Auto-Infestation

 My car is kept in good condition, no remnants of food or drink or  extra materials of any kind. It just passed inspection and the engine looks clean as can be. Yesterday, on a visit to my home, my son said the air filter should be replaced. News to me. I have all maintenance performed in a timely manner whenever required. No one has mentioned replacing the air filter. 

  I would not have known that the glove box could be removed in its entirety, but evidently that's where that above-mentioned filter is located. Son went to the store, purchased a new filter, and on replacement, removed this* from whatever area exists behind the glove box. Mice, chipmunks, who knows? I have to say I'm glad they stayed put when I was driving. *

O.K.: A Lesson from Cop Cam

 Recent video uncovered instance of ongoing Romanian Organized Retail Theft Ring. They detail how it works--all are impressed. Millions of dollars scammed by whom some call gypsies. A lot of sleight of hand, partnership, and a fast getway car. Walmart is a frequent target.

Cop Cam recollections

 My job as advocate for the children of migrant workers sometimes involved driving the parents to facilities where they could access some services for their kids. We worked with the children only, but of course we could help the parents access whatever benefits were available for their children.

  One location I drove a mother to was the Social Services building in Troy. What a grim and forboding process that was. There were several agencies in that old  building, and there was usually a line of current or would-be clients waiting to gain entrance when the doors opened. The first time I saw the line of people stretching down the sidewalk, I wondered why some of the men were holding belts in their hands. I  learned that part of the entry process involved security officers inspecting the lineup and ordering that the belts be removed before entering the building. I had the thought that a removed belt would be a more serious weapon being swung around rather than being fastened around the waist, but that would have affected only those outside in line, not the employees within. On entry, the belts and other potential weaponry were to be deposited at the security sign-in and checkpoint desk. 

  At the time, post medical therapy, I needed to drink water during the day, and so that probably was the start of my carrying a water bottle in my purse. As an employee of the BOCES services, I had been issued an ID tag, to be worn around our necks if we chose to do so. I chose not to, so most of the agencies seemed to presume I was the mother or friend of their client. That was fine with me.

The first time I went through the checkpoint the security agent, checking my purse, removed my small  water bottle and secured it on the shelf behind him. "Not allowed, once an employee was assaulted with a bottle."  So I left it, knowing I would never drink out of that bottle again. Ugh.  On subsequent trips, my client, A., would take my water bottle and, being a large person, secure it against her body and thus avoid detection. No one seemed to follow up. Until one day, I overlooked it and left the bottle in my purse, so I removed it at the desk. Bozo the Guard said to put it on the table near the elevator to our second-floor destination. I still had it in my possession when he must have noticed the empty table and called security. The cop showed up and told me to "Move along." So I went out and waited in my car.  

Small Victories

 The R.N. ( or P.A. ) had difficulty finding a vein to insert the IV for a transthoracic echo so decided to use my hand, kind of as a last resort. For the first time that I can ever recall, he asked afterward if it hurt. I said it was nothing that I would consider pain. He seemed relieved, saying,  "Then we'll call that a win." His name was John and he looked a lot like James Carville.   A short conversation to be sure, but  one of the few I've had with anyone outside my house. Thus the documentation.  

So....after wordle, which takes only a few minutes, I wait for Spelling Bee, where  I can usually get to Genius with little trouble, but find Queen Bee level to take much longer. So I watch the various Cop-Cam programming and then listen to a few Dad-jokes:  ---I wish someone could tell me what IDK means, but every time I ask, they say, "I don't know."  

19 Entities

 3 Adult children, 3 spouses, 8 grandchildren, 3 dogs, 2 cats. If I were gifted in such, I could write a song. 

On my mind and in my thoughts

 I stilll have her last message to me on my answering machine, and she is calling from Samaritan where she has gone that day for whatever condition was bothering her the most at the time. She calmly states that they have given her the option of staying overnight and she says she thinks she'll take them up on it. 

  Early the next morning, everything changed. M. got a call from J. saying John was enroute. Soon after, on  that day, the dog was put down. B. was home, but arrangements were being made.And so the story goes.

  I know I'll never know what happened at the end, other than that she passed away alone, with her newly appointed "caretaker's" phone being turned off and the death notice coming to me. 

  Whatever triggered J's emergency visit I can only speculate. But I suspect it originated at her house shortly before her yet another desire to seek medical attention. I was there in her house and also present was her then-helper. I advised B. to focus on her most concerning health complaint. I had been with her at her request on several of her doctors' visits, and she generalized all of her symptoms, even saying maybe it was her nerves, or stress, offering her own suggestions to the doctor. I told her she should focus on her major issue. Good advice in her case, I'd still contend. But her "helper",  maybe not wanting to be outdone, offered her strong opinion. She told her  to tell them she wouldn't leave the hospital until they told her what was wrong with her. So I'm left to draw my own opinion as to which path B. chose. And why the emergency call to J.  B.  said she didn't remember who called him. 

When not to call 911

 I can't say I'm obsessed with the various cop-cam shows, but yes, I do watch enough of them to know that if a cop has pulled you over, it's never wise to call 911, even if you don't like how they're treating you. 

  I've never witnessed anyone calling 911 on the police, but I have been present in a hospital room where a patient did not feel ready to be discharged, so she called 911 from her hospital room to reinforce the symptoms she felt would preclude her from being discharged the next day. 

  I have been in a number of hospital rooms, but I'd  never witnessed the number of medical staff and emergency crash-cart equipment packed into a patient's room as triggered by a 911 call from that very room.Apparently she received every possible test and assessment.

 The next day, she was seated in a chair with her belongings near the door awaiting discharge. She had said she had no transportation to her home; the hospital had arranged a ride for her. 

   

The Rare Recalled Dream

 I write this only for you, Dear Blog. the only time another's dream was recalled with any interest was Elaine Bennis's dream about George Washington's false teeth. Most of the dreams I have are vivid when I wake from them, and I would expect to remember them but they wisp away like clouds. This dream has been in my mind for a few days now, so maybe writing it here will help it to evaporate.

   We bought a different house, in what appears to be a village. The house has its entrance on the side. The front of the house opens into a store, which evidently has been there for some time. The entrance and windows appear to be well established. It occurs to me we must be landlords now, and I want to ask him about that but he is not there at the time. I am out in front of the property which fronts down to a sidewalk next to a fairly busy road. A convoy of army vehicles is passing by with the regular traffic, and one of the men in a tank leans out and asks me what is the name of the plant in my front yard.  I realize he must be referring to our other home in Valley Falls as there are no plants in this yard at all. Before I can say anything, the traffic has moved along, past the house. But I notice this tank has made a right turn at the end of the quite long block. I think maybe he's going to circle the block to get my answer to his question. I walk around the side of the house so I can see if he's going to emerge in the front of the house. The property slopes up quite a distance, and fairly steep. It is cold now and there is snow on the ground. For no reason at all it seems, I fall face forward into the snow and as I lay there I think maybe this is the end of my life. But after a while, when nothing happens, I get up and decide to go back home. That is when I realize I'd left my car far away on the other entrance to the property. I despair of ever finding it, but would try.*

  * The feeling of my car being in the distance on a dark cold snowy night is reminiscent of my true-life experience from years ago at the recently opened Colonie Center. I was Christmas shopping,  by myself, as was not unusual back then. There were the 2 anchor stores, Macy's which I think was at the lower level and Sears, at the upper level. I'd parked up there as the lots were very busy then, and that was available. I paid no attention to time; at 10 p.m. the stores closed. Probably an announcement, but when I went to the upper exit, the gate was down. So I had to hurry to the lower exit to leave the mall.  The considerate managers then turned off all the outside lights, and I had to navigate the distance of the entire mall to the upper level, in the dark and cold and past a construction site on the side going up the hill to where I hoped to find my car in the dark. If I felt then that death was impending, it may have had to do with Lemuel Smith's being on the loose at the time. 

Niagara Falls August 29, 1967

 For some reason, now forgotten, we decided to visit Niagara  Falls one summer day. I drove to Dave's apartment on Massachusetts Avenue in Colonie because his car was not that roadworthy. We left early in the  morning and spent the day doing all the touristy things available on both sides of the Falls. At some point we realized we had to hurry home because I had to know  if David Janssen's Richard Kimble  would catch up with the one-armed man before Lt. Gerard caught up with him. 

   We were hurrying. Dave was driving and soon after we left the highway and turned onto Route 5(?) to Mass. Ave., Dave, looking in the rear-view mirror, said the cops were following our car. He knew that drill. We were definitely speeding, but what most likely  saved us was that we were in the inside lane, there was lots of traffic, it was dark , and Dave changed lanes. The cop had not flashed his lights because he couldn't have pulled us over from the inside lane, I suppose, and eventually he lost sight of our car. 

So we got to Dave's apartment just barely in time to see justice served and the actual killer brought to justice. And then I drove home.