Dr. Donald G. Cunningham of Scottsdale Needs to Retire!

In need of a primary care physician, I contacted my insurance company and asked for them to refer me one of their participating doctors, if only to prescribe Ambien, as at my age sleep is sometimes unattainable. I was given the good doctors contact information and I called to make an appointment which took place in early February this year. I arrived a little early as I knew that I'd have to fill out all of the paperwork and spent about 45 minutes doing so. I was weighed, measured and escorted into a private examination room where I waited another 30 minutes or so. Finally, and I was actually thinking about leaving, this guy enters and introduces himself and that was the only time we made physical contact. He shook my hand. He seated himself about 10 feet away and read through my application asking me to confirm the information. I told him about my heart and kidney situation and he asked if I needed any prescriptions refilled. I told him, just Ambien and he said okay, to wait here. I waited another 15 minutes and again was about to leave and ask WTF, when a man came in and escorted me to the blood letting room, where I was again asked to patiently wait They drew blood and I was asked to pee in a cup and as I was about to leave, I was taken by the arm to another desk where I was to schedule yet another appointment, which is a lot of care for a guy feeling great. I asked why I needed to make another appointment and was told, so that I could get the results of the blood work, like they could be bothered to call me, right? That's when I stopped arguing, realizing it was just to generate more revenue for the doctor. I was fully planning on canceling that appointment, but would only be asked to reschedule, so today was that appointment, whew!

I was speaking with an old friend and listening to a rather interesting story when I looked up at the clock and realized I was running late. Begging my exit, I quickly changed clothes and jumped into the car to reach the doctor's office about 5 minutes late. There was not another soul in the waiting room when I sat on their rather worn out chairs, purposely sitting towards the front of the chair to avoid sitting square on the stained part. I was texting with a friend when I was immediately called by the nurse or whoever she was and asked to climb on the scale. That's when she told me I was not allowed to use my phone in their office. I only laughed and continued. I was taken to my private room that was literally freezing by the way and the doctor entered with his head down and looking at what I assumed was my personal file. He looked up and without saying hello, blurted out that I was non-compliant! "Non-compliant, non-compliant, non-complaint"! I asked what he was talking about, naturally and he then screamed at me, yellow slip, yellow slip, yellow slip! As if that meant something to me. About 10 days after my first appointment, when I awakened, there was a voice mail from one of his employees giving me the names of a nephrologist, a cardiologist and a dermatologist. I'm completely satisfied with my current nephrologist and my cardilogist and the dermatologist that he referred me to was a 2 star doctor in the area of patient satisfaction, with many listed complaints! Why would I choose a dermotologist that was 76 years old, that was a proven loser? (I neglected to mention that I had a small cyst in my earlobe that's been there for 40 years or more).So this guy is literally screaming at me that if I'm not going to try to take care of myself and follow up with his doctors, then he's not going to treat me! I yell back that I have an appointment with my cardiologist for 3/14 and I'm in touch with my nephrologist (kidney specialist) on a regular basis. That's when he told me that my BUN was 36 and I'm dying from kidney failure and that since 1/1/15 my insurance company will not allow my current doctors. For some reason, all of my life I was under the impression that doctors are honest and will not lie to a patient, but this monkey changed my opinion on that. That's when he point toward the door and said to get out! I yelled after him that he was an idiot and left. Frankly, he didn't look like much of a fighter! Tomorrow my intention is to report to at least the insurance company. Why should anyone else suffer his wrath?

Medical Week...

Since it's a new year, my insurance will pay another thousand bucks for dental work, that I didn't think I needed until my tooth started hurting last week. I called my dentist to see when he had scheduled me for and to my good luck, it was the 27th of January, yesterday. The office was empty when I arrived but had to wait for about 20 minutes anyway, while the dentist finished his sandwich. I was escorted into the inner sanctum and offered a seat in the chair from hell. You know the one, the one that causes you pain as you lay there staring into a light that is really too bright, so they give you sunglasses. Finally the little dentist arrives smelling from peanut butter and jelly and tells me that he is going to clean my teeth, even though he just cleaned them 3 months ago. He tells me that my discomfort is from a possible crack in my tooth beneath a huge filling that he can replace with another filling and if that doesn't relieve the pain, then a root canal and a crown! I listen and allow him to clean my teeth again, while he chastises me for doing a poor job brushing. I explain that I just hired someone to do that for me and that I'll pass along the complaints... I prepare to leave and go to the check out desk and wait about 5 minutes for anyone to notice me standing there, when a cute little girl comes out of the backroom also smelling from peanut butter. She asks me if 2 o'clock is a good time for me and I tell her sure and she hands me a card that reads Tuesday at 2:00 sometime in April, WTF? I guess my tooth didn't rally hurt hat much.

Somehow I've made it for several years without a primary care physician or PCP. My kidney doctor got tired of my pharmacy calling to refill all of my meds each month and kind of insisted I make other arrangements. So I contacted my insurance company for the name of a reputable doctor within my plan. They chose one in the upscale part of town in North Scottsdale and today was my appointment. As I mentioned, I'd not had a PCP for several years and the last one was a pretty Japanese woman about 35 years old that I was more than satisfied with, but she decided to specialize in something else. I recall my first and only visit with her and she had asked me when was the last time I'd had my prostate checked. After thinking over her question, I replied, "I just had it checked this morning on my way here, but thanks for asking." she laughed and said, next visit for sure and promptly changed specialties... Today, with this in mind, I wore my new Costco underwear, you know, the good ones without any holes in preparation for my exam.

I arrived at my appointment right on time and to my surprise, there were very few people waiting and I checked in. The kid, a 20 something guy wearing scrubs took my driver's license and insurance card as I asked if you needed to be a driver to see this doctor. He said, no but people use other people's identification to get free appointments. I sat down, only to realize he handed me about 10 pages to fill out! I was pretty sure that no one ever read these things so I did manage to fill out the first page completely and fill out my name and date on all of the others. I no sooner turned it in at the desk and asked my driver's license and insurance card back, when they called me inside to be weighed and measured. Someone took my blood pressure and escorted me into a room where I waited for about 15 minutes when an older man entered after a double knock on the door. He introduced himself and asked me to have a seat on the examining table, I did. He took a position about 10 feet away from me and read me the information that I had filled in. He never got any closer to me than that. He asked me when I'd last had a colonoscopy and I told him. He asked me if I'd had a flu shot and I said, yes. He asked if I'd had a Pneumonia shot and I said, yes and he said, good, that it was good for 5 years. He asked me if I'd like a injection of B-12, that it would give me energy and I yawned and said, yes again. He then asked me if any of my prescriptions needed refilling and I told him what I needed. he left. I waited about 20 minutes alone when I finally left the room and told the first person I saw that I'd been abandoned in room 8 and they told me to go back there and wait. Again, I did. I was then escorted to a restroom and instructed to pee in a cup and prepare for blood work. Sitting outside the shit house door, I heard a wall yell my name and I got up to look for the wall that yelled, only to see another kid with a needle in his hand ask my name. As he stabbed me, he asked if I were enjoying retirement and I replied, "Not since Oprah went off the air" and a girl sitting behind him began laughing. He told me that I was free to go as I looked for a door that said exit, when another girl sitting at yet another desk said, not so fast, you have to make another appointment. I immediately saw $$$ signs, but for them, not me. I asked why I was to make another appointment and she said, to get the results of my blood tests. I wanted to say, just call me, but figured out that they won't make money from my insurance company if they just call me and I agreed. I'm probably call well in advance and just cancel my appointment, so as not to incur the $35 charge that is posted on every wall if you don't call 24 in advance of each appointment canceled. I wore the new underwear for nothing!

How I Spent my November this Year...

It all started with a stomach ache that wouldn't go away. It continued about 6 weeks. I bought every remedy known to mankind and still no relief from this horrible cramping after relieving myself (without relief). I thought perhaps I was lactose intolerable suddenly and bought pills for that. I even gave up Pepsi! I tried going to the Emergency Room at Scottsdale Memorial Hospital, but it was so crowded in there that there was no place to even sit. (It was the beginning of flu season). I went home. Suddenly, for no reason the pain went away! I thought I had outlived it!

The next thing I know, I'm trying to schedule a cataract surgery with an obstinate scheduler, when I got so frustrated that I told her where to stick her 10 years of experience and hung up. shortly after that, the pain in my stomach came back, alerting me to the fact that it was just nerves. I think it was a Thursday night around 3 AM when I finally got enough symptoms to make me think that appendicitis was my problem. I had fever, chills and pain over my appendix. Sold me on it! I drove myself to the hospital and checked into the ER. I told the lady I thought my appendix was the issue and she called a few people and brought me back to an examining area. I laid there for several hours when someone took me for a cat scan. A couple of more hours later they came and told me that there was nothing wrong with me, but my creatinine level was over 3 and it should be at about 1. I should see a kidney specialist. Knowing that I've got kidney issues, I went home and the next day tried calling my kidney specialist but never got a call back. I knew that the creatinine issue was serious. 

I called my son Brad and asked his advice, kind of a role reversal, but Brad is usually pretty sensible and I respect his opinions. He said he'd be over to drive me to the hospital. So, there I am back at the ER talking to the same lady who does not remember me from the night before. She once again asks me why I'm there and I tell her pain in my stomach and an elevated creatinine level. she tells me I'm only allowed one complaint, which do I want it to be? I choose stomach pain because I doubt she'll be able to spell creatinine and they begin to check me in again. While waiting in the assigned seat, my phone rings and it's my kidney specialist calling and telling me that I absolutely belong in the hospital with a creatinine level of now 3.2, as I could require dialysis at any moment, if it rises any more? He couldn't believe they discharged me at a level of 3! 

I'm admitted and assigned a room. I begin to deal with hospital mentality immediately with a nursing staff that think that they rule the world, but I'll get to that. I get along with most of them, but occasionally there is a personality that clashes with mine because of my smart mouth. Now I'm subjected to a battery of tests and different Nephrologists (kidney doctors). Each tells me the opposite of the last one and all the while I've got Dr. Harvey (my doctor) intervening. I listen to Dr. Harvey in spite of the fact that he's not on staff in the Scottsdale Hospital. I'm there for 8 days when they tell me that I've got a narrowed artery leading to my intestines and I need a stent put in it to relieve the stomach pain, but I can get that done as an outpatient. Huh? I'm in the hospital but they want to release me to have an outpatient procedure, when I'm just sitting right there! Now more confused than ever, my granddaughter picks me up, only for me to discover that I can't breathe to walk and talk at the same time! I'm literally gasping for air just walking to the elevator, about 20 yards away. Kylie, my granddaughter sits me in the lobby while she gets the car, while I feel like I just ran a marathon, really! Kylie lectures me on the ride home, about a mile, about my poor eating habits and offers to go food shopping for me. I just want my recliner and some peace and quiet while I figure out what's wrong!

I've just been discharged from a reputable hospital and I'm in worse shape than I've been in all week. Because I've been in a bed all week, I had no idea that I now have a new problem that is heart related, because I cannot breathe! Let me bring you up to date a bit. I've known for the past 5 years that a aortic valve replacement was in my future and I shared this with the medical staff at Scottsdale Memorial Hospital. They never once suggested my seeing a cardiologist. I don't have the medical background to determine that my stomach issues are likely a symptom of a bad aortic valve, one that reduces the amount of blood flow to necessary arteries while digesting food. This was however mentioned to me by my kidney doctor, Dr. Harvey. By the way, my creatinine level has dropped down to where it needs to be prior to discharge. I finally go to sleep about 10 PM, hoping to get my first good night's sleep in 8 days, but no. It was constantly interrupted with episodes where I would awaken gasping for air. At about 7:30 AM I called my cardiologist on his cell phone that luckily I had and beg him to admit me to Good Samaritan Hospital where he is on staff. He not only agrees but insists that I go immediately. I call Brad, my son and ask him to take me there and he comes right over. I shower and shave and put on fresh clothes knowing it may be a while before I have that opportunity again. We check in where they already have a bed ready for me, room 104.

My roommate is an 86 year old man that just had an aortic valve replacement done through an artery, which is precisely the surgery that I'm hoping for. It turns out that you have to qualify for that procedure, they don't just arbitrarily offer it to anyone. I'm not sure what the qualifications are but after about a week of trying to get it scheduled, I was informed that I did qualify, since I already had open heart surgery 10 years ago and that makes a second surgery of that type more difficult. they tell me that my procedure is scheduled for the following day at noon. If I tried to describe all of the difficulty I had getting to this point, you just wouldn't believe it. At some point it was discovered that I have a very uncommon disease called Erdheim-Chester Syndrome and there have only been about 350 cases reported ever. It has to do with fluid forming around the kidneys and deterioration of the long bones in my arms and legs. Mortality occurring within 3 years of diagnosis, but I seem to have had this for about 8 years so I'm currently okay. As I mentioned the entire procedure is done through an artery, with the exception of a single 3 inch incision made above the heart and through the ribs, while a camera goes in through the artery in the groin, ouch! All body hair is swiftly removed.

Brad showed up way before I was to go to surgery which was good because he kept my mind off of the pending procedure. At about noon they wheeled me down to the pre-surgery holding area where things seemed to be backed up a bit and we waited about 90 minutes until about 1:30 when they wheeled me into the operating room. A guy put a mask over my face and said breathe deeply. I got about one deep breath out when suddenly I awakened in what looked like a garage, but it turned out to be the recovery room and lots of people were assembled to care for me and all I wanted to know was why they put me in a garage? I guess I was a little stoned! They all assured me it wasn't a garage, but I didn't believe anyone. I just figured that this was all that Medicare would pay for. (It sure looked like a garage!) That night was a long one as I had slept most of the day and wasn't ready to sleep at 9 PM when the rest of the normal folk retired for the day, but the nurses kept me company.

My recovery was miraculous. Suddenly I realized I no longer had a breathing problem and blood was flowing at a normal rate through my new valve. It was the difference between day and night. I was asked to walk around the nurses station and literally ran around it, while the nursing staff all laughed. I was cured, just like that. The second day I was sent home and haven't had any down time since. Yesterday I even did Costco and you know how much walking that is. During the time that I've been suffering from this dilemma and I really couldn't tell when it started, but at some point I lost my appetite and about 25 lbs with it. If there isn't blood to carry the fat, it just doesn't go. I got my appetite back and about an inch in my waist with it. Next Monday I have an appointment with my cardiologist and I'm going to ask to be put on a cardiac rehab program just to get some tone back in the area my muscles used to be!

Can you imagine being near death one minute and back to normal a couple of hours later? That's precisely what happened! By the way, I hugged my cardiologist when I saw him and I never do that!

Feminine Itch...

I woke up pretty later Saturday morning, actually it wasn't morning at all. It was 2 PM. I was up until 6 AM finishing up the book "Goldfinch", very good by the way, but loooong, like a thousand pages, but I read it on my Kindle, so it's really hard to guess the actual pages. 

At night I keep my iPhone in my sock drawer charging, so I won't hear it vibrate when a call or message comes in at 4 AM. I reach into my sock drawer and grab my phone and start looking for what I missed during my sleep. Oh, here's a message from a woman on Match.com I give her a quick once over and nah, she's not for me, but let me read on. My initial problem with her is that she's short and plump, like 5' short and her profile says she's slender, but her pictures say otherwise. 

Almost like headline news, "I Live in Northbrook, IL. but I sold my house and I'm closing on 11/14 and moving to Scottsdale". Well, that's nice for her. She's Jewish and we'll like all of the same things because of our heritage and I should wait for her. In fact we should start talking my phone immediate! Now I'm flattered that she likes me and what a great find I must have been for her, from Chicago, Jewish descent, same heritage (we can say oy vay together) I don't think she's for me, really. I let about 8 hours pass by, now it's dinner time here and 2 hours later there. I dropped her a note saying, with all her talk about talking on the phone, no matter how many times I shook her email, no phone number fell out.

Immediately, 20 seconds later, my phone dings with a message that says "my number is......." and then blank. Fifteen seconds later, "It didn't look like it went through, here it is again" and this time it was allowed through. Match has a silly rule that will not permit personal info to be passed until the third email, go figure. Then a third one, for just in case. So now I've got this woman in Northbrook IL's phone number 3 times and I really wasn't going to call her. I'm already thinking pushy, right? I had just finished preparing a Costco Cheeseburger with Costco Swiss cheese on a Costco bun with ketchup, mayo and lettuce and it smells good and has my attention, hands down! The next email reads, "Why aren't you calling"?? I quickly reply that in case of a tie between a Swiss cheeseburger and a phone call, the call always comes in second!

I finally call the number and she says immediately, Are you talking on a cell phone using speaker? I said yes, but I always do and it's the best you can buy, I NEVER have trouble with it.Now my turn: "Are you using a cell and is it AT&T"? She says yes and I say, there's your problem. AT&T won't work in AZ. She say, yeah, I have the same trouble with my son. Then she volunteers that she has a land line and I should call it. I said I can't I'm in a reclining chair and I'd have to climb out and look for paper and pen. My cell number in on your cell phone, just pick up your land line and dial it.She says, "why should I get up"? I say, "Why not just call me sometime when you're closer to your land line? She caved..............finally...

I called this woman because she lives in my old stomping ground, if she had a cute personality, it may have been okay, in spite of her short stature. I'm over a foot taller than her.When I meet a woman that I don't like, I try to make short work of the relationship, by telling all of my worst stories. So naturally I started with my heart surgery in 2005 and how I dropped out of high school at age 16 and 17. I then told her of my career where I had never been employed by anyone else and for the past 40 year always owned my own businesses, I had a clothing boutique in Palatine in the early 70's, moved to AZ in 74 and after doing some stumbling around, trying to get something together, started a resale automobile business from scratch, then I financed some dealers and also sold cars on contract, with me holding the notes on the cars personally. Later a friend and I opened a bar and restaurant in Sedona for a few years in the 80's.Her comment to all of this was, "You should have gone back for your GED! I yelled, what for? I was the owner.I never applied for a job, I was always the boss!

When I told her that I was accidentally stabbed through the descending artery of my heart, after her initial shock, her next question was... Now I want to type this while squeezing my nose closed, so I will sound like her. Here's the question: ARE YOU REAL SICKLY?

Moving on in some attempt at normal dialogue. I asked how long had she been divorced and she replied 20 years but there was a second husband. Why did you divorce from him? Answer: My 13 and 15 year old sons told me to. By that time we had spoken for 2 hours and thankfully her phone battery died and she went away. Today, I sent her this brief note, so she wouldn't wonder what happened to me:

Sometimes it's just not right...

I'm afraid after 2 hours on the phone, I do not believe we are a match. Good luck on your move!

I thought that would be the end of it, right? Nope!

I m sorry u feel that way. I told u my phone was going dead and I was exhausted from packing. It is a huge job. Sorry I could not understand that I did not have the strength to go and get another phone. I actually thought we had quite a nice conversation until my phone went dead which I warned u sbout. I was gone all day getting packing materials and running errands. What made u come to your conclusion? I m curious
Roberta

-- Also I was watching the bears game when I got home. Then I redlizwd I never closed my March sight from last night so it probably showed I was on it sll dsy. I really do not have that kind of free time right now. Too bad about your feelings snd that u cannot be a little more understanding when I told u I was totally exhausted from packing. I did 39 boxes in 2 dsys

I needed to figure out a way to end it to her satisfaction. So I wrote this...

It has nothing to do with ANY of that. I feel for 2 people to be compatible they need to be close in IQ and that didn't seem the case. You are far more intelligent than I.
Mel

Farewell to Billie Bob and Other Assorted Pests...

I firmly believe that my reclining chair is growing into my ass! While watching the news this evening, the sun had just gone down about 15 minutes earlier. I had already turned on a lamp, but had not closed the blinds yet and suddenly there is a loud knock at the front door. I'm a firm believer that it is never in my best interest to answer such a knock, it's always someone that wants something that I have no interest in giving. Be it magazines or the home owner's association rep, or a landscaping service. I would have ignored it had I not thought that he had seen me on his approach to the front door. Reluctantly, I whip open the door and there, already walking away, is a guy/kid about 20 or 22, wearing a Sears white shirt and a Sears clip on tie, as shocked to see me as I am to see him. I may have been the first person to answer the door to an abrupt knock this evening. I was immediately sorry to make his acquaintance. He introduces himself and he's with Johnson and McKenzie and how am I doing this evening. I tell him I don't know who Johnson and McKenzie is and he starts talking about retirement. (OH SHIT, I really stepped in it this time). I stop his spiel by telling him he chose a difficult way of making a living, going door to door. He explains that he loves it. I interrupt him again and explain that I'm willing to let him go pursue his dream. He doesn't take my hint and continues to discuss my personal income that I am NOT willing to discuss with him, while my front door is open and my electric bill is doubling! I can just picture him listening at his sales meeting today and trying all the things the boss instructed them on. I interrupted him yet again and said I was going to close the door now and I did. I think he left...

I wonder if it's me that is attracting all the psycho ladies? I just ran the gamut with another one from the so called weaker sex. Her name was Billie Gun, which I did not believe to be her actual name. Who names a little baby girl Billie? She claims she chose the last name but did it legally. She also claimed to be in the oil business but didn't seem to know anything about it. When I tried to question her about it, she claimed it was handed down to her from an uncle that passed away. It was left to her and her 2 sisters that she doesn't have anything to do with. She lived in a questionable part of town and spoke to me on her land line, although she had a cell phone that she says she hates. It was with AT&T and only cost her $25 a month, so she doesn't text. I used to be with AT&T and for $25 a month they don't even let you use their name! Her land line was awful and I could barely understand anything she said, however most of the things she said we not worthy of hearing. So rather than repeatedly asking what she said, I'd just agree. She also claimed that she was in some home business but has not had time to set it up in AZ.yet. Just more white noise, I didn't ask what it was. We chatted for about 2 weeks and finally I'd decided to meet her for dinner, but she really didn't eat anything. Whatever type of food I'd mention, she didn't like. I finally talked her into shrimp with broccoli, but she didn't like Chinese food, but was willing to give it a try.

Several times she told me that she was trying not to spend money, thus the texting or a new land phone was out of the question. She was a vegan....yuck! She called me one night last weekend, I think it was Friday. We had plans to meet for the first time on Saturday night, but I was less than excited already. Her only picture was 6 or 7 years old, but she claimed she still looks the same. I know I don't! She calls me to tell me to watch HBO, that Bill Mayer is on with Jerry Seinfeld and it was hysterical. I told her that I don't get HBO, that I used to get all the premium stations and they didn't make me any happier, that I only have basic cable now and I'm fine with it. She kept saying that she "bundles" with Cox Communications. I finally inquired how much her bundle costs her and when she told me $180 a month, I almost fell out of me recliner. My mind went to her savings attempt and how she doesn't have text messages on her cell plan and a shitty land line that is all fuzzy. I didn't even mention how stupid I thought she was or anything, I swear, when out of nowhere, she begins screaming at me that I don't really want to take her out to dinner tomorrow night! That she lives all alone and does the best she can and all I do is pick on her... I tell her I think it's a good idea not to talk anymore tonight and I'll call her tomorrow to firm up our plans if I still want to go...

The more I thought about it, the less I wanted anything to do with her and told her so in a polite email the following day. First I asked her to explain to me what happened and why she exploded, unprovoked, but she never replied to that. Immediately she started calling repeatedly and I refused to answer. I listened to one of her messages and in she told me that she was a clairvoyant, it was a gift she was born with. That's when I put a smile on my face that stayed for about 10 minutes.. If she were a clairvoyant, why didn't she know I thought she was nuts? My quota for psychos has been met for this lifetime and I'm good for awhile!

Bipolar and Cherry Pie...

I forgot that some people are bipolar. Unknown to me in advance, I learned that my second wife was bipolar and life with her was literally impossible, but that is not the subject for tonight's discussion. I think I've already written about that.

I was washing a few accumulated dishes when the call of nature beckoned me. I finished what I was doing and headed to the restroom. I was standing in from of the commode using it in just the fashion that the builder intended, when I heard a "chirp"! With all of the medical issues I've gone through of late, I was just praying that THAT hasn't developed a squeak. About 20 seconds later (I think) I heard the "chirp" again and was relieved in more ways than one. It was the battery in the smoke alarm that required replacement, but which one? I stood under the one in the hall and looked up at it waiting for the chirp to present itself again. Eventually it did, but it was not coming from the one that I was standing beneath. Boy, did I feel stupid standing there looking up! The only other one that I know of is in the master bedroom, too high for me to reach. First I looked for my flashlight, because I knew my step stool was outside in the backyard. Next trip is to the yard to look for the stool, only to find it soaking wet from our rain. I shake it off as best I can and bring it into the house and set it up beneath the offending smoke alarm.

Next is to find my 9 volt battery supply. Do you know where yours are? About 10 years ago, I was shopping at Costco and bought a gross of every size battery they make and keep them in a drawer somewhere. I begin searching drawers. Finding my 9 volts in a relatively short period of time and take one of the 15 or so that are still left, only to discover that it too is dead. (They don't last forever) I try another 10 or so and finally find one that still has a little breath left in it, success! Foolishly I put the other dead ones back in the container, after all they're new and maybe they'll work in a less demanding atmosphere, like a garage door opener, who knows? I put the smoke alarm back up on the ceiling and job complete, but make a mental note to buy new 9 volts the next time I'm at Home Depot.

Things on the dating services have been kind of slow. I still get the usual stream of older women 66 to 75 flirting with me but they all seem to look alike, melting! Last week one day, I received an email from a 54 year old woman that that was somewhat attractive, I'd rate her a 7. Blond hair, blue eyes, but short and her email didn't make sense. None of her emails made sense. It was as if she was writing only 1/2 of her thought and the rest stayed in her head. I replied, blaming the confusion on typos. At some point, I asked her for her cell number because certainly she spoke in full thoughts. Her spelling and grammar were good and it wasn't like she wasn't bright. At some point I called her and she was unusual to say the least. She told me a lot of very personal things in our first conversation and I pretty much decided not to contact her again. She said things like, she's looking for a man to lead, so she could follow and she doesn't like to talk but is a good listener. (I'm thinking I could have these kind of conversations by myself).

We were done! Last night I was sitting in my reclining chair devouring a piece of cherry pie, when the phone rang and it was she. What would you do? I finished the pie and called her back. I knew the pie was a win/win situation, but I wasn't sure the same of her. The very first thing that she shares with me is that she's bipolar and for 13 years, all she thought about was killing herself! Now she's on a different medication and is feeling better. Did you ever see a man try to begin running while in a reclining chair? That was me! Everything was beginning to come together for me. I was very nice and understanding, but at the same time, this is not something I want to buy into. She volunteered that the first time she made love, she was raped. Her former husband, that she was with for 10 years,  molested both of their sons and that the receptionist at her shrink's office doesn't like her. That's when she broke up with me! She interrupted me in the middle of a sentence and said that because of my age, she doesn't think it will work out. She took care of her poor ailing mother who suffered from Alzheimer's Disease and had to attend to her bathroom needs and she didn't want to have to do that with me! I said, me neither! That's when she told me that we could be friends with benefits though. I told her I'd have to give that some thought and said goodbye. Whew!

Life is a Series of Different Places to Sit...

This whole mess started around 8/7, when I had an appointment with my cardiologist. After sitting in his patients waiting area for over 90 minutes, they tell me my appointment was for 2:00 PM not 1:30. Although for the past 14 months the appointment card sat on my dresser and it read 1:30. No big deal right, only my time, but I'm 68 and get pissed off easily. The cardiologist, who I'm not too impressed with, makes no apologies and declares that I need heart surgery! I had an echocardiagram 5 months ago, in March and no one bothered telling me until 8/7, but now it's urgent. This is an example of a doctor being over booked and not having time to do any real help. They want to replace my aortic valve. All things considered, this terrifies me, so I figured my only option was to get mad and didn't mind who knew it. After my echo, I was told to see another person in the practice, who turned out to be very charming, but a nurse practitioner who only suggested  an angiogram, so I told her I'd discuss it with my doctor in August. He never mentioned that, but wants me to do a stress test on the treadmill.

Fast forward to last Monday and I'm walking through Costco getting my monthly supplies and out of nowhere, my foot starts hurting. I favor it a little but go on shopping. By the time you get to this age, you're used to unexpected pain. By Wednesday night, my foot looks like a balloon with toes and is red just before the youngest toe. I decide that I'll never be able to walk a treadmill with this swollen foot, so I search the medicare book for a Podiatrist. After talking to several receptionists and answering services that will not accept my part B insurance, I reach Dr. Mohamed who does accept United Health Care, Whew! Plus after hearing my sad story, Barbara, the receptionist, was willing to give me an appointment for 2 hours later in the afternoon of the same day, Thursday. Plus they were almost walking distance from my house! I arrive at the office right on time and am offered a booklet to fill out, oh God! Now why in the world do you need references to see a doctor? Not to mention that I'm there for a sore foot and why in the world do need to know what caused my parents demise? (I think it was from arguing so much).

After waiting for a half hour or forty five minutes, she calls "Mel". The pain in my foot was almost gone from sitting right under the air conditioning vent, it was about frozen. I still limp in, for effect. By the way, the waiting room was way classy for 1990, full of mirrors, chrome and glass top tables. I'm escorted to new place to sit by a really cute 18 year old blond girl, where I wait alone for about 20 minutes listening to laughing and giggling outside my door. I check my Facebook page and a few other places I like to surf and finally the door opens and a little guy, a few years younger than me comes in, along with his entourage of girls. A visiting female doctor about 25 and two other assistants. Turns out the little doctor is a comedian, let the fun begin. I volunteered that I'd had this same thing happen about 20 years prior and the podiatrist then told me it was a twisted tendon, gave me a cortisone shot and sold me orthodics. He laughed and explained that there no such thing as a twisted tendon. Everyone laughed but me! Dr. Mohamed gave me a cortisone shot and the pain started going away almost immediately, but wanted me to get an ex-ray and have blood drawn to rule out gout or a fracture, at two separate places on Friday. I told them that when my foot started hurting on Monday at Costco, I called a tow truck, but they wouldn't come, finally getting a laugh of my own! I left, walking somewhat normally.

Friday, I finally found Smiles, the imaging place and entered and was asked to sit with the receptionist to fill out pertinent information. I told her that I'd never been to their place before, but somehow she had my info in her system. She looked at me and said, Fisher, Mel? She then read off my social and address and told me that I'd been a patient in 1999. I asked what had been wrong with me and she said a lower lumbar ex-ray. I told her it was better now and thanks. I was then asked to sit in the general waiting and did what I was told. It was nice, but as soon as I got close, I noticed that there were about 5 people sitting there and 3 were asleep! I burst out laughing, is this the waiting room or the sleeping room? My laugh awoke an old man 3 chairs down. He looked and went back to sleep.

Next, a twenty something lady comes out and yells MEL! I limp her way and she takes me back to the inner waiting room where I'm asked to have a seat, (big surprise). Three chairs over is a woman wearing a terrycloth robe, also elderly and I look up at the TV and I Love Lucy is playing. Naturally, I thought I had somehow gone back in time! I asked the woman if that were Lucille Ball or my imagination? The woman brought her index finger up to her mouth and said, shhhhh....... Pretty soon my twenty something came back and said to follow her and of course I did. She walked me into the ex-ray room and asked to sit on the table. Again I complied. That's when she put on her rubber gloves. I asked her if she were old enough to remember NOT wearing rubber gloves for everything. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, no, gross...

From there I went to get blood drawn and you know what happened there. I was asked to sit in a few more places, when finally I left and got into my car to sit on the way home... Monday is my podiatrist appointment and then Tuesday is the treadmill and a bunch more places to sit!