WOW #23

Cinderella

Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

No! Wait!  That’s ‘The Magic Song’ from the 1950 Disney animated feature, Cinderella.  What I wanted to talk about was

Bibliobibuli & Librocubicularist

This is a pair of pretentious, $12.50 words that even I wouldn’t use except as a blog-theme, to make fun of.  I recently stole liberated them from another bibliophile’s word-nut’s post.  He claimed that bibliobibuli was a person who reads too much.  I don’t know how anyone could read too much, as long as your regular chores are getting done.  Poor little, provincial Dictionary.Com doesn’t even recognize it.  From its apparent Latin roots, bibliobibulum would be the singular.

Librocubicularist apparently applies to a person who reads in bed.  That is something which I just don’t do.  A young man asked his girlfriend in her boudoir, if they could have sex.  She replied, “I am not prone to object.”  I do my reading sitting up, if not in the easy-chair, then at the computer monitor.

‘Getting lucky’ at my age, means getting a whole eight hours uninterrupted sleep, something my dog and my prostate generally deny me. The wife regularly reads in bed.  So much that I think I’m getting a tan from the glow of her Kindle.  It’s just that my skin is turning an odd shade of blue, instead of brown.

Early in January, I will post my yearly list of books read, for 2017. You’ll see that I have not been reading too much.  How is your reading going?  Have you been reading too much, or has life made it ‘too little?’  Do you read in bed?  Do you do it prone, or propped up with the 27 pillows that many women seem to have?

A To Z Challenge – X

april-challenge

I’m going to dip into the healing waters of medical treatment, and for the letter

Letter X

I’m going to talk about Xrays.

X-Ray

Once upon a time, Doctor Kildare, or Marcus Welby MD would hold your TV hand and solve your medical problems with a reassuring smile. More recently, Dr. House proved that a good doctor could achieve the most baffling diagnosis in a single episode.

THEN THERE’S REALITY

About a year ago, the wife developed a cough. Not a cold – a chronic, hacking cough.  After a week, she also got a sharp pain in the muscles of the bottom ribs, below her right armpit.  After another week or more, the cough was still with her, and the pain in the side got worse.  Neither of us was sleeping.

She called her doctor, and got an emergency appointment. He listened to her, (maybe) and told her to go for an X-ray.  The next day, Wednesday, I took her to the lab.  The doctor was to be faxed the results.  No call from the office on Friday, or Monday.  On Tuesday, she called the office, and the clerk told her that he had not found anything on the X-ray….and had gone on 2 weeks holidays.

The next day, the son dropped her off at the emergency ward at 8:00 AM. I didn’t get a call to pick her up, but went down after lunch to find her, and dug her out about 4:00 PM.

An eight hour stay, and, despite her telling them that the pain was in the muscles of the lower, right chest, they insisted on taking another X-ray, to check for a heart attack.  When that showed nothing, they wanted to do a CAT-scan, to check the lungs, but she’s allergic to the dyes that they’d use.

They decided, instead, to do a Gamma-ray scan.  This showed that, because of the pain, she wasn’t breathing deeply or strongly enough, and the bottom lobes of both lungs were developing fluid.  Not finding any cause for the sharp pain, they released her.

The next day, I took her to the ‘Medical Group’, for a clinic-style, first-doctor-available visit. We got a kindly, retired English doctor, recently moved to Canada, and willing to make a few bucks by filling in part-time for the likes of the one on vacation.

He actually listened to her, and quickly found the source of the pain by reaching over and palpating (touching) her, something that no doctor, nurse or technician had done. He wrote a ten-day prescription for a broad medication – something with a powerful painkiller, a muscle relaxant, and an anti-inflammatory.

He told her to take the pills, and wait another week and have yet another X-ray taken, and book an appointment to see him a couple of days later.  The pain quickly disappeared, and she (almost) stopped glowing in the dark.  When we went back to see him, he still couldn’t find anything in the results.  Of course not! It’s a soft tissue injury.

After three X-rays and a Gamma-ray scan within two weeks, it still took a British Marcus Welby-like fill-in doctor (doubly-named Dr. John Brodie-Brown), relying on his touch and intuition to solve the problem by treating the symptoms, rather than with shiny tech-toys.

A week later, I was reading the blog-post of a lady bicyclist. She wrote that she had developed the same symptoms as the wife.  A doctor diagnosed it as ‘costochondritis’, an inflammation of the nerves that control the breathing muscles.  It’s known, but not common, among people like bikers and runners, who gasp and pant for extended periods.

Even with the best of treatment, (Which very few of us ever get) it is still often up to us to diagnose our own problems, and insist that we get full and proper care.  😯

Marriage Isn’t Just A Word: It’s A Sentence

Jailbird

The wife found her husband sitting on the back
porch crying. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Do you remember when we were dating and your
father, the judge, told me that if I didn’t marry you, he
would send me to prison for 20 years?” he said.

“Yes” she responded, “so what?”

“I would have got out of prison today!” he sobbed.

***

An attorney was sitting in his office late one
night, when Satan appeared before him. The Devil
told the lawyer, ‘I have a proposition for you.
You can win every case you try, for the rest of
your life. Your clients will adore you, your
colleagues will stand in awe of you, and you will
make embarrassing sums of money. All I want in
exchange is your soul, your wife’s soul, your
children’s souls, the souls of your parents,
grandparents, and parents in law, and the souls
of all your friends and law partners.’

The lawyer thought about this for a moment, then
asked, ‘So, what’s the catch?’

***

Make it idiot-proof and someone will make a better idiot.

***

If it looks easy, it’s hard.
If it looks hard, it’s impossible.
If it looks impossible,
it’s due tomorrow. At 8 AM.

***

I want to die in my sleep like my grandfather…
Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in
his car.

***

What did the blonde say when she looked inside
the box of Cheerios?

‘Oh look, donut seeds’

***

I didn’t work my way to the top of the food chain
to eat vegetables.

***

A young couple met with their pastor to set a date for their wedding. When the pastor asked whether they preferred a contemporary or a traditional service, they opted for the contemporary.

On the big day, a major storm forced the groom to take an alternate route to the church. The streets were flooded, so he rolled up his pant legs to keep his trousers dry. When he finally reached the church, his best man rushed him into the sanctuary and up to the altar, just as the ceremony was starting.

“Pull down your pants,” the pastor whispered.

“Uh, Reverend, I’ve changed my mind,” the groom responded. “I think I would prefer the traditional service.”

*********************

😆

Flash Fiction #103

Lamb

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

INSOMNIA CURE

Late again, Johnson??!!  You’ve been warned.  You’d better have a good reason, or you’ll be collecting severance papers from HR.

Well, Sir, you know I live outside the city. I even left early this morning, but old man Morton was herding his sheep from one pasture to another, and I had to pull over so I didn’t hit any.

His flock seems to have grown, and I wondered how much, so I started counting them, 287, 288, 289, 290…. I was dreaming of a Simmons mattress – and suddenly it was 9:15.

True story or not, that one lets you stay.   😆

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

 

Pros And Cons

There have always been ways to separate the gullible from their money, but the internet has provided the pros with a method to practice their cons, quicker, easier, more anonymously, and over a much wider scope.

I resentfully awoke the other day, 2 hours before my much-needed beauty sleep normally ended, to a ringing telephone.  Sullenly answering it, I was assailed by a too-perky, recorded female voice informing me that her corporation was aware that I was paying too high an interest rate on my credit card (How?), and this was my last chance….Yadda, Yadda, Yadda!  Bottom line – pay money.

At the end of the recording, the voice said, “If you no longer wish to receive these notifications, press 2 now.”  If this was my last chance, why do I continue to receive 2 or 3 of these calls every week?  And you can push that number 2 till it falls off the phone, the wife has stabbed it dozens of times, yet the calls persist.

We used to get about the same number of calls from some Paki, who told us that he was from Microsoft, and they had noticed that we had problems with our computer (again, how?!  hundreds of millions of computers, and you noticed a problem, on mine?).  Even many users with MSN.com as their home page, didn’t recognize a Microsoft connection.

Perhaps Microsoft threatened legal action of some sort.  Now they tell you that they are from “the Word Program Department,” and if you’ll just perform their electronic voodoo, and let them take over your computer, they’ll fix it all better – right after they empty your bank accounts and max out your credit cards.

When the wife has the time and patience, she lets them babble their spiel, and then acts all confused, “because we only have Macs in the house, and we don’t use a Word program on them.”

Despite the Do Not Call List, which they can’t read in Pakistan, we continue to get calls for various duct-cleaning services.  The disabled daughter lives in a one-floor housing unit with no basement.  She recently told us how she stopped all these calls.  Quite truthfully, she told them all that her unit is heated with electric baseboard heaters – no ducts!  The wife had a chance to use that line on Sunday morning.  Feel free to try it yourself.

While I was out running a few errands the other day, the doorbell rang.  Since the wife wasn’t feeling well, she didn’t go downstairs to answer it.  When I returned home, there was a brightly-printed flyer hanging from the mailbox.  It was from the Jehovah’s Witnesses.  Apparently, if they don’t get the chance to personally beat you with a copy of The Watchtower, like a dog shitting on your lawn, they leave this crap behind.

Even worse, when I more closely examined it, I found that they have their own website, JW.com, and a QR code printed on the corner of the sheet.  You can find everything you wanted to know about the Jovies by scanning this with your Smartphone.  I learned everything I wanted to know about them from the fact that they come around, uninvited and unwanted, disturb your life, and leave shit behind.  These Children of God have become Children of the Information Age.  Thanx Internet.  😦

Early on an autumn Sunday afternoon, the doorbell rang.  Cracking the front door so that a yapping dog wouldn’t leak out, I saw a clean-looking, 20ish male, dressed in (a uniform?) a light-blue, long-sleeved cotton shirt, dark blue, neatly-creased slacks, with a black nylon lanyard around his neck.  He held up a laminated plastic ID with his picture and name (maybe), but no corporation name.

What I have to believe was a fine line of bullshit, was beautifully crafted.  “I’m from the Home Inspection Department, (Of what company, or Government level?) I’m here to check the integrity of your house. (What integrity?)  I’ll just leave my shoes out here”….and actually looked puzzled, as I closed the door on him.  Phone me, or email me, or even write me, and we’ll arrange a mutually convenient time.

Who comes around, unannounced, and unidentified, on a Sunday?  And yet, he and his patter looked and sounded so good, that I’m sure many home-owners unquestioningly opened their houses to him – and then later, wondered where the laptop or the jewelry went to.  I suppose I should have reported him to the Fraud Squad, even tried to get a picture of him, but I am not my neighbor’s keeper.  Caveat Emptor!