Griping

Living with Grandmother is an experience, let me tell you. She always wants something to do, or to go to the bathroom, or to have something to eat, or to pick up every pen in the house. Yesterday, when Mom got home, Grandmother was in a panic. She didn't know where she was, whose house she was in, and was afraid she was going to be arrested to being in someone's house. Mom told her that it was our house, and Grandmother referred to her as her friend. When mom said she was Grandmother's daughter, she was surprised. However, this morning, she called me by name. Wandered into the living room, then came back into my room and said, "I thought I was all alone here.

Alzheimer's is so much fun.

Well, the leg is getting better. I'm able to walk without the crutches, wearing the boot, of course. The problem is that I walk like a bad John Wayne impersonator: leaning forward, elbows bent, fists clenched, and like I'm walking downhill.

It still swells up while I'm at work. I should keep it elevated, but if I did that the boss might think I'm lazy. Well, actually, she does, but sitting around with my leg on the desk might just cement the impression that I'm lazy. Since I don't want to leave her with that impression, I don't put the foot up at work. When I get home, it looks like an eggplant with Vienna sausages on one end.

Good night! I'm here all week!

The entellus Dillemma

Today I updated the "Collected Writings" page. I finally found the Star Trek fanzine that published "The Entellus Dilemma." I scanned the pages, and spent two days editing it to make it readable. I would say, "Enjoy," but it's really bad. That story basically violated every Star Trek writing rule, and didn't use the supporting characters very well.

A Lesson in Medical Terminology

I arrived at the hospital at 7:30 am, as instructed, without anything to eat or drink since before midnight. I registered at the front desk, then hobbled back, down a 75 yard long hallway, to Outpatient Surgery. After six weeks on crutches, I still can't catch my breath when I walk long distances. I wondered aloud why they force you to use a wheelchair when you leave, but don't bother when you arrive.

When I got to outpatient surgery, the nurse told me to change into the hospital robe, and said she'd be right back. Twenty minutes later, she came in and took my medical history. Then she compared it to the rather lengthy form I filled out the night before to make sure I hadn't changed any of my answers. She gathered up the forms and said she'd be right back.

Thirty minutes later, I opened an old copy of Reader's Digest and had only read about six pages when the nurse came in and tried to start an IV. After much cursing and slapping of my veins, she called in reinforcements. They finally managed to get the IV in at 8:45 am. (Apparently, my veins are, like me, deep.)

At 9 am, they told me that they were ready for me upstairs, and asked if I needed to go to the bathroom. I said no. My surgery was scheduled for 9:30, after all and was supposed to take only about 30 minutes. So down the hallway we went to pre-op. The orderly who pushed my gurney and me into pre-op was named Jeffrey, too. But when people greeted us in the halls with, "Hi, Jeff!" I wondered how so many of these people knew my name. And this was before the drugs.

In pre-op, a nurse who looked like my mom's youngest sister, Delores, greeted me in a voice that was a dead ringer for my aunt's. "Hi, Jeff! How are you today?"

For a couple of minutes, I wondered how Delores got here from Hobbs, New Mexico, and why she would come just to see me when the screws were taken out. Then I realized she wouldn't come just for that, and I remembered that Jeffrey was the orderly.

As soon as I was in the pre-op area, a nurse came along to get my medical history, and compared it with the two previous forms just in case I'd developed something in the elevator. Then, she left me alone, while she chatted with the two other nurses on duty.

The nurse who looked like my aunt was from Amarillo, and had that West Texas twang my aunt had, so I spent the next hour remembering that she wasn't Delores.

That's right. An hour and a half. Laying there on a gurney with nothing to read. I finally flagged down Delores and said I needed to pee and that I couldn't walk. She brought me the necessary equipment and draining my bladder killed a couple of minutes. Then the first nurse said, "I don't know why they brought you up here so early," as she handed me a magazine. I got to page six, when the OR nurses came to wheel me into surgery.

The anesthesiologist came in, and made sure I hadn't had a surgery since I arrived that morning, while on of the nurses wrote on a dry erase board on the wall "10:27." Then I got my happy juice and was out like a light.

They woke me up at 11:30, and rolled me back into Outpatient Surgery. They let me dress and by 12:30 pm, Jeffrey wheeled me out to the car in a wheel chair. I did ask him where he was when I got there this morning.

So here's the lesson in medical terminology: "right back" and "ready for you" mean "in an hour or so." Plan your next hospital trip accordingly.

Wish Me Luck

This morning I put my unlucky sandals up on eBay. Other people have sold sillier items for more $$, so I figure, "What the heck!" And, since I'm tired of begging you people to donate to me, now you can actually buy something from me! Or, alternatively, you can help me out by spreading the word! Tell everyone you know about the auction, especially those folks that are super generous.

You asked for it. . .

Donn and Ann H., accompanied by Ann T. (henceforth known as Donn and Ann², pronounced, "Donn and Ann Squared"), came for a brief visit on Thursday. For the second time in as many weeks, relatives have stopped by and wanted to take us out to dinner. I was invited but my answer, both times, was "Hell, no!" Normally, I would have jumped at an offer of free food, but after a day at work, hobbling around on the crutches, I'm exhausted and really only want to sit and have a beer or two with the boot off and my foot elevated.

As Donn and Ann² were leaving, Ann H. said she would visit my site to read the humorous account of how I broke my leg. So, I guess I'd better write it.

The Story

After a Mickey D's drive thru breakfast, I met Larry and Jym at the golf course at 8:30 Sunday morning. We walked through the dewy grass to the tee box and waited for a foursome to get on the green before we teed off.

The first hole it a 382 yard Par 4. It's pretty much a straight shot from tee box to green. The fairway is flanked by two 6-7 foot tall swells that run about 50 yards to a depression in front of the green about 10 feet below the green, and an oak tree to the right of the green. My tee shot sliced across the golf cart and into the trees lining the 9th fairway, about 125-150 yards. Larry wound up in a stand of trees on the left of the fairway on top of the tall hill. Jym landed in the middle of the fairway, with a perfect approach to the green.

I found my ball and decided to try a punch shot through the trees and back into the first fairway. Naturally, I flubbed the shot, and dribbled it about twenty yards foreward. Jym's shot landed on the green, and Larry. . .well, let's just say Larry need a machete to get to his ball. My third shot landed at the base of the green, behind, of course, the tree. Larry's third shot blasted from the trees and sailed clear across the green. Fortunately, Larry was in the Navy and had a good supply of descriptive phrases.

My fourth shot almost sailed over the green to land in the rough. Larry and I chipped up onto the green, me lying 6 and Larry lying 5. We both two putted. Jym, though had parred the hole.

The second hole is a 340 par 4. You have to shoot over a creek, across a creek and down to a broad, almost treeless, little plain that seems incredibly far away. Jym dropped his ball
into the fairway 100 yards or so from the green. Larry hooked his shot into the only thick stand of trees on the hole, near a seasonal creek bed. Normally, on this hole, I put my ball to the right of the fairway between two small (about 6' tall) trees. This time, though, I landed in the fairway, 175 yards from the pin! Larry's second shot dropped into another cluster of cedar trees to the left of the hole, perilously close to the seasonal creek full of rocks. As the creek approached the cart path, the banks have been covered with cement, and there is always a small pool of water right beside the bridge that goes to the green. Jym's second shot dropped just short of the green, close enough to put. I lined up my shot, and hit the ball. It arched into the air and started to descend into thepool of water near the bridge! Dammit! Fortunatly, though, the ball landed on the other side of the creek, bounced off the concrete bank and landed on the green 10 yards from the hole! Praise Jebus!

Jym and I waited for Larry to pitch his way to the green from amongst the shrubbery. Jym chipped his third shot onto the green only inches from the cup. Jym parred, and I two-putted for par. Larry wound up with a 5.

Glowing with pride at how well my game was going, we went to the third tee box, where the foursome before us let us play through.

The third hole is a 475 yard par 5 that I have never parred. From the tee both, you shot across a creek and on top of a bluff at least 40 feet high. Oak trees line the bluff, except for a 30-40 yard gap indicating the fairway. My success rate getting onto the fairway is 60-40%, and 9 time out 10, if I clear the bluff, I slice into the oak trees and windup losing my ball anyway. This was one of those 9 times. From the tee box it appeared as if the ball landed behind the oak trees, perhaps on the fairway of the 5th hole. Jym landed in the fairway again, and Larry sliced into a thin stand of trees beside the cart path.

Naturally, I couldn't find my ball once we got on top of the bluff. I walked up a slicht incline onto the 5th fairway and looked, but couldn't see it. I turned and started back down. My left foot slipped in the dew, and my right toe caught in the grass. I fell foreward and heard the sound of a branch breaking, and screamed as I landed on my face and rolled down the little incline.

I thought, "I broke my fucking ankle!"

Short story made far too long, an ambulance came and picked me up and I spent the next two days in the hospital. I never did get a refund for the 16 unplayed holes. Larry and Jym finished the round and each broke 100. The bastards.

Update!

Since everyone is curious about my ankle, here's the update:

The pain is mostly gone, though I do get some twinges every now and again. However, the selling hasn't gone down much. My toes look like Vienna Sausages, and my foot looks like a baloon.

Next Thursday I'm scheduled to have the screws removed. I don't know if I'll be able to walk or not, but with Oktoberfest around the corner, I hope so.

The idiots at The History Channel

I have been off work for about 15 days now, counting Sundays. One of the surest signs that it's time to go back to work, at least for me, is to dream about it. And last night, I did.

I dreamt I had a dozen voicemails. So, Dr. Freud, what do you think?

It's about time to go back to work. the History Channel has stopped their coverage of World War II and have spent the last couple of days exploring the Bible and prophets like Nostradamus. No doubt a reaction to Hurricane Katrina.

OW!!

I am firmly convinced that orthopedic surgeons love inflicting pain.

I had the staples from my surgery removed yesterday, and it fel like the nurse was pulling 20 hairs on either side of my leg. That took a while to disappear. Then they brought out "The Boot." A steel and nylon contraption, the boot is much lighter than the splint. however, in an effort to get my foot to nuetral, or 90 degrees to the leg, they have to keep pushing up on the ball of my foot. If feels like my toe is touching my nose.

On the 22nd, they will remove the two horizontal screws, and I might be able to walk again! on the upside, I'll get one of those "I have an implant" cards for the airport screeners.

i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this i hate this

So last night, at midnight or so, I woke up and realized that I needed to pee. I turned on the lamp beside my bed, scrambled erect with the aid of the crutches, and headed for the bathroom. I appoached the step up into the dining room/Grnadmother's room. I thought I was close enough to try to make it.

The ball of my left foot catches the edges of the step, just under my big toe. My lower body stopped moving. However, my upper body continued to move forward. I fell with a clatter onto the floor hitting my right knee.

"FUCK!" I shouted demurely. "I need some help!" I shouted into the darkness. While Mom and Dad woke up enough to help, I scooted back where I could grab the grab bar next to the door that we installed for Dad last summer. I grabbed hold, and as Mom helped, got back to my feet, or foot, as the case may be. I made my way into the bathroom, my confidence completely shaken. My foot throbbed as I finished my business. As I hopped back to bed, I noticed spots on the floor. my foot was bleeding. I got Mom to bandage it up, all the while I muttered "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this."

This morning, I have a bruise on my knee, a sensitive left toe, and no desire to sit in a recliner any longer.

I hate this.

A premonition?

Have you ever woken up and said to yourself, "something is gonna happen today?"

Me neither.

A week ago at this time I was in the emergency room with a broken ankle. I had been playing golf with a couple of friends. I double bogeyed the first hole, and parred the second hole. On the third hole, while walking down a grassy slope, my shoes slipped, and my right toe caught in the grass. I fell forward and heard a loud SNAP.

So, for the last seven days, I have been sitting on my ass, and going out of my mind. I have been using my vacation time to let my ankle heal. I have enough money in savings to take another week off. After that, I have to start working again.

Shiner 96 unveiling at Oktoberfest

For the last few years, I have volunteered at Oktoberfest in Fredericksburg, Texas as a beer supervisor. (Seems kind of like putting the fox in charge of the chicken coop if you ask me, but the beer's free.) part of the fun of being "on the inside" is learning what beers are going to be on tap.

This year, for the first time anywhere in the nation, the Spoetzel Brewery will unveil Shiner 96, a Märzen beer, traditional at Oktoberfest.

I'm looking forward to this Oktoberfest! Hope to see you there.

The Holt Journeys

(15) Rodney and Jeanne have logged some serious
miles in the last few weeks. They went to New Orleans at the end
of last month, and last week, they went to Chicago to see Shawn
graduate from Navy basic training.

Mom, meanwhile, continues to spend every weekend
in Brownwood taking care of Grandmother. She is planning to make
a change in October. She wants to move Grandmother into our house.
Grandmother will sleep in what is now the dining room. The dining
room will move into the kitchen. Most of the kitchen will move onto
the back porch or the new storage building.

I went to Kerrville once. Dad went out in the back
yard a few times.

On the Ground in N'Awlins

Last week, Rodney and Jeanne went to New Orleans for a little vacation. Since I've let Steve write on this site, it's Rodney's turn. I did some editing. It was one long paragraph. I hope he doesn't mind.

We spent most our time in the french quarter.

Walking.

A lot.

In the humidity. My feet still don't like me.

We ate ate Crescent City Brewhouse (probably the best overall meal, the best shrimp po boy, but a little too expensive to hit more than once), Cafe Du Monde (almost every morning - biegnets YUMMO!!), Cafe Biegnet (great inexpensive full breakfast), Cafe Maspero (Great food, inexpensive no atmosphere), Olde Nawlins Cookery (OK food, relatively inexpensive and on a side street so not busy made this good), Margritaville (The most atmosphere, great food but kinda expensive, can't go here too often. I guess if you don't buy the drinks in the souvenier plastic parrot glass and the souvenier menu, it wouldn't be quite as expensive).

We rode the street car a lot. Most are air conditioned (good for getting out of the humidity) going up Canal Street. The Riverfront and St Charles Srtreetcars are not airconditioned. If you can catch them when they are not super crowded then it's a great way to get around.

We stayed out until 2:00 almost every night walking along Bourbon St. Didn't see any flashers but did see lots of college drunks.

I think we saw and went into every junkstore..I mean tourist trap...I mean souvenier store on Bourbon St. The bad thing is they all sell the same things, at the same price.

We took one of the paddle wheel boats to Chalmet Battlefields Natl Park, made famous by the song, In 1814 we took a little trip... We went to the acquarium, mainly to escape the humidity.

Did I mention the humidity?

It rained about an hour every day just to make sure the humidity level stayed at 100% as the temperature reached 98. We did take an umbrella, only forgot it one day...of course that was the day it rained while we were out.

We took the free ferry to Algiers across the Mississippi from Nawlins, to go to Mardi Gras World. It is where they make floats for Mardi Gras. Harry Connick Jr. is captain of one of the super clubs and his club's float was made and is stored there. It is over 200 feet long and carries over 200 riders. We went to Harrahs one night just to gamble some money away. They replaced coins wih paper tickets, so you don't get to hear the clinking of the coins hitting the tray. We each thought it ruined the fun of the machines. I guess we are not the high roller type we only took $20 to lose and came back with $9.

I'm just glad to be home.

Before we left we bought a vivitar digital camera and a 512 MB card. We were able to take 250 pictures with it, and even a couple of short movies.

I mentioned to Rodney that Sean would have been happy to recommend a cheaper place. When I told Sean that, he replied: "I do know this one place it is a 1/2 star hotel and it is free. It is called My Car, although it is not for everybody. It works for me and barely fits in my price range." I responded: "Let me guess, you save more money by eating at the same place. Eating the doritos in the seat cushions." And his reply: "Hell yeah, I see you have stayed at a similar establishment before."

Good Luck, Discovery

Our New Wal-Mart

The crowd at the church across the street (also known as the most photographed church in town--especially when we're trying to use up a roll of film) was a bit sparse tonight. You see, we got us a brand spankin' new Wal-Mart Super-Center!

This photo was taken before opening day, naturally. I went tonight because I needed some padded envelopes, and they have the best price in town. OMFG! The parking lot was full! There were cars from out of state there! The entire population of Fredericksburg was filling their cart up with Wal-Mart crap. AND THE MAIN STREET WAS STILL FULL!

I wonder where all those folks came from. There's a Super Wal-Mart in Kerrville, and one in Marble Falls. Hell, the ones on the Fredericksburg side of town of both Austin and San Antonio are closer than the one in Marble Falls.

And why was church across the street so empty tonight, you ask?

'Cause every Mexican in town was at the new Wal-Mart!

LORD, I APPOLOGIZE FOR BEIN' A RACIST LIKE THAT, AND BE WITH THE STARVIN' PYGMIES, DOWN THERE IN NEW GUINEA. AMEN!

A quick recap

Lessee, where do I begin?

Dad's on crutches. The doctor thinks the kneecap will heal on its own, so no surgery needed, thank goodness. He's getting around more, mainly because he's tired of sitting on his butt all day. He overdid it the other day. He went out to the patio to order me to turn on the water in the garden. When he got back inside, his knee hurt.

Sean will be getting home at 2 pm on Thursday. He's flying into Austin. We're going to play golf with Rodney and Gary on Saturday, then spend some time at NIOF.

Mom continues trying to get Grandmother to move to a retirement home. Now the pitch is to get into one here so she can visit everyday. Grandmother seems to have taken a shine to the idea and is helping Mom pack up all her "valuables." But she doesn't seem to be taking a shine to actually moving.

Other than that, it's just plain hot!

Darned ol' Year From Hell

On Sunday, Dad was walking out of church when he tripped and fell. By the time he got home, he couldn't walk. We talked him into going to the emergency room where they told him he had fractured his knee cap. So now he's on crutches. The bad thing is, they are a bit too long for him.

Sue and Marla came for a visit on Sunday night. They were on their way back home, and spent the night with us. I had to go to work before they got up so I didn't get to visit too much.

Sean will be coming home for 13 days in about a week. He's looking forward to Night in Old Fredericksburg.

Remembering Dabas

Today I went to Austin with a friend to buy brewing stuff. We had to stop at a PetSmart. He had to buy something. I had to pee. In the bathroom was a chart of dogs from around the world. I managed to find a listing for Catahoula Leopard dogs.

I sure do wish we could've kept Dabas.

It's all I can think about. I keep thinking about laying down in the floor, and seeing Dabas turn and look at me. I swear I could see him smile! And then he would charge me to bite me everywhere.

Here's a picture of what he would have wound up looking like.

(15) I held off as long as I could. I fought the urge for weeks. Then I succumbed. I redid the site. I must confess, I didn't come up with the design. I got it from the fine folks at Entheos. Their link is at the bottom of every page.

Something about their three column layout appealed to me. It would allow me to put ads on one side, and content on the other.

Let me know what you think. Email me at jeffholt at yahoo dot com.