For my records

 Am writing just so I can keep track of the "process."  

 I have routine annual screenings for ongoing surveillance.

 At 7-30-2020 office visit, provider issued a script for the next year's (2021)  screening, with follow up office visit on August 4, 2021. 

   I know I have to wait at least a year from previous screening, which was May 28, 2020.  So, any time after  May 28, 2021. 

  An unexpected issue arose, and I had a diagnostic ultrasound on August 3, 2020, with welcome results of no concerns. Though I have always before gone to St. Peter's in Albany, for this procedure I went to The Troy location. I was assured that all previous records are in the new system.  

 The doctor had sent me the script so I could make my own appointment, at location I  chose. 

 So, I waited past May 28 and called Troy office to make my appointment. 

  I was told I had to wait until after the date of my diagnostic US, or else it would not be covered by insurance. (I knew this wasn't true as annual screenings are fully covered; the US was a different matter. But I said nothing: I'm not in charge.)

  I waited until after the US date of August 3, and called again. Meantime, I'd cancelled my August 4 office visit at provider's office. Nothing to follow up on as yet.

  I called again to schedule and was told they cannot schedule until they have the script. She provided the fax number. I tried to fax, over the next several days, to no avail. The scheduler said I was the only one whose fax didn't come through, but she would request it from my provider's office and would call me to let me know when  it was received. That call never came, so I called provider's office to ask if they'd been able to send fax.  Rep there said she'd  send the script, even checking to say it was in the queue. After waiting a few days, I called Troy office again. They had not yet received it. Their fax was evidently not received either. I took cold comfort in knowing I was not the only failure.

I called the provider's office and she said they would refax the old (by now) script. And she told me the only approved way was by fax, no other method.

 Upon receipt, the Troy office said the script had expired on July 31,  a year from the date it was written. Remember, I'd been told I had to wait until a year after the August 3 US date.

 I finally brought the newly sent script in to the Troy office; they had assured me what I'd been told about fax-only was incorrect. All would seem to be in order, but  when I handed  my script to the scheduler, she uttered the devastating news---the CODE was wrong. 

So, to make a long story mercifully less long, I called my provider's office, delivered the latest news: The  Horror!  Eventually, provider's office sent a new, corrected script to the Troy office; 

I was able to schedule my appointment, and all ended happily.  

Note: I have not re-scheduled my F.U. visit, but I don't think he will mind. He will have received the results, and we'll just wait til next year, if that's to be.

  

Hair There

 So Chip Gaines has shorn off his long, rather lank, hair. But never fear, he will donate his locks to a charitable cause. It reminds me of when my sister and I were in the hair market and, over a period of years, were discussing and researching replacement options. The consensus among the fitters and beauticians was that human hair is rarely used anymore, that the new developments in wig-making relied on artificial hair as being far superior to real human hair. But if it makes donors feel good to do so, human hair will be accepted, but used, probably not.

It's hard to get good help.

 I ordered a pair of sandals from Merrell's  website, quite pricey for me, but I was in dire need. They arrived in good time, and I liked them but did not fit my feet, well, one foot anyway.  So I returned them, using the Fed Ex label  that Merrell sent me. I dropped the package off at the designated site, Walgreen's in Schaghticoke on July 7. Tracking showed the package was picked up by Fed Ex the next day and was delivered to their site in Rensselaer, pending further delivery. I continued to track the  return package, but all info stopped at July 8 in Rensselaer. I requested updates from Fed Ex, and nothing after July 8.  Further  requests just repeated  the same tracking information.  So I took advantage of Fed Ex's Virtual Assistant, who could only say the package was in Rensselaer on July 8 and was awaiting further delivery. I tried that approach several times with the same result. The other option was to contact a LIVE representative. So I finally got to speak to one---they're very busy. I related my tale and she put me on hold while she checked. Of course I had the tracking number and also the order number and the date and place where I had dropped off the return. After a time, she came back to the phone and informed me:  The package was received  on July 7, reached Rensselaer on July 8 and is in the process of awaiting further delivery. That's it. 

 When I contacted Merrell about my dilemma, the rep there checked and instantly said they would issue my refund. Whether they ever collect from Fed Ex or not is not my concern. I suspect that somewhere in the Rensselaer area, a Fed Ex employee, maybe relegated to working  at home,  is walking around in a pair of $60 sandals.

One for the Road

   When Greg visited to say goodbye before leaving for college, I reminded him I still had in the fridge some of the sodas meant for the grandsons, such as Dr. Pepper Cream Soda. As he was leaving, he went to the kitchen and said, "I'll take one for the road." In my present mode of sentimentality, my mind spun back to a time when, still a babe in his father's arms, and an early talker, he was at Madigan's and knowing that Uncle Joe always kept a stash of candy, made this very remark as his father prepared to leave. Rosemary got the biggest kick out of that. It's possible she had never heard him talk before. 

Irish Relatives

 Before the history is lost to eternity, and through the depths of my memory, William Donovan was the brother of my mother, and Helen, Matt, Timothy, Marguerite's father.*They settled in Troy. Can you imagine  how many descendants there must be of those pictured, and mostly male. I assume some may be employees, but all those kids would seem to be relatives.  I'd say all the Donovan's in these parts are related. 

* The brother of my mother's (and siblings) father would be their uncle.

To-Do List

   Today I accomplished a monumental task. I cleaned the filters on the air  conditioners. First step is to locate the panel which encloses the filter. Then, open the panel and remove the filter. Attempt to vacuum it with the B&D Handivac. When that doesn't work, retreat to the sink and clean and wash with toothbrush.  Dry off, and then re-insert filter, replacing panel.  Phew!  And did I mention I did this for TWO air conditioners.

On the Lighter side

     Way back when Ma first took in her foster children, she had to call their social worker  for some ordinary reason. The person who answered the phone there said the  social worker was not available, as she was out in the field.  My mother, perplexed,  related  this conversation to me and asked, "What the heck does that  mean, that she was out in  the field?"  To Ma, being in the field meant one thing and she couldn't see that social worker digging beets or picking corn.

Letter of Resignation

 

Montecore and BOO~

 Once upon a time Siegfried and Roy performed with a tiger named Montecore; the tiger was a wild animal at heart, but tamed and raised and fed and maybe even loved by the magician. Montecore accepted the food and care and attention and thrived on it, and seemingly was content to obey the orders of  Siegfried, his trainer and leader. Until, one day, on stage, tiger and trainer had a falling-out or some difference of opinion as to what would happen  on stage that day, and the tiger, way more massive  than his trainer, turned on him, bit him, and dragged him off stage, perhaps or presumably to kill and devour him, or at least to sate its appetite. The tiger didn't really love or trust its titular leader; the animal just used the relationship to advance its own purposes, until the time came for it to reveal its true identity and nature.

  Why did former President Trump's own assemblage of his loyal followers address his comments with Boos the other day; compare it to the actions of the beast.  The crowd, devoted as he assumed they were, his people, turned on him when they disagreed with what was a pillar of their movement. A few words outside their cartridge of hate and rhetoric and they let him know their anger. Their rancor and hatred and animosity derive from elsewhere than Trump. He is only the figurehead for their policy, the public face  of a movement meant to spread hatred and violence and  dissension. Like the tiger, they accepted the feeding and the platform to enhance their own intentions, but they needed or used him only for that. The time will come when they no longer need him at all, and it will be to his own benefit if he realizes that before he is totally consumed by that which he thought he controlled.

Charles Anthony Madigan

 August 21, 1894 -- January 20,1966

Shudder, Shudder...

 

Real or Allegory?

 I'm so bored with routine shows that I happened onto CNBC where some hyped-up financial analyst was referencing some genius guy named Jensen who was able to grow grass on his walls and gave his dog a lifetime pass. Or maybe I'm delusional from the ongoing effects of a  bee sting.

Doe, A Deer and other Nature Ballads

    Saw this doe today, under the crabapple tree. She looks maybe too young to  be the twins' mother, and she bounded across the road and up the hill.  Maybe I should post a warning sign, other deer have been hit in that very spot.***While outside with camera, I snapped pics of soon-to-be gone flowers. And the hydrangea bush which is just in bloom. But not before a bee stung me right through my capri pants. It didn't activate until I was inside; I tried to smash it, but it got away. I hope it's the type that can only sting once. And then die.

The spot is quite red, but nothing like Danny's excoriated shin.

Cat test was testing ScanDisc, as per Danny

 

Too cryptic---read it

 "The  Piece of String"  Guy de Maupassant 

 or for even more existentialism, read Albert Camus' "The Stranger."

Personal Opinion

 I'm sick of her already. And her features are too large for her face.

No, August is...

 The Wasteland, T.S. Eliot

      "April is the cruelest month, Breeding lilacs out of the dead land, Mixing memory and desire, Stirring dull roots with spring rain."

      The dark irony being that nothing can be crueler than hope. But at least there was that. I believe August is the cruelest month. The hope of new beginnings has been realized, is at its height, and can only die.

       

     

Solo Dahlia from Schenevus

  We were given some dahlia bulbs some years ago, and for a number of years they bloomed profusely; they looked almost like fully laden rosebushes, quite an eyecatching sight near the mailbox. Then  for several years, they produced almost no flowers, despite attempts to offer them feed and even to replant them. But still the plants appeared healthy and we dutifully dug them up in the fall, wrapped them, and stored them in the basement until planting season. Until last year---when a surprise deep snowstorm buried them before they could be dug out.  But this year I found a few overlooked  bulbs in the storage box and stuck them in flower pots. So I have one red dahlia already. they usually didn't flower until close to September. There would most likely have been more if the dangblasted creature that ate my morning glory plants hadn't chewed off the tops of the dahlias.

Morning Glory Predator

    I'd saved some morning glory seeds and tried planting them beneath my kitchen window. Somewhat to  my surprise, they grew and I surrounded them with a tomato cage so the vines would have support. Pretty purple blooms appeared, and I'd look out at them every morning. Until today---something stripped all the foliage. I suspect woodchucks. 

Volunteer Petunia

 I meant to plant some petunia seeds this year, or at least buy some. But time got away from me and that didn't happen.  I spied this today, a lone petunia, in my favorite color, growing through the blacktop driveway beneath the ramp. I have no idea where it came from or how it managed to bloom. But if I had a plastic cup to put over it and a video camera, it may have been the subject of  a tv commercial.

Winding Down Everywhere

 There is the oddest little flying creature on the phlox, in last 2 pictures.   It hangs in place like a hummingbird, but does not seem to have a bird beak.  But it moves so fast I can hardly see it. And

it's colorful.  N.B. Update:   Research tells me this is a Hummingbird Moth.

August

    He has been away since August 2017. That is 48 months, or over 1,440 days, since he has been in his own house and said the words, Good Morning.