We can see it from here!

As Ol' Abner recovers from his surgery, I am looking to the near future.  I refused to cancel summer and autumn plans just in case he might be too ill to enjoy them.  It was a good decision.  As we move into July, August looks like a good time to escape from the Bayou City and return to life as usual...well, as usual as it will ever be again.  We missed a family reunion and a fiftieth anniversary party in June, but those sacrifices were understood and lauded. We will use the month of July to prepare our house in the hill country for life with a suppressed immune system.  That means removing all carpet and replacing with a solid surface flooring. The house has had only occasional occupancy for the last three months, so I'm pretty sure the dust bunnies have taken up residence. Fun events planned for August and September look like we can enjoy full participation. I may need to get home and gather my quilting supplies soon.  A quilting retreat is on the calendar and I already have the pattern.  My fingers are itching.... 

Invisible?

This year I will be officially old.  The government says so and if the government says it, it must be so!  I guess we could debate that theory on any given day, but it may be time for me to enjoy the perks of being "officially" old. Earlier in the month I went online and set up my Social Security user id and attempted to apply for my monthly retirement payments to begin the same month as inception of my Medicare benefit.   Instructions were fairly straight forward and questions requiring answers seemed a little invasive.  How does the government know how long I've had that particular credit card or who holds my mortgage??? Answers to those questions had to be correct in order to prove I am who I am.  I worked my way through the nosiness of the site assuming it was for my own good, filled in all the choices in an effort to have my benefits in place on my 65th birthday.  It took just under an hour to muddle through the maize and at the end, it suggested I review the information for accuracy and select "submit" if it was correct and ready to go.  I did, but it did not...GO that is!  The little icon just began to spin when I hit "submit" and continued to spin for several minutes until my screen saver timed it out.  I awakened it to see no sign that the process had completed. For several days I tried unsuccessfully to re-visit my application.  Finally, today I went to the local Social Security office.  

I arrived around ten a.m. and there was a short line at the front door.  Within half an hour I had been given a number and called to one of the cubicles to explain what I needed.  A few keystrokes and the clerk told me to have a seat and I would be called by name shortly.  I asked if my application showed in the system, she said she wouldn't be able to see it if it was there.  OK, I should feel pleased that my information is not available to just anyone. I sat down and waited.  Others were called back and more sat solemnly in chairs around me. After about three hours or so, all chairs had changed occupants except mine.  Time was racing and I did need to be elsewhere by four.  Just after three, I started over to ask the uniformed crowd control officer if i could schedule a firm appointment another day.  Before I reached him a man in a business suit asked if he could help me.  I explained my dilemma and he asked my name and asked me to wait just one moment.  He went through the big door and returned in about 30 seconds waving me forward.  Behind the door, he asked if I could allow about ten minutes to finish the process and apologized for my long wait.  He said it was not acceptable for anyone to be kept waiting more than two hours. The lady who handled my application said my name was nowhere in the que and she didn't know what had happened.  I guess I was wrong to be relieved that I couldn't be seen in the system.  I wonder if I will get an invisible Medicare Card or invisible money...

It's not Even Green!

Ol' Abner is a stubborn soul.  He's been kicking tires and trying to convince me I need a new car for over a year.  I was very much in the mindset for a trade up about three years ago. When the ailing air conditioner was so easily repaired, that urge passed quickly.  He has ramped up the pressure in the last year or so.  Kicking tires on Sunday afternoon has occupied many days whether I was with him or not.  He has read all the reviews of the newest models and has shared the results of that research with me frequently.  Of course I should have seen where this was going.  We've played this silly game before.  He asks what kind of car I would like.  There was a time that a luxury SUV was high on my list, but that time has long passed.  Parking spaces are just too small these days and maneuvering the Texas Medical Center parking garages has made me think perhaps I should dredge up my ancient grudge at him for selling my VW Bug many years ago.  My current response to the car choice question lately has been "I would like another just like the one I have".  It's a futile question, he knows, since they stopped making my kind of car five years ago.  His research uncovered one of those bits of information about shared technology.  He had found a brand using the same features I have liked so much in my ten year old car.

Yesterday, I was grumbling about being almost out of gas.  He knows I hate pumping gas, but he currently cannot do it for me.  He had run me all over town on spontaneous shopping and eating adventures.  He suggested we drop in at an auto dealership that just happened to be on the service road we were traveling.  I was tired and really had other plans for my day, but I humored him. He had me on the test drive when the salesman mentioned that every car purchased leaves the lot with a full tank of gas!  At that point I didn't even care what color it was.  I now have a back up camera, built in navigation system...and all the new technology I don't yet know how to use. 

We had a phone call just as we finished agreeing to purchase and had to go to the hospital to re-admit Ol' Abner, so they filled the tank and we left.  I'll go back tomorrow and get a formal lesson on the use of all these new goodies.  When Dancing Girl returns from the West Coast, she'll probably have to finish fine tuning my expertise.  She did manage to get my bluetooth telephone capability activated last night.  A few months ago she bought a new car with all these enhancements and unlike me she's not technologically obtuse.

Gazing and Daydreaming

Houston is a beautiful city.  Houston is an ugly city.  I love the prettiness and choose to overlook the uncontrolled desolation right next to the beauty.  Several weeks in the Texas Medical Center have served to reinforce the diversity of views.  Driving down tree lined streets in the summer, walking on paths with lush blooming bushes, topping a rise in the freeway for a breathtaking view of downtown; all make me smile.  Just a block on either side of that same freeway, one can view boarded windows on ramshackle houses, overgrown weeded yards and stacks of trash on lawns.  Drive another block or two and again the landscape is neatly manicured, homes are well maintained and amenities abound.

From the windows in the Outpatient Center Tower I've enjoyed views at many times of day. The quiet cityscape differs greatly at this height from the bustling streets below. I've spent many days waiting in this area while Ol' Abner has a procedure or waiting with him to see the medical professionals.  What better place to sit and enjoy the beauty of this city! 

Daisy is Driving

Driving in traffic, driving long distances, driving in inclement weather, driving with a carload of noisy kids has never bothered me much.  I like to drive and I love to travel the "roads less traveled" or any road I haven't traveled before.  The spontaneous turn on a never noticed road fills me with delicious anticipation. That said, I'm tired of driving. There is something to be said for always having a designated driver if I choose to take the path of imbibing.  Ol' Abner gave up alcohol many years ago when the consequences of diabetes took all the joy out of that little buzz. He took over the "designated driver" role then.  I love having the ability to enjoy the views as we cruise the countryside, sometimes demanding a stop for a better look at the scene through a camera lens. It's been just under a month since he received his fresh new lung. He's breathing well and so far has suffered few of the predicted complications. It's not surprising, he is always a very compliant patient. Driving is not an option for 8-10 weeks post transplant. That means Daisy Mae will continue to chauffeur him about the town.  I'm ready for someone to drive Daisy around and about so I can just gaze at the views of the city!