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A beautiful morning in the country

So far all of the pictures I’ve taken for the blog have been within a fifteen mile radius of Lafayette, but I’m sure that will change later this year. After all, we are scheduled to travel to Sin City in the hottest part of the summer. 

Yesterday I wrote and posted the blog entry fairly early in the day (early for me) and so did not write about my further adventures with mother-in-law Flo. Let me catch you up to date.

Cindy asked me to go with her to Flo’s apartment to take off the shower head she was using and to put on a new one that Trina had bought. That sounded simple enough until we got there and I realized I was not competent enough to do the task. In fact, I could not get the old shower head off. Not a problem. I called Stan, our plumber of choice, and asked him to come to my rescue. Actually I got his voice mail and left him my request. I told Flo, who was sitting in her easy chair that when I heard from Stan I would call her to let her know he was on the way, and that I would come back to make sure he came to right apartment. She said fine. Cindy was going through Flo’s meds and parceling out her weekly intake of drugs. I left to find a photo.

While I was out finding yesterday’s picture, Stan called me back and said he would be happy to install the shower head, and that he would probably be able to get there between 11 and 12. He assured me he would call fifteen to twenty minutes ahead of time so that I could get back to the apartment. I found my picture, went home to upload it and to write yesterday’s blog. I had posted the entry and was deciding what to do next when Stan called and said he was ready to come over to Flo’s apartment. I called Flo to tell her to expect us but got her voice mail. I left a message despite the fact that she doesn’t know how to access her voice mail. Then I drove to the apartment.

When I got to the apartment I called again, and again the call went to voice mail. This time I went to the door and knocked. Getting no response I let myself in and called out. Flo answered and said she was in the bedroom. I walked to the bedroom door and saw her making her bed. I told her Stan was on the way and that I would wait outside so he would know which building to come to. She said fine.

When Stan arrived he had a young man with him who he introduced as his nephew Samuel. Samuel was visiting from Maryland and was job shadowing Stan, just as his two older brothers had done. He seemed Like a nice kid. We went in and rather than find Flo in the living room, she was in bed. OK. I took Stan and Samuel into the bathroom where Stan started working ion the shower head.

Flo called me and asked me to come into the bedroom. She said she wanted me to call Cindy because she wanted to talk to her. I said I would do so as soon as Stan finished in the bathroom. I went back to the bathroom. A minute or two later Flo called me in again. She asked me to get her cell phone. I asked her where it was. She said it was on her nightstand. I looked at her. She was in bed, on her side, with her back to the nightstand. If she had made the effort to roll onto her back she could have reached the phone with no trouble. Reluctantly I handed her the phone, and went back to the bathroom.

A minute or two later Flo called me in again. This time she told me that Trina had told her to call an ambulance. Evidently I hadn’t hopped fast enough when she wanted to talk to Cindy, so she called Trina. Flo tried to hand me her phone and said I should call the ambulance. I asked her if she knew the num,ber of the ambulance service, and she said, “Call 911.” Evidently she wasn’t able to push the three buttons. So I called 911.

The woman at 911 was nice. She asked where we were, I asked Flo the number of the apartment building and found out she didn’t know the answer, so I looked it up on my phone. The woman asked the nature of Flo’s emergency and I said I didn’t know, but that I would ask. Flo said she didn’t feel good. The lady asked how long she had felt bad, Flo said she had been feeling bad for three days. Flo volunteered that she thought she was “leaking back there” and that it wasn’t blood. The nice lady at 911 surmised that she meant diarrhea. The lady told me that and ambulance and a fire truck had been dispatched to see to Flo.

In the meantime, Stan finished work on the shower head, packed his tools, and got the heck out of Dodge. I can’t say that I blamed him for wanting to flee the scene. I’m also sure that Samuel’s estimation of Indiana had been altered a bit.

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