Ticking Things Off the List

Wednesday I got up at ye gadz o’clock and hauled it across town to the new VA clinic to be seen about the muscle I pulled in my calf Saturday. I knew exactly what I’d done, but nobody would take my word for it. I had to blow an hour and a half so that my PCP at the VA could say, “Yep. That’s what you’ve done, alright.” She prescribed an Ace wrap. The VA pharmacy is mailing it to me. From Dallas. Thursday (the 5th), I got a letter from the VA telling me I had an appointment Wednesday (the 4th).

Kinda the story of my week. I’ve been cripping my little hamster legs off.

There is one street I go up and down at least twice a day, and one intersection on that street is key to me getting easily and quickly to The Garrison and the VA clinic. Guess which intersection the city decided to tear up? They had the area coned off yesterday. Today they had the two middle northbound lanes blocked off and a Bobcat with a jackhammer attachment was busily jackhammering a big hole in the pavement. (*&^%$#@!)

We signed the paperwork today, this past Thursday I ran to the bank to get them to cut a check for our deposit to hold the apartment we want at Carillon. Now we’re awaiting medical clearance for mom that she can be “independent” with my help (I think she can, I think she can. . . ). The guy at Carillon who does the assessment to see if you have all your marbles has already done mine (this afternoon)(I passed) (whew!). He will be going over to the Garrison to count mom’s marbles Monday. We need medical records to “prove” we don’t have any of the pre-existing medical conditions that would disqualify us for this particular deal, which neither of us do. That’s on the TO DO list for me to work in Monday around my appointment with the oncologist. One more hurdle to go. Wednesday, I got a letter from the VA informing me that the CT scan I should have had before I see the oncologist is scheduled for the 17th.

I met with the estate sale lady Thursday at mom’s house for a walk through. She seemed pretty sanguine that her crew could take on mom’s accumulation (every cupboard, every closet, every drawer . . . She lived in that house since 1962) Mom loved to entertain. She liked having parties, bridge club afternoons, luncheons, gatherings, celebrations, and she has all the accouterments — card tables and chairs, table cloths, napkins, serving pans, flatware and dishes. And tchotchkes — mom is the tsarina of tchotchkes. She and daddy traveled all over the world — and souvenirs were bought. (Her extensive collection of souvenir spoons is legendary.) The estate sale lady (brave soul? glutton for punishment?) met me at my house today. She is going to take care of my accumulation at the same time. I’ve downsized twice already. This time is going to sting a bit. But, such is life.

On my second trip to Carillon today, GP the Carillon guy took me back up to the apartment we hope will be ours. He had his laser measuring gizmo and very kindly and patiently measured wall segments for me.

I’m trying to work out what furniture I can keep, and where it will fit. Like I say, this downsizing is going to sting.

Mom has slowly but surely been making progress. She has another two to three weeks to go in rehab, which works out fine. They took the carpet out of the apartment at Carillon after the previous tenant vacated it. They’ve got to replace it with something, and I opted for vinyl plank flooring. There are also some other little odd jobs that need doing. The lady who showed me samples estimated two to three weeks to get it ready. The timing works out just fine.

I meet with Rusty the realtor this coming Tuesday to sign the paperwork to list the house. He asked me how old the roof was. Mom wasn’t sure. I got into the famous filing cabinet and discovered that she had not only had the insurance claim paperwork, she had the roofing contractor paperwork. Filed under “R” for “roof.” (duh!)

We found the polka dotted house coat and the blue gown! They had gotten sucked into the laundry system at The Garrison almost two weeks ago (the day after she got there). We had not seen hide nor hair of them since. I was picking up mom’s dirty clothes this afternoon to take home to wash and discovered that the pink track suit was also missing. (Her therapist suggested getting her some track suits as they are easy to get off and on, and more comfortable for therapy. ) I had gotten her two, and she loves them. She was wearing one, and I was going to wash the other (pink) one, and couldn’t find it. The nurse’s aid went on the hunt for it and we finally tracked it down (clean!) in the laundry. The laundry lady recognized the name and produced the errant house coat and gown. Mom was so relieved. She worried and worried about that house coat.

This weekend they are supposed to move mom out of the quarantine section and over to the other side where she can have visitors. She will love that. We’ve got my dad’s niece and her family coming in this Tuesday from Richardson, TX. We need to get everything we intend to keep out of the house before the 16th when the estate people come. What she and I want out of it will end up in my bedroom for the duration. There’s some pictures mom wants. There are also some personal documents I need to secure. I’m meeting my bro at mom’s house Sunday afternoon so he can get what he wants from the house. The yard man is supposed to come then, too, and I’ll be able to let him into the back yard to mow . Busy. Busy.

Author: WOL

My burrow, "La Maison du Hibou Sous Terre" is located on the flatlands of West Texas where I live with my computer, my books, and a lot of yarn waiting to become something.

One thought on “Ticking Things Off the List”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: