Sorry for all the typos in my last few posts and messages. Finding out that typing with one hand results in even more mistakes than usual…..
There is a great deal of advice out there about the aging process, but I find that I keep making mistakes anyway.
To help avoid those mistakes, I’ve come up with a new (for me anyway) 3-step set of guiding principles I find necessary to repeat any time I am upright and attempting to move from one place to another; i.e., walk. Pretty simple: 1) watch where you’re going, 2) slow down, and 3) watch where you’re going.
To illustrate the importance of chanting this 3-step mantra, consider the fact that I have injured myself by falling to the ground (or concrete) 4 times in the last 12 months, 3 of those 4 in the last 4 months. To be precise, and to salve my injured pride, I just fall down because my legs didn’t work. Honest – I tripped on things that made me fall.
Fall #1: tripped in the garage on a box of books to be donated. Result: 3 stitches above left eyebrow and an eye that looked like I’d gone 20 seconds with Floyd Mayweather. Failure to watch where I was going. (Told by older son it was my fault for attempting to give away books.)
Fall #2: tripped over an air intake pipe for one of those bouncy things at kids’ parties while pretending to be about 72 years younger. Result: x-ray of right shoulder and 6 physical therapy sessions. Moving too fast and failure to watch where I was going.
Fall #3: tripped because my sandal got caught under the screen door on my way out of the side entrance to the garage. Result: dislocated fingers and 21 stitches in my right hand (pretty sure I tried to break my fall by grabbing the corner of the small concrete pad just outside the garage door, but not certain). Moving too fast.
Fall #4: (notice the irony) tripped over one of those concrete things that keep you from driving your car too far in a parking space, after parking in a handicapped spot while attempting to exit the parking lot and enter the local health club. Result: big-time injured pride, cuts and bruises, reinjured right hand fingers, and didn’t make it to yoga. Moving too fast and failure to watch where I was going.
Trips and falls #1-3 required professional medical attention; so far we’re relying on first aid the #4.
Things seem to be improving, but again it’s the learning about being old that kicks in. Wasn’t too long ago these sorts of minor things would be shaken off with some Ben-Gay and exercise. Now it’s 4-6 weeks.
What got me going on all this: a) the most unwelcome movies of these events apparently trapped forever in the theater of my mind, and b) the set of bills for #3, which required a visit to the emergency room.
First the movies. Can’t seem to stop playing them. Which in a way is good because it remings to watch where I’m going, slow down, and watch where I’m going.
Finally, the bills. The emergency room bill for trip and fall #3 came to $10,713.00. No kidding. The bill includes (I’ve rounded the charges to the nearest $1) 2 hand x-rays ($800), CT scans of the head and spine ($5,400), a standard emergency “Level IV” visit ($3,100), treat finger dislocation ($678), 2 pain killer tablets ($11), and a few other charges but my fingers have started hurting because I’m typing too much.
Near as I can compute, and computing this number from my Medicare Advantage company’s 10 pages of a “user-friendly” report, my plan has approved a payment of $404.72, or $10,308.28 less than the hospital has on its “itemization of services provided.”
I’m sure I haven’t heard the end of this; there will be some co-pays popping up at some point. My plan documents tell me I’ll owe $75 just for thinking about going to the emergency room (just kidding). I’ll get a bill for $75 and some on the itemization list the insurance doesn’t cover, but it can’t possibly add up to $10,308.28.
If it does I’ll see y’all when I offer you a smile and a shopping cart at WalMart. And I’ll be reminding the older folks (and myself) to watch where you’re going and slow down. For the nest 10 years if I live that long…..
(Note: A few readers have asked why I often, nearly always, end my musings with “Good grief.” It’s a favorite expression of the Charlie Brown character in the comic strip “Peanuts,” and that character and his combat with life’s challenges have always reminded me of, well, my own challenges.)
When the National Center for State Courts (NCSC) opened in Williamsburg, Virginia, back in the early 70’s, a huge celebration marked the event. President Nixon and Chief Justice of the United States Warren Burger, in a horse-drawn carriage, led a parade of state appellate judges and administrators from all 50 states as it wound through Colonial Williamsburg to the new NCSC building.
I was one of the administrators in the Michigan delegation. About half way through the parade, I felt a gentle tug on the sleeve of my suitcoat and looked down to see a girl about the age of my younger daughter (maybe 5). She asked me “Are you famous?” and I told her the famous people were up front in the carriage.
Her mother apologized for the interruption, and I told her no apology was necessary. Pointing to the others in our group, I said we were all parents and loved it when the little ones surprised us.
(The National Center for State Courts is a non-profit organization charged with improving judicial administration in the United States and around the world.)
Who is the author of the following definition of consensus?
“Consensus: “The process of abandoning all beliefs, principles, values, and policies in search of something in which no one believes, but to which no one objects; the process of avoiding the very issues that have to be solved, merely because you cannot get agreement on the way ahead. What great cause would have been fought and won under the banner: I stand for consensus?”
(No fair looking it up…..)
a. Ronald Reagan
b. Donald J. Trump
c. Margaret Thatcher
d. Franklin D. Roosevelt
e. Winston Churchill
f. George W. Bush
g. None of the above
h. All of the above
Answer: c I look forward to your comments.
A few years ago – OK – over 60 years ago, some pals and I would buy 3 or 4 sacks of sliders for about 10 cents each, roughly 12 sliders, a sack, and sneak into the Southtown theater (63rd St., near Halstead, South Chicago). We’d set out sentries to watch for ushers, then when the coast was clear we’d escort the sacks, with the irresistable White Castle slider scent emanating from same, down the aisle until somebody asked “How much?”
We’d done it so often we had repeat customers.
We’d make about 15 cents a slider and use the money for popcorn, Pepsi, Charleston Chew candy bars, and more sliders when the show let out.
Today, happiness is finding a box of 6 White Castle sliders in the frozen food section at Aldi, then racing home to microwave and eat them while watching football and the U.S. Open Tennis Tournament.
Aside from concluding the women’s doubles championship was much more artistic and interesting than the men’s singles (blast the ball back and forth until somebody misses a shot), it was great.
Caution: you have to add your own dill pickle slice.
Sometimes Facebook serves as something to occupy me while I’m on hold with my doctor’s office or waiting for a voicemail prompt that actually has something to do with why I’m calling.
And then there are those times when a Facebook post smacks me right in the area that is rumored to contain something capable of rational thought. Two such posts just got me:
1) Paraphrased: Those folks worried about destroying history by tearing down Confederate statues will be thrilled to learn about books, and
2) Also paraphrased: In July of 1776 a bunch of New Yorkers tore down a statue of George III, thereby making it impossible to learn who won the Revolutionary War.
This social media thing just might have a future……
Read the comics in the newspaper? “Argyle Sweater” in today’s (July27, 2017) Raleigh News & Observer has a moth and a ladybug at a bar. The moth’s beer can: “Bug Weiser” and the ladybug’s: “Bug Light.”
Moth: “Ya know, contrary to popular belief, I’m really not drawn to the light at all.”
Ha! (Like a moth drawn to the light…..get it?)
And then there is this old chestnut, circa 1970, around Haloween time in Lansing, Michigan:
Two vampires sit at the bar.
Bartender: “What’ll you have?”
First Vampire: “Blood.”
Second Vampire: “Plasma.”
Bartender: “That’s a Blood and a Blood Lite, comin’ up.”
Ha! (Well, my kids liked it…..)
Two Irishmen leave a bar.
It could happen!
(And I’m half Murphy…..)