Monday, September 14, 2015
The Hospital called and in the One More Thing line of questioning outta me-was-hey is there anything special I need to bring? I have packed-so far-my 'Yay!' sweatshirt, some junk for my lips, Starlight Mints and I won a book store gift certificate from the library so I bought myself a Writers and Poet's magazine and I've been saving it to bring.
Bring nothing, said the Hospital.
And then I'm remembering this vacation we were going to take when I was little to Kalamazoo, Michigan to see my Aunt Alice and I remember being very worried that Aunt Alice wouldn't know how to make peanut butter on toast The Right Way.
When the hospital said "We have everything you need"? I felt worried they don't know I might really really need Starlight Mints or something.
You get these tiny zaps of concern-when you are all the time behaving bravely and strongly.
Right now I am in the middle of an Italian Ice. Lemon. I'm taking a break from that jug of stuff in the photo.
Our Quarterback's nurse Kim gave us the insider information that cherry was the preferred flavor and our Osco pharmacist -who is named after Kristy McNichol-said she's heard it tastes better chilled.
It tastes like kinda salty water that had a cherry lifesaver was dangled in it for a few minutes in 1972. I am halfway through. Yay me.
Yesterday, we were walking Grantley and we got jumped by another dog.
We were heading back home, we turned the corner and Philip saw the dog coming from across the street. The dog had come off the porch of his fancy-assed home and headed straight for Grantley. You know those scary pictures of the wolf in The Little Red Riding Hood? He looked like that. Mean and hungry and crazy.
I started hollering like a coocoo bird and the dog went for G Master G. There was a kind of a circular chase and I went down on the grass. Next thing I saw was the dog pinning Grantley on the ground and Philip screaming at the dog and things flying through the air and somehow the dog retreated and the jackass owner who watched it all happen-never made a move to stop it and he never went for a leash. He just stood there.
And do not get me started on his moron wife.
Grantley is limping, I have a cut on my finger and Philip lost his voice for a minute or two.
It was a really awful few minutes but as we were limping away kinda like something you'd see exiting the a Civil War battlefield-the three of us-I thought, okay wow.
While our counterattack was not attractive by any means, I actually pity whatever tries to get in our(collective) way.
The surgery is set for tomorrow (Tuesday) morning early, early, early. Thanks for your thoughts, prayers(if you're a prayer) and positive mojo. No visitors please, until I can invite you myself. Thank you for everything. And I think I'm okay for starlight mints.