Petunia rambles on and on….

As of today, it’s officially Spring.  I’ve seen buds on trees, forsythia starting to bloom, the boys want to plant more crocus bulbs NOW because they love the flowers that are all over one corner of our front yard.  Their attention span got them that far, and that far only.  And I kept saying we’d go out again and plant more, and it never got done. 

I just noticed the buds on the trees 2 days ago, and yesterday I brought my camera with me when I went out of the house in the morning.  Hauled my good intentions into the office, not wanted to leave the camera in the car all day, and hauled them out again at the end of the day, through the pouring rain.  No pictures were taken of sodden greenery, whitery or pinkery on the way home.   Today, there’s a bright blue sky, but its windy.  No matter, forgot the damn camera this morning, and forgot to mail the mortgage payment.  I’m not real swift in the morning.  I don’t even have a pulse until about 9:30am.

If you read yesterday’s post, you are aware of the love affair between 2 small boys and the new Lightening McQueen CARS plates that I got for them.  I am told that they both slept with their dinner plates last night.

Pop is “planning the attack” for Saturday, which is moving day for all the junk that will travel from one storage unit to another.  He’s the General marshalling his troops.  It’s an all-volunteer army, that works for food.  Or it doesn’t work and then goes hungry. Their choice.  Two sons coming down, and oldest is bringing HIS two sons; also expect my nephew.  Pop has been over to the current storage place for most of the last 2 days, doing what he can to sort and ready things for when the younger fellows get there.  I expect that he’s probably gonna trash stuff that I’m later gonna have a fit over, and choose to keep shit that should have been thrown out years ago.  Ah, we do have these “differences of opinion.”  I’ll have to get over there early in the morning to see if there’s important stuff that needs rescueing and throw out some stuff he’s got in the “to be moved” pile!    The new unit is smaller, so ugly decisions will have to be made, whether we want to or not.   Pop is an amazing “packer” and can get more stuff in less space than anyone else I know, but he wants/needs to leave a center aisle free, so that we can get at some of this stuff as needed.  While much of it is in there for the duration, until the need for the entire locker ceases, some of it does go in and out.  Because we have the space, we’ve been storing out of season clothing over there, holiday decorations, large folding banquet tables, things that we use and can send back!  I don’t want him jamming my summer clothes in a back corner where they’re not accessible.  All in all, it’s going to be a long, hard day.   Please, no rain.

I bought a ham to cook for Easter dinner on Sunday.  I’m not sure if I’ll even be up to it.  Or who will be there.  Briley, are you staying for ham?  Head count please.  Check in with the cook. 

Not that I’m dazed and confused or anything, but when I decided to name this post simply with today’s date, I had to look down in the corner of screen to be sure.

Knitting

Still playing with the socks, Peppermint Mocha. Making progress.

I’m glad I’ve got small, skinny feet. I like a snug-fitting sock so I tossed in some cable-y ribs after I got past the toe increases. The fiddly little cables are pulling it in a bit, and the sock fits snug, but I don’t think I’ll continue them around the whole sock as I go up the ankle. I’m thinking now that I’ll just leave it at the 4 cable rows per sock on the front. I have, however, changed my mind before. Just ask Pop. And I may do it again.

One more thing gone awry

A week or so ago, I booked a week’s stay up in the Poconos for Pop and I in the fall. The idea of a “get-away” that is still rather nearby appeals to both of us. It’s about 185 miles north and takes about 3 and a half hours to drive up. I chose mid-October, fall foliage time, but it still should be good golf weather for Pop. Well, yesterday I got the confirmation paperwork in the mail, and where I had written down and planned on Oct 15-22, the paperwork came back as NOVEMBER 15-22. No, that’s not what I asked for! While November would be fine if all I wanted to do was sit by a window with a scenic view, a fireplace nearby and my knitting or my spinning wheel, Pop wants golf, and there’s too great a chance that it’ll be too cold. And I feared that earlier weeks would already be booked. But I got on the horn anyway, and a lovely reservation clerk was able to cancel the November booking AND find a condo available for a week at the same place in Sept. While I would have preferred October, and Pop was liking the idea of getting a trip away as a birthday gift, I’m very glad we could get into the same area in the fall. We’ll be too early for the “Fall Foliage” stuff, but we’ve both seen it before, almost every year of our lives. This will work! (If I get a severe hankering for red and orange leaves, we could always go up for a long weekend a month or so later.

If it’s out there, with a price tag, I buy it

On the way home from work yesterday, I stopped at the grocery store before bailing the boys out of jail picking up the twins from Day Care, just to grab a few things. Apparently someone in our household sucked up all the pancake syrup, right down to a sticky film inside the bottle AND failed to replace it or advise anyone else to buy more. Noticed this AFTER my breakfast was cooked, alright, microwaved, but still….. I can’t go into a grocery store for pancake syrup and buy pancake syrup. JUST pancake syrup. ONLY pancake syrup. This is because I do not have a penis.** I always see other things we need, and end up barely able to push the laden grocery cart that always has one bad wheel. In the store, I saw a display of kiddie dishware stuff decorated in “current themes.” They had Dora the Explorer and Spiderman. And they also had ones with Lightening McQueen, who is apparently the twins’ favorite actor. (NOTE: Wee grandfellows are CARS fans, watch the movie over and over, push 2 complete sets of small “CARS” cars about the house, fight over same.) At home, it’s all about Lightening and Mater. And Miss Sally. And Guido and Luigi. And my favorite, Filmore. (Can you tell that I’m a bit familiar with this movie? Does it show?) So I stand there like a fool, debating about buying more CARS paraphernalia and bringing it into a house already full of toys and already decorated in CARS. And, of course, I do. Because my other name is Sap Grandma. I pick out a set of Melmac plates, in the shape of a US Highway marker sign. Hehe. Cute. I sneak them home, wash them up and prepare a quick dinner. Boil some fettucine, open a jar of Alfredo sauce, a can of mushrooms – hey, I’d been up and going since 6 am, worked all day, spent an hour in the grocery store, put all those goodies away with the HELP of a pair of 2-year-olds underfoot!! Cut me a break here. I’m old.

The boys help with setting the table. This makes them feel so proud and helpful, and keeps them busy while I get the last minute chores done. I gave them forks to carry to the table, then napkins, then their plastic cups. THEN I gave them each their new Lightening McQueen plates to carry. Alex was very excited. Nick practically swooned. They both quickly climbed up into their booster seats, placed their plates on the table and admired the “scenery.” As their mommy started filling plates, I told Alex he’d need to clean off Lightening’s face – and he was fine with that.

Then Mommy grabbed Nick’s plate, to dole out his portion. Nick is something of a neat-freak, noted by all. Mommy has noted it any number of times. He has a FIT – cries, carries on, hollaring for the plate until he gets it back in his arms.

Nick is clutching his plate to his chest. Won’t put it down in fear that someone will “soil” it with, UGH, food. I mean, look at the slob next to him who clearly doesn’t give a damn about the fact that Lightening McQueen’s face has NOODLES on it. NOODLES! What an insult. Mommy continues trying to coax Nick into relinquishing his plate, because she’d probably like to dish out a portion for herself, too, before it’s all ice-cold. Nick’s not budging with the idea, and I won’t bore you with the whole series of pictures of teary-eyed Nick, doing his part to keep the Earth clean. Finally, hungry Mom gives up, and gets another plate for him.

He’s got his old blue dish, but you can see that his eyes are not leaving the magnificence that is his new CARS plate. His clean CARS plate.

He would, however, allow a handful of Vanilla Wafers to be placed neatly on his new plate. They are neater, cleaner than the meal I had prepared, and so, were more acceptable to His Finicky-ship.

I wonder how long this plate will stay clean.

** When money is tight, I send Pop to the store; he buys just whats on the list, and then he leaves the store.

I had to have eye surgery (again) about 3 weeks ago, because I couldn’t see out of my eye and the doctor couldn’t see in.  Two weeks later, when he got a good look through the hole he punched, he didn’t like the swelling and inflammation that he saw there, seemingly a normal condition for my right eye.  I was told to stay on steroid anti-inflammatory drops, and he added a non-steroid anti-inflammatory.  Doctor gave me a small sample bottle of Nevanac and a prescription for more.    I’ve been on this med before, after both cataract surgeries, and had no problems.  Doctor did advise me that, while there was a generic alternative to the steroids he prescribed (Pred Forte), there was none for the Nevanac, and expect to pay the higher cost.   Damn.

So the wee sample bottle ran out, and yesterday after work, I took the prescription to the pharmacy that I always use, and waited for my meds.  Wandered around the damn store for almost 30 minutes, picked up this and that and some of those over there.    I always thought the term “Sticker Shock” was all about the price of new cars, referring to the sticker that is traditionally affixed to the rear passenger window.  But no, Sticker Shock now refers to the paper that is affixed to your prescription bag.  The one with the cost that is still left for you to pay after your pissy insurance pays it’s miniscule amount.  Beware, folks, if you have a heart condition, or worse still, an as-yet undiagnosed heart condition.  You ain’t gonna make it out of the store alive.  Mind you, my doctor had warned me that I would be getting Brand Name, and would be paying accordingly.  Still, I almost had to sit down on the floor in the pharmacy.  So I gulped, and took a deep breath and, rather shakily, swiped my debit card.  I like the part of the process where a screen shows up that says, “Are you OK with paying close to $42 million for a tiny bottle of eyedrops, and the few sundries that you picked up while waiting?” or something like that.  The only choices are Yes or No.  There should be another button for, “Hell, no.  I’m not OK by being ripped off by our Health Care system, my insurer, and the world at large, but it seems my other option is to very painfully lose the sight in my right eye.  Go ahead and debit this horrendous amount out of my bank account, and I’ll just eat beans until the Fourth of July, when I will eat one small hot dog with my beans.  Thank you for asking.”  That button wasn’t available, so I hit Yes and slicker than goose poop, the money was out of my checking account and into theirs.

But “the system” wasn’t done with me yet.  I drove home, and because I ran out of these drops over the weekend, getting them into my eye was the first priority.  Opened the pharmacy bag and took out the little box.  Geez, all that money and I only got 5ml, which isn’t very much, and less when you figure how much of eye drop solutions run out of your eye and down your cheek.  All these little boxes look alike – that is to say you can’t see anything on the little box because it’s completely covered by the prescription label they’ve glued on, obscuring anything the manufacturer has to say.  “Don’t take if you’re female.  Don’t take if  you’re over 50.  Don’t take unless you’re mentally stable.  Damn, I wonder what it says on the box.  Oddly, it says Zymar on the label.  What the hell is Zymar?, I ask myself.   Hey, wait a minute, didn’t the doctor say that there wasn’t a generic substitute for this stuff?   Whoa, WTF have I got here?

So I get on the Internet and find out that Zymar is an antibiotic, commonly used to treat Pink Eye.  How nice.  If you have Pink Eye.  I don’t.

I got on the phone and called the Pharmacy.  Obviously, they are horrified that such a thing happened.  (Translate that to mean, “Oh, shit, we’re gonna be sued again!)  I am told that when I come back to get the proper medication, they will show me on the paper prescription exactly how this mistake happened.  (Translate to “I am desperately trying to cover my ass with any flimsy excuse I can quickly come up with)  The pharmacist even said that I didn’t have to come back in again this evening.  I took that to mean he wanted to get out of there before an irate customer came storming in.   However, as they had my correct meds, and I clearly did not, I went right back down there.  The pharmacist on duty hurried over, with the original script in hand so he could show me why the error was made, like I give a shit. (???!!!)  My doctor’s RX pads have the names of their most commonly prescribed meds printed right on them.  He circles the one(s) he is prescribing. To the right of that, they also have the words “Solution” and “Ointment” written.  I’m thinking that these are the 2 most common “formats” of eye meds.  Nevanac was NOT printed on the paper.  While the word “NEVANAC”  was clearly hand-written in, in capital letters, by the doctor on the script, the pharmacy told me that, as “Solution” was circled, and it was adjacent to the drug name Nymar, they assumed that’s what the doctor wanted me to have.  “See,” he says, “they’re next to each other.”  “And so, you decided to ignore what the doctor WROTE on the paper?  Never thought to check with the patient or the doctor, just to be sure?”   In record time, for them, my proper medication was ready and I got the hell out of there.

But not before I looked the pharmacist straight in the face and said, “If this had to happen, I’m glad it happened to me.  I have the ability to notice that something was wrong here.  Many people taking eye meds don’t have the sight to do that.  And many people don’t read labels, or if they do, think, ‘Well, that’s what they want me to have.  They know what they’re doing.’  I question everything that doesn’t look right.  And I noticed this BEFORE I put it into my eye.”

The one and only bright spot here is that the correct medication was $30.99 cheaper, and I got a cash refund. 

Please, everybody, check your medications.  Every time you pick them up.  Mistakes are possible.  I have to admit that I’ve been getting my meds from this pharmacy for many, many years, and this is the first problem I’ve ever had there.  They are great, but they are also human.  I will continue to do business with them.  Do your part and CHECK.   In this case, taking an antibiotic wouldn’t have done harm, but it wouldn’t have provided the extra amount of anti-inflammatory that my doctor wanted me to have. 

In some cases, the wrong medication could be fatal.