I showed up early to the hospital on my way to my Doc's appointment and they actually had Linda Lou sitting up in a chair. It takes a bit of effort getting her up and down but the hospital staff is very good at that. Maybe not so good at information but danged good at taking care of her.
Meanwhile the idiot in chief is doing his damnedest to remake our system into what the Brits face. Let's review: Linda Lou fell at about 4:30 on a Sunday morning. We live so far out in the country that we don't get the Grand Ol' Opry on the radio 'til Tuesday Afternoon. I had to mess with dogs and suchlike before I could go to the hospital, by the time I got there it was about 6:30 or 7:00, they'd already had her X-Rays and put her into one of those boot things and were working out a plan of attack.
They put her into a (private) room, the only kind they have in that section and, from there into surgery the very next morning where they inserted half a hardware store, two thirds of an oil derrick and, I believe, a 1992 Buick 3.8 Liter V-6 in there to hold those bones together. I may have some minor technical details wrong, medicine is not really my field, the important thing is that Linda Lou is getting as fine a medical care as anywhere in the world where, in Canada, where medical care is "free" she'd probably not have had her surgery yet..
She is getting visits from everybody in the hospital staff it seems, the Physical Terrorists a couple times a day, naturally her Doc and her Nurse, an aide, about half the days a student nurse, even a respiratory therapist to see that she's getting enough oxygen. That woman gave me an alarmed look when I told her we hardly ever watched that channel.
I left to go to my Doc's, having extracted permission to bring Linda Lou her favorite meal, a double cheeseburger and Tater Tots from Sonic (I'm not sayin' I married her because of the cheap date factor but...)
I got to my Doc's office and eventually saw the Doc hisownself instead of Amy, the PA that I normally see. Dunno why, I didn't argue though. The Doc and Amy see both of us, that's why they call it a family practice, I guess. So we spoke about me, he poked and prodded and, as expected, bent me over the table. They always give me a funny look when I carefully look to make sure the Doc doesn't have both hands on my shoulders during this process.
I'm too polite to ask why they have to reach around my lowest intestine before they can write my prescriptions but, what the hey, I got out with my scripts and an order for some fasting blood work and pee tests and off I went. I might walk better with that KY Jelly lubing up a friction point but am kind of leery about doing some kind of scientifical test. The good news is that there is an office of the Lab we use just a few blocks from the hospital.
From there I went to the supermarket and bought Linda Lou a six pack of her beloved Diet Pepsi and a package of blueberry scones and found a lemon chess pie on the marked down rack for me. Rigorous testing by one of the finest minds in the country (mine) has proven that marked down improves the flavor of almost anything.
From there a drive up to the county seat where the hospital is. I doubt many will care but we live on the very edge of our county and we seldom go there, the distance is more or less the same to where we normally go and there is much better shopping there. As far as we live from anything but pastures, lake and trees, we try to combine as many trips as possible. Anyhow it is close enough to make no nevermind which town is closer and it's actually about five miles closer to the county seat of the next county over the other way.
A quick stop for Linda's burger and back to the hospital only to discover that she had the catheter out, more progress! Linda Lou could not eat the whole burger but the dogs did not let it go to waste. Shortly after LL finished eating the Physical Terrorists showed up to help her back to bed. They told me she'd be moving to their lair in the hospital for the rest of her stay.
Shortly after that I left to come home, dropped my scripts off on the way and came home, let the Pugs out for their evening constitutional, then let CAP in and we all took a nap. Now, come morning, I get to try to bemember how to do a load of laundry and it's getting out of hand. Let's see, rule number one, do not wash my bright red shirts with my underwear...
So, we're muddling through. I think I have found a new home for Cochise Apache Princess, I'll know this weekend. I just can't take the chance of this hardly-trained monster dog and a Linda Lou barely able to navigate. Sigh. We're really too old for a dog her size, though, we'll stick with Pugs from here on out. What the heck, as long as the Pug can wake me up I can shoot the bad guy.
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