Sunday Linda Lou was all discombobulated, running her walker into things, not being able to talk, just having a very hard time. By bedtime, though, she was somewhat better. When she was on her way to lie down I told her no drama allowed in the morning. So, she woke me up at about 7:30 AM to put Princess out, that dog does not like anyone else coming in the house and Patsy, our neighbor, is helping with Linda Lou's dressings on her leg.
So, I put Princess out and went back to sleep. My assistant sleeper, Bingo T. Pug and I were sleeping the sleep that only those with a clear conscience are allowed when Linda Lou woke me up, too early, BTW, telling me she had a screw coming through her skin and we needed to get her to the Docs to do something about it. Seems the elevation of her leg and the compression bandage was working well enough that the swelling was down so much that the wreckage in her leg was coming through the skin.
The good news, there was no drama, only a catastrophe. Sigh. So, we were convinced that Linda Lou would be in the hospital again so we packed a suitcase and suchlike and headed in to the wound Care Clinic, which locks the door between 12 and one for lunch. They had already told us that there would be no doctor there after noon so, when we couldn't get through by phone when noon came and we were still miles away, through the small town noon traffic, we changed to go to the Emergency Room in the same hospital as the clinic is.
Well, as we were sitting in the waiting room of the ER, the Wound Care Clinic called us on the cell phone and said they were waiting for us so, back to the car, around the front of the hospital, into the main entrance, up the elevator and down the hall, and there we were.
The looked at it and called the Orthopod. Meanwhile, the Doc they Shanghaied to look at her there started lecturing her about how she could lose her leg and to start following directions. I don't know that it did much good but I do have a little hope.
From there we went to the Orthopedist's office and sat around while waiting to be squoze in between appointments. More X-rays and waiting and we finally got told we have to see another surgeon who will go in, take all of the hardware our of her leg, put one of those outside frameworks screwed into the bones from the outside and, hopefully, after two unsuccessful tries, fix the broken bones so they can heal.
I only hope this new Doc has the sense to look at my Linda Lou and figure out that she is not some 92 pound ballerina trying to lose five pounds. We'll see him (?) next Tuesday. This Doc works out of Medical City in Dallas where I ended up after my stroke. Med City is one of the premier hospitals in the State so I fully expect it to be on the chopping block once Obamacare hits, unless the Republicans win with margin enough to kill this monster. Yes, everybody knows we need some form of medical reform, a couple thousand page bill that no one read before passing, ain't it.
Anyhow, we finally got out of there a bit after five PM. Since I left without breakfast, by then my stomach was gnawing on the back of my belt buckle. The last time we'd been to town we were going to this little take out Pizza joint, Peddler's Pizza that we like. Then they'd had a transformer blow up on the pole outside and so we were out of luck. The only good news of the whole day was they had lots and lots of volts and amps so I ordered a couple of pies, one for me and one for Linda Lou. She, somehow, decided she's a California girl and wants pineapple on her pies. I hope no old Moustache Pete Mafioso ever sees one of those, he'd machine gun the whole joint.
The good news, I had something to eat. the bad news, I had to smell it all the way home. The worst news of all, I had to stop and pick up a couple of scripts for Linda Lou and Wally World. The have a new policy. You go in and wait. Then you finally get up to the cashier and she gets the pills and rings them up and I get the honor of paying for them. At that point, those pills are my property, right? I've paid for them. But, noooo! Now I have to move down and wait for the pharmacist to stop whatever he's doing, like filling a scrip, and come up and check to see that he did his job right, meanwhile, causing me to wait and whoever in sitting on those stupid steel benches waiting for their meds to wait longer.
You may not believe this but I had a little something to say about it all. I do not understand a business that is bases on customer service to go around making life more difficult for the customer. We transferred all of our scrips from Brookshire's, a state of Texas grocery chain, to Wal Mart when we retired so we could get a scrip wherever we traveled in retirement. then the Donks took Congress in '06 and, since then, we haven't been able to go to the mail box every day. I moved my scrips back to Brookshire's because I kept getting excuses instead of a full prescription. Looks like I'll have to do the same with Linda Lou's scrips.
Anyhow, I finally got home and got something to eat. I deserved it. Bingo and Miss Priss got Pizza Bones. They deserved those.
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