1 hour ago
Doing My ABC's
It got very cold in Oklahoma last night. And wouldn't you know my heat would go out. The pupsters and I covered ourselves with mountains of blankets and chattered our way through the night.
I called the front office this morning, but there is only one maintenance man and he was working someplace else. So I donned my flannel granny gown (I couldn't get pajamas over my boot) and we huddled on the bed.
Finally he comes with a space heater and says they are demanding he be at a meeting someplace else in town. So he plugs it in and starts looking at the heater (which is supposed to be new) to see if he needs to go buy parts.
In the meantime, Abi has decided she will not come in. Now that's unusual with her. Usually it's Charlie who is sniffing out something and cannot hear over the primal instincts in his dog head.
I stood with my scooter at the patio door calling her, trying to lure her in with treats. (Which are actually Composure pills that look like treats that are supposed to calm her, but don't.)
Finally I call my next door neighbor Charlie, and he comes over and goes out to get the shivering Abi hiding at the back of the patio where I can't see her, who is obviously not happy that the maintenance man is in the house. And probably not happy that the place is cold as well. Join the club.
I thank him, and explain that I went out there at 10 p.m. last night on my scooter (yes, I was very careful easing over the cement step to the patio) and tried my best to get the garden hose off the spigot, to no avail. It was frozen.
I tell Charlie that I told management, but they said I'd have to put in a work order. He sighs and goes over to Volare, who is on a step ladder in front of the heater in the hall, and tells him what I've just told him about the spigot.
Volare, thank goodness, manages to fix the heater before he must go to this meeting that is so important, and for which he keeps getting calls on his cell phone to go to.
A man of little words, he gets off the step ladder and goes outside to find that he himself can't get the hose off the spigot. I'd just had Kay water my poor now dead-looking plants the day before.
He comes back in and heads to the door muttering "has to be taken care of now", and shaking his head at the futility of someone thinking that such a thing could be put off with this arctic cold front upon us.
So now the heat is blasting and I'm thawing out and the dogs are happily back up on the bed with me snuggling like bugs in a rug. (Is that really an old phrase that I picked up long ago? Have you heard someone say "snug as a bug in a rug?" Or did I grab that out of the air?)
Doctor's Visit: I saw the doctor on Monday and he is pleased with the incisions five days out, and says to come back next Monday.
He said he took out all of the hardware (do you think they use screwdrivers or drills? I don't think I want to know) and cleaned up where he could, because I have a lot of arthritis where this injury occurred.
You see, they opened up the old scar on the outside of my right ankle/leg, and put a scope into the other side. (The spot where they stuck the scope in has begun to itch by the way, and I try to rub it through the boot.)
He said I must be careful and try to take care of myself if I want to get where I can walk hopefully without the boot. Show due diligence?
(In other words, does he mean somehow turn my internal motor down to slow, when it's been turned to high from day one?)
Kay has already explained to me that after surgery he pulled her aside and told her this as well, and she replied that I'm not exactly one to listen. Hey, I live alone. Who else is there to do things?
I have begun to take off the boot (which I was told to sleep in as well as wear during the day) and put ice on it.
(Take a good look at my pretty patio flowers, for they are pretty no more. They are brown and hanging limp as a wet rag.)
I have begun the ABC exercises I've been told to do, same as after the first surgery. Which means you write your ABC's in the air with your foot.
I have never quite grasped if they mean trying to write my ABC's with my whole foot, or with my toes? What do you think, as my foot is of one piece?
Well, when my toes are fully warmed up, I will be at them again. Then applying ice. Which right now, after a night of fifty degrees and dropping in here, doesn't sound all that appealing.
Meanwhile I am looking out the window and it looks gray and bleak. Heaven help those who have to be out there today.
I'm staying cuddled up with the pupsters, and being thankful for the heat that is working and making this cozy little house/apartment cozy again.
Posted by Brenda Pruitt at 1:04 PM
Hi there! I'm Brenda. I live in a patio apartment with my two dogs. I write about living big in small spaces on a budget and enjoying the simple things in life.