Isn't it a bit early to be showing me that?

Those who know me have heard me say, many times, "No one ever gets hurt lying on their couch."  Most recently I said this when my dear mother in law took a tumble outside a week ago and broke her shoulder and jaw. "No one ever gets hurt lying on their couch."

Well, as of today, I'm going to add a new rule.

"Nothing weird happens to people who stay indoors."

During this time of Covid I've been home and indoors much more than is even normal for me.  And there's been a lack of weirdness.  Which has been okay.

Until today.

One thing I do almost every morning is get up and go for a twenty minute walk.  Ten minutes in one direction, ten back.  Pretty regimented, and most of the time I even take the same route.  The morning walk is about waking up all the muscles, joints, and bones so that they know it's time to start hurting again.  This morning, for reasons I will not know, I decided to 1) go a bit further than I normally do and 2) walk a different route.

Which is how I wound up at 6:45 CST, crossing a street via the driveway of a man who was getting in an early morning cigarette.

I wasn't paying attention, I'll admit it. I was actually responding to a good morning text from Hubby, who is spending this week with his mom, tending her after her aforementioned fall.  I stopped in the apron of the driveway, looked down at my phone, and started to send the text when I heard a deep voice say, "Good morning!"

Not going to lie. That startled me.  I don't often see people just standing in their driveway, leaning over the bed of their pick up, staring off into the distance.  Especially not at 6:45 AM.  I said good morning back and then crossed the road.

From behind me I heard him say, "Wait, before you run into the house, let me ask you something."

Not sure why I thought he was talking to me...at first I thought he was talking to someone who, you know, he lived with or knew.  But no. He was talking to me.  I stopped walking and saw him crossing the street.

"I have to show you something."  He said.

"What, me?"

"Yeah."  He started crossing the street.

Now, young girls, in fact, anyone, if a stranger walks toward you and says he/she wants to show you something, that would be a good time to RUN.

But, I'm in my 50's and fluffy. My feet, ankles, and knees do not take kindly to walking most of the time. Running is RIGHT OUT.  So, instead of trying to escape what clearly could have been a kidnapping situation, I decided to assume no one is interested in kidnapping a middle aged fat lady who isn't wearing makeup before 7AM.  I took a few steps toward him and met him in the middle of the street.

"It's a little awkward, but I'm this dating site."

Buckle up kids,  this is where it gets weird.

"My screen name is Juicylips 34," he tells me.

"Okay...."

Why he thinks I know anything about dating sites...or would be interested in his screen name (which, honestly, screws a tiny bit girlie for a guy who looks like he works road construction) is beyond me.

"Anyway, this woman lives on this block, I think. Have you ever seen her?  Do you know her?"

He shows me a picture, which I can barely see because 1) It's sunny and his screen is being washed out by the sun and 2) it's still the time of COVID and I'm not sure I'm not wearing a mask and I'd like to not get the Covid from this dude because he wants to show me a picture on his phone and 3) really?  I'm looking at a picture of a woman on a dating site because a stranger asked me to?

So I way, "No, I don't know her."  And I don't think I do, but I do see enough of the picture to see that her screen name is SUPERSEXYXXX.  So, she's got that going for her.

He tucks away his phone and says, "She lives around here, she definitely knows me.  I just wish I knew where she lives."

I backed away from Mr. Lovelorn.  This was officially out of my depth. Not my street, not my problem,  But, as I put some distance between us, I said, "Well, keep watching the sidewalk. Lots of people walk around here."

"Hey...they do. That's a good idea," says he.

So...you know...SUPERSEXYXXX, if you're around...just know Juicylips34 is looking for you...and also he's not a bad looking guy...plus he doesn't seem too shy about talking to a woman...literally any woman.

See...and now that I'm involved with this guy's love life, I'm fairly certain I can't walk that block ever again.

That's entirely too much for a Thursday morning. I think I have to go take a nap now. On my couch.  Because, as you know...no one ever gets hurt lying on their couch.

These are NOT the heroes I was looking for!

I have the utmost respect for those in the medical sector. Doctors, nurses, lab techs, orderlies, I have big respect for anyone who has to deal with the public on a medical level because people are terrible and injured/sick people are worse.  They are truly heroes. This blog is not a reflection of how I feel about the millions of men and women in the medical profession.

That said...this happened yesterday:

To understand why I broke down and laid a vulgarity laced rant on my poor husband after a simple blood draw, we have to go back a couple weeks to another blood draw (in the time of Covid.)  The clinic where I get about 95% of all medical stuff done has two labs: the upstairs lab which is used for cancer patients and, in my case, patients who have blood issues.  (I have a series iron problem, but that's another story.)  This is a very professional lab, I'm usually in and out before my appointment time and the lab techs are lovely.

Then there's the downstairs lab. This lab is used for general blood panels like cholesterol, A1-C tests, that sort of thing.  I've written about this lab before. The people who work in that lab are...disorganized, disinterested, and disconnected. They are, however, very good at hanging party decorations in their office.

So a couple weeks ago I went in to the upstairs lab for a routine check on my iron.  Weirdly...I had to wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.  What should have been a 5 minute in and out turned into more than half an hour in the waiting room, sitting alone, six feet from the check in desk.  

When the guy finally came out and called my name, he seemed annoyed to see me.  "Are YOU Sarah?"  He asked, as if someone else had been posing as me and he'd gotten in trouble for drawing an iron panel from the wrong person.  I answered and he said, "Where have you been?"

"Sitting in that chair, six feet from the receptionist."

"We've been looking everywhere for you!"  he said in a very accusatory tone.

"I don't know...I've been right here. I didn't move."

He frowned at me..."We had people looking all over for you!"

I'm not sure how a lab loses a 250 pound woman with questionable mobility...but apparently they lost me, and apparently it was my fault.

And this was the GOOD lab.  

Well, hey, it's the time of Covid.  Weird stuff happens.  So, okay.

When my results came back, I was informed that I now needed more iron infusions.  But first, they wanted to do another blood draw right before each of the two infusions.  Which brings us to yesterday...the first of the blood draws.  

When I set up the appointments, two blood draws, two infusions, I was told that my first draw would be at the downstairs lab and I had no specific time...I could just walk in. Two which I said..."ARE YOU SURE?"

"Yes," was the nurse's response.

"The downstairs lab?  For a draw for Dr. S?  Because I've never had blood drawn in the downstairs lab for that doctor."

Again, she confirmed what she told me.

Two weeks go by and it's Wednesday, the day before yesterday. I call the nurse back.  "ARE YOU SURE IT'S THE DOWNSTAIRS LAB ANY TIME TOMORROW?  Because it's not on my MyChart schedule.  And also, I've never done a blood draw at that lab for this doctor."

"I'm looking at the schedule right here and it's here. No worries. Just go in tomorrow."

"Okay."

Yesterday...I get a phone call.  This is a pre appointment screen to make sure I'm not coming in to spread COVID to everyone.  (Good God woman, this is a medical clinic...WE CAN'T HAVE SICK PEOPLE HERE!)  Do I have a fever?  Have I traveled?  Do I have shortness of breath?

I answer the questions. I do the online pre registration. This should be a fast in and out.  But just in case, I pack my Nintendo Switch Skippy got me for Mother's Day so I can play Animal Crossing, which is very calming for me.

Then I get to the clinic. And I'm met with the temperature taker who takes my temperature and puts a sticker on my chest that says:  "My NAME IS:  97.3"  Then she tells me to go register at the kiosk.  

"I already did online. Plus I confirmed everything by phone this morning."

"You still have to use the kiosk, she growls at me."  

The only kiosk (remember, this is the time of COVID...I'm in a mask...we're supposed to distance...all of it) that's open is in a corner...next to a station where another nurse is giving a patient some kind of IV treatment.  (I'm not making this up.)  So I wedge myself next to the patient  (I'm not even 6 inches away from her) and I attempt to use the kiosk, which has a mind of its own and clearly is out to make us all feel like morons.

The IV thing done, the nurse pushes the old lady out of our cubby corner and stands next to me to help me register.  She has trouble operating it.  After pushing "next' and "back" for about five minutes she tells me if I'd like to complain about this process, I can go to the front desk.

She's the one real hero in this little tableau.

So I'm finally checked in. I do not stop at the front desk to complain. I'm a blogger.  I don't need to take more time out of my life at a front desk.

And I get to the downstairs lab.

Now...let's talk about social distancing in a medical office.  I get that we need to stand 6 feet apart and all that.  But I've not seen, until yesterday, a medical office that put the X for where you stand on the X six feet away from the desk and shout your medical information through your mask and through the plexiglass.

Apparently, in the downstairs lab, HIPPAA rules mean nothing.

So I first I have to wait for a couple minutes for anyone to notice me. Since I'm so far from the desk, they can't see me, because everyone's back is turned...they are hanging some kind of decorations on the wall.  When someone finally notices me, she takes my name (and asks me to repeat my name and birthdate and doctor's name because she can't hear me through my mask and the plexiglass and the 6 feet of distancing.)

She tells me to take a seat.  Two minutes later she yells "ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?"

"Why?"

"BECAUSE THERE ARE NO ORDERS FOR YOU!"

It's at this point that my blood pressure starts to go up. Did I not call the office to MAKE SURE I was suppose to come to this fourth ring of hell for a blood test?

"I CALLED THE NURSE YESTERDAY AND CONFIRMED IT!"

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME, BIRTHDAY, AND DOCTOR'S NAME?"

Should it bother me that she can't find orders for me and has already forgotten my name?

No worries...five minutes later there are orders for me and I'm assigned a person to draw my blood and I'm in a chair for the blood draw.

Let's call my phlebotomist "Dee."  I call her that because her name had nine syllables, none of which I'd ever heard as part of one name in this country.  Dee wore a mask and a plastic shield.  She asked me my name and birthday (because she hadn't heard me shout it before?) which, I had to repeat because she couldn't hear/understand me.  

I'm annoyed, at this point, but hey, we are in the home stretch.  Or. So. I thought.

Dee is a tiny, tiny, tiny thin woman with hair that weighs more than she does.  Keeping the hair from knocking her over backwards seemed to be a problem for her.  Also, she seemed....new? Like she was talking herself through the steps of the process.

She put the tourniquet on me and slapped my arm, looking for a vein. I have thin veins, always have, but it's never been an issue.

Until yesterday.

"How do they get blood out of you?"  She asked.

"Um...in the normal way?"

She repositions the tourniquet and seems to find a vein and is about to poke me when she says, "Oh, wait."

She looks at the two vials she's supposed to fill and goes back to the rack of vials and gets different ones out.  SHE HAD THE WRONG VIALS!  

At this point another nurse sticks her head in the room, she's not wearing a mask. She asks if I'm Dr. H's patient.  Dee looks at me and says, "Are you Dr. H's patient?"

"No."

"But what's your name?"  Dee asks....she's looking at my chart right at that moment. "Is it, Sheila?  Serena?"

"SARAH!  My name is SARAH. My doctor's name is S....."

"So you're NOT Dr. H's patient?"

"NO!"

The other nurse leaves the room.  Leaving Dee to her devices.  Dee walks to steps toward me and we both hear a weird crack/popping sound.  "Did you hear that?"  Dee shrieks, rubbing her thigh.  "That was my thigh or my hip or something around this area."

She's seriously worried about her thigh...or whatever...and it takes her a moment to recover and get back to poking me.  And, of course, by this time she's lost the vein.  So more slapping.  

She finally gets the needle in...which hurts by the way, far more than many sticks I've had.  She fills the vials (God along knows if they're the right ones at this point) and she takes the needle out.  

"Wow, that was a perfect poke," she says.

Was it?  Really?

I'm finally done. Finally. I'm seriously upset by it all and I'm exhausted.  As I make my way out of the clinic I walk past the temperature taker lady who in the process of SHOUTING at an elderly man with a walker that he NEEDS TO USE THE KIOSK because they are all about NON CONTACT check in and he's telling her he did check in at home and doesn't want to use the kiosk. And I want to add that the kiosk is NOT NON CONTACT.

Instead, I escape out the door to my car. And all I want is a lime refresher at Starbucks. I want that because it mixes nicely with vodka and at this point in the story I NEED AN ADULT BEVERAGE.  

So I get in line at the drive thru and I order a Lime Refresher and I'm told, in a very cheerful snotty voice, "Those were discontinued a year ago."

It was too much.  Too much.  And thus...the vulgarity laced rant when I got home. It was a rant that ended with a two hour nap.

I go in for an infusion today.  Given how screwed up simple blood draw has been in the time of Covid...I can't wait to see what happens when I have something complex being done.

How a beer run reminded me of a wedding dress search.

Hello all!

I'm going to get right into it because...well...I am.

Yesterday Hubby and I went to Total Wine and More for the first time since this whole Covid thing popped up in our neighborhoo.  Fun fact...I realized yesterday we haven't driven on the interstate near our house since March. Now, that might not seem like a big deal...except for me...I was flooded with a weird new axiety. I may never have to ride a roller coaster again. I got enough thrills watching hubby navigate the interstate between Waukesha and Brookfield at 5 PM on a Friday.

You people have all either forgotten how the heck to drive...or you just all left your manners at home and decided to drive with you big old crabby pants on. 

Anywhooooo....

So we went to Total Wine and if you haven't been to a Total Wine, you should go because honestly....it's got a...um...what's the word...oh yeah...a total selection of wine and other cool adult

beverage type stuff.

We went to find (Hubby tells me) a special Australian beer he was going to use to toast his cousin's husband (hi Bob!) who lives in Australia and named this beer as his favorite.  It was called West End Draught and the can looked like this:

I should note that Total Wine and More...has more than wine. It has a TOTAL selection of beers and spirits. They are silly with beers and spirits.  And adult beveraging accessories you never knew you needed to get your drink on.  They have it all.

Anyway....

Right. So it's June. And June is the big wedding month, even in this time of Covid.  So it only surprised me a tiny bit when we got to Total Wine the biggest, brightest, front of the house display was...well...this:

Now, I do NOT know who donated that dress (which is a really lovely dress, by the way.  If I were a bride now I would TOTALLY want to buy it.) but it put me in mind of my dear friend (and maid of honor at my wedding) we'll call her Abby.  Abby got engaged, I believe, before I did, but married the year after. I traveled one weekend from the Detroit area where I was living to the Chicago area where she was living, in order to help her pick out a wedding dress. After all, I'd just gone through the process I knew everything!

What I didn't know what that a friend of mine in Michigan had set up a couple appointments at dress shops for me so they would actually talk to me and pull dresses for me. Sort of like Randy at Kleinfeld's.  

So we hit a couple dress shops and got the cold shoulder from the dress shop ladies!  Saddened, we decided to go to the mall and find the bridesmaid dresses, which Abby was determined were going to come from a normal store at normal store prices. (We were in our early twenties and the cost of bridesmaid dresses when you're that age is...a lot.)  We did NOT find the bridesmaid dresses that day.  (More on that later.) What we did find was a Laura Ashley store with a lovely summery display, just right for a June wedding. Much like the one at Total Wine. And, much like the one at Total Wine, there was a wedding type dress in the display...and it was THE ONE.

Now, how does one go about purchasing part of a window display?

Okay, this is going back 30 years, but if I recall correctly, we were young, thin, cute, and I believe there were tears involved.  After all, we'd been turned away by the bridal boutiques (because we didn't have an appointment, which I realized later, but that took away from the tragedy of our story) and the dress in the window, even though it wasn't part of their inventory, we JUST HAD TO HAVE IT.

I don't recall everything else. I do remember, Abby was allowed to try it on and it FIT and she looked like a Laura Ashely angel.

And isn't that veil lovely?  Let me tell you about the veil, because that's another story that Abby actually brought up when I posted a pic of the wedding dress in the liquor store.  See, once I got married I moved to the Milwaukee area, and Abby was originally from there. And we still needed a veil and bridesmaid dresses.  So we headed to the local mall in Milwaukee.  (Many of you know it as pretty much the only real mall left in the area that's NOT Mayfair.  If you're from here, you're already shouting the name of the mall at your computer.)  Anyway, we walked past a Wicks n Sticks Store and...

Wait, you don't know what Wicks n Sticks is?

Oh children, in the great days of the malls... when teen girls had tall hair and there was an Orange Julius at every corner...there was a Wick n Sticks. This was a store that literally stuck a wick in any shape and called it candle.

Two foot long wax tiger?  Candle.   Kewpie Dolls  (look them up) Candle.  Weird shaped couples entwined in a passionate kiss?  REALLY disturbing candle.

They also sold incense. Hence...sticks.

Anyway, Abby wanted to get a unity candle  (look it up) and that was the place to go for that.  And there, because it was getting again to be June and June is the time for weddings, there was a long veil surrounded by CANDLES.  

And Abby said...I MUST HAVE IT.

We were still young. Still thin  (Abby, by the way, is still gloriously beautiful and thin 3o years later) and still ready to play on the sympathies of some retail clerk. Oddly enough, Wicks n Sticks didn't give as much push back on selling the veil. It was sort of like, "Dude...really?"  To which we responded, "Dude, yeah."

And we had a veil.  

Oh, secret message to Abby: We thought there were no more Wicks n Sticks. in looking up the logo, I found at least one that's still operating...in Daytona Beach, FL.  ROAD TRIP!

Anyway, that's the story.  Oh, and those bridesmaid dresses? Yes, we found them at the mall, for a really nice price!  Here's a picture of me posing for the cameras in one now:

And, because I can't leave you with that dorky picture when I'm talking Abby's wedding, because it really was lovely (and because I can't find the picture of their wedding I REALLY want to post, the one where they're cutting their cake and she's holding this giant butcher knife pointed at him and she's wearing a grimace that is far more...murderey than marriage-y.) I have to leave you with this classy picture of their wedding party!

Happy June Everyone!

Oh, and whatever became of the beer?

Well, apparently "Total Wine and More" does not include random Australian brews.  But that's a quest for another day.