Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts

jane bought me a new john deere tractor.

today dad had an appointment with the memory clicic at vanderbilt to address the recent concerns with his parkinson's disease.  i met mom and dad early, so i could go with them and my brother.  {that was the plan at least, then my brother bailed.  he had to work or something.  loser.  and it is his birthday too.  you are really not a loser, bubba --- if you are reading this, i think you are rather grand...i even wrote a blog about you once called bubba.  the proof is in the pudding.}

long story short (when has THAT ever happened?), after a very thorough exam starting with simple questions like "can you spell 'world' backwards, mr. morrison?" (i didn't make eye contact, because i was sitting there thinking D...L...uh....) "mr. morrison, what is 100 minus 7?"  then "what is 93 minus 7?"  again, i looked at the floor, because i know the answer but it might take me a second.  they asked him to write a sentence, any sentence.

"jane bought me a new john deere tractor."  
was his sentence.  that's when i wanted to throw my hands back and start singing, "thank god, i'm a country boy." i resisted simply for fear they might ask me what 93 minus 7 was and then ask me to spell 'world' backwards.  but i love that sentence.  it is my favorite sentence ever.  

then we saw the doctor; well the senior resident.  his name was dr. charles clarke.  he is from west virginia.  he is a country boy. he got his undergrad at west virginia, then went to ohio state.  he does not like the vols.  he married his high school sweetheart. he does like tennessee, he likes the weather.  his dad has a john deere tractor that cost $20,000 to mow the grass.  when his dad bought it he said, "are you crazy?"  he knows what bush hogging is, because he is from the country.  with the exception of his social security number and his wife's name - mom covered all her basis.  she got his history.  

and he thought this meeting was about dad. bet he was tired after an hour with us. i was tired after an hour with us.  

then, dr. brian thompson came in and met with us along with dr clarke.  two doctors for the price of one, i call that a good deal. he used me as the bunt of his jokes several times, and i politely laughed because i am polite.  and i didn't want to kick him in the shins because i might get in trouble and it would have interfered with mom getting all his information.  

dr. thompson did not marry a tennessee girl, he married a red headed girl from alabama where he was six years previous to his move to tennessee in 1992.  she still loves him and is with him.  you go, red headed gal from alabama.  then he used several very large doctor words speaking to his co-hort and mom let it go at that.  at least we know he is married to a red head.  mom did get the opportunity to tell him that when she met dad her hair was blonde and that she likes my hair better blonde.  he laughed and said "and look what he's [dad] done to you."  she has a full head of lovely grey hair now.  

when it was all said and done and after we [mom] got their histories, they came to the conclusion that with the last two 'spells' that dad has had where he has fallen and then a rapid memory decline are bouts of delusion - triggered by something being off in his body - B12, infections, urinary tract infection, pretty much anything.  because he has parkinson's and is older he can not recover from a setback like a fall or being sick like a healthy person without parkinson's disease can.  it takes him longer to recover.  he said there is a small amount of dementia going on, but no signs show that he is in the beginning sages of alzheimer's. so, over all - it was a good report.  he will go back in a month or so for a full day of memory work and they will test him on all sorts of different activities - to see what part of his brain is being mostly affected and then they can measure the decline or steadiness of dad's brain.  

does your brain hurt now?  mine does.  

1.  after that we looked like the three blind mice trying to get out of the maze of vanderbilt.  i was the leader, that might have been the first problem.  

2.  mom said, "roy, put your cane down."  [dad uses  -carries-  a cane now when he walks, except he carries it and doesn't use it.  helpful.]

3.  dad noticed the back tire was low on their van, and said, "jane, i don't think we can make it home on that."

4.  "roy, USE your cane."

5.  i said, "well, we have to get out of the parking garage, so we can't just stand here and look at it."  now that's some intelligence.

6.  we went and put air in the tire.  dad got out cane and all and supervised his youngest [me] putting air in the tire.  mom supervised dad and myself.  i had a short white skirt on and was squatting, i think i might have gotten hit by the cane a time or two while i was down there.  

7.  "dad, put your cane down!"

8.  the air conditioner is broken in mom's van.  and only one window rolls down.  it was 95 degrees outside and 195 degrees inside the van.  i was in the back with no ventilation.  good thing we were so close to vanderbilt.  for i liked to have died.

9.  the doctors referred to parkinson's disease as 'parkie' like it was their buddy.  kinda guess it is, after all, they are neurologist.  "yeah, that is parkie for ya."  and then they snicker.  

10.  my mom wanted my purse.  she tried to take it.  i tried to give it to her.

11.  i tried to explain twitter to mom.  it ended with me saying, 'nevermind.'  and her thinking, 'kids, these days.'

and that's the latest.  and seriously, thanks everyone for keeping dad in your thoughts and prayers.  it is much appreciated.  after all, parkie's no joke. 

ticketmaster alert.

lately, i feel like my head is a collection of mush.  brain has been replaced by mush.  i am hoping soon, we (the brain and i) get back together and decide to become reacquainted because i am starting to miss feeling halfway intelligent.

i also think when you spend most of your days with children less than five, this becomes a reality.  saying your ABC's and singing ridiculously silly songs "to make the baby smile" make you loose brain cells.

math, fuuuugetaboutit.

science, huh?

but twinkle, twinkle...i got that.  hand motions and all.

tonight, i got a ticketmaster alert that one of my favorites were coming to town.

"oh, could it be?  perhaps it is she and him, the national, OH RAY (ray lamontagne) i already knew about you, MICHAEL BOLTON?"  

after all, i AM nashville.  i AM in the know.

and 


I DO

get twitter updates and emails from US weekly.  let's be honest, the brain may be mush, but it's not for lack of trying.

back to the original story.

was there an original story?

an original point?

am i original?

i wanna be original.

unique maybe.

i go the email update from ticketmaster, saying 'check it out one of your favorites is coming to nashville.'  

it was 

the wiggles?  yes, the australian all male singing groups that wear the colorful shirts.
please don't make me name them, because i can.  don't try me.

i am a never married, without children, grown adult living in the fabulous city of nashville - with some awesomeness going on in the musical genre every night

and

i get an update that i need to hurry and get my tickets, BEFORE THEY ARE GONE, to the wiggles.

i digress.

one of the little fellas is even scared of them.

can't say i blame the guy.

my brain is mush and for that i am sorry,
jessica

dead dog farm (lookout girl edition)

before you go any further, read this:


done?

recently on another of our los angeles jaunts, this was on the to do list.  i think it rang in at number six or seven.  as you were reading his blog, did you notice the sheer thrill of the chase, the organization of the filming location complete with google maps, and the excitement of the find?  if you missed that part, trust me, it exists.  organized and with it, he is when it comes to filming sites.  

but what he forgot to include in the story was...

hello.  the lookout girl!  

every good mystery has the lookout girl.  and this responsibility fell into my hands this day.  (hold your applause, i am getting quite used to it.)

before he got out of the car, he told me if i saw any police to text him immediately.  we were in the middle of no. where.  that. was.  not.  going.  to.  happen.  but.  okay.  

as i looked out for the cops, i looked at my toes too and decided what my next choise of color would be for my next pedicure.  i decided it would be 'you make me vroom' by OPI.  i thought about where we should eat dinner and how thirsty i currently was, i thought about what normal people do when they visit L.A., i tweeted five times, i took this picture with my phone (i am still looking out for the po-lice mind you...)
and then posted it to facebook with the caption "bet you can't guess where i am..."  and i knew the tons of fans on my facebook page would not be able to guess, since i had no idea myself.  

the good (good?) thing about him, is he knows that i am very easily entertained and and easy, so he pushes my 'very easily entertained and easy button' quite frequently.  i never notice.  what i notice are cops, PO-LICE...and i might be doing thirteen other things but i am still looking out for them IN THIS DESERTED PARKING LOT.  I GOT THIS.

about five minutes into his trek, i received this text message:
as i was laughing that i had just received a real text that had the word cowboy in it...literally laughing, probably slapping the knee...out of the clear blue sky rolls a sheriff all slow like - right beside the car.  the car i am in being the lookout girl! (i waved at him all southern like and gave him a nod of the head for bonus, we are not doing anything wrong points.)

sheriff like less than one minute away from boy that girl was suppose to be looking out.  as quick as my fingers could type/text. i wrote 'sheriff driving back there.'  notice the two I's along with the two F's.  

i am congruent like that.

and because i am the calm to his storm, i instantly sent him the follow up text which should have said (provided i knew how to spell), 'but you are fine if cowboys talked to you i am sure.  no stress.'  i really just wanted to use cowboy in a text like him.

after an elevated blood pressure for about two minutes, i saw him come walking (as opposed to riding in the back of the sheriffs car) around the bend, camera in hand and a satisfied look on his face.

success.

he got what he needed.

and i...
tweeted.
facebooked.
thought about dinner.
and how thirsty i was.
decided on my new polish color.
successfully contacted him upon contact with the law.
and 
thought about what normal people do when they visit L.A.

the end.



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