that one. It was important, a don't-skip kind of thing. This was more optional, a combination of test strips and lancets for checking my morning blood sugar. Miss a few days? No biggie, at least not yet. But there were issues. And more issues.

First, I didn't have a prescription number for either of them. My last number was from the whole kit, including the meter and carry case. Now I just needed individual parts. I called the pharmacist, and they understood what I needed and put in the requests with my doc. No joy after a week and a half, so I called them back to inquire why. (Remember, I left  myself time.) They checked, and the paperwork from the Doc hadn't come through. They resubmitted, and I left voicemail with the doc's assistant. This time the paperwork came through... without the Medicare coding needed for billing. Rinse, repeat. A week later, the lancets were ready, but not the test strips. 

That was this morning. This time I was talking to the pharmacy employee in person through the  plexiglass window they'd installed back in April. I usually use the drive-through this WalMart offers for prescriptions, but I needed doggie dental chews, and this is the only place I've found them both in the right kind and cheap. A trip inside was warranted. Thus I saw the order that came through from my doc since the pharmacy employee held it up for me. The next hitch in this order was in the quantity needed part, where the doc's office put in N/A. How on earth can that be N/A? Pharmacy had already sent back yet another inquiry, and the doc changed it to one box for the lancets. Test strips? Still showing N/A. I promise there was no way I was going to stab my fingers without any strips to read the results! Still, I took the lancets home with me, because who knows how they might screw it up the next  time if I didn't?

The pharmacy promised to resubmit the request to the doc, and I promised to leave yet another voicemail. It started with, "We can't keep meeting like this...." and the light approach apparently worked, because this time I actually got a call back in a few minutes to confirm it was only the lancets needed. I'm actually optimistic that this time the order will get filled, and I'll have Rx numbers next time to call in refills. Well, kinda optimistic, anyway.

My next errand required an appointment, and I postponed making it until after lunch. Heather Too needs her nails clipped. Even Steve is insisting, since her way to get attention is with her paws. Those nails really dig in when she wants something. No actual punctures yet, but.... She doesn't like me to do any trimming. This is after I spent some funds to get one of those battery powered grinding wheel trimmers that dogs are supposed to love. OK, like. Tolerate maybe? No such luck. Quiet as they are, the first whisper of that motor and she's at the other end of however far away she can get.

The kit comes with a clipper also, supplied with a guard behind where the blades meet so you can't remove too much nail at one time.This time I kinda got part of a nail removed. It was/is a little shaggy, but certainly no worse than the way she uses her teeth to trim them herself. Well, no worse for her, anyway. I have a lovely blood blister where my finger got a teensy bit in the way of the pinching part on the other side of the hinge on the thing. Now we both agree that somebody else will perform that particular grooming duty in the future.

Pet Smart has reopened their grooming area, something else initially closed last spring. There is one just past the local Home Depot. They encourage using their website to log in and make an appointment. I tried. Really, I did. I would have needed her birthday, however. And a photo. I hoped the birthday - day, month and year! - was somewhat optional. She is a stray, after all, and even strays need grooming. Later on the form asked me to download a photo. Ahah! I have those! So I searched one out, dragged it over to the spot on their form, and...

The system broke!

I wound up on the phone making the appointment. There was no requirement for color, birth date, photo, my email, or in short, half the stuff the website "required." What was useful was the reminder to dig out her rabies vaccination proof, which the county obligingly provides, along with neutering, before any adopted animal exits their premises. Since I knew that would be needed before traveling, if for no other reason, I knew exactly where to dig that up, in a blue folder with everything else relating to her.

Arriving five minutes early, I gave Heather Too some extra attention in the car before heading in, despite which, she was trembling until I turned her over for her nail trimming. I went the deluxe route, $10 for cutting, $5 for grinding them smooth. While they had her, I bought her a new leash. The old one had no clasp and was only useful if the hand loop was threaded through the ring on her collar - or today, sticking up from her harness - and threaded back through its own metal loop. It had been a freebee. The new leash cost more than her grooming visit. Returning to the grooming area, I learned their secret. One person holds the dog so her feet can't get traction anywhere, while the other person works on the nails. This is supposed to be a one person job, so maybe I wasn't completely as incompetent as I thought I was. Maybe.

Pet Smart has an on-premises vet clinic, so while waiting for the nail trim to finish, I spoke to them about the possibility of having them see her. They gave me a qualified maybe for a quick opening, as somebody had signed up for one in ten minutes but not finished the confirmation of their appointment online. I was willing to wait. Some time after we adopted her, she licked a bare spot on the upper end of her front paw. It had swelled a bit after that and stayed bare. Since two months had passed without change, I decided to have it looked at in case it needed attention. 

We got the opening, and yes, everybody gets a kick out of "Heather Too" as a name. Some even figure it out. There was paperwork and a weighing in. From just over 14 pounds when we adopted her, she now registered 16.8, which the vet, after checking her over, said was ideal for her, a little padding over the ribs, but still a "waistline". Just keep an eye on it now. The bare spot on her paw was a scar from all the licking, no sign of any mass or injury, no likely insect invasion since she's on Frontline. 

I asked about her likely heritage. She's listed simply as chihuahua, short hair, but is way larger than breed standards. The vet agreed there is some mix there, offering a few possibilities, though agreeing with our labeling her as a rescuhuaha.

She does need a dental cleaning. We did know that. I'd been putting it off, giving her half a "dental bone" for her treat whenever she needed to be put in the kennel, just to keep the kennel from being a punishment for a dog who arrived with abandonment issues, now seemingly gone. They did a good job of cleaning the brown off the pointy halves of her teeth, but not so much along the gum line, and improved her breath tremendously.  The "free well-visit" post adoption vet had quoted me $550 or up, depending on what they found. These guys quoted me $311 and up, same qualifier. Today's visit turnedout to be free. I think she'll be back here, not just for the nail trims.

Me, I'm just happy to be done running around for the day. 

I'm also thinking I should have heard from the pharmacy by now.