Situation normal-- pretty good

    You thought I was going to say something else, didn't you? Short version is that Dad got his new drain in no problem, was eating breakfast and doing well when I called to check in, and also has dialysis scheduled for this afternoon. So he's going to have a pretty dang full day. Couple of odd things for the longer version: they called to ask permission to do the drain procedure, then called back to say that since it was continuation of care from the earlier one, they didn't need permission. Then when I called to check in about noon, they wanted me to talk to the dialysis nurse to give permission for that. Now he's been on dialysis for three or four years now. Talk about continuation of care! Maybe it was because he had also had the drain procedure today. Anyway, I certainly gave permission; if it lets him see the football game tomorrow (or if not Carolina's game, the other ones), I'm sure he's all for it. And dialysis certainly beats the alternative.
    The rubber is hitting the road, literally, for the State Fair, and I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to leave the neighborhood by car all weekend. Also the football team is having homecoming tomorrow. At noon. I don't know whose brilliant idea this was. I expect to have people trying to park in my living room. So I'm not going to be able to visit Dad as much as I would wish. The Fair runs through Sunday (with MC Hammer, baby!) so traffic is not likely to abate. But we will find a way! Hell, it's walking distance to the hospital for me!

Don't be alarmed, but Dad is back in the hospital

    Dad's gall bladder drain quit draining, so he's back in the hospital. The probability of course is that he will have a new one installed, but things are quite up in the air. I spent the morning with him in the ER and Margaret and I spent the afternoon with him in the ER and ICU. (I guess that deserves a "Don't be alarmed," too. ICU because he's nearly 94, I expect, rather than because he's in any dire shape.) It's sad that they don't have phones in ICU so he can't stay in as close touch as he likes. But maybe he'll get some rest.
    The nurse didn't know for sure what was going on or when. They were waiting for the surgeon to come around and no one knew when that would be either. We were able to get Dad some food. He ate very little, but at least he ate, and he drank his milk. Both better than nothing.
    His dialysis has been going better and worse. Better because he's feet are no longer swollen gigantic; worse because they've beat hell out of his arms trying to find his access. But the point is that if they need to do the procedure tomorrow and then do dialysis Saturday, it shouldn't be any problem. Well, except for the USC football game. A man has to have priorities.

Adwentures

    So I was expecting to have trouble with the weather yesterday. I didn't expect to have trouble with the vice president. Joe Biden was speaking at Allen University yesterday. I didn't know about it at the time but checked news reports after the fact. They said he would be speaking in the late morning; we got on the road after 2:30. There must have been a lengthy reception afterwards. His route to the airport crossed our route to the nursing home just about every way possible. If I had known about it, I could have taken the beltway, but that's about the sum of my choices. I doubled back two or three times and eventually got around, but only because the motorcade had passed by then.
    The result was that we took longer to get to the interstate than we spent on the interstate, which is fairly unusual. And we got shoved into the teeth of the storm, which otherwise we would have avoided. (I still like Joe, though.) I saw that the rain was coming and traffic would slow to a crawl so I got off the freeway one exit early and took my flooding on mostly two-lane roads. Margaret said that we must really love him to go through all that to see him. It was fairly exhilarating, though, and never all that dangerous. The ride home was anticlimactic, as the rain subsided until midnight or so. I successfully kept both kitties indoors for both storms and what's more, they behaved. I'll send it in as evidence of a miracle when Biden is up for canonization.

Tornadoish

    Usually I apologize for the blog entry being about nothing. Today I HOPE it's about nothing. We're under a tornado watch. Pretty much both Carolinas and Georgia. We're even trending on Facebook! Usually, these things peter out into nothing, or at least nothing locally. Hoping most sincerely for more of the same. Especially as this is a day for visiting Dad and 20 miles or so on the Internet isn't that fun even without a tornado. At the moment, it's intermittently cloudy. I can go for it staying this way all day.
    Dreams are still in the frustrating nightmare zone. I had a job interview TODAY but was stuck in a car with family riding around doing their errands. And then it turned out it was tomorrow. So a semi-nightmare. I could go for a night's sleep without any of these. Maybe the tornado will blow them away.

Feet super

    Sorry for the incredibly minor update, but taking out the original insoles on my hiking boots appears to have worked and the ridiculously expensive Superfeet insoles appear to be effective after all. I mean in the good way. I guess trying them out with a 6-mile round-trip walk on concrete and asphalt wasn't the shrewdest idea ever. But pain is gradually going away, and was quite minor to begin with, and my back is starting to feel better, too. On the same principle of spending a lot to avoid spending a lot more, I'll probably get a new car stereo, speaker and antenna to make the old car a lot newer again. Soon.
    Peter Case put on an outstanding show last night. He did many songs and told many stories, all totally delightful. One of the stories was about all the times he had had his equipment stolen. After the show, I found myself alone on stage with his guitars. I only thought about it for an instant. Or two.
    I noticed an odd recurring theme about my dreams last night. Most people dream about the class in college they forgot they registered for and now have to catch up on an entire semester in a day. I used to have that dream all the time. Now, though rather than anxiety, my college-type dreams revolve around minor annoyances. Always, or practically always, I'm in some kind of dorm situation and I've forgotten my mailbox combination (we didn't really have those, did we?) and can't get my mail. Oh, and I'm always leaving furniture in places I've moved out. I think last night I had three sets of furniture left behind and mail I couldn't pick up. Odd.

Interesting results

    To start with, the Southern Culture on the Skids show was awesome. Unfortunately, I was late and they were on time (who ever heard of punctuality in rock-n-roll?) but I made it in time for "The Real Nitty Gritty," which is all that counts. They did a festival set, meaning 45 minutes, and I knew every song but the last one. They brought people from the crowd to throw fried chicken at the audience during "Eight-Piece Box." By then, I was far enough away (since they were REALLY loud) that I don't know if it was real fried chicken. Anything's possible!
    Anyway, the results of the expensive insole experiment were odd. My feet don't feel broken anymore, but the ball of my left foot feels bruised and both shins just below the knee feel somewhat like what I imagine shin splints might be like. It's a very mild pain, though, so there's that. The young man who sold me the insoles suggested I take out the built in Keen insoles. I didn't. Now I have. Maybe they'll work better now. I hope so.
    Dad isn't doing too great, but he's still in there slugging. He's coughing a lot and choking sometimes, but in between he was still trying to sing to Margaret. "My Blue Heaven," one of his favorites.

Sucker born every minute

    So today is the day of the Jam Room Music Festival downtown and also probably the peak day for the State Fair since a) it's Saturday and b) it's warm and beautiful outside. Since I live next to the fairgrounds, driving out of here doesn't seem advisable. (Granted, it's the drive back that's more usually the problem, but still. Something about being in a traffic jam just to get home seems outright unfair.)
    So I decided to walk. It's just 3 miles one way; no problem, right? Unfortunately, my feet are starting to get that broky-feet feeling that indicates that I need to get new Dr. Scholl's. But it's only a month since I got new ones. So I went to Mast General Store, where I bought these Keen boots (I swear I'm not getting paid for product placement). A few months ago, when these boots started to show wear, I had checked in and they had exact duplicates. But now, no. Remarkably, they had been recalled. The guy told me that they could get a pair in from another city by Tuesday, but had no boots today (or rather, yesterday). To his credit, though, he wasn't burning to sell me new boots. He said these looked good and if I bought the insoles Mast sells, I could probably eke out another year.
    I'll share that brand name because it's delightful: Superfeet! (No exclamation mark, unfortunately.) They're $40-$50. Doc Scholl's is an already too expensive $11-14. Yesterday, I said no. Today, I went back, tried them out and bought a pair. The guy yesterday said I could bring them back for a refund if they don't work out. I ought to know by Tuesday when the replacement boots come in, so I can make the call then. Since Dr. Scholl's only last a couple of months, or this time a month, the $50 is pretty reasonable if Superfeet really last a year. And it's certainly cheaper than new boots. My broky feet already feel markedly better. We'll see how I feel after 3 miles, Southern Culture on the Skids, and another 3 miles. Maybe I'll do some Ditch Diggin' along the way, too!