FIL 2

I'm sorry, ya'll. I had posted this over at Journalscape, and had thought I'd copied over here, but evidently hadn't.

The short version:

FIL was really sick. He lost 1 1/2 quarts of blood, and was given 500 cc of red blood cells in Afton, and continued to lose blood throughout today.

MIL went to Wyoming to get him, and brought him back to a nice big Idaho hospital. Of course, this is America, so there was no way he was getting into a doc for 1 1/2 to 2 weeks. (But he, of course, didn't have that much blood to lose...) When the MIL told me when he could be seen, I asked, "What are you going to do? Get him in via the ER?" And she said, "Pretty much." And they did. It took all day, but the FIL was finally seen.

He had an ulcer/some small ulcers. (I'm still not clear on this.) The doc repaired his hole/holes, and sent him home to rest.

Of course, because I'm brilliant (whatever), I figured it was ulcers. And later my MIL told me thought so, too (due to FIL's arthritis meds, which he's been taking WITHOUT food, despite instructions to the contrary).

The other important thing to note is that the MIL is an RN, and used to work post-op at this hospital. She's now a nurse educator and works on the peds floor one day a week. She hooked up the FIL with a FNP her MIL has been seeing, via the ER, and got the FIL in that way. So there was much scheming, but it was necessary.

fall on your knees, literally

This morning, Rice sends me a link to a most, erm, amazing version of O, Holy Night. Just after I finished listening to it, and trust me -- you HAVE to listen to the whole thing before you read the rest of the story (and if you don't, you'll miss out on the big finish) -- I had a telemarketer call.

Here's the chatlog from my report to Rice:

[11:37] AI: I just had a telemarketer hang up on me.
Rice: ?
AI: This guy called for something in Texas, and then said, "Oh crap, excuse me. I mean I'm calling for the some association to take your money and use it for something other than I claim¹ who wants to remind you to make sure your smoke detectors work and the batteries are fresh." yadda yadda something about decals. "Now, Mrs. Rice, the donation amounts are..."
AI: And I say, "Dude, you gotta hear this..." and I clicked the play icon.
AI: He hung up.
***

And to make up for it, I give you Cartman.

1 Just so we all know that I don't hate most charitable organizations, it's important to point out that such organizations aren't what they claim to be. It's a scam, and a big deal around here. Been in the papers, gone to the local attorney general's office several times, citizens warned not to donate funds, yadda, yadda. Don't send me hate mail. You can, however, send me hate mail for being insensitive to the gentleman, erm, singing.

Bowie Meets Crosby

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