I’m not even reading the past three days and offering sympathy. I’m just bitching. I’ll do the other bit in a minute.
For the past two plus years, my mom has subscribed to the idea that it’s better for the environment if she burns most of her non-metallic trash, versus taking it to the recycling station 3/4 of a mile from her house.
Yesterday it finally happened. My mom set a bag of trash afire. Plastic bag, foam plates, gusty wind.
Fortunately, my brother cut the meadow last week. My dad has second degree burns on both hands, my mom burnt both feet, and the forestry firefighters arrived quickly. My mom’s stupid notion of burning trash resulted in a 3-acre brushfire, and she was lucky. My dad went to the hospital. He’s diabetic. Extremity wounds are dangerous.
I’m so mad, because this scared me.
Honestly, if Ma wants to off herself in her perverse idea of environmentalism, I guess it’s her business. But she endangered herself and her neighbors. No bueno.
The funny bit, because there’s always a funny bit:
Ma thinks this is between her and my brother. And my brother and I do share responsibility for the things that our mom needs, and that’s fine.
But my brother just transferred ownership of the property where my mom lives to satisfy a loan. His idea, not mine.
My mom is going to be pissed when she learns of this, even though it’s the same terms (I hope she can pay $100/month for property tax and insurance, but it’s okay if she can’t.)
But she really will be cheesed when she finds that it’s my property and not my brother’s. Even if nothing changes.
Our mini horse, Sugar, died over the weekend. She had always struggled with asthma and had been having a real hard time breathing lately, so we had the vet out last week, who gave her allergy meds and antibiotics. Miss Sugar had started eating again and seemed to be feeling better…and then we went out to the barn and found her gone. A heart attack maybe.
I’m really not in the mood to get any more animals right now, but Sugar’s death leaves our sweet donkey Joey with no company out in the pasture, and that’s not good for them, so I’m looking around for somebody to adopt or rescue.
Awww, I’m so sorry about Sugar. I got to meet a group of mini horses once (trained as assistant animals, I think maybe guides for the blind?) and was impressed with how intelligent and quiet they all acted. Fully housebroken, too!
They seem like lovely animals. I am sorry you lost yours.
Are you looking to adopt a companion for your donkey, or looking for someone who would adopt your donkey?
We’d definitely rather adopt another donkey, mini horse, or other equine than give up Joey. We’ve found some possible candidates at nearby rescue organizations, but there are so many hoops to jump through first, it may take awhile.
Thank you for the kind words.
I used to sleep all thru the night with no issues and wake up refreshed and ready to go.
Then I had a child.
Now I sleep for shit. The slightest sound wakes me up. And if there’s no sound I wake up at 2 am anyway and can’t go back to sleep.
Moral of the story: Don’t have children.
That happened to me too. I became an absolute anxious mess after my daughter was born. Some of this is normal, I think, to make sure that babies don’t die in the night and then our brains are just like “this is normal now, keep doing the normal” but it can also be extreme. At one point, I was terrified to leave the house because I was convinced actual harm would come to my baby. However, I didn’t realize that those types of feelings weren’t normal and that maybe I should have gotten help until much much later.
Anyway, you aren’t alone and I hope it gets better soon.
So remember how I complained about my shoulder hurting the other day? I took a bunch of ibuprofen to get through my days because the pain was that annoying. And, usually, this doesn’t bother me. Until now. Because I turned 30 and the wheels are just gonna fall off and now my stomach can’t take ibuprofen. (Or maybe I’m sick or any number of things. Why is this happening?!)
I’m so fucking frustrated. I’m waiting on a pathology report from a doctor visit two weeks ago. Last week the nurse left a message on my home phone (yes I have a landline) to call her. I called and left a message asking her to please call my cellphone. She called my home phone again the next day. I’ve now left four messages asking that she please call my cell and she called my home phone twice today. “We seem to be playing phone tag.” NO, we are not playing phone tag. Someone is not paying attention to my messages. There is no option to speak to a live person. I just sent a message through their patient portal so hopefully someone will get the phone number to her. The office is closed on Friday so if I don’t hear back from someone by tomorrow afternoon, I guess I’ll have to go to the office and sit there until someone will talk to me. I don’t want to worry through another weekend. Grrr.
You probably already know this, but ibuprofen can irritate the stomach lining, so it’s recommended to take it with or just after food. If you’re taking it on an empty stomach, it could be as simple as that. If you need to take something on an empty stomach for some reason, try paracetamol, which shouldn’t have this side effect. Disclaimer: I have had zero medical training - speak to a doctor or pharmacist. But you knew that, too.
Well: No one fasttracked my reimbursement. No one approved it, for that matter. No one informed me that they still weren’t approving it. But a week went by, and when I checked the website, the claim still showed Denied.
I found a phone number, which wasn’t easy. Called. Spent an hour on hold and talking to three different people, not counting the time when they dropped my call and I had to call back via the phone maze (“If you want to talk to an actual person, key in 3.14159…”).
“We have to have your prescription list on letterhead,” they explained. “With a signature.”
I explained all over again that the insurance company only provided this document and that it had worked in the past. Just a list of Rx numbers, medications, dates filled, person filled for, and cost I paid. That’s all they give their customers.
Eventually the FSA people called the insurance company, and set up a conference call with me and them. Insurance company confirms. That’s all we do. That’s all we give the customers.
“I’ll make a note in the file,” says the representative from the FSA company. And hopefully he did, because the clock on this is now up over two hours and I REALLY don’t want to have this conversation again.
I am pretty religious about making sure to have things in my stomach before taking ibuprofen. But you can still cause problems if you are taking too much.
However, after going to the doctor today, that did NOT end up being my problem. I’m pregnant and it might be ectopic and, well, now I’m just a ball of panic. I hope it’s not ectopic. We’ve been trying. I’m having all the feelings right now.
Simple fix once Monday rolls around [or the next weekday] Remove your landline from your file, leave only the number you WANT to be contacted on - I honestly don’t see any point to differentiating between mobile and landline, if they request a landline, tell them that the cell is the only number that you can be reached upon.
Just like I have some scrips that get e-filed to Walgreens, and some go to the Navy dispensary - the ones to the Navy I require to be done on paper and physically handed to me, and we take them to base and turn them in and collect them in person. I have a page I print out every single visit that lists my medications, the doses and the scheduling, and they are listed in 2 sections - e-file section and hard copy section, and I hand it over to the person in the practice responsible for doing the prescription setup for the doc to sign off upon. It has clear instructions at the top of the page, informing them that this is the copy of the list for the office, and to check off each prescription as it is handled.
Have you noticed that you can’t get a half gallon of ice cream anymore? They look the same size on the outside, but they’ve raised the bottom of the container up so that it’s actually 1.5 quarts. Same price, though.
Waiting for the blood test results to come back is really, really hard. I’m trying to be patient. I’m trying to not cry at work in front of everyone (I thought work would be a good distraction). I wish we could just know now and I could just get the feelings over with. Do I need to mourn or can I celebrate? Do I need medicine or surgery? Gosh, I just want to make a plan.
I had to put my seventeen-year-old cat down last night. I took him to the vet because he’d been losing weight and not grooming himself lately, but I pretty much knew how it was going to go. Bruno was a brave and beautiful cat who deserves his own thread with pictures and a great eulogy, but I just can’t do it. He was my friend.
Not a good week for animals around here…
