Ahmed, the Crossfire, and TLWTBA

Yesterday I visited the Walter’s domain to attend Ahmed’s going away party. Ahmed, in case you don’t know, is a foreign exchange student from Pakistan who has been living with Daniel, Jennifer, Lydia, and Jeran since last summer. From day one he was part of the family and didn’t miss a beat by including Diane and me, calling us Grandma and Grandpa. That was pretty cool. He’s a special young man and we can’t wait to see what his future has in store for the world. Jennifer has become something of an expert preparing halal food for Ahmed and it may become a regular food choice for them even after Ahmed has returned home.

He leaves next week and will be missed by everyone. But, thanks to social media, he’s just a click away.

Also, yesterday, I returned the part I bought at O’Reilly’s Auto that I was sure would resolve the problem I’ve had with the Crossfire. The error code reported a bad Crankshaft Position Sensor. I think I already shared that previously but that’s OK. I’ll pretend you forgot.

Anyway, I had to special order the part on Saturday because it wasn’t on the shelf. I was a little surprised by the price because it was over double what I expected. However, I needed the part, and paid the price. I picked the part up Sunday morning and went right home to install it so I don’t have to drive Diane’s truck any more. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a nice truck and I really like it. But, I kinda like the Crossfire more at this time.

I carefully unwrapped the part and noticed it looked a lot different from the pictures I saw during my search for the part. Double-checking the part number on O’Reilly’s website revealed that what I’d paid such an exorbitant price for was a Camshaft Position Sensor, not a Crankshaft Position Sensor. Not the same critter.

I boxed it up and took it back to O’Reilly’s and explained the error of their ways. I’m pretty positive that I requested the correct part but the thing is that when I did it, I also purchased the Camshaft Position Sensor for Lydia’s Envoy. It’s her graduation present from me. She doesn’t know that yet because I didn’t wrap it. I just gave it to her. I can kinda understand why the fellow who helped me (the Manager) made the mistake because of the way the transaction went down, and I wasn’t upset.

When I returned it I was helped by a young man who was apparently new at O’Reilly because he was just learning their computer system. Thankfully, he had me for a customer because I don’t get upset about stuff like this. It just isn’t productive. So, I made it a good experience for him and we got things straightened out. Turned out the part I needed was in stock (their last one) so I got that and half my money back. What a deal.

Back at home, I gathered my tools and went to work. It didn’t take long before I had the old one out and the new one in. I cleared all the computer failure codes and cranked it up. The engine purred like a sewing machine and the engine light stayed off. Just to be sure, I checked for failure codes, but there weren’t any. I guess I can now call myself a Crossfire mechanic. Sure, it was simple, but I did it. All by myself. And only burned my hand 4 times.

Tomorrow I’m taking The Lady With The Broken Arm (TLWTBA) to the doctor who was already scheduled to see her on June 13th, Cedric’s and Don’s Birthday, and the day Ahmed leaves. Apparently the doctor saw something, we think, because she called today and requested that she be delivered to the office tomorrow morning, bright and early. So, that’s what we will do.

Now I must go to bed so I will be ready to roll in the morning.

G’Nite.

 

Bike Rides, and the Seaside Emergency Room

It was a nice, overcast day at Nehalem Bay State Park. It had the promise of a good day. Not too hot, not too cold. That lasted for most of the day before things got exciting for some of us. Before I go there, however, this is a busy day at the beach.

I took Ziva for a couple of runs around the park because I discovered that she’s OK with running alongside the bike. She makes a very rhythmic clickity clickity noise as we go. I figured it would be good for whittling down those nails. We did that a few times, running all the way around the park, all the loops.

As the sun headed for the horizon we decided to take Ziva for another run and Diane was game to give her bike a try. The first stop was to dump the trash, and that’s as far as we got before Diane, while trying to stop her bike, failed to put her foot down, and just kinda tipped over like that guy on the tricycle on “Laugh In” from many years ago, for those of you who may remember that show.

I didn’t see her fall because she was behind me, but I heard the crash. When I turned around she was lying on the pavement, on her left side with both legs still almost on their respective pedals. Carefully, I removed the bike from between her legs and got it out of the way so she could sit up, but she stayed prone for a while, waiting to see what hurt the most. I regret that I failed to get a photo of that, but I did get one of her sitting up, surrounded by Yurt People. We were pretty close to them and they all came to see how they could help.

We left her alone until she was ready to sit up. By that time she had assessed the damage and reported that it was confined to her left wrist which was most certainly broken. She pulled he sleeve back on her sweater, which was miraculously without holes, to show us how her wrist made this nifty “S” curve going down her arm into the wrist area. The break was across her ulna, just above her wrist. She’s a quick thinker and managed to get her wedding rings off before the swelling made it to her fingers. I wore them on my right pinkie which is exactly the correct size.

While sitting on the pavement, near the trash compactor, park rangers were added to the group of overseers and offered to summon an ambulance for transport to the hospital. It was about 6:45 pm at the time and we knew there was an Urgent Care facility in Manzanita, jus outside the park, so we opted for me to transport her there to at least get some pain meds because the shock was wearing off and she was feeling every aspect of the fracture. She was quickly sinking into a very miserable, painful place.

One of the Yurt People, a young man, helped me get the bikes back to the trailer so I could get the truck and load her up for the trip. That done, we headed for Highway 101 and stopped at a Shell station because Diane wanted water and ice. I got both, as well as a plastic covered soda box that one of the attendants was in the process of breaking down for disposal. She thanked me for saving her a little bit of time. I put the box in Diane’s lap, added the very large bag of ice in the box and she made her arm as comfortable as possible for the trip.

The Urgent Care facility was just a couple of blocks north of the station but it was a wasted stop because they closed at 6 pm. So, we made a decision to head north to Seaside Providence Hospital.

The sobbing stopped within the first 10 miles as the ice did it’s job. We were both thankful for that because her pain was eased, and my distress about my inability to make it all go away was minimized. Then all I had to do was shudder each time I hit an unavoidable bump in the road, of which there are many on Highway 101, as we made that 21 mile trip to Seaside.

As we drove, Diane was able to key into Maps our destination so we knew exactly where to go. It was a good distraction for her. I would have taken a photo but figured that wouldn’t be a good idea since I was driving and she was using my phone.

We got to the hospital about 7:15 pm and got checked in to the emergency room very quickly. The place was jumping, every room filled. We learned that after a fairly slow Memorial Day weekend, everyone in town showed up at the emergency room just before we got there. It was very busy and all that was left was a gurney in the hall near the housekeeping area. A tech soon appeared to take her for X-rays and I took that opportunity to visit Ziva in the truck and let her out for a bit. She was really being good, knowing that there was a problem.

For those of you who require medical details, here’s what the X-ray revealed. She has two things:

  • Closed Smith’s fracture of left radius
  • Closed non displaced fracture of styloid process of left ulna

She broke both bones in her forearm.

Applying the splint. Not a fun thing.

Applying the ACE bandage. Not fun, either, but better.

Expecting a long, normal, emergency room experience, we were both surprised when the very busy doctor, a young lady who looked like she could be Lydia’s sister, appeared with news about what was going to happen.  With the swelling the only thing they could do was splint the break, which a couple of RN’s did, then they wrapped it with a large ACE bandage. The Dr. visited before we left, checking the wrapping, then pulled on Diane’s fingers really hard. I suspect that was to help align the bones a bit, and it hurt. Then we were checked out with instructions to follow up with an orthopedic doctor as soon as possible. The nurse gave us some pain pills for her to take until we could fill the prescription we received with the release paperwork.

In all, we were at this extremely busy emergency room for only 2.5 hours. That’s a record for us. Normally it’s 5 hours. We have lots of emergency room experience and can probably be considered experts on the patient side of things in that regard. Nurse Sarah could provide a more in-depth view of the hospital side from her perspective as a trauma nurse. Perhaps one day she will.

Initially, I was going to just take Diane and Ziva home to St. Helens, after the hospital released her, then return later in the week for the trailer. But, by then she thought staying another night in the trailer wouldn’t hurt any worse. So, we returned to the scene of the crime, got her some nourishment, and she took her pain pill. It wasn’t long before she was down for the count. According to her FitBit she didn’t move a muscle for almost 7 hours.

I slept on the blow up mattress that turns the couch into a queen bed. It wasn’t bad. I woke with no noticeable kinks.

After stowing the blow up bed, Diane got up and stumbled around a bit before eating a banana, a couple cups of coffee, a yogurt, and a piece of toast. Then she took another pain pill which soon caused her to stumble around a bit more as she made a gallant effort to dress herself one-handed in this confined space. She said to NOT share that she needed help putting on her underwear and pants, so I won’t. For that, I will surely be in trouble.

At 10:40 am went went down for a nap. When she woke up she took another pain pill and we began breaking camp so we could leave. She thought she would be able to take care of everything inside the trailer to prepare for the trip so I avoided an argument and just let her have a go at it. Turns out it was another good distraction for her from the pain, and she did a marvelous job. I took care of the various things attached to the outside, and hooked up to the truck. Then, we were off. First stop was the dump to empty the holding tanks.

We bid adieu to space B-13 and decided to take Highway 101 through Astoria, a much less stressful way to get home. The other way is on Highway 26 where accidents are common as folks rush back to Portland from the coast.

In Astoria we stopped at DQ for a Triple Berry Slushy for Diane and a Chocolate Malt for me. Other than that, the ride home was pretty uneventful. No wrecks to dodge, no bikes riding in the traffic lanes, and no rain. It was a good trip.

Tomorrow we visit the Ortho clinic at Good Sam for the next phase of solutions and recovery.

Hope everyone has a stellar day. Now I’m off to take Uncle Bill to the outer reaches of Hillsboro to retrieve his ancient (35 years old) John Deere Edger.

Appliances That Talk To You

Today I’m going to get excited about techie stuff. I’m doing that because I love inanimate ‘things’ that are capable of sending emails. Like our smoke alarms, for instance. Yes, they talk to me on a regular basis.

We have three of them in the house and they are all part of a Nest network that includes an internet connected thermostat, and a camera.

The smoke alarm that’s in charge, the one in the basement, I think, sends an email once a month to alert me that it’s going to test the system and to not be alarmed. It’s only a test. But, the will be noise. A few minutes later each of the three alarms are activated, one after another, with a lower volume than normal.

The thermostat doesn’t talk but it allows me to change settings from anywhere in the world. I’ve been known to fiddle with the temperature when one of the kids are house sitting for us during one of our infrequent absences from the premises. Keeps them on their toes.

My newest addition to my smart appliances is my CPAP. Yesterday morning, much to Diane’s delight, I had a 0730 appointment at the VA Medical Center in Portland for them to check my CPAP. It was routine visit at the end of which the tech gave me a new machine. I’ve had the old one for well over 10 years but it still works so she let me keep it as a spare should the new one fail. That was good because now I can just leave the old one in the trailer and not worry about having to move it from the the house. Moving it isn’t a big deal unless I forget to also move the power supply. Which I’ve done. More than once. Let me tell you – that isn’t a good thing to do if you’re trying to impress your spouse about how hard you’re working to ensure her vacation is going to be stress free, and quiet.

Now, the problem with not taking the new CPAP wherever we go is that by using the old unit I won’t get credit for using the new one and it sends me an email, every day, to tell me how great I’m doing. This thing even has an Airplane Mode so you can use it on an airplane. I have to admit that I would have never been tempted to do that.

The thing about having the Airplane Mode is that the unit automatically connects to the internet. All by itself. I find that interesting because our internet at home requires a password, but it connects anyway. So, I’m thinking that the NSA may have something to do with the people who own the company so they can keep tabs on me. The tech told me that the unit only transmits via internet, but it cannot receive. She told me that when I voice a concern that someone random hacker could get to my CPAP and suffocate me. I think she was truthful, but you never know.

I think that’s enough of that.

Today has been another good day because it’s almost supper time and I’m still wearing my pajamas. The reason I’ve been allowed to remained dressed in this manner is because I elected to (finally) do our taxes. I took it as far as I could but can’t finish until I get a question answered by one of the financial institutions with which we do business.

Now I’m going to get engaged with March Madness and watch basketball games.

Jerrie

 

Things & Stuff

Lots of Things and Stuff have happened and transpired over the last 10 days. Thankfully, Diane keeps good track of what’s going on by making sure everything is on our shared calendar. Even little things like “Jerrie take pills”. That’s an important one because, alas, I sometimes forget. I’m sure that’s a surprise to most of you, but I really do. Even when my overflowing pill case is sitting right in front of my keyboard all the time.

Using the calendar, I’m going to try something different and go in order. Doing that won’t, however, deter me from wandering off the beaten path once in a while to fill in where things need to be filled in.

First, Donna, Mother of Steffani, Wife of Jim, Husband of Bob, and Grandmother of Daniel, Tyler, and Maryssa, had a birthday on January 26th. I may have mentioned this before, but don’t feel like looking back in my posts. Jim thinks she only 58 but he’s like one of those records that keep skipping back, repeating the same verses over and over, and you have to bump it to make it continue. Since I’m not there to do that, he’s stuck on 58. I’m sure she’s at least 62 because I’m pretty sure she’s drawing Social Security now. This will be a shock to him, I’m sure, but he can take. Learning about that extra income will perk him up.

Reaching back into my ancient bag of IT tricks I was able to resurrect the Windows XP computer that belongs to my friend, Jeri. Now, getting an XP computer to function isn’t really as difficult as you might think because it is, after all, just a silly computer. The difference is that it hasn’t received any updates from Microsoft for a few years, and internet security has been absent for nearly as long. That would make one who does online finances a little jittery which is why I was summoned. It’s tax time, you know. Well, it’s almost tax time. That will be on April 17th this year since Jim’s birthday in on Saturday. He was born on the normal tax day. That’s April 15th, in case you were wondering. Jim will be 80 on that day. OK, now I’m feeling old …

Getting that old computer to respond was awesome and I left feeling pretty good about myself. Not bad for an IT guy who was dubbed “Mr. 286” at the peak of his career.

Next we have the Bethany Lutheran Church Annual Meeting. That happens once a year. That’s why I added “Annual” in there. This is the meeting where our Church Council, and Cemetery Board reveal all the secret stuff about their respective areas of church activity that they’ve kept secret all year. It’s all the time when new council members are elected. I may have mentioned in previous posts that I’ve served on the council for many years – about 15 I think – and have only been absent for one year. Sadly, that made me eligible to be nominated for another turn at the oars. Like normal, I accepted, as did Nancy, Shawn, and Randy. Nancy has been absent from council for a number of years, but Shawn and Randy have never served. So, we have new blood to spill. Our first meeting is February 15th. Until then I really have nothing worthy to say about this recurring aspect of my life.

I made a trip to the ENT Clinic at Good Sam Hospital in Portland and was quickly referred to the Vestibular Clinic to see what makes Jerrie almost fall down sometimes. Hopefully it’s not a vestibular schwannoma. That would be terrible. I think. I’m curious to find out. I was told the first visit will last 2.5 hours. Part of that time, I suspect, will be helping me off the floor while doing some of those fast turn exercises that led me to this point in the first place. That, and running into an occasional wall. Nothing major, just little mishaps that do not cause severe injury. Just a few nicks and dings that are quickly forgotten.

Then I went to OHSU (Oregon Health & Science University) which is located on Pill Hill next to the VA Medical Center and Doernbecher Children’s’ Hospital. Actually, Doernbecher is a OHSU facility. It’s complicated. Here’s what the entire mess looks like from a helicopter.

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If you don’t have a helicopter, you can take the tram that launches from the banks of the Willamette River. The tram looks like fun to me, but Diane won’t ride it.

tram

Our trip to OHSU was to, once again, participate in an intake process for a Diabetes Study for folks who are taking Metformin and whose A1C is above 6.8. I qualified because I take metformin and my last A1C was 7.4. So, I was looking at getting $10 a visit for the next 4 years. At the appointment I went through all the paperwork with Trish then she took some blood away from me while Brianna watched. Then I was released with the promise of a phone call the next day. Brianna called, as promised, and told me I didn’t qualify for the program because my A1C has mysteriously dropped to 6.2. This happened the last time I was interviewed for this program. So, I was out before I even got started and I had plans for that $10.

With that out of the way, I assisted Diane with some chores at our church to prepare it for their 37th Annual Quilt Show. That’s when all of the pews in the church are draped with elaborate quilts from all over the area as well as some antique quilts that have been in use for many, many years. It’s quit impressive and very beautiful. My job for this effort was to clean up the spots in the carpet where people always drop drips of wine with we have communion via intinction. We tell them to put their hand under the dipped wafer to avoid those drips, but not many listen. Thankfully I had a machine to help me and I’m happy to report that the carpet looks wonderful and will remain that way until we have communion again. The quilt show, in case you’re wondering, will be this coming Friday and Saturday, February 10-11, from 10am to 3pm both days. Downstairs there will be other displays, a bake sale, and sandwiches – egg salad and chicken salad. And pie. Lots of pies. Come and eat. It’s all good and it’s free unless you feel like donating to the jar located on each table. Donating is encouraged.

Another part I did was take photos of the Bethany Quilt Ladies who meet each Thursday morning and generally sit around drinking coffee and visiting, unless someone shows up, then they look busy. I don’t know how they do it, but they still manage to complete about 100 quilts for Lutheran World Relief every year. That’s amazing. This is, Right to Left, Vi, Pat, June, and some lady I’ve never met. Probably should have asked her name, huh? Diane said she is June’s niece.

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One of those days I got another haircut. That’s two I’ve had in the last few weeks. It wasn’t so much that I needed one, but the barber, some of our Grandchildren’s Aunt, came to the house and I just couldn’t resist. Diane got a haircut, too. She looks great with her new do, like always.

Jeran went on a bona fide date last weekend to attend the Winter Ball. It’s mainly for Juniors at school so Lydia, a senior, help organize it. While we were at Diane’s Mom’s, Jean’s, house the group came by for a photo-op. Included was the Prince – not a Princess – which was a first for St. Helens High. A great group of kids on the way to having fun.

Jeran, Danielle, Lydia, Julianna, and Fiona.

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That brings us to yesterday when I escorted my adopted Grandson, Ahmed, to our Lions meeting where he gave an incredible presentation about Pakistan, his home country. He’s really good at it. I call him my Grandson because he calls me Grandpa. It works. He’s living with Dan, Jennie, Lydia, and Jeran while attending St. Helens High School this year as an AFS student. His adopted parents, and sister, also attended the presentation. Jeran stayed home and ate spaghetti.

Another highlite from last week is that Lydia was one of the three students selected as Student of the week at the High School. The other two were boys. She was the best looking one in the crowd.

Sadly, I failed to get photos of Ahmed’s presentation so the day ended in failure but this is what he looked like from the back … on the left …

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… and from the front … on the right …

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The other people in there you already know.

Diane was summoned to the Court House again this morning. She wasn’t there very long before they released her into my custody so now I must regroup and work on being responsible.

My Brain

I guess it’s time to come clean with the results of the CT Scan of my head. That was administered at 0945 on Friday the 13th. It took us an hour to drive to the hospital and took about 2 minutes for the tech to do the test. That meant we had lots of time to do ‘stuff’ in Portland. First up was breakfast at Elmer’s Pancake House. From there I don’t remember what we did. Shopped, I think.

Apparently that short CT scan worked because my doctor left a message on our home phone at 1110 requesting that I call so she could talk with me about what the scan revealed. Since we were roaming around Portland I didn’t listen to the message until we got home, after the doc’s office was closed. Then I had to wait until Monday because I didn’t want to talk with the office’s answering service over the weekend.

I have to say that I was a little concerned hearing from the doctor so soon after completing the test, and that allowed my little brain to go through all kinds of gyrations and permutations about the possible results. Seeing all that going on im my infected head put me into overdrive which just made it worse.

So, I had Diane take me to town and drop me off at the Pastime Tavern and told her I’d have the bartender call her if I didn’t think I could walk home. She was happy that I didn’t just take the truck, like I’ve done many times in the past. I quit doing that when they moved the jail from the old court-house to the Sheriff’s Office on Old Portland Road. The old location was better because it wasn’t such a far walk for her to come bail me out. So, she dropped me off and I’m sure she was hoping I’d just forget our home phone number. But, I fooled her because a long time ago I had the number tattooed just above my left knee so I can read it when I’m sitting in the bathroom.

The evening of Friday the 13th, however, didn’t result in an arrest. Nope. I just sat around talking with people, drinking beer, playing pool, and pushing away all the touchy-feely women who seemed to think they could make it all better. Well, I’m here to tell you that I don’t put up with that kind of undisciplined behavior and I told them so. The fellows to whom I was kabitzing thought for sure that CT Scan was going to turn up something really terrible because at least 4 of the hand on ladies were easily 2BB’s. That’s code for 2 Beer Beauty. It means that after only 2 beers she’s a keeper. Normally it takes 7 or 8. So I’m told.

Anyway, after talking with the guys for a while I just decided to walk home and save Diane another trip. I’m that kind of guy, always looking for ways to make things easier for my one and only Love. Yes sir. I’m that guy.

On the way home I stopped by Diane’s Mom’s (Jean’s) house to use the bathroom but it was late and she wasn’t up. Fortunately, her property borders Milton Creek and it’s dark back there so I decided to take advantage. I didn’t have a choice, really, because Mom’s house is about halfway between the Pastime and Home.

The creek was rolling along nicely, and lots higher than normal with all the melting snow and rain, so I was very careful when I approached the water and made my way to a flat cemented area. I went there because I figured the rocks along there would be slippery and I’d no doubt wind up falling into the water.

Falling in wouldn’t really be a problem because the creek really isn’t very deep. It was, however, flowing very fast so dealing with the current would have been a challenge I didn’t want to face. That, and I really didn’t want to get wet.

As I was relieving myself the lights went on in the house directly across from where I was exposing myself. Before I could put myself back together I saw this bright flash that caused me to lose my place in space. The result, of course, was that I fell in the water and was swept away on a fairly long winding journey to the Columbia River.

I did everything I could to stop my forward motion but nothing I grabbed would hold me. I just managed to rip things from the banks as I swirled and swiveled downstream. Giving up isn’t normally my nature, but I decided to just relax and enjoy the ride even though it was dark and I couldn’t see much. That really didn’t matter, though, because most of my relaxing was staying afloat so I could continue breathing. I’m a fairly good swimmer so it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. At this point, I have to admit, that it really scared me when I fell and I’m sure I wet my pants. By the time I made that realization, it was a moot point because I was wet all over.

After rushing downstream for 15-20 minutes, it kind of got to be routine so I was pretty sure I would make it to the Columbia, and calmer water in pretty good shape. I got so relaxed with all the bumping and such, that I pulled my iPhone 7 out of my hip pocket. I was surprised that it was still there, to be honest, and I was very happy to discover that it really is water proof. I turned it on and checked my email as I glided under Highway 30. Then I opened bejeweled which really relaxes me more. Currently I’m on level 221 and I have 6,055,170 points. That’s an absolute truthism.

Finally, just as I finished another level, the current took a brief turn for the worse as it intersected with the Columbia, and I made an abrupt left turn towards Astoria, 62 miles away. I closed up my phone and returned it to my hip pocket and planned my escape from the river at the St. Helens Marina down by the Old Court House, where the jail used to be.

Staying afloat on my back, to conserve energy, I made paddling motions that would aim me for the docks. Knowing that the current could easily suck me under the pilings, I remained very alert as I approached the first dock, but got sucked under it anyway. Luckily, that put me into calmer water, but I still banged my head on one of the boats that always seem to be parked there. By the time I came to my senses I’d been sucked under all the docks, and 11 of the 13 houseboats that populate the marina. At the 12th houseboat I became entangled in a net that halted my progress downstream.

Getting out of the water in that flimsy net was a real chore and I know I was making a horrible racket. My thought was that perhaps someone would hear me and come to my aid. They eventually did, but only after I made it all the way onto the deck of the houseboat.

The owner finally came out to see what was going on, saw me, and went right back inside to get his gun while I just lay there trying to catch my breath. I was pretty tuckered out so I wasn’t too concerned about the gun.

Standing there, pointing his pistol at me, the owner looked around and discovered the net that had saved my life. His eyes went wide and he yelled at me, “You ruint mah net!” which, in fact, I had so I didn’t argue. I figured the manner of his speech and his excited manner didn’t have room for me to try to explain just exactly why I was laying there on his deck. Next he got his phone and called the police to report me as trespasser which is a terrible crime in St. Helens. At one point, while talking to them, he covered the the microphone portion of his phone, leaned toward me and said, “What’s yer name?” I promptly said, “My name is Doug O’Peal, but you can call me Jerrie.”

“How the hell do you get ‘Jerrie’ out of Doug O’Peal?” he bellowed in a questioning manner.

“It’s my mother’s maiden name,” I replied, calmly.

“Your mother’s maiden name was ‘Jerrie’?” he asked, with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“What’s her first name?”

“Diane.”

“Diane Jerrie?”

“Yes.”

The conversation, such as it was, deteriorated from there until, finally, the police arrived to find us verbally engaged with the guy still holding his thumb over the phone’s microphone. I guess he forget he was on the phone with the police. They weren’t happy about it, either, because they came in full tacitical assault mode, not knowing what to expect. Lots of flashlights and yelling people. Soon the contents of all 13 boathouses were standing on the walkway connecting all the houses to the shore and it quickly devolved into a party.

Five of the guys got out their guitars, a little blond highschool girl dragged out a complete set of drums, and one of the wives just happened to have a huge bass fiddle. The hoedown was on.

While that was going on I told my story to the police and it was evident they didn’t believe much of it because, I had to admit, it was a bit far fetched. So, just to make it easy on themselves, they cuffed me and hauled me away for trespassing, and for ruining this guys illegal gill net. After depositing me at the jail I have no doubt they returned to the marina to participate in the party.

Jail was no fun at all. I never is no matter how many times you wind up there. It always sucks. The only really good things about it were I got to take off all my wet clothes, I discovered that I didn’t have any contraband stuffed in my butt, and I got a nice set of clean orange overalls and a pair of socks.

I’m just gonna skip to the chase right here and get to the really bad part of the evening. That’s when I had to call Diane and ask her to please come bail me out again. She wasn’t really surprised but I was surprised when she agreed without any negotiating at all.

After all the paperwork was done, I was released into Diane’s custody. They let her keep the handcuffs and she made me wear them the rest of the night, chained to my table saw in the basement. It was not a good night.

I made it through to Monday, chained to that saw, and she finally let me loose to use the bathroom and to call my doctor about that CT Scan. Instead of talking with the doctor, they made me an appointment for Wednesday the 18th at 0725 in the morning. So I waited. Patiently.

On Wednesday, at 0725 in the morning, I was at the office and talking with the doctor. She’s really great, and I like her, so of course she’s moving to another state to practice medicine and I have to find another primary care. But, that’s not important here. She told me that they didn’t find anything catastrophic on the scan, but they did find some (insert really complicated Doctor Words here) that are common in people my age. She converted the doctor words into something I could understand. Apparently I got many small areas of dead blood vessels in my brain, none of which indicate that I’ve had a stroke, or that I’m failing due to alzheimer’s disease. I just have little shrivled up veins that aren’t a concern.

Really? Dead blood vessels in my head and I shouldn’t worry? Well, OK. I won’t worry. What’s the point? It is what it is and the only downside, apparently, is that the areas damaged in my brain are important to those who don’t wish to be injured. That’s just a guess, of course. I definitely have the injury problem but I think it’s in my genes, not because of some little dead blood vessels.

So, there you have it. My brain is fried.

I’m sure no one is surprised.

Cheers.

OH – PS – none of the foregoing is true except for the doctor’s analysis.

Chaos and My Brother

OK, folks. I just gotta tell ya that winter is getting old around here. We wound up with about 12 inches of snow a few days ago after multiple sub-freezing days, and it’s still here. This morning it was 12 degrees out there at 6 when my bladder alerted me to an urgent need. The dogs, of course, were rarin’ to go plow through the snow in search of critters that may have passed through the field during the night. The cat, however, doesn’t have any interest in going out to play in the snow. I don’t think she’s been outside for three days now. We think she’s kinda hibernating because she sleeps all day and all night and hardly eats, except for the residue from our yogurt cups. So, she’s ingesting only what she can use to ensure there’s no need to poop. Wish I could do that. Sleep all day, I mean.

Bottom line, this isn’t  very Oregon-like weather for our neck of the woods. Ya, I know … we don’t live in the woods, we live on the outskirts of town. I should have said that, “our neck of the outskirts of town,” I guess, but it just doesn’t have the same ring.

Twelve degrees! Maybe I should talk about something else.

Since most of my time has been spent inside I decided to tackle some inside projects that have been hanging around for a while. OK, for years. Considering my predilection for leaving tools in exactly the last spot I used them, it’s hard to find stuff sometimes. Well, like all the time, actually. I go in my shop and look around thinking that, “One day I’m going to straighten this all up.” Well, making a committment to work on finishing some projects makes it a necessity now.

The first thing I did was sit down and make a plan, listing all of the things that needed to happen to, say, saw a board in half. The ‘board’ in question is actually one of six I need to cut to finish the oak trim around the three windows we had Anderson install a couple of years ago. This is the lumber I have left to do them, but I need two 1×5 12′ boards for the big window. Ignore everything except the nicely stacked boards on the folding table up front.img_1553

Before looking for the boards, I had make room on the floor so I’d have a place to put all the stuff I’ve piled on the saw since the last time I used it for building Diane’s pantry drawers. That table saw will hold a lot of stuff.

The stuff on the floor included two or three Avon box lids full of all sorts of screws and bolts that I’ve not been able to part with over the years. I sat on the floor and went through them all, pulling out only the ones with phillips heads, or the shiny ones that need a flat blade driver. The rest I dumped into an empty Avon lid. The ones I kept went into a much smaller bucket. The assumption is that I’ll eventually find that bucket during the final stages of this cleanup.

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Then I removed everything from the work bench I started modifying in 2008. I removed the top boards, which weren’t fastened down, to eliminate that tempting horizontal surface. My original plan with that section of work bench was to make it as tall as the table saw, which it is, so I could use it as a outfeed extension of the saw. That would make sense if the bench wasn’t against the wall so now I’ve decided to lower it more and make it 29 inches high so I can sit at it and do stuff. That means I need to take it apart so I can trim off the excess. I’m talking about that thing in the back with the green paint on it. It used to be a ping-pong board.

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To trim off the excess means I need to unload the saw. To unload the saw I need more floor space, or another table, on which to stack it. Or, I can just add it to the other side of the work bench and no one will ever know.

Before I can use the saw I will need to remove all the excess stuff to Diane’s room so she can go through it to see if there’s anything of interest to her. She can’t do that right now because she’s busy going through old magazines so we can take them to recycle. She’s been doing that for about a week. There were lots of magazines but she’s done an excellent job and now there are just a few. I went through some of my magazines, too, and did purged most of them.

My ultimate goal for the work benches, both sides, is to build sliding draws, shallow ones, that will hold stuff I’ll actually use. That’s where most of the stuff in boxes on the floor is going to go.

Do you see this vicious circle I’ve created for myself? It’s just terrible, but I’ve made it work. I just want it to work better now that I’m more infirm and prone to dancing sideways once in a while. Extra stuff on the floor doesn’t help that at all. If I used my cane like my doctor ordered I would be better off, but that would leave me only one hand to stack stuff. Here’s some more chaos that I must deal with.

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Then, when all that has gone away, I must find time to do something with these old windows I salvaged from the old house we moved out of in 2007. Yeah, they’ve been in the basement that long.

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Yesterday Diane and I braved Highway 30 and drove to Portland to honor my appointment for a CT scan at Good Sam Hospital. It took us about an hour to get there, normal, and it wasn’t a terrible trip. Lots of ice on the road making it pretty lumpy. From the time we parked in front of the hospital until we were back in the truck was a total of about 20 minutes. The scan took about 2 minutes. The rest of the time was spent walking to the imaging desk, and checking in. The scan was ordered to see if there was anything in my head. I’ve had them before and, at that time, there wasn’t anything there. That should confirm what a lot of you may think about some of the things I do and say. Nothing there.

From Good Sam we headed to Hillsboro for breakfast at Elmer’s, then, thinking ahead, we went to Costco for toilet paper which we knew we’d need as soon as we got back home. The toilet paper and ‘other’ stuff only cost $400! It snowed at Costco, too.

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The trip home was tricky because Cornelius Pass is closed so road crews can remove all the trees that succumbed to the extra weight of snow and ice. That meant we had to take Highway 26, bad on a good day, all the way into town to hook up with I-405 then Highway 30. I was driving or I would have taken photos.

We stopped and visited Diane’s Mom, Jean, before going home to make sure she wasn’t out of food and that she was weathering the storm OK. She was, and she’s in good spirits. A tough Lady for sure.

By the time we got home the dogs had been alone for almost 8 hours, and the cat was sitting on the front porch. The cat was not a happy camper. We didn’t know she was out when we left. Maybe she’ll start checking in and out like the dogs do. They never get left outside.

When we got home Diane insisted that ‘we’ give Panzee a bath because she smells terrible. So we (I) took her to my shower because it’s got a low threshold so I didn’t have to pick her up, and it’s a confined space that she can’t escape from. It was touch and go for a while until she discovered that the warm water felt pretty good and rubbing the soap into her incredibly thick fur was pretty much like great massage. Then she relaxed and allowed me to rid her of much of the odor she carries arround with her. The only way to make it all go away is to shave her bald, but Diane won’t let me do that until spring.

Then I cut her toenails and made one of them bleed so much that I’m sure she now hates me. Once I feed her it will all be OK. I had to follow her around the house for about an hour wiping up bloody spots until it finally stopped. I felt pretty bad about it and will most definitely be more careful the next time. Please don’t turn me in to the ASPCA.

Now some good news about a bad thing regarding a topic about which very few of you are aware. My older brother, Jack, was diagnosed with stage 4 prostate cancer. How long ago, I do not know. I just knew something was different but it wasn’t something I was going to grill him about. That would have been counter productive, so when we talked I did my best to avoid negative issues. We talked and argued like we’ve always done.

After the initial diagnosis it’s my understanding that it was presumed that the cancer was in his bones and lymph nodes. With this news he and Wynette made their way south on a scheduled trip to Arizona to visit with their Grandson and their new Great Granddaughter Kelly. It’s my belief that nothing could have delayed that visit.

For some reason he recently had to get different health insurance. In order to get tests he needed he had to have diagnosis from an in plan doctor. So he started over with the preliminaries. Finally, last week, he had a bone density scan and a CT scan. The end result, after all that insurance company hassle, he was told his cancer is confined to his prostrate. Not in his bones. Not in his lymph nodes. We are all incredibly happy about those findings.

Yes, there are still mountains to climb on Jack’s journey, but with these recent findings his mountains just aren’t quite as steep, or tall. They’re manageable and he’s tough as nails. His family and friends will continue to pray for his health and understanding about what is going on in his life, and we plan on witnessing a miracle when it all just goes away.

Please join us in that effort.

Thanks.

More Busy-ness and a little snow

I failed my doctor’s balance test a few days ago which resulted in three referrals to seek a cause. Apparently old age isn’t one of them, yet. The big one is a CT scan of my cranium to see if there’s anything in there worth worrying about, then a visit to an ENT guy to thoroughly check my ears, and finally one to my favorite neurologist to see if he can consult the CT scan for a solution.

Regarding the balance test … my doctor had me walk corner to corner in the small exam room and I had to turn around when she told me to. I did that just fine but the first step I took went a little side ways every time. See, I’ve known that was a problem for a long time but I overcame the problem by walking slow, turning around slow, and waiting for my head to catch up to my body on all turns before taking that first step. Works great. Yesterday when all the snow started piling up Diane wanted to know how deep it was outside the big garage door. So, I bent over with the ruler, did the measure, then almost went headfirst into six inches of snow. Totally lost it. What a rush. The snow, incidentally, is up to 10 inches now. Here’s some scenery for your next Christmas card …

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Cancelled my thumb surgery that was scheduled for Monday morning. That saved me a few weeks of physical therapy. I decided it didn’t hurt nearly as much as my shoulders and they are still functional. As long as it remains opposable, it’s good. I’ll just grit my teeth a little.

Cancelled installation of a new crown and saved $928. This was to fix the tooth that ejected its inlay not long ago. Doc Grimm glued it back in but said there was a little decay under it so would need to be fixed sooner than later. I decided to go with “later” and figure it will last another 10-15 years which should be good enough.

Water pipe connection failed on the supply line to our in ground sprinklers. Sadly, it’s between the meter and the house so it was pretty much running full-bore all night. Nifty. Can’t wait to see the next water bill. The part that failed was a plastic 90 degree PEX connector. I replaced it with a brass version so that won’t happen again. I had to hazard the snowy streets of St. Helens to visit ACE for the necessary part. Once home it took about 30 seconds to fix it. I Love PEX.

It took me a long time to get my photos uploaded so what should have been a simple exercise in making photos available for download turned into an all day event. But I did it. During all that time it snowed off and on bringing out total to around 12″. Most we’ve seen around here for many, many years. What fun.

Now I must stop.

I’m a Busy Guy – Update

It’s been a few days since visiting with you because I’m just a busy guy. Busy watching TV, busy napping, busy counting my carbs, busy researching things I have absolutely no use for, busy napping, and busy making sure Diane doesn’t get mad at me. I probably work hardest on that last one.

You may think that’s because I’m afraid of her, or that she’s just plain mean, but that’s not the case at all. She’s my best friend and confidant, and I just want to make sure she’s a happy camper all the time. Sometimes I do stupid things that go against my best intentions, but I never do hurtful things on purpose. So, as age progresses, so does my need to concentrate more diligently on doing the right things, all the time.

One of the difficulties I encounter every day, in that regard, is curbing my tongue when opportunities strike to point out a perceived flaw, or mishap not of my making. Mostly I’ve done that to deflect attention from myself because I have more flaws, and more mishaps than anyone I know. So, I’m really trying to add a little pause in my thought process to help avoid spontaneous, thoughtless output. It’s working better all the time.

Now, let’s talk about other stuff, like my right shoulder. And my left thumb.

The shoulder is pretty much trash, now. I believe I mentioned previously that my bicep tendon completely disassociated itself from my rotator cuff a few days ago which, really wasn’t a big deal because there was no pain involved. Then, when I forgot about it I moved in a way that created a situation very similar to when I first injured the shoulder in 1971, or 1992. I’m really not sure about that. Anyway, the main problem is it hurts to comb my hair.

Yes, I still have hair that needs combing. Diane’s solution, which is a really good one, is to either get a haircut. The problem is that I really like to comb my hair because I fear it won’t be long before it won’t be necessary any longer and I’ll have to wear a hat all the time so I don’t freeze right out the top of my head. It could happen. Even with just short hair. As for combing, I suppose I could use my left hand, but that just doesn’t feel right. You know? I’m right-handed and have to wield my comb, when I can find it, with my right hand. So, with my current situation, I find it necessary, as I did in the past, to raise my right hand to the proper level with my left hand to accomplish the task. It works. So there really is no need to complain about it, right? Well, since the shoulder only hurts when I use it, I forget until I reach for something that requires that bicep tendon. It’s becoming a minor irritant and I’ll be just fine. Just you wait and see.

The thumb is going to receive the attention of Dr. Kim, a reconstructive surgeon, Monday morning. He’s got me scheduled to check in to Good Sam at 0830 and will remove the appendix of the bone world from my left thumb. That’s another item that only hurts when I use it. The right one hurts when I use it, too, but he wouldn’t do both of them at the same time. It had something to do with feeding myself, and washing, which I didn’t understand because I’m married. Right? Why should I have to do those things myself when help is needed? Well, I must bend to his wishes because he’s the guy with the knife.

Regarding pain with I use the thumbs; it’s when I find the need to squeeze something to pick it up, like a book, or a plate, or a glass, stuff like that. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Now I must go prepare myself for a visit with my favorite Nephrologist, Dr. Smiley. Yes, that’s his real name. I’d like to introduce him to my dentist, Dr. Grimm, one day but that’s not likely to happen.

See you next time.

PS – my nephrologist said I’m good for another year.

Showers, Doctors, & Jack

Before going to the doctor I always take a shower. Diane insists. I suspect she does that because it’s assumed that one would put on clean underwear which is the really what she wants me to do. You see, it’s illegal to go to the doctor unless you have on good, clean underwear. The only exception is for emergency visits for medical attention, something I’ve done more than a few times.

The thing about those showers, which I always take because I know Diane is keeping track, is that I’ve been taking a lot more of them lately for  one reason or another. Simple stuff, like a congenital ingrown toenail, a sore thumb, a couple of routine checkups, and most recently, like today, for a bulge in my right bicep.

I suppose some may find that amusing because normal male people strive for bulging biceps. In my case, I only have one of those and, it’s lopsided. And it hurts a little. So, I call the doc to see if there’s an opening in her schedule, which there was at 3:45 pm, then worked a while longe on a piece of sheet rock I cut to fill the hole in the ceiling of Diane’s Girl Room when I worked on the bathroom above it about 4-5 years ago. All the sudden she said it’s got a gold breeze coming out of it. So, I fixed it. Then I took my shower and went to the doctor.

After looking at my arm, confirming my belief that it was malformed, my doctor said I should contact my orthopedic doctor for a more informed diagnosis, but she thought it might be a ruptured bicep muscle. Personally, I think there’s something growing in there because I can feel it, make it move around like a big marble. But, maybe that’s what a ruptured muscle is like. I won’t know for sure until I visit the orthopedic folks.

My first query to the orthopedic people I know is to find out if they are the correct ones. That field is so specialized now that I think they have different clinics for shoulders, shoulders to elbow, elbows, elbow to wrist, wrists, then fingers. Hopefully I’ll know more tomorrow.

Until that determination is complete, I’ll continue to work on the drawers for Diane’s pantry. Actually, all the drawers are done. I just need to stuff them in the cabinet and bolt them to the inside. After my doctor’s appointment, I went to ACE to get the proper size screws needed to finish the job. I should be able to get them done tomorrow. Unless I have to take another shower, that is.

In case you didn’t know, today is my big brother Jack’s birthday. He won’t tell me how old he is but I know he was born in 1938, or thereabouts. Following a family tradition, I called to wish him a happy day in person. It’s always good to talk with Jack, for any reason, but especially good on his birthday.

Next up for birthdays is my lovely bride – December 20th, my Christmas Baby.

Gotta go now.

Politics, Hallmark, & Projects

I’ve been thinking lately, not something I typically do on a regular basis. Normally I just roll with whatever’s going on at the time, oblivious to external influences. Consequently, I miss out on a lot of things that are apparently important to lots of people.

One thing that got my attention lately is the Texas Elector who decided he wasn’t going to cast Texas’ electoral votes for Trump because he’s an elector “to elect a president, not a king.” So, he’s resigning, leaving, which brings up another question in my head. How do these people get a job as an Elector?

Are they appointed by someone? If so, who might that be?

Did they win some sort of raffle at the last convention?

Did they happen to sit in the only chair at the convention dinner that had the winning envelope taped to the bottom?

Considering the fact there have been Faithless Electors in the past, those who do not vote for their winning candidate, I can’t help but wonder about either the validity of the elector process, or those appointed to serve as an elector. Seems like I read somewhere, in my long, arduous research on this, that the Electoral system was designed because voters couldn’t be trusted to vote for the most qualified candidate. Actually, I did read it somewhere, like here. Go figure.

Enough of that.

Now, how about some more interesting stuff? OK.

We’ve been watching a lot of Hallmark Channel movies lately, like we do every year at this time. All have Christmas themes, and all have great stories where the guy gets the girl and every one is happy forever after. Today was different, however. It was about a young woman who was transported 71 years into the future from December 22nd, 1945 to December 22nd, 2016. During her time in 2016 she learned about how small, kind things she did in 1945 had enormous impact on her town and families in 2016. Being able to witness these changes gave her a new outlook on life, changing her view of herself as insignificant to the understanding that even a small stone makes ripples in a pond. It was very good. So good, in fact, that we didn’t even take time to make popcorn. That is a stellar testament to our value of this movie.

I’d tell you the name of it, but I can’t remember.

I’ve got two drawers installed in Diane’s pantry. Only 8 more to go. As soon as I remember to buy the right kind of screws the next time I’m at ACE, I’ll be able to finish them up. I’m looking forward to the end of it because I’ve been talking about it for at least 7 years. That’s not all about procrastination, which I’ve very good at, but also about having lots of other things to do. So, drawers were never high on the list of priorities. That, and having emergent issues interfere with my 3-hour work day. Too many club meetings, also. Since I stopped going to all the meetings, I’ve been able to use my tools more often.

Part of the building process gave me an opportunity to use the drill press I was presented by PGE at my 20 year employment anniversary. I drilled about a zillion holes, some of which were countersunk to make shorter screws work like longer ones. All that drilling caused lingering pain in my right bicep which I thought was just normal tired muscles. Frequent checks, however, because it just feels weird, revealed to me that something is rolling around in there with that tiny muscle. I’m convinced it’s a growth of some sort, or that a portion of my bicep experienced a small explosion. One of these days I may call my doctor  to see if there’s a chance she can figure it out. Maybe it’ll just go away. In any case, progress comes with a price. Perhaps this is mine.

We’ve had snow. See.img_0787

Those are tiny little snow drifts made by our one day snow storm on our porch. I imagine they are pretty hazardous for small bugs in a hurry, but not too bad for people. The front yard was a winter wonderland, too, but I didn’t take a photo of that

I’ll stop for today on that note.