Overall it was a LOT of fun, and satisfying, but it had some really frustrating parts, too.
I woke up at 03:00– I have been trying to take advantage of a morning schedule as my sleep patterns were messed up for weeks a few weeks ago.
At around 06:00 I did some grocery shopping, and drained our EBT funds to about $3. I had to leave groceries there on the living room floor because I just did not have time to put them away. Got home around 07:30.
I called my father to ask for some money. I really, really hate doing that, but my account was in the red, and after bailing Cimmy out, too. I was just going to wait and sit on it, but a regular expenditure came through, so I got socked with another NSF fee for $50 in total. I said I would try to get one of them reversed. I asked my father what his time schedule was for the day, because I needed to take him out for some errands. I agreed to go pick him up after I had taken the kids for time at the gym. He said he needed to be back by 12:30 or 13:00 for his infusion.
I asked Cimmy to call the credit union for me. She gave me a hurt look. I said I was working as hard as I could and I just needed a little help.
I dropped Jak Jr. off to the gym's nursery at about 08:55. I went to make sure Princess was situated with what she wanted to do, and then I changed clothes to climb into the pool. I spent time treading, swimming, and waterwalking laps until about 10:15 and called Cimmy to figure out plans some more. She was okay with the idea that I would drop the boy off and take Princess with me on my errands, and I called my father again to ask him about that. He agreed. I went in and told her she had about 45 minutes. She was at the "Starcade" playing foosball with some other kids. I decided I'd had enough swimming and took my time shaving and taking care of my other morning hygenics. (I seem to be better doing them at the gym than at home. Go figure.)
I came back at about 10:50 and she was still playing, so I told her I'd take her brother home and come back to get her– but she needed to be ready to go when I got back. (I'd discussed this with Cimmy as well.) So I got him. The attendants handed me a tissue– apparently he said he needed one but was just sniffing it. I'm not sure he understands what they are for yet.
He was quite agreeable to holding my hand through the parking lot and getting strapped into his carseat with little to no trouble. After getting him home at about 11:00, I rushed back to the gym and found Princess wandering the hall. Evidently she thought I would be back much sooner.
I pulled up to my folks' house, right in front of the door, at about 11:30. My father has to use a walker right now, so I got as close as I reasonably could. I apologized for being so late I was a little short on trunk space but folded up the walker and stored it away. My daughter was not quite aware of how pressed for time we were, so Dad had to remind her.
Fortunately, Dad said, he had called the service that helps him with his infusion and they said the guy was running a bit late– whew! So we had until about 15:00.
We went to Costco first. He needed to pick up candy bars to pass out for Father's Day at church. Yep, instead of potted flowers like the moms, we tend to get candy bars. (I'd be happy with a cheap screwdriver, actually, or some other cheap gizmo or doodad. But that's a joke for another time.) He also got some beef jerky so he'd have some protein to eat at lunchtime. *sigh* I wish Mom would let us help with meals. She works 5-6 days a week at her job at Social Security and no matter how much Dad tells me she comes home and crashes, she continues to insist they are fine. Only child of a Marine, y'know?
I was worried about getting in and out. He suggested I park in a handicapped spot. "But I don't have a placard!" I said. Oops. I guess he was thinking he was going to bring his. We managed to find a reasonably close spot and I got a motorized cart out to the car. It was so nice that an employee came to fetch it after we were done– I did not have that luxury later. Dad figured we had gotten in and out faster than we had expected, but my daughter had been a marvelous help, fetching items and getting it all put on the conveyor belt at the checkstand.
We went to Dad's pharmacy next. He likes ShopKo because the service is very good. Wish I could say that about the RiteAid I go to, or even the pharmacy downtown next to the hospital. I went inside to the service desk to make sure it was okay to take a motorized cart out to the parking lot. Decided to move the car into a shady spot to be closer to the door after he was situated and Princess followed him in. When I got back inside, I overheard the pharmacist explaining something I hear all the time– too soon for the insurance to cover something, in this case, just the injectable B12. He got the other prescription, though.
Dad noticed that Princess was lethargic, and she explained she was famished. There is a KFC/Taco Bell on the other side of the parking lot, so he suggested we go there for lunch. I said I would go bring the car to the door, and I did so. Dad was worried about leaving the motorized cart right there at the door, but I said I would walk back to take care of it, and it'd be good for me. I dropped them off and said what I wanted, and then trotted back to ShopKo to put away the cart. Hobbled a little bit on the way– might have been 1/4 mile or so there and back. I am still not fully healed from the surgery.
I got back and the food was ready the moment I got in the door. Dad had asked an employee to help take the tray to their table, but I had showed up right on time. They had Taco Bell stuff; I had KFC, because I really wanted coleslaw. The grease still makes me sleepy, though. We counted our good fortune on the extra time and went back to the house. Princess napped in the car but was active and running around again by the time we got inside. Not me, though. If I hadn't gotten up and walked around every so often, I think I would have stretched out on the couch and fallen asleep– not a good idea without my machine to keep the airways open. Dad took some time to show me some media my sister's husband had done for a chalk art exhibit they did again with his company in San Rafael a few days ago. I showed him the recent pictures I shared with you the other day.
Dad suggested that his infusion procedure might upset my daughter, and so I got her to agree to come back home to the apartment– but not before Mom called from work, and before I called Cimmy to let her know how well behaved our daughter had been. She agreed to make up an award certificate we called the "Tiny Tim Award"– because she had been as good as gold, and better. (I was willing to overlook her pounding on the piano when Dad and I were looking at pictures earlier.)
Got an e-mail from my mother-in-law. My father-in-law has been doing chemotherapy and radiation because they found cancer cells in his gallbladder after removing it. The side effects are catching up with him, it seems. Since he was experiencing nerve pain in his feet and hands, I joked that he got to empathize with the rest of us– my father and I, that is. She was making dinner for their local church missionaries and couldn't talk long. I asked what she was making, and she said it was roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and German chocolate cake for dessert. She jokingly suggested we might have time to make it (they are an hour and a half away, approximately) but I said I was totally knackered running Dad around all day.
I called my grandfather next, since I'd been trying for a few days. I really have to be on my toes and remember to thank them regularly; besides the usual gift card for gas, they'd given Princess some money after her baptism, which was finally spent on dress shoes, hose, and such. Never did get around to mentioning that, though. He was in an unusually chatty mood, mostly waxing nostalgic about the war, or rather, discussing that particular paradigm of the justification of the bomb and the conflict in the Pacific in general. The fuel for the Fat Man was produced right here at Hanford, so it will probably be centuries before that legacy finally fades from the collective consciousness, especially from arrogant hipsters.
Yes, thank you, Grandpa, for endless mail bombs from your Marine buddy and your other friends, about "God Bless America and Our Righteous Troops", "Obama is Evil," "Send Those Dirty Mexican Parasites Home," and whatever viral spew right-wing authoritarianism is spouting out its holes at the moment.
Anyways…I promised I'd make sure Cimmy stuck to her promise of a letter, and that Princess did something too. Grandma positively eats that stuff up; always has. Cimmy still believes quite strongly in letter-writing and this is good for Princess to practice penmanship skills, which many teachers fret on all the more in this Information Age. He had some kind words of praise for her. We also talked a little bit about Bloomsday– I said both he and my father had mentioned he'd taken 3rd place in his age group, and Dad had mentioned Grandma being bummed about not being able to run this year. They are in their eighties, so… y'know, it happens.
Then I persuaded Cimmy to help me relax and fall asleep. She wanted to read more of her D&D reference books to me, which I normally wouldn't mind, but… *sigh* okay, I'll say it, I wanted to be soothed like a mother's child. Probably didn't help that I woke up at 01:00 today and chewed her out for putting the groceries into the storage closet, as the frozen food melted and will be brick solid after going into the freezer. I apologized a little later but said I didn't want to be taken for granted.
And thus it is. I'd really like to go to the Scottish festival in Prosser today. Cimmy very wisely wants to hold on to things after our bailout. *pouts* I guess. If only it was free…
+1 if you actually read all that, +2 if you followed it all