Deadline pressure

    Firefox has a new update this New Year's Eve, and I'm afraid if I write anything particularly weighty or verbose I won't have time to download it, too. So all you're getting at the moment is a "Happy New Year!" and I'll write the real blog post later as an edit if time permits.
     Edit: Hey, I don't have to feel like a heel anymore. Margaret had pain in her back and in her leg, so she wasn't feeling good enough to visit Dad. So they couldn't have gone to the New Year's dance anyway. Not that I feel good about that; I feel terrible. But the silver lining is that I can go see George Clinton with a reasonably clear conscience.

B12 and coping skills

    (Or lack of same and lack of same.) So as I've mentioned here and there, though maybe not on this blog, I recently discovered that Aldi changed their spice supplier at some point this year and their spice labels now read "may contain wheat, soy or milk." I learned a valuable lesson about trusting corporations. Don't. Ever. So when I noticed that my cinnamon (eaten every day) and cumin (every third day, say, on average) were most likely contaminated, I threw them out and bought McCormick's. McCormick's is much-admired in the celiac community for never putting gluten in any of their single-spice packages.
    And it was like 2007 all over again. Clinical depression went away. Suicide watch was lifted. Good cheer returned. Problems start looking like challenges to be confronted and solved rather than roadblocks to be avoided. Granted, there are a lot of problems, some scarier than ever. But I can see being able to handle them, or anyway to laugh at them. I've mentioned but I'll mention again that the chief problem I have from celiac sprue is that I can't get enough vitamin B12, which leads to all this nervousness and crippling depression.
    I'm not quite out of the woods yet. I'm taking B and C supplements to get my B12 levels up quickly. But I'm returning to the point where I can remember that this is the Johnocentric universe and I'm John; things have a way of working out.

More fiasco-like

    Last night after his dialysis, we took Dad to Lizard's Thicket. That didn't work out so well. He had no energy and little appetite. Malcolm took him back to Rice Estate and I drove along behind to backstop him. Inside the door were a couple of wheelchairs, and Dad suggested we give him a ride. This is a fair measure how exhausted he was. We did, of course. We got him back to his room and he settled in pretty well, phoning Margaret as I left. He had another supper there, too, if he wanted it, so if his appetite returned later he wouldn't have any problem. Anyway not a fiasco exactly, but probably not the best idea ever. (The ham I had was very nice, though! And Anne got to try the chocolate meringue pie. Chocolate meringue pie?)

One of the best fiascos ever

    So yeah, it WAS fun. Dad's appointment went no problem at all. We were dreading having his eyes dilated, and he did have, but he didn't have any problems with it except he had trouble seeing or getting around unless all the lights were on. While Malcolm and I waited, Anne called to propose going out for early supper. Dad preferred Outback Steakhouse and as late as we could manage, so we went over to Margaret's to hang out and wait. Malcolm brought Margaret's notebook computer up to date after 7 months in abeyance and we watched TV.
    Outback was pleasant. For some reason they had the air conditioning on and it was flaming death (well; not literally) getting them to turn it off. Also the steaks were cold. But we had a pleasant time. Unfortunately, service was unbelievably slow and I had to abandon them to get to Drinking Liberally on time. Where... nobody showed up. Still a commitment's a commitment.
    Upshot is that Dad's vision is fine. He can keep his license. He thinks he's going to be driving and no one can dissuade him; I'm hoping this turns out to be wrong. Doctor just wants him taking fish oil with vitamins. Sounds like a super idea in any case. His balance was OK, and he said several times (in between complaining about the bitter coffee) that he was glad he chose Outback. So that was fun.
    Meanwhile, Margaret and he want to go to the New Year's Eve dance at the Senior Center. Much as I love the idea, they neither of them are getting around that well and we don't have a couple of NFL linebackers handy to keep them from falling. At the same time, for the first time in my life, there is actually something I want to do on New Year's Eve. (George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic are going to be on Main St.) So I feel like a heel, but at the moment I'm putting the kibosh on it. Maybe we'll find a way. That would be neat.

This'll be fun

    Earlier this month, Dad got a letter from the DMV saying that he had to have an eye exam by an eye doctor to continue to have a driver's license. Turns out that this was because his eye doctor had told the DMV two years ago that he would need an exam in two years. Sooo I begged and pleaded and got him an appointment before the deadline, and the appointment is today. It's raining. He isn't moving well. There is no one on Earth besides himself who wants to see him driving. I haven't cleared this or even discussed it with the nursing home. What could possibly go wrong?
    Fortunately I have Malcolm along for backup, and the rain isn't too bad. Dad can talk and has no doubt notified the staff that he's going for an eye exam. I would normally be going out there with Margaret a half hour later anyway, so it's pretty much my normal routine. (She asked that we call her when the appointment's over, so I will. Hopefully we can pick her up so they can be together for part of the day at least.)
    So there's at least a chance that things can go smoothly. Knock on wood!
    Meanwhile, I haven't seen so much of visiting family, but Malcolm came around last night bearing tunage. We found that the new mini-component setup handles jazz pretty well. Also Pepper Adams was (or is) pretty cool.

Hung by the chimney with care

    We successfully delivered Dad to Margaret's daughter Bunny's house and back with no major mishaps. One stumble, but he was caught before he could fall. And he looked very nice. But he did not look a lot like a man who was going to be dancing out of the facility any time soon. However, the dialysis folks think that they've figured out why his blood pressure has been too low (he was drinking too much water) so hopefully he will rally again in the new year.
    Meanwhile, nephew James' new bride Christina celebrated her first Christmas in the US. She's from Mexico and had previously gone home to celebrate. And they announced her pregnancy. We did our best to look astonished, having been forewarned by proud future Grandma Anne. It was nice that Christina got to have her first US Christmas in warm family surroundings. The fact that there were a lot of ladies there who could give her tips on getting over morning sickness was probably also a plus.
    So a good time was had by all, and we got Daddy back to Rice Home in time for supper. Yay!

It's come to this

    I finally had a happy dream. And what could my brain come up with as a happy dream? I dreamed that I found the gluten-free soft corn tortillas that Publix carried for a few months, then didn't anymore. When I woke up, I was really pissed that they weren't really in my refrigerator. Boy, my hopes and dreams have narrowed down a lot, haven't they? I used to believe in romance and hope; now tasty gluten-free tortillas are my highest aspiration. Then again, it's at least attainable.
    Not meaning to bring people down on the big day; take all that with tongue in cheek, and a merry, merry Christmas to all!