When I left off last time, I had just had a PICC line installed into my chest and I think that before the dust cleared from my head it was already 2 PM. I had been promised that after that procedure I'd be free to go. I was returned to my room by means of a gurney with a cute female driver, I might add, my favorite type of transportation. As we would cruise the hallways of the hospital, I'd lay very still and when we'd approach civilians coming to visit friends and family, I'd come from the dead, which is what they all think they're going to see, to shock them with a friendly hello! I think one old lady soiled herself.
So I'm delivered to my room and immediately begin to dress for discharge when some nurse tells me, not so fast, they still don't have the necessary okays to release me, but assures me it's just a matter of paperwork. It might take a few hours, because the doctor that installed my PICC line didn't fill out his paperwork properly. Well, I'm not always real tactful when I'm pissed, so I explained as nicely as I could that I am not a prisoner here and paperwork or not, it's really not my problem, because once I get my pants and 2 shoes on, I'm leaving! I dressed as slowly as humanly possible, but as I said my goodbye to Fred and walked out to the nurses area, I received the looks that a non-conformist would receive. Suddenly, I nurse that was on the phone yelled out, "Let him go, I got the release signed". I smiled, said my thank you's and goodbye's and split. As the elevator door closed on the 5th floor at Good Sam's, I heard an audible, WHEW!
I took my car out of valet parking, another nice touch for patients and took the long ride home to Glendale for one of the last times, as the move was the next thing in order. I arrived around 3 PM, peed and hit the ground running. Brad and my 8 year old grandson Max showed up for the moving portion of today's entertainment and we loaded my new truck and and prepared for the first load to North Scottsdale. One of the things that was scheduled, was to transport my old 85 Red Corvette that had been in storage all year, to it's new home in Scottsdale. I asked Brad if it was okay if he drove the truck and Max rode with me? With his approval, Max and I took off. I drove while Max asked the questions that an 8 year old might ask. Do you like Corvette's, do you like red? Are we almost there? Suddenly, he tells me to turn down the treble. I have no idea of what he refers to. I said, what treble? The treble on the radio, he replies. I tell him that I don't know how! He points to the treble adjustment on the radio and says, right there! Humph, I comply, He says, better. You know I've had this car for over 10 years now, and no one has ever complained about the treble!
Now Max is reading a book as we ride and I'm sure that he's strapped in properly as I keep looking over at him in complete disbelief that he is mine, one generation removed. My nose, my hair, my eyes, even my big ears. I said to Max, you know we seem to have the same kind of ears? He looks up from his book and looks at my flopping ears and says, yeah and looks back down at the book. I ask him if that's all he has to say about the subject and he puts the book down on his lap and just stares at me for about 5 seconds and says. "You want me to make a big deal about it?" Yep, he's got my sarcastic personality too! (poor guy) Brad tells me that he's the class clown and that sounds very familiar to me, hmm....
We arrive at our destination without incident except that Max got a big kick out of us pulling up next to his dad driving a different vehicle and making wise cracks to him at red lights. When we got there, Brad did most of the heavy lifting, as my frail body has seen better days while I gasped for air in the shade. Finished for time being, we headed back to the Glendale location, when my phone rang and it was some guy that I had promised to show my truck to on Saturday. It was the last thing on my mind, frankly. I told the guy that I was sorry that I had not been more available to him and I would understand if he wanted to go back to Casa Grande without coming all the way up to Glendale, but he kind of insisted. I'd already had a pretty full day and was just looking forward to relaxing. Brad and Max took off and left me to prepare the truck for a visitor. Sweep it out and park it in the light as it was already pretty dark out.
I'd actually spoken with the guy several times and he knew my situation with being in the hospital and was accommodating to say the least. I no sooner sat down, that the door bell rang and it was once again, show time! Bob was a pretty good guy, a retired Marine with a young wife and new family. Bob was about 50 and had a 2 year old in arm, with the wife and 2 more kids in their van. We went for a ride and Bob liked the truck and tried his best to lower the price, imagine that. I was too tired to negotiate and told him, no offense, but take it or leave it. To my surprise, he said, I'll take it! Humph, should have tried that 20 years ago... He gave me a $500 deposit and I told him I'd still need it until at least Wednesday and by then I'd give it to him finished or not. We shook hands.
Sunday was repeat day of Saturday, except no surgery. What I neglected to tell you was that I was required to get nursing home care to infuse 2 pretty powerful antibiotics through my new PICC line, so everything needed to be scheduled around that 2 hour visit. When the nurse finally left, with me still attached to the pump machine, I tried to remember the ritual of how to disconnect myself. On top of that, the nurse was a Filipino and I had an awful time understanding her.
Back to the move... I neglected to tell you that the air conditioning at the Glendale location had fizzled out while I was in the hospital and we were operating on one window air conditioner for the entire house with many drapes and towels try to block off the living area. Brad showed up alone, which was probably better for work effectiveness and he worked his tail off while I did my usual complaining about how I can't do more. Brad was GREAT!
Miraculously, my lost movers called and arranged to come the following day. My movers were not great, but cheap and with as many moves as I've made in the last few years, cheap was good. He told me that he couldn't call me back because his phone broke. I didn't question it, I just appreciated that he was coming. Two guys and a trailer moved about 90% of my stuff and it was about 111 outside. I was beginning to feel a little faint, so took refuge in my new bedroom without water. I was too sick to even drink. The movers took my only two bottles of water, how could I say no? They headed out and I just laid there in my new bedroom, rehashing the day. Something happened that had me scared to death and I couldn't even get myself to think about it. When I awakened that morning, I didn't have to urinate and in spite of drinking about 2 full bottles of waters during the day, still no urine production. From experience I know that that meant kidney failure. I knew if I told Dr. Harvey, he'd put me back in the hospital which is exactly what happened... To be continued..........again!
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