"We don't open till 8. We make the appointments for 7:45 because no one shows up on time. I don't know if the doctor will be here right at 8."

That's horrifying. My mother was just complaining because her doctor's office says to get there 15 minutes before your official appointment time -- I said to her it was probably because people are late, and this just confirms that! She should totally just get there at the actual time.

One of my favorite massage therapists did stuff with pulling my limbs around, and it was incredible. Maybe I can ask my current one to do some of that? We have a good enough relationship that she would just say no if she didn't want to.

In other bad news/good news, I just made plans to get together with a friend whose father also has Alz, and was thinking about suggesting a particular place because it seemed dark and seedy enough to cry in, and she suggested the same place for the same reasons!

I keep finding myself muttering, "People these days, no respect." I'm having a lot more sympathy for the old(ish) people of my youth.

and was thinking about suggesting a particular place because it seemed dark and seedy enough to cry in, and she suggested the same place for the same reasons!

Sounds like a good friend who's got the right ideas!

In other bad news/good news, I just made plans to get together with a friend whose father also has Alz, and was thinking about suggesting a particular place because it seemed dark and seedy enough to cry in, and she suggested the same place for the same reasons!

Aw, sweetie. I'm glad you have your friend, though!

I have to admit I kinda skimmed. Today is my last doctor-mandated day off work. I'd planned to go in, but I don't trust driving right now. And, well, they don't want us to work from home, so why not take the hit?

Also, I can't really read for 8 hours. Not bright things.

So healthma to those that need it, raps on the knuckles of deserving medical staff, curses on home appliances, and taking Visine to the Jesse get together. Which reminds me--time for my topical anti-bios. I've almost perfected my technique.

The person taking my blood to type for a transfusion told me "You're next," then came out half an hour later and asked cheerily, "Are you ready?" Then she started giving me dietary advice. Pirates have hijacked my bone marrow and are refusing to make blood cells. I could feed them pounds of steak and rusty nails and not improve the anemia one whit. Also, I was kind of on the clock, in that between already having two medical procedures and then waiting for her, it was going to be a near thing whether I got home before my spoons ran out.

Ginger, I'm thinking you probably should have smacked her.

It occurred to me, but I need those two units of packed red blood cells, which unfortunately they can't give me until Friday, so I have another day of not being able to do anything that requires standing or leaning over.

Well, I hope she gets smacked, proverbially or otherwise, at some point.

It's sort of stupid how good a trip to Target sometimes feels. I mean, it's just toothpaste and stuff, not the Hope Diamond.