Thursday, September 30, 2010

Medical Report...

One of my unfavoritest places to spend any time, is any kind of a medical waiting room. In my humble opinion, aside from airplanes, they are the worst germ laden places on Earth. If I find that I must spend some time in one, as occurred today, then it is always my choice to stay as far away from other people as possible and I try not to touch any of the common magazines or newspapers.

Today, I not only had to have iron infusion, but I also had to have blood drawn. As I entered Senora West's waiting room, there at the desk in front of me was a poor soul. She was a woman that was about 80 plus years old, about 4' 6" tall with a walker. She was bent over from arthritis and could not straighten up. Her poor crippled hands looked like a tangled mangle of fingers from her debilitating disease. A rather large African/American woman with a Jamaican accent handed me a clip board over the poor woman's head to sign in. I did and searched for a seat. Now try to imagine this long narrow waiting room along with it's clients. On my right were 3 empty seats, then a young healthy looking guy about 22 years old, no one past him. On the opposite side of the room was a woman with an infant in a big over-sized deluxe baby buggy and a 3 year old that was busy carrying water from the cooler to her Mom, that really didn't want it, but kept the child occupied. Way farther down, all alone in the far end of the room was a pregnant girl intently reading. The chair of least obstacle was to sit in the nearest one, which was on my right and one seat over from the kid aged 22. That left one seat between us to keep germs from just jumping onto me.

Now here comes the little poor old lady and where do you suppose she chooses to plunk her skinny ass? Right, exactly between the kid and me, creating 3 in a row. What in the world was she thinking? She instantly went from a poor little old lady to the ENEMY! I've already told you about how I hate to touch anything in a waiting room, but not as much as I detest a sickly looking woman sitting practically on me. My defense was to get up, choose a magazine and sit my healthy ass somewhere close to the magazine rack.

About 30 minutes goes by and I notice that everyone is gone but me and people that arrived after me were being asked in to have their blood drawn. Pretty soon Jamaica calls my name and I approach her. She doesn't want to tell me that they've lost my standing order, but that's whats happened. So she asks me if I know what tests are to be done to me. I say, "CBC". Then I announce this is ridiculous and give her the telephone number of my doctor's office from memory and tell her to ask for Harris and ask him to fax a new one immediately. She does and about 7 minutes later the vampire lady calls my name and starts drawing blood and even found my vein on her first try. As I sit here tonight, I'm waiting for an assortment of symptoms to begin their attack on me from the other patron of Sonora West's waiting room.

I got an emergency call from the Lovely Jules tonight. She'd eaten all of her pain pills for her broken arm and didn't know what to do. I suggested she call the ER that she had gone to to ask for refills. She tried that and called me back to say that they were not only not helpful, but downright rude. I had a few pain pills leftover from the bout with my renegade dentist and asked her if she wanted me to drop them off. She said, no. That's way too much trouble and she couldn't ask me to drive all the way over for pills. I asked if she wanted them or not and she said, YES! I took the ride and guess what? She really did break her arm! That sucker was all twisted up and locked up in a bandage that looked really professional. The swelling made her finger look like sausages, black sausages and they go in the wrong directions. Not pretty. She took a couple of the pink pills and I stayed for an hour and wouldn't let her talk. I opened a few bottles of bottled water for her and peeled the backs off of 4 sticks of string cheese. She said she was good to go and I headed home to wait for my symptoms. Tomorrow she's supposed to have a little minor surgery to get it set properly. I'll keep you posted, she can't type!

Monday, September 27, 2010

Woe is Me...

There are some pretty strange happening going on in my life right now. The stars have got to be lined up incorrectly. Who lines up those stars anyway? Here is what's going on. My online life is abundant and lacking, all at once. I've heard from a vast number of women, one weirdo after another.

First is Carol, who writes and tells me her eyes change colors with the clothing she's wearing and pretty much, that's all she says. I didn't find her particularly attractive, so I went to her profile to see that she likes to drink wine after a long day. That's it. No other information. What in the word can I respond to? So I tell her that she doesn't afford me enough information to respond and perhaps she can still me a little about herself. She writes that she's a BJ Supervisor and has been for a number of years. Later in her email, she mentions that she works for one of the Scottsdale casinos. Frankly, I was relieved that the BJ referred to Black Jack, weren't you?

Next is Lynn, a rather attractive 53 years old school teacher. I was older than what she would have wanted and told me so, but I fought and impressed her with my demented wit and sang the song of the chase. Suddenly, after her telling me that she didn't want to give up her phone number just yet, I did some more of the courting dance and I'm be a "you now what", she sent me her phone number but........................... I never called!

And there is Pamela. I found Pam very attractive and 56. She just moved here from the Virgin Islands and we wound up on the phone for almost 2 hours on Saturday night. I called it our Saturday night date. She's bright, clever, quick, and well educated. She's here opening an IT company with her son. She did the same thing for a company called the U.S. Government prior to now. This morning I was just minding my own business when an email arrived and it was Pamela and she wrote me this amazingly long email. I started reading it with a smile on my face, when suddenly the topic kind of went from how wonderful she thinks I am, to her breaking up with me. It talked about a previous relationship in the Virgin Islands that she thought she was over, but apparently not. How does a woman break up with me, that I've never met? I quickly went in for the save and haven't heard back yet. I'm pretty sure it's not quite the end of the game yet.

Last is Gina. I just finished writing an email to her. She comes from a different dating service that I didn't even know I belonged to, but sure enough, it was lost in my spam at my old email address. Now here is a strange phenomenon about this dating site. None of the woman there give up their personal information easily. They insist upon hiding behind the site's anonymity. How weird. The same is true of Gina so far, but I did get her to give up her email address. I am sooo not a stalker, but is there a word that is the opposite of stalker? That's me. Gina is 62 but looks very young for her age. She's bright but cautious. The jury is still out on Gina.

Horrible news! The Lovely Jules broke her arm. She fell off of a ladder in her garage, while trying to get stuff out for her weekend garage sale. Thanks to God it wasn't worse. It was her right arm, but she's left handed. Can you think of a more uncomfortable way to spend the fall? She still has to have surgery this week to put in a pin. Poor Julie! Just last night, I asked LJ to marry me, once again, through a text message. She agreed and replied that only if I promised to tickle her back, "Nice and Easy" including when she gets wrinkled, until the end of time. I declined!

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Roger's Back!

In 1987 I married a woman and she had a daughter and the 3 of us plus Brad were all addicted to Chinese food, more specifically House Special Chicken, number 14. We lived around 32nd St. and Cactus and there was an old Bonanza Stake House converted to a China Village, which is a Chinese restaurant, not a village. We ate there for several years until one day it closed, due to poor attendance. Another astute observation was that many of the same people that worked there occasionally worked at other Chinese restaurants across the valley and they were all one family. They had locations at 90th St. and Shea, 27th St. and Indian School and the 32nd St. location already mentioned. At some point I became addicted to number 14, House Special Chicken. Our waiter Roger was a constant at the 32nd Street place. One day, it and he were just gone. I think that was around 1990. Roger would come to our table and even though he had nothing to say, he'd just stand there. At first I thought he was attracted to my cute step-daughter, but he would do it when just Brad and I were there too. It's just how Roger was.

Friday I had an appointment to get iron infusion and Eugie called me Friday morning and asked me if I wanted to have lunch. I did! I told her that I needed to be somewhere at 2 PM and she said she be happy to go with. I asked her if she liked Chinese food and she said YES! I was almost overcome with emotion. I cannot for the life of me, find anyone that likes that Chinese restaurant but ME! When she agreed to go, tears formed in my eyes. I hadn't been to that place for almost a year and my mouth watered all the way there. I talked Eugie into trying number 14 and she agreed. Guess what? She loved it. I may have found a partner to eat House Special Chicken with.

During the feast, I looked up and you'll never guess who was walking towards us with our egg drop soup? Twenty years had gone by and it really pissed me off that Roger did not have one gray hair and a full head of jet black hair. As he approached our table, you could see the slow recognition and by the time he got near us, he had this big shit eating grin on his face saying with his heavy accent, "I lemember you"! Well, I remembed Roger too, as he parked himself just smiling for an uncomfortable amount of time, saying nothing. I kept saying, "It must be 20 years", "Time sure flies" yet Roger wouldn't budge, just kept standing there nodding and smiling.

We headed for the doctor's office so I could get my iron. I sure do take my dates to nice places, huh?

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Getting Dumped...

It was a sleepless night, without an explanation. I finally took a pill that someone gave me, to put yesterday to an end. It was almost 5 AM when I last looked at the clock and before I know it, 8 AM was showing it's proud face. Putting a pillow over my head, I sneaked back to sleep until 10 AM and out of guilt alone, I forced myself out of bed.

On my Blackberry were a slew of emails and an indication that I had missed a call. after a couple of clicks, I saw it was Dr. Harvey phoning me. I listened to his message with his Romanian accent and struggled to interpret. He said we keep missing each other and he'll call me back if he doesn't hear from me. That was sufficient to get me to the coffee maker and start it through it's morning routine.

I texted Dr. Harvey on Friday and asked if Iron infusion can cause a fever and he never replied, which is unusual for him, so I figured he was on one of his weekend getaways or just busy. He called last night but his call said "Unknown Caller", so I let it go to voicemail, because I was dodging a call from an unknown woman. I returned his call but it went straight to voicemail, which is not his normal habit.

About almost six years ago, I awakened in a hospital bed not knowing why I was there, only to find out with detailed accuracy of my previous 2 weeks. Without going into detail, that most of you have heard way too much of, I had had open heart surgery and suffered kidney failure due to a poor performance of someone that will always remain nameless. A slew of doctors surrounded me and the faces and names just passed my path without any permanent recollection, with the exception of Dr. Harvey, who was so legitimately excited about my success at continuing my life, that it could almost be felt. He was and continued to be a large part of my recovery. Attentive and available are the two words that come to mind when recalling his performance. The first thing he did was give me his personal cell phone number, that I kept for all of these years and when I had a problem, I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to have a smart MD in your back pocket. One that was always willing to help and supplied you with many free samples on an ongoing basis. Some of the drugs I take daily cost about $200 a month to purchase, but Dr. Harvey makes sure I get them for free, by giving me the samples that the reps give to him. Over the years, I never added up the totals, but it comes to thousands of dollars. I really never took Dr. Harvey for granted, but when my tooth started acting up he offered to prescribe an anti-biotic until I found a dentist.

Back to my text message. After getting an iron infusion on Friday, I got immediately sick and fell asleep for 20 minutes in my recliner. When I awoke, I felt fine again and wondered if it was a reaction to the iron. That night, I developed a fever of 100, very unlike me. I texted Dr. Harvey, asking if the iron can cause a fever and he never replied. I thought about it a little and noticed that he wasn't returning my calls like he used to and wondered if he was becoming like every other doctor I'd ever known, unavailable!

Today, after discussing my previous fever and him telling me to cancel the iron for awhile, he said in his Romanian accent, "Listen, we have to talk". Where have I heard that expression before? Oh yeah, when someone is about to give you bad news! He started with telling me that his cell phone is not designed to be as efficient as he needs it to be, particularly in the case of an emergency and he's now directing all private calls to the directory service. In other words and he had the hardest time telling me this, he wasn't going to take my personal calls anymore. He dumped my ass!

In reality, he was a young struggling physician when I met him and his personal practice was just beginning. He was as good as any doctor could be expected to be, even better. He would call me every once in awhile, if he didn't hear from me. Who does that? He was about 36 years old and hard working with a young family. Now he's about 42, his kids are getting older, little league and family activities are no doubt prevalent and he needs to cut back somewhere. I get it. I do. You're always a little sad when a good thing stops, right? Sure was good while it lasted.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Explaining Lupita...

The purpose of this post may seem to make me appear vain or full of myself, but that is not the purpose of mentioning this. On Friday, all alone, I returned to the doctor's office in downtown Phoenix, after receiving a text from LJ that she was otherwise involved for the day. Lupita, who was generally described in a less than flattering fashion was there to greet me and greet me, she did. Her frown turned up-side-down and delivered to me the warmest smile in the history of the face! As I approached her secured desk position, I reminded myself of her less than courteous attitude and to my surprise she greeted me with "Hi Mel, back for your iron? I'll tell Donna you're here, no need to sign in, I know who you are" and she directed me to a seat. After sitting and minding my own business, an African American woman about 74 years old came in, checked in, and sat down next to me. Then, Lupita yells across the room, "I see you're here alone today, who's going to hold you down while they try to put the needle in"? At a loss for an answer, I pointed to the lady that just sat down next to me and said that we were together! Well, you would have thought I'd invited her to the prom. The elderly lady sitting next to me opened up and turned out to be hysterical! She told me if I tried anything she'd make me sorry and we laughed like a couple of hyenas until Donna came and saved me from this unlikely match. She was charming, 74 and a recent Phoenix transplant. We talked about her poor son dying of cancer, Obamas health plan and how she hates Jan Brewer. She was the highlight off my day.

Almost losing the point of even mentioning all this, Lupita was acting jealous! When she saw LJ, she decided to be rude to me. Could she have been feeling jealousy or was she just having a bad day?

Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Scent of Blood...

It's a big mystery to me, why my body, ever since my heart surgery stopped making it's own iron. It might have to do with my compromised kidneys, which is who prescribes iron infusion for me, the kidney specialist, and now in conjunction with United Health Care and Dr. Harvey, I am finally getting that issue addressed. He has scheduled 5 iron sessions for the next 2 weeks and the first one was Tuesday, with the second being scheduled for today, or so I thought.

The next phenomenon is that LJ gets the scent of blood and always wants to come along for the ritual. Is she a Vampire, I don't think so. Does she enjoy other people, namely me getting needles shoved into them, probably yes! So today, when I mentioned I had to get my iron infusion, she suggested we get together for the ritual.

We began with a phone call this morning with her confirming with me her intentions of coming along. She said she'd be over in 45 minutes allowing her time to get dressed, drive over and stop at Goodwill to search for treasures. I thought she was underestimating her arrival time, but about 45 minutes later there was someone literally pounding on my door, yelling, "What did you do, disconnect the bell"? I did, in fact!

She did her usual tour and started complaining that we'd be late. Our plans were to eat lunch and then make it over to Dr. Harvey's office by 1 PM. We arrived at La Pinata on 19th Ave at about noon, plenty of time for lunch and a leisurely ride to the doctor's office. That didn't stop LJ from being hyper. I've been eating at this restaurant for 35 years and believe it or not, know what I want off the menu. Julie, on the other hand has her glasses out and is studying. We order and our meal arrives at about 12:20, still plenty of time. I'm presented with my "usual", a Machacha burro, enchilada style and it's about 2 LBS of shredded beef, cooked to perfection and seasoned accordingly. With my artificial teeth, I was worried I'd wear them out, just with this one meal, but delicious. LJ did an amazing job eating, fast and efficiently, she wiped out her food like it was the first time she'd eaten in weeks. Anorexia never looked so good. After a brief argument, I/we determined it was LJ's turn to buy and she sadly placed her credit card on the table, only to see it snapped up by Juan, our waiter.

Off to the doctor's office. Made it there with 5 minutes to spare and was greeted by Lupita, the new receptionist, the unhappiest person in town. Her attitude, or lack of one was palpable. It oozed through her pours. Total disgust with her being there and her job. I walked up to her medical office window and realized she really needed bullet-proof glass to protect her, like the banks sometimes have. She had a face that you just wanted to smack! Without looking up she said, sign in please. I said I was just there for iron, should I still sign in? Yeeees, with 2 syllables was her answer. LJ and I sat down and discussed our receptionist's attitude without moving our lips. You can picture it, right?

I tried to show LJ around the place when she mentioned that she had a doctor in this office too. Very likely because 39 doctors work out of that location. I showed her the water cooler, then the magazine table when suddenly the sour pussed receptionist yells, Mel! I look up and begin to rise when she announces that my appointment is for tomorrow, with the smuggest, condescending, most arrogant attitude you'd ever seen. She yelled this to the entire room. I casually explained that the card that was given to me said, Thursday at 1 PM. No answer. She then says she'll ask the lady that gives iron if she'll squeeze me in, then about 5 seconds later says, NO! We'll see you tomorrow at 1 PM. I mumbled something on the way out, when LJ sweetly said, I'll come with you! I appreciate the company, but how embarrassing!

I was about out of the candy that I'm addicted to, and really needed to go to Costco Business store for a fix. We stopped there and ran into the largest sale of Costco's history. Their expo sale, whatever the hell it was, it must have been good because Costco was a ZOO! Mobbed would be the word for it. They must have been giving things away, because people had those big pushcart loaded to the brim with merchandise and being pushed by little old ladies. By now LJ was really nervous that she's miss some lady that she was donating a rocker to, that was going to be at her house at 3. But not so nervous that she didn't make me do an emergency left into a Goodwill store that she had somehow missed earlier. We shopped, I found 4 books to buy and LJ came up empty.

We headed out and unloaded my car and LJ had plenty of time to make it home to greet the lady................unless another Goodwill popped up!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Qwest to the Rescue!

In spite of the fact that yesterday's post was to mention my senior moment, I entitled it Blame it on Qwest and Qwest came to my rescue. They weren't able to do a thing for my bout with Alzheimer's, but Stephanie Lake wrote me today about my Qwest problems and singlehandedly resolved everything, in spite of my continually arguing with her. Hopefully next month will not present me with a plethora of duplicate bills and my Directv will not be turned off. If, in fact anything goes wrong this time, I'm giving up my computer when I'm not stealing a signal and will watch only what my old rabbit ears afford me. I still have them and the same aluminum foil is just waiting for another chance to prove it's on there for a reason, besides tradition! Thank you Stephanie!

Monday, September 13, 2010

Blame it on Qwest!

Uh oh, my age is showing. After a successful attempt to speak with Barry, the only other person in the world that is as available as me, it went something like this. I called him, he told me he'd call me back in a few minutes, he was in the middle of something. I waited about 20 minutes and decided to use the rest room. I no sooner closed the door and he called. The message said to call him back, I did and got his voicemail. He called me as I was consuming my first meal of the day at about noon. I told him I'd call him back and I did, but he was talking to his lawyer and told me to sit tight, it wouldn't take long. He called me back and we chatted for about 5 minutes about local news and he got a call back from the lawyer. I told him not to call me back, we're good. Whew!

I showered, shaved and got dressed. I sat down to put on my shoes and started watching some show about young pretty girls that hate their looks and fell asleep, but only for 15 minutes. Totally disgusted with my latest habits, I walk down to the mailbox to mail something that's been sitting around all weekend with a stamp on it and I collect my mail from today and while I'm walking back, strumming through my latest bills from Qwest who sends me about 3 bills a week, since when I opened the account with them, evidently my agent was new and opened 3 different accounts for me. All at once, I looked up and didn't recognize anything and wondered where I was? That's when I realized I was so engrossed with the horrors of Qwest, that I'd passed my house and was about 5 houses down from it. That's when I realized my age has finally caught up with me. I walked into my house and looked down and there in my shirt pocket was the letter that I went to the mailbox for, in the first place. Maybe I'll mail it tomorrow?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Getting in Trouble and Never Leaving the House...

Did you ever do this? I just finished writing a long detailed email to the Arizona Dental Board reporting Dr. Lloyd to them, for his almost criminal acts towards me in the field of dentistry. He did not supply a minimum of dental care when he selfishly treated teeth that were terminal. I liken it to doing a face lift to a dead woman. I wrote this email using the best choice of vocabulary available to me through my high school interrupted education. I know I misspelled words like "Pennecillan", but wasn't worried about it because we have spell-check, right? I used dates and results and how he lied to me and frankly, when I hit send, I only had one thing left to do and that was to hit "spell-check". Do you know the feeling when you send something off to it's recipient knowing full well that you're going to appear like a blabbering idiot because of the way you chose to spell words like tetth (teeth)? That empty feeling in your stomach as you try to dive into the computer to retrieve the rushed email, but to no avail.

I just got the reply from a very charming lady that struggled through my email and it said, (and I could picture her actually forming the words and speaking very slowly to me). "Please download and use the proper form supplied" I didn't really want her to know that when I first got my computer, that I incorrectly installed Windows email and since that date, many times when I try to contact websites, I get a sign saying, "Since you were too stupid to install Windows Email correctly, you cannot use this website". With my head down, I go elsewhere.

I called the Lovely Jules and my buddy in Florida Barry, both well versed on the computer issues and both said the same thing. They just didn't know the correct way to do it. It has to do with POP3 and SMTP carriers for incoming and outgoing emails, DUH?

Well finally, the nice lady at the AZ Dentistry Board sent me the necessary forms due to my imminent stupidity, but guess what? Due to the DOC format, I couldn't open them. Do you think I'm going to tell her? Noooooooo!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I Already Tried an Apple a Day...

I had a busy day today with doctors and blood. I got a call from my doctor's office saying they had the results of my recent blood tests from last Friday. Not good. It's a miracle I'm still breathing. My levels are so out of whack, that he took me off of some of my meds for a time and wanted me to retake the blood test today. At first I argued, pretty much because I hate going and getting blood drawn from girls that haven't a clue on how to find a vein, particularly when they all tell me mine are really easy to find. Last week, my Creatinine level was extremely high, indicating that my kidney function in compromised, but I tried to explain to the doctor that LJ usually stops one organ or another when in her company and it was my kidney's turn. He wasn't going for it and I had to repeat the test today. Fortunately I didn't get the same girl this time and it went rather quickly and without splashing too much blood around the place. She knew to expect trouble when I asked for rubber gloves, goggles and goulashes to protect myself with.

I went to the doctor's office where his assistant was there to give me a Epogen injection and scheduled me for a series of 5 iron infusion visits, a another 5 scheduled for next month. My iron saturation is 12 and is supposed to be around 50-55. My hemoglobin level was way low too, at 9.5. Should be in the high teens, at least. So there was a reason I was so severely tired recently, but without insurance, good blood levels are a luxury. God Bless Medicare!

Sunday, September 5, 2010


I've been feeling this blog post coming up for quite some time, but had hoped it wouldn't surface, but alas some things just cannot be squelched. This is what's going on. I'm due to get divorced in 2013 and I'm afraid it's not going well for me. Why, you are asking? Well, if history presents itself in the way it has in the past. I got divorced in 1980, 1991 and 2002. That's every 11 years. I was due to get married some time around 2009 or even this year, but things are just not going well. No candidates that I feel are good for a 5 year marriage. The playing field is getting pretty unpopulated. Or my criteria has gotten tougher. Here is a list of potential candidates and you'll understand why. First of recent, there was the flight attendant. Great pictures, personality that was charming and pleasing in every way, just as if you were a passenger on one of her flights. We spoke for several 1 hour conversations, while she was in Tucson, Washington State, Hawaii and Alaska (and it turns out you CAN'T see Russia from there). She was gone a good deal of the time and when she finally came to Phoenix, we rushed to meet and what did I see? A charming flight attendant that was old beyond her years and didn't have the ability to share her personality beyond flight information and generalisms. No depth available and almost got a whiplash getting into her car after our meeting. That woman knew how to lock a Toyota door!

Then I'm talking to a woman named Sonny, but it turns out not to be her real first name. She shared her real first name with me after a 1 hour talk on the phone, but wouldn't disclose her real last name until she knows me better, so I Googled her phone number and got it pretty easily. Who cares what her name is? She's 59 years old and going to nursing school. That I respect, but her honesty changed as she began trusting me more and more. Originally, her house was for sale for a million five, but it turns out that she doesn't reside in it, as it's really owned by the IRS. She's living elsewhere and going to nursing school and must of her story doesn't add up.

There's Claudia, a Jewess from NYC, (my favorite) that used to be a therapist but currently owns a resale consignment shop somewhere in Scottsdale, but won't disclose where. Frankly, I don't suspect it exists, but she interests me from a business standpoint. I'm reluctant to call her again, because all I want is to pick her brain and perhaps copy her business, if indeed it exists?

Then there was another MJ. This one I actually HATED just from a brief conversation. I saw her online and remembered that we had had some dialogue about a year ago and she remembered me. She told me that if I wanted to meet her and she meant on the phone, I'd better hurry! Not your typical reaction to a request for a phone number. I asked why and she said she's about to hang it up! Give up on online dating and start going to bars. Again, not typical. She gave me her number and I phoned her. She told me right up front that she doesn't like talking on the phone, doesn't want a phone relationship and no pen pals and wants to meet, right away! (Hey, it takes all types.) I agreed to that and we continued a short conversation, as I wanted to check her grammar and personality. You know, just get to know her a little. At some point she told a story and I commented that she was a "tough old broad", just joining into the conversation, not meaning anything derogatory and there was a long uncomfortable silence, after which she said, "Don't EVER call her old again"! It was at that very second I knew our relationship was OVER! I keep her number on my phone, just in case she calls again, I won't answer! D-E-A-D!

Another lady wrote to me on the website wanting to know if I knew how to use a lawn mower. She has a house in Arcadia and is getting too old at 61 to mow her own lawn. You can imagine my answer to her. Turns out that blowing leaves is as far as I ever got in Arcadia! (private joke)...

One woman wrote saying she thought I was very clever, but she's the same age as me and though she might be too old for me. I replied yes, you and I and I are BOTH too old for me! The following day, she wrote that yes, she recalls writing to me. Hmmm.... I checked her profile and sure enough it said in black and white that she drinks "regularly".. With my new "holier than thou" attitude about drinking, she just won't be a future wife.

So I'm sorry to report, there will not be a divorce to celebrate in 2013.............unless I hurry!

Friday, September 3, 2010


Well my title pretty much describes how I feel right now. Len is the name of my best friend's kid brother, a dentist in Chicago, he's 60. I called Len today to get his opinion of my latest dental report and he checked with the Arizona Dental Board and the results left me flabbergasted! The only problem that Lloyd did not have was an addiction to making love to lizards. That's right. His discipline record was as long as my arm and he was found guilty of issuing prescription for controlled substances unrelated to dentistry. Basically selling prescriptions for drugs like Oxycontin and Vicodin, double billing for dental work and sexual addition. Over the last 20 years his license was suspended more than it wasn't and if I'd looked for a worse dentist, it would have been hard to beat his horrible record. He was ordered into rehab for addiction to alcohol and cocaine and also sexual addition.

On a better note, I was accepted for health insurance and once again will be able to feel comfortable enough to actually get sick. My new insurance card came today so I rushed over to Sonora Health services where the young innocent girl actually made hamburger meat out of both my arms, looking for a vein.

My first stop of the day was to Costco for a run for water and eggs and who do you suppose I actually tripped over when leaving? That's right, the Lovely Jules. You could have knocked me over with a feather and I mean it literally. She was there interviewing the phone salesman for her new secret shopper job. She bought me a coke and a book and we spent the rest of the day together. I like a woman that showers her men with gifts...

LJ became my wife for membership purposes only. I enrolled her on my Costco membership card as a significant other. Jules wore white for the occasion and from there we headed to the vampire's office (Sonoran Health Services) for a good old blood letting.

I was in a pretty good mood all day, until I saw the previous record of my delinquent dentist. I couldn't have made a worse choice of I'd studied it. To add insult to injury. In 2007, someone sued him and was awarded a $102,000 settlement as Lloyd went bankrupt simultaneously. The poor victim finally agreed to accept $5000 as payment in full and got it only by putting a lien on Lloyd's house that he just lost in a short sale. That means, no mal-practice insurance, I'm almost sure. Whoa is me!

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Oral Surgery...

I just got home from my visit to Jeffrey Greene DDS. I found him to be gentle, HONEST, expensive, but realistic. I certainly wasn't expecting to hear the bad news he gave me today. We had a heart to heart talk about how he acquired his practice and my current situation and he laid the bad news on me. He began with, he never thought he'd hear himself say this about another dentist, but I should contact an attorney about medical mal-practice! With my mouth agape and not from the examination, I asked what was wrong. Rather than explain it, he showed me my ex-rays of my teeth that Lloyd allegedly worked on, but destroyed. All of the teeth that he worked on, he drilled right through the tooth into the bone and filled the bone with dental filler. The filler is considered a foreign object to the human body and it is creating infection to combat it. I need to remove all of the teeth and have oral surgery to scape the filler out of the bone and all of this out of my personal pocket and my personal mouth! He also said that due to bone loss, it was just for Lloyd's personal financial benefit that he was selling me crowns and root canals for teeth that did not have enough bone left to support them. So I'm personally frustrated and am awaiting a letter from Jeff, my new dentist, that I can send off to the Chase Bank, then the Arizona Board of Dentistry, because according to my new guy, Lloyd should NOT be practicing dental medicine. Well, that explains why he won't answer my calls. He's required by law to inform a patient of the errors he made so I may take action to correct it. He's hiding under a rock, instead. As much as I don't want to create havoc on a guy that is already suffering, Lloyd left me no choice. Jeff says the temporary fillings I have in place should last long enough to give me some time to get used to the idea of having all of the teeth extracted and replaced with artificial means, either implants or a partial plate. Damn it!