I’m about seven months removed from ACL reconstruction surgery on my left knee. Last week, I slipped a little bit while trying to mount my bicycle, and twisted the knee a little bit. I gave it several days to rest, and today I tried to resume my strengthening exercises. I’m quite sure that I’ve lost stability in the knee.
Fuck.
That truly sucks. Acl recovery is tedious , a do over would really suck donkey balls.
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I don’t know about Walmart, but that’s not the case in normal supermarkets. I’ve seen lots of people with loaded carts use the self-checkout, and nobody has a problem with it. Does Walmart have a policy about this?
Attention people who are in the business of selling cars: if you actually want to sell a car to me, I require a bit of information from you. I need a thorough description of the vehicle, a photo or 2 of the actual product you have (not a stock photograph of a random Mazda3 or Kia Soul, but the actual item you purport to be selling,) and a goddamned price. I’m not driving all over creation to visit your dealership and shoot the breeze and sit in the office until the sales manager pulls a number out of the Random Bag of Digits in the vodka drawer of his file cabinet. I’m not giving you my phone number, email address, and mother’s maiden name just so you can harass me for the next 47 years.
Here’s how this works: I have a firm budget for this purchase (a car for my college-aged son.) I have the whole internet at my disposal, and will use it to research my potential purchase. If you quote me a realistic price for one of the several cars we want, we will then make the trip to test drive, look under the hood, check for rust, bent frame, and so forth. We will negotiate, and if we reach a deal, I will pay for the car.
This is how commerce works in virtually every other sector, right? So why can’t it work in auto sales?
(I know there’s CarMax. Unfortunately, my budget is a bit below their apparent threshold, and I can’t raise my budget.)
This could be another thread (and has been, several times). But I’m amazed at how many car dealerships think it’s 1970.
I was shocked when a salesman in his 20s, when asked about the price of a car we were looking at, went over to his desk, took out two scraps of paper, wrote a number on one and said “Now, before I turn this over, know that this isn’t the price you’ll pay. This is just a starting point. Now, you write the price you think is fair on that piece of paper…”
I cut him off and said I was surprised someone younger than 60 was playing this game and that he needs to tell his old school managers that it doesn’t work “here in the future”.
I really lucked out on my last car purchase. The dealership has a “no negotiation” thing like Carmax. First visit the vehicle I wanted wasn’t at my price point, so I left.
A month later I received a call from the salesperson saying that “something recently came in and it hasn’t been priced yet…I think you’ll be interested.”
So I went. It was a vehicle on the periphery of my radar but hadn’t seriously considered. Looked it over, took a test drive, crunched numbers starting at the Kelly Blue Book value, included a trade-in…I nearly fainted at the final price, so I got it.
I later learned I lucked out at this particular dealership. Historically it’d always been the shadiest in my area. Bad press and the internet must’ve caught up with them because they’ve now morphed the opposite way. It must be working :shrug:
When it finally ends, I should type up the saga of my $900 car which I bought about two months ago and haven’t seen since. You really won’t believe it.
Happy Birthday, Mona Lisa. You are a good ex-daughter-in-law.
You mean tedious in this sense, I presume?
Today was Annual MRI Day (Part 1) for my husband. This holiday is not nearly as much fun as it sounds. The actual MRI part is OK, but dealing with the staff can be super annoying.
You see, my husband is allergic to polyester. He can only tolerate 100% cotton fabric. The gowns provided at the facility are a cotton/poly blend. He’s an old pro at MRI’s, and knows the rules (no metal), so he came dressed in a pair of cotton athletic shorts and a cotton T-shirt. The tech started to insist he change into a gown, husband said no and explained why. The tech insisted “The gowns are made of the same thing your shirt is!” and didn’t believe us when we both replied that no, the gowns are a blend and his clothing is 100% cotton. Tech got huffy and went to check, was gone for quite a while, apparently discovered we were right about the content of the gowns, then came back and started interrogating husband about his shorts (whether the drawstring had grommets, etc.) Dude, you’re talking to a patient who has had MRI’s every year for the past nearly twenty years, he knows what to wear!
This facility used to have paper gowns available, but now all they have is the poly cotton blend ones. I know it’s to save money, I don’t blame them for that. I’ve searched the internet for 100% cotton gowns without snaps so he can bring his own, but no luck so far. We have to go through this every single time he has an MRI. Next week is Part II (they can’t do the whole spine and brain all in one sitting) so we’ll most likely be going through this again.
TLDR - having an illness that requires yearly MRI’s and being allergic to anything but cotton hospital gowns is super annoying.
These say they’re 100% cotton with a tie closure. Would the hospital allow them?
That might work. The most important thing for an MRI is no metal. The tech eventually allowed him to just wear his shorts and t-shirt. His MRI scans last for about two hours so the whole “not itching and feeling like his skin is burning” thing is kind of important, yanno?
That’s exactly what they used at the wound care center when my husband was having hyperbaric chamber therapy - they ought to work fine for MRI.
Also, we finally got the better of the car buying process - found a private seller. No dealer fees. No waiting for the sales manager. Going to get the car tomorrow. Saved about 20% of my maximum budget. 
Went to the range today with my practice buddy, we both started trying out serious shot placement instead of the usual dicking around and plinking and just doing defensive shooting. I didn’t do horribly, at least someone else could mostly tell which I was aiming at of the 10 circles on the target. My friend, not so much. Not quite ready for shot placement beyond maybe 12 feet, but she’s gotten a lot better, keeps improving, keeps trying which is most important in my book.
She gets packed up and out to the check-in counter before I do and chats with the two guys behind the counter while watching an instructor giving lessons in the second range. They mention that instructor could do a discounted 30 minute session if she wants some pointers and she says thanks, but we’ve had private instruction and are past the basics.
Guys ask her, “hey, you two practice together all the time, how come she’s so much better than you?” Geez. Isn’t that a bit rude? She’s made a lot of progress in the last few months. Yes, I’m a better shot, but certainly not that good, either. We both know what mistakes we’re making, and are working on them at the range every other week. I mean, it’s obvious, so why bring it up? It doesn’t need to be mentioned, she’s painfully aware without making her have to say it out loud. Sheesh.
That’s the one, with maybe a little bit of Annie Wilkes sledge hammer action on Paul Sheldon, just to the knees instead of the ankles, thrown in for added misery.
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For fuck’s sake, you guys have had the grant money for 2 months. Give me my part of it! I can’t start the project without it and I need to pay rent.
That’s so annoying. I’ve had two MRIs in my life and both times they let me change into a plain T-shirt and a pair of basic running shorts without batting an eye.
Also, two hours? Ouch. Mine were like 15 minutes and I’ve never felt more like a fidgety child in my life. Lying completely still for hours at a time would be brutal.
I’m at the orthopedic surgeon waiting for my followup on my failed surgery. I can’t help but notice this particular room is littered with joint replacement models and posters and literature.
I’m 34 years old FFS. FML
Ssussan! You found my Ssussan! I miss her and still hope to see her in the drawer every time I open it.
I had my right ankle replaced when I was mid-40’s, and it’s still the best thing since sliced bread. Joint replacements are not just for old people anymore.
My pit for the day is Death. I’m almost convinced that no one ever dies without agonizing pain, despite a Dope thread discussion on that very topic some time ago. Everyone I know who has died, human or animal, suffered before the end. That’s horrible to watch as a loved one, even worse when the patient depends on you and looks to you to fix it (children and animals). I couldn’t say “I’m sorry” enough times during those two hours yesterday while he suffered waiting for the doctor to arrive and give him a morphine shot. That ripped my heart out more than actually losing him. 
Heh, I remember that picture (my memory sucks), but it’s from 2016. I was hoping it was maybe 2001.:smack: