"I guess the baby is"

We had an odd experience the other day at a senior housing complex. 

I know some of you don't live in America.  Because we don't have good family support, we have senior apartment complexes.  They offer amenities like a shuttle bus to the grocery store, etc. 

Anyway, we went to do a pickup and the client was all agitated.   A neighbor's car had been left running all night and she basically wanted him (the driver) to call 911. 

Why didn't she call herself?  She wouldn't say, but she said she had banged on the woman's door, didn't know the apartment number, and had banged on the manager's door all night (wanting the manager to call 911). 

It's like she felt contacting the authorities would cause her to "own" the calamity, whatever it was.  It could be something simple, someone was very tired, left the car running, got drunk and went to bed.  Good luck waking them up, no matter how you bang on their door. 

Or they could be on the floor dying of a stroke, or low blood sugar, or any number of medical catastrophes.  It's impossible to know, which is why you dial 911 the minute you realize you have a problem.

The driver tried to get dispatch to call 911, for the client, for the neighbor, but dispatch said no.  Like I asked the driver "Why didn't she call herself if she felt it was that important?"  She was not blind.  She could read the license plate and speak very clearly.  She had a friend with her, a black man, who had first noticed the problem. 

I asked the driver (later, when the old lady was gone), why the old lady didn't call.  The driver didn't know.  I asked him why the man didn't call.  The driver didn't know, but theorized that, because the man was black, he might have been "locked up until they sorted it out".  A medical problem?  Doubtful. 

The driver was pretty upset about the whole thing and I believe he eventually called 911 on his own. 

Today was not quite as high-stakes but also interesting. 

I went to bed late last night, foolishly forgetting I had to get up at 5:30 this morning.  When 5:30 rolled around, I reprogrammed my alarm clock to 6:30 and got up then.  I didn't even take a shower, I was just going to Walmart.  I did brush my hair and apply fresh deodorant, though. 

We went, I left Ron up front, and got everything I needed.  I bought myself some acne soap, I still have pretty oily skin although I don't get pimples anymore.  My dad has oily skin in his 70's, which is great because moist skin doesn't wrinkle very much.  I can look forward to that. 

Ron has a nice set of laugh lines, and I like to think I helped put them there. 

I also got Ron some extra strength psoriasis shampoo.  I was delighted to see Walmart carried it, I had to hunt for about 5 minutes, but Ron's been having some flares and he needs it.  He used up his old bottle.  I got some candy for Ron's future nurses, and toilet bowl cleaner for the house.  Salty snacks, and 30 cans of cat food. 

I probably could have used another box of protein bars, but I got distracted looking for vanilla casein (not available at my Walmart, but I can get that from Bodybuilding.com).  Anyway, I'm not going to beat myself up.  I'm sure we will go back to Walmart at least once, before Ron's surgery. 

We came home, pretty uneventful. 

I took a shower and then a nap.  I left the fan running while I napped. 

I had a hard time dropping off.  For some reason I just can't find that magic spot.  Is it left side, right side?  Leg bent?  Foot flexed? 

When I wake up I always tell myself to remember how I slept, but I always move before I remember. 

I finally dropped off but it took a while because I didn't have any cats.  I love a cat in the bed, or even 2 (Biscuit and Torbie). 

Ron's alarm woke me up.  I forgot he had made a trip to get fast food.  We went. 

I was particularly peeved to find a young family sitting at the "handicapped" table, the one that has an image of a person in a wheelchair.  We needed that table, both for the positioning and for the view of the parking lot.  I have to see our ride, so I can catch it! 

The father was dressed like a young preppie, loafers and khakis.  The baby was dressed in some kind of designer thing, and playing on a tablet.  The mother was wearing slacks and a see-through white blouse over a black bra. 

"Why not just wear the bra?" I asked Ron after they left.  "You can see it anyway, why pretend to be modest and wear the blouse?   Hasn't she heard of a camisole?" 

I came very close to confronting them.  It would have gone like this.  I walk up to the table. 

"I'm so sorry about your baby!"
 
What about our baby? 

"Well, you're sitting at the handicapped table.  Since you and your wife are not handicapped I guess the baby is.  Poor thing!" 

Ron says I probably would have got my ass kicked.  It wouldn't have ended with them moving or leaving, that's for sure, so I decided to leave it alone, even though they were sitting at the clearly-marked handicapped table and I had a blind man in a wheelchair.

"Don't let it ruin [date night]" Ron asked.  I didn't let it ruin our night. 

Ron reminded me, aptly, that as we get farther into the end times people will become more and more selfish, more and more hateful, so I had better expect all this and worse as time goes by. 

He talked about Jesus to our return driver, who was not interested.  We have a couple of codes.  When I tell Ron "42" it means there is a suspicious person around.  I need another number code for "This person is wanting to rip our your tongue and shut you up".  Although, he probably wouldn't listen. 

It almost rained on the way home but it didn't.  It is raining now. 

When we got home (I had taken my evening meds with dinner) I tried to take another nap.  I need all the sleep I can get! 

It's like getting ready for a baby, almost. 

Anyway, I laid down.  Torbie and Biscuit joined me but I could. not. sleep.  I was so sad about that because I would have loved to sleep with them. 

I got up and did my God time, then got on the computer.  [sigh] 

We have tomorrow off "No trips today" to quote the computer, so it should be a nice day off.