|A lone daylily struggling to survive amidst seagrass.|
The Ultrasound appointment never happened. Couldn’t find a single parking place at the hospital - lots of handicap and reserved parking for physicians and police though - having driven around for 40 minutes in the 95’ heat being followed everywhere by other vehicles in search of the same thing. The appointment coincided with Visiting Hours, so that may have been the major issue. When I realized I was already 15 minutes late I gave up, disgusted, called the Center to report the situation and drove home for a good cold shower.
I’ve been knocking back Benadryl on my own and the swelling has subsided quite a bit, plus my boardwalk strolls seem to help too. Still, staying in bed with the leg elevated while reading seems to be the best of all possible things, at least until they can schedule another ultrasound.
In other boring medical news…The surgeon cancelled Thursday’s appointment to remove the stitches from the port-a-cath repair. It has been rescheduled for Monday morning. When I removed the most recent dressing however, the site doesn’t look promising. Again, the rim of the port is visible under the skin and I don’t think that’s as it should be. I’ve got a feeling she will have to remove the device, let it heal and maybe (I said, Maybe) try the surgery again. As luck would have it, I may not have to make that decision.
Weather has been pretty crappy these last few days and we all know that such things tend to piss off the tourists. On top of that, I hear the crazies are arriving early this season, more demanding than ever. Still, I wish I was working at the restaurant. I miss all the fuss and frolic that plays out during the season.
I walk on the boards and “make groceries”** as early in the morning as possible, so the hard-core grumps are still asleep, or sleeping it off. Yes, I hear the booze consumption is way up this year, too. Seems there ain’t nobody happy this summer season, and it’s just formally begun today. Not that anyone cares.
I’m also seeing a lot more bumper stickers that read, “Don’t Hassle Me, I’m Local” "Turn Off the F**king Phone" and the most popular, “If It’s Tourist Season, Why Can’t We Shoot Them?”…neither go over well with obnoxious visitors anytime, but this year, especially.
Me? I stay out of the way; away from crowds, large families with small children, and heavy traffic unless I absolutely must drive in it.
Meanwhile, I am not supposed to drink liquor, but my friend’s 90+ year-old mother is visiting from New York this weekend, and she makes the meanest whiskey sour on earth. She would also shoot my ass if I didn’t have one with her as we chat for an hour or two. She’s a delightful piece of work and I love her dearly. She (and the whiskey sour) may be just what the doctor didn’t order as a cure for my immediate depression. Hey! Couldn’t hurt!
**An old New Orleans-ism for grocery shopping.
And so it goes.