The Good, The Bad, and...Again?
Thu., July 24, 11:11 AM
Sure, I wrote a title like this about a year ago; it’s just that the bad gets worse… Take yesterday — please.
The previous day, I had had some trouble with the portable oxygen set-up, but I sent Husband off with it anyhow. Maybe the nurse could fix it, and while he’s at Day Care, he has a concentrator anyhow. (Besides, as he will tell anyone, he doesn’t need oxygen.) The nurse phoned; she couldn’t fix it either. Okay, we figure it’s not the mini-converter, ’cause that worked before. It’s not the person, because we both tried and neither of us could do it. We decided it might be a defective oxygen cell, and I do have a full supply here.
Yesterday, I couldn’t make the thing work properly. U.D. tried, and she couldn’t do it either. I tried four different cells — nope. The nurse who drives the bus tried it, and she couldn’t do it either. I was just about in tears, and Husband was saying, “call somebody.” Well, I will, but they won’t get here in five minutes from forty miles away. I sent him off without the portable.
I called the oxygen supplier, who (1) couldn’t put me on hold without losing my call and (2) reminded me that they wouldn’t get there till the end of the day because I was not scheduled for a delivery (I know!). But the guy turned up at his regular time because someone scheduled us for a delivery anyhow; that’s done before delivery day. I handed him the mini-converter and a cell and said, “Here, you do it ’cause I can’t.” And he said, “The washer is gone; they do wear out.” He put in a new washer and left me a supply. End of problem.
However, I don’t know whether anyone besides U.D., who’s here with me every day, understands the underlying problem. For over a year, I’ve been saying I can’t do this any more. Just because I’m younger than Husband doesn’t mean that I am young. I’ll be ready for a nursing home before he is at this rate. And oh, yes, this morning he didn’t remember that I told him yesterday the problem was fixed.
The other annoying part of the past week is that it has been either too hot or too wet to go out and ride. It is also too wet to work in the yard. I decided I would do some cleaning in the basement, which is another ongoing job. I have found two large trash bags full of trash, stuff we will never use, despite what Husband thinks. Reel-to-reel tapes? (Not even good music; they must have been on clearance.) A McD’s beach ball, with a copyright date of 1985. Two big rolls of duct tape, so old that the adhesive has oozed into the wrapper. Parts of old radios and telephones. And even more bags (I thought I’d gotten them all), useless, brittle plastic bags with serviceable brown paper sacks inside, enough to recycle newspapers for another couple of years. There will be paper bags left when I die.
But that’s not all bad, believe it or not. I have found some storage space, including an old bookcase and, even older, my former kitchen table.
A really good thing I got today was a Peapod (by Stop & Shop) order. I’ve done this about five times over the last five months, and I stock up on things that are on special and heavy, like canned goods. The delivery instructions say, “nonperishables in the garage, everything else through the front door.” I can keep cans and soda bottles in the garage until I need them — as long as U.D.’s car is not there. (A story for another day.) But how much better to put them in the basement, away from the car!
The other stuff I get from Peapod is frozen packages, which they can transport so much better than I can. The driver brings it into the kitchen, and I put it away and check the list while he puts the other stuff in the garage. I arrange it at my leisure.
In case you’re wondering, there is indeed a delivery charge of about $10, plus a surcharge for gas. However, I have promotional credits that brought it down to about $3 today. Well worth it!
Let me tell you about some really good news. In about a week my brother will be visiting from California. He has a lot of people to see in a short time — a daughter, two sisters, an ex-wife, and assorted nieces and nephew — but I shall take what I can get. I don’t get to see enough of my little brother (who is about ten inches taller than I these days). Smile!
