It's been busy. I am scheduled for my other knee replacement in less than six weeks; had to get a new computer when the old one died (only 3 years old!); a root canal and medical probes for just about everything above my knees (one is a colonoscopy and endoscopy at the same time - I'll be a rotisserie chicken); our daughter finally returned from selection (she passed the process but she didn't get selected - we also found out that she was actually competing against SF soldiers for "operator" status for Lord knows what or where); my oldest daughter's recent wedding anniversary (nineteen years God Bless 'em), my wedding anniversary was yesterday - 32 years ... And we still got a whole bunch of birthdays coming up in the next three weeks and the shopping process for having our bathroom remodeled.
I need something to get me out of the now. Now is a pita, now is stress and IT projects and meetings and $1.5 million in new contracts to monitor and I'm limping again.
I found it.
H/T to iOTW
I need something to get me out of the now. Now is a pita, now is stress and IT projects and meetings and $1.5 million in new contracts to monitor and I'm limping again.
I found it.
Teenager takes his great-grandmother to prom
Delores Dennison never went to her high school prom.
Times were tough. Money was scarce -- just enough for the necessities.
But if she had gone to the prom, Delores might have imagined wearing a lovely dress and promenading through a sea of balloons and dancing with a handsome young man on a crisp April evening. She might have imagined the band playing the Frank Sinatra song, “How I love the kisses of Delores.”
But the days of promenades have long passed for Delores, now 89-years-old. Youth and vigor have given way to heart trouble and a stroke. And the handsome young man who became the love of her life – the man who used to sing to her that Frank Sinatra song, passed away many years ago.
But the days of promenades have long passed for Delores, now 89-years-old. Youth and vigor have given way to heart trouble and a stroke. And the handsome young man who became the love of her life – the man who used to sing to her that Frank Sinatra song, passed away many years ago.
The rest of the story here.
4 comments:
Don't get too comfy in your wistful bliss of distraction, Sig.
Back in my day, there was no knee replacement surgery: they put your banged up knee in a cast from toe to hip, let it harden in place for oh, say 6 months, and then you limp for the rest of your life, and liked it.
But back to the real world. The world where we were supposed to be loved because Obama simply said it would be so.
The real world is nothing like what we were promised during all of the hope and change crap. The real world of today is on fire, and Barry is directly responsible.
Thanks, Barry.
And for that knee, Sig, just suck down 800 mgs of Ibuprofin, and call me in the morning.
Fredd - oh ... I'm way beyond anti-inflammatories. It's been bone on bone for too long. I also just started Medicare yesterday. Waiting to see how these bills pan out. My right knee cost my insurance almost $27,000 last year (not including the rehab either). The technology is great but so is the cost. A similar operation in Europe can be about a third the cost here.
Sounds like it would have been worth an airline ticket and a week or two in a German hotel.
Fredd - if my insurance hadn't picked it up I would certainly have been polishing up my old high school German classes!
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