They’re rioting in Africa

Friday. Sun behind the clouds, coolish. Supposed to stay that way.

We here in Central Maine stand, battered, snow shovels in hand, beneath a Winter Storm Watch. Heavy snow with sleet predicted from this evening through tomorrow evening. The danger now, aside slick roads and travel surfaces, is ice coated limbs and wires coming down.

Today may be the day the heart monitor goes back in its box and goes home to Boston. It has been progressively losing its mind, but this morning, it wants to be charged. This despite having been charged all night. I moved it into my office and plugged it into another working plug, and still it cries out for life-giving electricity.

I am so done with this device.

I tried to call the cardiologist’s office, and got the It’s Too Early message, which was bemusing, because I’d slept long and hard, and got up late. And yet? It still lacks a few minutes til 8 am.

Well.

I s’pose I ought to get a kettle on for tea and go find some pants.

How’s your Friday starting out?

Following up.

It’s now very sunny in my office. I chose to put on one of Steve’s nice heavy Carhartt flannel shirts, which may prove to be overkill, but is comfy, anyway.

Breakfast was tomato and swiss cheese sandwich. Second cup of tea by my side. Possibly, I will call in lunch. If I order from Asian Cafe, I’ll have enough leftovers to last the weekend.

I did speak with the cardiologist’s office, and, as I was explaining the problem, the heart monitor decided that it was charged. I did some guided punching of buttons, and the device does seem to be working, for very flexible values of “working,” so I can’t get rid of it quite yet, more’s the pity.

The cardiologist’s receptionist wanted to let me know that they were *there* for me until May 28. I asked her what was going to happen after that, and she said, “Oh! You haven’t heard? The hospital –” No, I said, I had heard that. What I wanted to know was what was going to happen after May 28 when I had no cardiologist. “Oh! Call your PCP.” My PCP, says I, is also attached to the hospital. He’s going to be vanishing, too. “Yes. But he will be able to refer you to other doctors. The hospital is working on a plan, but it’s not solid yet.”

By reports, the hospital knew it was going to have to close two years. And yet! They announce a month ago that they’re closing in June, and it has no plan for its patients, for whom they apparently accept no responsibility. Shame on you, Inland/Northern Light. As for referring to “other doctors,” I believe I mentioned here that the Other Hospital is laying off doctors and staff because they, too, are bleeding $$s.

In view of the upcoming weather, I’m going to call the vet and see if I can get another scant jar of prednisone for Trooper. I’ve taken to mixing it in the gravy food, because he hates the syringe and he’s too strong for me to hold when he’s determined. The old system was that Steve would hold the cat and I would administer the drug, but that’s no longer playable.

So, aside from one’s duty the cats, and going out for meds and more of the cat gravy, my plan is to do ASL homework and write.

That’s it. Yes, it’s a boring plan, but it’s MY plan.

Today’s title brought to you by The Kingston Trio, “The Merry Minuet“