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Two events happen today that I'm not fond of. One has already happened. I took my weekly dosage of ten methotrexate pills early this morning, and later today at 2 o'clock I have an appointment with the rheumatologist who prescribes those pills and others to me. We don't get along well. He lies to me straight to my face. How can I trust a doctor who knowingly lies to me without any shame whatsoever?
The only decision that makes any sense statecraft-wise is to keep my mouth shut, take what drugs I think will help, and ignore the other stuff this Doctor Mengele dishes out to kill me and save the government some money. Knowing what other people are thinking even when they don't is a burden I didn't start out to take on.
This will be the third round trip in the last week I've taken to the Triangle area today. The other two trips were associated with getting my computer fixed before the warranty runs out. I could have gotten the whole thing done with one trip if I planned it out, but I don't exactly mind getting outta town occasionally. Back in the day, I did a lotta traveling, and even short trips like these remind me of all the weird, enlightening events that can happen to a stranger in a strange land.
It's been exactly a week since I impulsively bought the Apple TrackPad to replace my perfectly satisfactory Logitech Anywhere Mouse. I've already mentioned how I found out that I was wrong about the strength that it took to get this contraption to left- and right-click. I discovered in the Preferences panel that there is an option I could check to get it to do as expected, and that changed everything. "When all else fails, read the instructions."
The truth is that now it's so sensitive to my touch that I seem to be able to get it to work by barely touching it, and if one of my other fingers touches the pad unintentionally, or even comes close to touching it, something other than the desired reaction results.
It's a time thing. After a while my body will master this device, and then I won't be able to live without it. You know, like my old IBM Selectric Typewriter. I wonder what ever happened to that thing? Maybe it ended up in the same metal scrap heap my first automobile did. The Nash Ambassador, with seats that folded back into a bed. What a trial owning that car was. ! I can't say it was exactly a lemon because it was used when I got it, but Nash went outta business not long after that.
Keeping an appointment at the VA Hospital in Durham takes me all day long. I got up fairly early this morning. Mostly because I went to bed early last night. Sunday nights are notoriously bad TV viewing without cable or a Dish hookup.
If you miss an appointment with the VA they can kick you out of the regular clinics, so I'm extremely attentive to making sure that doesn't happen. Then, if they terminate your participation in a clinic the only medical attention you can get is emergency services, and that's not good.
I guess I'll leave pretty soon and stop somewhere along the way and buy some breakfast/brunch. I've already eaten some oatmeal to have something in my stomach for taking the medicine. If I take it on an empty stomach it can be really painful.
I'm always on the lookout for a clean greasy spoon with a good Western omelette or a decent club sandwich on the regular menu. Both seem to be disappearing from the cafes of America, or at least, the club sandwich is. It's a crying shame, man. What's this world coming to when you can't buy a triple-decker club sandwich?
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
