Friday, June 24, 2016

The Plagues of Davis

I think I'm glad we don't have a cow.

I checked out the plagues of Egypt and think we are experiencing them.  The first plague was blood.  OK, it was the water turning into blood, but there was certainly enough blood on Ned's finger two days ago to qualify as a plague of blood.

It's more difficult to figure out how my mother's accident jives with the plague of frogs,  I'm sure something about "croaking" would be in there somewhere.

Day 3 of the plagues is the plague of insects.

    Then God ordered Aaron to strike the dust of the earth with his staff, and no sooner did he do so than all over Egypt bugs crawled forth from the dust to cover the land. Man and beast suffered untold misery from this terrible plague.

That's kind of what happened when the garage door guy, who was here this morning to fix the garage door which had come off its hinges, found when he started to investigate.  We are rich in termites, poor only in what a hit our bank account will take in order to eradicate them.

Day 4 has something to do with livestock being infected, but I think if I toss a bit of lamb's blood on the door post we'll be OK.

Walt is meeting with termite guy next week and by God, if he tells me I need to pack up all my stuff so he can spray, I may just possibly have a first class hissy fit.

While Walt was dealing with termines, I packed up and headed to Atria, where I spent the day. She actually slept until noon and when she woke up, she was brighter than she had been the day before.  She still doesn't have a clue what happened or why her fingers are so sore and I must have explained that to her 100 times.

Her face today looks horrible, as the bruising has set in.

But actually by the time I left at 6 I could see it was looking better, though anyone seeing her for the 
first time would be appalled.  Other than being shocked at her appearance, she didn't seem to be too upset until we were going to the dining room for dinner and she saw herself again, for the first time in a couple of hours, and decided she didn't want anybody seeing her, which I certainly understood. (So I ordered a dinner to be brought to her room before I left to come home.)

Not only did she sleep until noon, but she also took about an hour and a half nap in the afternoon, so I got a lot of reading in and actually finished my book, "Broadway Tails: Heartfelt Stories of Rescued Dogs Who Became Showbiz Superstars" by Bill Berloni.  Fascinating story and there is even a sort of friend of mine in it -- Moose, who was the first traveling company Sandy for Annie.  I used to chat with Moose at Sacramento's Music Circus every night when I was driving the local "mutt" in from Davis for his brief stint in Act 1.

My mother's step son is going to stop by tomorrow and I'll be curious to see what he has to say.

Her main complaint is her fingers.  She can't get it through her head that they are sprained (and she doesn't know how she sprained them).  The big problem is that the first two fingers on each hand are very sore yet she keeps her hands clasped together, fingers interlocking.  When I give her the old line "It hurts when you do that?  DON'T DO THAT!" she will look very guilty, unlock her hands and then proceed to squeeze finger in order over and over again to see if they still hurt.

I poined out to her that yesterday, when I tried to clean her up with a wet tissue, the very touch of the tissue, without pressure, caused her to scream out in pain, so she had come a long way in a day.  But of course, she has lost the ability for cause and effect relationships and she didn't pay any attention to what I was saying.

I was drained when I came home.  I don't do anything, really, when I'm there (except today I did a load of dishes that was piled in the sink), but it is such an emotional drain on me that I just want to come home and sit, which Polly can't understand because, dogdammit, it's time for her dinner.  NOW.

I'm going back for tomorrow afternoon.  I have lunch with a friend in the morning and Ed will be there part of the morning anyway.  I'll stay until 6 again, but I think by then I can feel comfortable leaving her alone. given the progress she had made today.

* * *

Ned says tomorrow is the day he is moving my computer back into the new office.  Then my REAL work begins!

1 comment:

Lise said...

I'm so sorry about your nother's fall and the termites. On a happier note, I was just listening to an episode of the podcast "Behind he Curtain: Broadway's Living Legebda" with an interview of Jim Brochu. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was "your" Jim. It's a great interview, and I think you'd really enjoy the podcast