Screwing Up the Schedule

Dearest Rachel –

No sooner did I hit ‘publish’ on yesterday‘s letter when two things happened to upend my day. First of all, “Riri” wrote back, right after I got through telling you all the reasons why she wouldn’t. I still promise to tell you more about that, but on top of her explanations (some of which made sense, others… not so much), she sent me a virtual questionnaire, including a “why didn’t you…?” about how she’d asked me to send her a photo of myself, and I haven’t yet. In fairness, my entire profile dates from a year or two ago, so none of my pictures include my current facial hair. So she has a fair point. On the other hand, it’s not like I have any pictures of her, apart from the single one on her profile (compared to five or six of mine on mine). Since I have yet to respond, I’ll fill you in on the details as they come in later on.

The second thing that happened within a minute or two of my posting yesterday‘s letter was a text I received from Lars, saying that he would be “there” in ten or fifteen minutes, at 11:15. By “there,” I realized he was referring to our customary walk through Harms Woods and points north – which, given his preference to meet early on in the week, would be considered a reasonable expected. However, this time around, I was thrown for a loop, since we had spoken over the weekend (as we do to arrange these), and I thought he mentioned having a scheduling conflict on Tuesday; therefore, we were going to meet and walk on Thursday instead. It turned out that what he had meant was that he was going to make arrangements to break that other engagement in order to meet with me, and then come over to see the folks on Thursday, particularly since Dad’s situation, while not critical, has gotten somewhat frustrating, for lack of a better word for it.

You see, his feeding tube has gotten to the point where it can’t be relied upon not to leak at the most inconvenient or inappropriate times. Going out in public, for any reason, is becoming something of a gamble for my folks. And while their home is nice and comfortable (hey, there’s a reason I set up my ‘office’ in their basement, rather than ours), it’s still a case of being imprisoned in there; so you can understand his frustration. Moreover, the spot on his stomach where the tube attaches (and where it leaks from, as opposed to the input end, where I’ve also seen the occasional leak during feeding times) has been chafing, in part due to those very leaks, and it can be painful as well as embarrassing to deal with, especially in public. So the idea was to have Lars stop by and take a look at it.

But that was supposed to be tomorrow, rather than yesterday, and I got that confused when we spoke over the weekend. As a result, when I got his text, I had only been settled in for a half-hour or so in my office, and was already weary from putting in a fairly standard workout in the gym. I was neither in the place or condition to head out to the woods to walk for another seven or eight miles (nor were my shoes, for that matter; the trails all but require hiking boots at this time of year and in their condition, and I was caught with an older pair of gym shoes – although not so old as you’d recognize them). All I could do was to quickly text about my situation, at which point, he called me back, and I explained how I had been caught flat-footed.

It worked out, though; since he had freed up his schedule already, all he had to do was drive a little further out, and he could meet with the folks today (and I could drop in on the conversation). He looked at the wound and recommended some topical analgesics to deal with the pain – including mentioning that old Head On product (you know, the “apply directly to the forehead” stuff?), since it’s basically made of the same stuff as aspirin is. I always thought that was a scam product, but apparently certain types of headaches (and obviously, various forms of surface-level joint pain) actually can benefit from such an application. It’s just that many headaches tend to be deeper within the brain, where a topical application won’t do any good; one has to know where the problem is in order to determine which remedy and administration is more efficacious. His aren’t complete solutions – he can’t do much about the leaks, personally – but quite frankly, what he could offer was better done sooner than later.

Although once that was out of the way, the two of us stayed upstairs with the folks for several hours.  Rather than going back down to my office, I hung around with Lars as we gathered around the puzzle that dad was putting together (which is what he does to entertain himself and keep his mind sharp).  The problem is, that sort of thing is rather engrossing; we were working on that for the next two or three hours, and all but lost track of time.  I had promised Daniel that we would go shopping to replace the bulb in the upstairs bathroom sometime between three and four, but it was nearly four in the afternoon by the time I left the ‘office’ and stopped for gas for the car; and it was well after four (and dark) by the time I got home, making the trip considerably later than I’d intended.

On the other hand, that didn’t really mess up our schedule; with Logan off to be with his family for a funeral, Daniel was free for the evening, So we managed to spend it doing some shopping. Not that we found the bulb; it so happens that that particular model of fluorescent light is all but extinct. We may have to stop at a specialty shop today, and if they don’t have it, we may have to replace the vanity entirely. So last night was not as successful as we’d hoped.

As a final hitch to scheduling, once we did get home, Daniel and I hung out together, watching YouTube and the like, for several hours, only calling it a night when I realized what time it had gotten to. It would seem that the two of us are starting to finally get back to Central Time, which I’m not sure is a good thing.  Because of the late night, I didn’t get up until almost seven o’clock this morning, leaving me with no real time to get to the gym. To be sure, I’m almost certain that my body is grateful, but my mind is somewhat apprehensive, especially when I step on the scale… and no, I’m not going to tell you what it read, not right now.

Anyway, I need to get on with my day; if nothing else, I have to come up with something to respond to “Riri” with.  If at all possible, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.