Surgery--Again

How be thee an' dem poiple PJ's?

((Boida)) x

Too autumnal for the flannal and the fleece, Iz. Gotta wait for the dead of winter to wear that stuff.

I had the fleece on for a while. Too hot.

Breathing is eh.

I know how much you love the cold & the snow, Roberta.
So I'm glad it's getting cold in NYC.
I want it to be perfect for you at Christmas!
Exactly as you would like!


You know, you could well be right about that, now that you mention it!

Wishing you much easier breathing, less coughing & some sound, refreshing sleeps, Roberta.

And, of course, lots of snow!

I can wait for the snow, olga. Snow in October is just plain weird. And as much as I love it, I have a terrible time getting around in it these days.

I slept for 12 hours. Missed phone calls I was supposed to make. Feeling a bit less tired.

Breathing is eh with the nebulizer and spacer.

olga, You're got Russian in your genes. Are you a cold lover?

OK, I can understand that, Roberta.
So later for the snow!!!!!! Much later.

Very good to hear that you're sleeping better, but I wish your breathing was better than "eh".
I really hope there's some real improvement soon.


Not quite, but close ...
Ukrainian.
(a word of advice: never call a madly nationalistic Ukrainian a Russian!
Things could get ugly, trust me!
Lucky I'm not one of those. )


The exact opposite, Roberta.
I'm happiest barefoot in summer.
Winter to me is serious down time, just like those critters who hibernate during the cold, grey months.
It wouldn't surprise me at all if I suffered from a touch of seasonal affective disorder.

Re your work: I'm hoping your employers have paid up for your past work (I know they sometimes take ages!) & that they've given you something interesting to edit for a nice change.

p.s .....I hope you wake up in time to make those calls tomorrow.
An early morning reminder call, perhaps?

I have to be at the hospital tomorrow, so I probably won't have time for calls. And the person I have to call isn't in on Wednesdays. He might be at the hospital. I'm waiting for an e-mail.

Sorry about the Ukranian/Russian faux pas.

I have an appointment with a dermatologist. My annual check for problems visit.

No problem at all, Roberta, about the Ukrainian/Russian confusion.
It happens all the time!

And good luck for your hospital visit tomorrow ... fingers crossed it won't be snowing.

Back from Bellevue. Saw the dermatologist.

She decided not to do an overall checkup. I seemed exhausted, and my breathing was audible. So I pointed out stuff that I was concerned about.

The ooky blotch on my leg is nothing to be concerned about. She gave me a cream for it.

My scalp itches where my head was shaved for the brain surgery. I mean ITCHES. The surgery was years ago! I didn't want to put a cream on my head/hair. So she gave me a pill.

The weirdy thing on the other side of my scalp is nothing.

I'll go back in two months for an overall checkup.

Then I went to see the social worker to get some assistance with filling out my Medicaid renewal form. There we were--two college graduates--looking at this form with mystified expressions. Do I need proof? It says here that you do and there that you don't. I'll provide proof. Do I have to return all the pages? Who knows? I'll return all the pages. We went on like that. I'll finish filling in the form, gather the proof, and mail it tomorrow.

I'll also go to the drugstore tomorrow and try to straighten out another problem with my Medicaid card. And I'll drop off the cream and pill prescriptions I got today.

I'm looking forward to Friday. I have nothing special planned for Friday, but I won't have to set my alarm clock. Always an attraction.

I was in a cab on my way to the bank (six blocks is too far for me to walk). I'm sitting there minding my own business when the cabdriver asked me if I have asthma. Yes, I do, says I. He could hear me breathing.

I get to the bank and sit down while I rummage around in my bag for the stuff I need. Then I can't get up. A bank monitor offered to help me up.

Jeez, Who is this old, feeble, loud breather? Surely not moi. The old part I don't mind. But the other stuff ain't me. Not in my head. I come home and look in the mirror to see if I recognize myself. I notice that my hair is no longer predominately dark. I'm hoping for a doozy silver streak. The rest of me looked vaguely familiar.

Glad you looked familiar.

You could GIVE yourself a doozy silver streak?

Glad at least someone helped you up.

Nope, I couldn't give myself a streak. No chemicals on this head.

Just glue a strip of aluminum foil on...

Gee, now why didn't I think of that? Must be yet another symptom of my deteriorating self. Thanks for the tip, Sturgis.

BTW, Awake for another coughy break.

Glad to help!

The coughing must be in the air, I just began a coughing jag myself...I suspect it's part of Bloomberg's plot to get rid of us and then run for a 4th term.

Annoyingly, my coughing always morphs into hiccoughs.

I'll let him run again--on one condition. Finish the damned Second Avenue subway, which seems to have been under contruction since I was a child. (Just did some research. The plans have been on the drawing board since Babe Ruth was playing for the Yankees.)

Return the traffic on the upper east side to something approaching congested, which is preferable to not moving.

Reporting in. I got something in the mail today. I received a temporary reprieve with my tax issue. Not permanently gone, but at least for now, I don't have to worry.

Major relief.

Still not breathing right. I continue nebbing and spacing. Temporary relief.

I am mightily relieved at your temporary relief from constant worry, Roberta.

You need a break from all this.

Phew.

About bloody time.

You're right, olga. I need a break.

Deb, Phewing with you.

I still have to resolve the problem, but I have some breathing room. I have find some free help without it being an emergency. Greatly relieved.

Also proud to say that I took care of it and managed to achieve it on my own. It didn't hurt that I could barely talk. Out of breath when I called. But still. I made it happen. There was no time to get help. And I was unable to go anywhere to meet with people. I can do things now at my own pace and when I'm able.

I had the beginnings of the attack that put me in the hospital when I was on the phone with the IRS. Maybe I'll get better now. Who knows. COPD is unpredictable.

I made a pocket.