I've known too many folks who have had shingles - my dad even got it in his eye - so as soon as it was offered, I jumped on the opportunity.

Whew! Got 72-hour fentanyl patches approved and Hec can pick them up tomorrow morning. And after that, no more stopping everything every 6 hours (including late night wake-ups) for Dilaudid. Tomorrow I may be able to sleep the whole night through!

And, still, I'm retroactively furious for ita. My need for pain relief is being treated so seriously and made such a priority--it's just a symptom, not the problem itself, yet it gets so much thoughtful attention. The pain was ita's entire problem; she didn't have anything bigger and worse bearing down on her; this was it, this was all that needed to be solved. And they couldn't--no, could, but wouldn't do it.

And, still, I'm retroactively furious for ita.

Working in healthcare I often feel this fury. Treatment is not evenly distributed at all. Yes, I am grateful that my doctors go the extra mile for me because they know me, but I hold guilt over that too.

Got my booster, but didn't do the flu vaccine. Partly them just forgetting I scheduled it, and partly me not reminding them because I didn't really want it!

Ugh. My MIL has become somewhat of a recluse. Covid gave her the excuse to not do anything and we have been super annoyed with her. Anyway, my SIL visiting from NY browbeat her into going to the hospital to visit her BIL who broke his hip. MIL is 78 and her BIL is probably near 90. He's doing fine, just mad at himself for doing too much. So she gets talked into going to the hospital to visit, and she trips on her own shoe, in the hospital, falls, and just got 16 stitches. She kind of shuffles from being so inactive and tripped over her own feet. I don't have a lot of detail, but apparently, a good egg on her head and she will be quite a colorful sight with the bruising and stitches. I'd say zero chance of her coming here for my son's birthday party next week. (understandably) She'll be okay, we just worry we will never get her out of the house again.

She'll be okay, we just worry we will never get her out of the house again.

This is certainly going to validate her worldview that the outside world is dangerous and dire and she'd be better off sitting in a chair, by herself.

Yeah, I can see where your MIL did not get the reinforcement from the universe that one might hope, Laura. I’m sorry, and I hope she feels better—physically and emotionally—soon.

Yay fentanyl patches! I’m glad that’s taken care of, JZ. And I agree, pain management system in the US is both racist and classist, and everyone should have similar access to relief.

In other news, I finally cracked the code on French toast this morning. I’d made soggy sadness that only served as a vehicle for maple syrup in the past. It turns out I was soaking the bread too long and cooking at too low a heat. I revised both parts of the process this morning and made wonderfully golden-brown French toast—a little crisp on the outer edges and perfectly soft (but not soggy) in the middle. And if there was ever a chance that I’d be slender in this lifetime, that chance has flown, because day-um.

Mmmm, French toast. So yum. My nephew makes a French toast casserole that is yum. Maybe I'll try that when my son visits next week.

MIL is sore, but okay. I really can't go over there as I have things that must be done here. We are trying to persuade her to come and hang in the lounge chair with tv and bathroom a few feet away at my place. Then I can keep her company while I sort through a dozen bins of stuff still unpacked. My SIL didn't sleep all night and would happily bring her here and crash in my bed.

I got the first shingles shot and forgot to go back for the second! I should see about that...

Timelies all!

Quiet here. Mr. S is with his nanny and Gary went to the 60th anniversary party for the Baltimore Science Fiction Society. I could have gone, but didn't feel very social.

A quiet evening sound very nice Sheryl.