L’Shana Tova

L’Shana Tova from my family to yours.  Vegetarian matzo ball soup provided by Chef Gary.  Caramel apple mascarpone kugel courtesy of me, joy provided by Jasper and an unexpected visit from Eric ❤️

Not a fan of the medical profession

 

I need to vent 😎

So I have old lady eye problems that I’ve been trying to resolve since June.

It’s gotten so bad I’m almost blind in my left eye.  Last night after washing dishes, I was trying to put the sharp knives back in their butcher block holder and I had to feel for the compartments because I couldn’t see them.

The entire left side of my body is bruised because I keep banging into furniture and walls.

Anyway, the first procedure scheduled at the end of June was canceled and rescheduled to July because of Covid.

A day before the scheduled July procedure, when I didn’t hear from Wills Eye Hospital as to what time to be there, I called my doctor and uh-oh, I “must have fallen through the cracks.  We’re so sorry.  Can we reschedule for August 17?”

Hell no.  It’s my birthday.  August is my birthday month.  Fuck that noise, I’ll be blind another month, what’s the difference at this point, I’m going on vacation.

Rescheduled for September 20.

Yay!

Except…

Friday I get a call from the doctor.

“We need clearance from your cardiologist for your anesthesia.”

“Okay, I’ll call him.”

“We already did.  You were last there June 1.  We need clearance within 90 days.  You need to make an appointment.”

“But I’ll never get an appointment by Tuesday.  Are you serious?  I did so well at my June appointment, my cardiologist doesn’t want to see me for a year!”

“Sorry.  We have to postpone the surgery.  Call your cardiologist, get an appointment, and call me back to reschedule.”

Anyway, without going into it any further without telling you how much I fucking hate everyone and everything, I was magically able to get an appointment 10/3, called the eye doctor back and rescheduled surgery for 10/10, but not until I learned I need a new eye doctor appointment first because, yep, you guessed it, 90 days since last appointment.

That appointment is a three hour grueling nightmare by the way but again, I will spare you.

Okay, I feel better now.  Other than that, life is grand.  I can’t believe how much I love being retired.

I mean, come on.  I wake up, then I relax all day.  What’s not to love?

Gary is taking me to the beach next week where I can relax and hopefully not hurt myself banging into things.

The weather is glorious right now.

It could be worse.

Happy September

 So Gary was just shopping at the farmers market and a guy looked at him and said, “I love your station!” and Gary replied, “Thank you!”

I wonder why.

Me: “You didn’t tell him you’re really a retired plumbing salesman?  Haha who did they think you were? Bruce Warren? David Dye?”

Gary:

Me:  What did you tell him?

Gary:  🎶 I am the deejay, I am what I play 🎶

Oy.  In other news, what a fucking day.  My debit card was hacked, I was on hold with the bank so long I almost had a stroke, and then I ended up having to go there in person where the manager helped me, only it was her first week on the job and I was her first fraud claim.

Right now I’m out $600 and she told me it will be ten days before I get my money back.

I’m afraid I lost it.

But me being me, felt immediately terrible and apologized profusely while telling myself I would go to another branch tomorrow and deal with someone who knew what they were doing.

Anyway, Google told me it would not be ten days, more like 3-5, and guess what, I just looked again and the money is already back this afternoon because I have been checking my balance nonstop.

You see, somehow the thief is still using my card, even though it’s been canceled and reported.  

And where did he get my debit card information? Especially since I haven’t used it for anything but my hair since the pandemic?

Ah, Woodstock.

I didn’t want to talk about it, but after camp ended Friday, we stayed an extra night in Woodstock to see Julie’s show at the Bearsville Theater.  All nearby hotels were sold out, and there aren’t many, plus we had a dog with us, so I booked a place 10 miles away in Kingston, NY through Priceline.

The Rodeway Inn.

Never ever never ever go there.

It was the fucking Bates Motel.

I’ll spare you the details.

But they had “residents.”

Anyway, even though I paid for the room through Priceline, I still had to hand the clerk my debit card, and I watched him make a copy.

Whoever used my card had the 3 digit security number so it’s pretty fucking obvious how he got it.

Btw, I told all this to the bank manager but she didn’t seem interested.

Gary of course wants to go there (Rodeway Inn, not the bank) in person with a baseball bat 🤦‍♀️

Anyway, so yeah, birthday month is officially over.

But the Gary story was cute, right?

Right.