I got home in the afternoon on Monday, a friend brought food and I crashed to sleep early. Sol Duc is a bit surprised to be here.
Tuesday I stepped in a puddle in the laundry room and uh-oh! The utility sink had filled and overflowed, though not much. There is a pump in the laundry room that handles the water from the kitchen sink and the laundry and it died. It was working when I was here for two days in October, I think. I can’t remember hearing it on this trip. I can hear the pump from the kitchen. As soon as I saw the water, I realized that I had not heard it.
The plumber came yesterday, confirmed that the pump has died and hopefully will have a new one to install next week. I told my house that I’d like a warmer and less wet welcome home, but never mind. Things wear out, leak, break down. At least I have the money to fix it since I am working.
The photograph is from Tuesday, from the Bishop Hotel downtown, the live music from 5-7. Casey Macgill and friends and they are fabulous! I got to see friends, hear the music and dance some! Happy!
The next two times Honey feels the ants biting from the inside feeling are also on obstetrics.
Both times it is a VBAC. Vaginal birth after cesarean. The woman has has a cesarean section in the past and is trying for a vaginal birth.
Both times, Honey gets the biting ant feeling. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with the woman in labor, the nurse is relaxed, the fetal heart monitor looks ok.
With the first one it is the younger male obstetrician who is on call. He is a big man. He sits and peruses the monitor strip outside the room, taking his time. “There were some decelerations back here, but the heart rate looks fine now. Do you really want me to consult?”
Honey can’t stand still, the ants feel so bad. She tries to sound professional and calm. “Yes, this is a VBAC. I would like you to go in and meet her.” She is trying not to shoo him towards the room. He shrugs and gets up, not quite slouching towards the room, Honey trying not to jump up and down in impatience behind him.
In the room, he introduces himself. Again, Honey has not told her patient. The obstetrician says, “Dr. B. asked me to stop by since you have previously had a cesarean section, but everything looks fine.” Two minutes later she and the nurse and the obstetrician all alert as the the fetal heart rate monitor chirp slows, dropping from the 120s down to 60. THERE IT IS! thinks Honey. It stays down, they have the mother roll on her side and pop oxygen on her. It comes back up, but that is that. Off to the operating room. Again, they don’t have to do a crash cesarean. This time it is not clear what was wrong, but everything comes out well.
On the third round, it is the older male obstetrician. He looks at the strip and is calm and goes right into the room. He introduces himself and everything looks fine. Honey is wanting to dance from foot to foot from the ants. Again the fetal heart rate drops, right as the obstetrician gets up to leave the room. The nurse has the woman roll to her side and adds oxygen. The calm obstetrician gives Honey a look and has the nurse get the surgical consent. The heart rate is back up and off they go.
Honey wonders. Ants? Little voices? She knows that we all pick up information from body language and information that is not conscious. That could be a scientific explanation. Information that is not quite conscious. Honey decides that she really does not care what the ants are. When those voices speak, she listens. Who cares what it is, as long as it works.
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What is the word? “Fictionalized”, from fallible, friable memory.
The word showy makes me think of horses and the Lipizzaner horses doing their shows. I did go through a phase of reading all the Walter Farley horse books as a kid, but my sister was the one who loved to ride them. I didn’t care very much.
But here are three showmen. Jonathan Doyle, Casey MacGill and Jonathan Greene, playing at the Bishop Hotel and Bottle Shop, back on November 14th. A fabulous show!
At a clinic visit this week the Medical Assistant screens me. “Are you sexually active?”
I say, “Um, what do you mean?”
“Are you sexually active?”
“Um, I do not have a partner.” By now, I really want to laugh.
She still looks confused. “You are not sexually active.”
“Ok.” I try not to giggle. Apparently her question series does not cover um, solo sexual activity and I resist telling her about the downtown sexual health and toy store. The new multispeed, multipattern suction toys are, well, enlightening and INSPIRING and EXPLOSIVE.. Or, um, something. Snort.
Let’s just study the dome. This is from Venice and tells the story of Adam and Eve.
I have sent a message to my physician saying that they may want to rephrase the questions. “Do you have any sexual partners?” would be more enlightening as far as sexually transmitted disease risk. Heh. The whole thing cracked me up. My blood pressure was still 108 over 70. Ha, so there, heart disease. My English/Scots father’s family is adapted to tobacco and alcohol and my father ran a low blood pressure even with 55 years of unfiltered Camels in his lungs.
Heh.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: dome. This is the Basilica San Marcos, which has multiple domes. This one tells the story of Adam and Eve. I now want to paint one of my ceilings. The bathrooms have too much moisture. I suspect this will not enthuse future realtors.
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
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