The current version is usually posted at http://wlweather.net/LETTERS
Dave had prescriptions at Zales, so I took that as an excuse to take a ride before the rain started. First time I've been out in only one shirt and one pair of tights.
First to Family Express to replace the missing box of Altoids — at least it hadn't been opened yet, so they won't be stale when we find them,
Then to Zales, then to Kroger for bread, milk, creamer, potatoes, and a few impulse items. That included a pork tenderloin I plan to pound and fry for supper. I hesitated to buy it because we are out of flat buns, then remembered that I had two boxes of them already in my cart. Two boxes because Kroger had been out of them so long that I'd been afraid they had stopped selling them.
The "we baked too much" shelf included a box of naan bread the size of flat buns. It is marked "good for sandwiches" and a crease around the edge suggested that it had been sliced, but it hasn't. I sliced one for my chicken-salad lunch, then sliced another with the cheese knife - - which proved possible but not easy, and not much neater than the one I sliced with my default knife, so I froze the rest of them unsliced.
Abe is mowing the lawn. The rain has started, but it's not raining at the moment and things aren't wet yet.
It's nap time.
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After a quarter of an hour of hitting it with a meat hammer to no effect, I remembered that Kroger tenderloins Do Not Pound.
So I put the meat into a six-inch skillet with the fat side down, added a potato, a piece of carrot, and a stalk of celery — I had finally found celery in stock, after striking out so many times that I thought there must have been a plague of celery flu.
I plan to light a fire under it at four-thirty.
So what's for supper tomorrow night, when I planned to do this with the other fourteen ounces of the tenderloin?
Tenderloin simmered in white sauce flavored with chicken bouillon. I forgot that juice would cook out of the meat, and the gravy was runny.
I took a good-looking pair of garden pants out of the back of the closet to put on to receive the physiotherapist who checked Dave out today, realized that there was no good way to carry my cell phone, and wrapped them up for Mary Anne's Place.
A few more iterations and I'll have to buy some of those cotton-with-a-trace-of-linen pants from Amazon. Last summer, I didn't carry anything but a knife in my garden-pants pockets, and both my garden knives can be pinned inside a pocket-shaped ornament.
The physiotherapist is going to hold off on treatments until after we see Dr. Gauthier (pronounced "goshay") next week. Dave checked out pretty well on the tests the therapist did. He needs exercise.
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Supper tonight was a beef schnitzel I found in the freezer while checking to make sure we didn't have another tub of hydrogenated lard.
I got some sewing done today. No weeds pulled in the garden. I'm still harvesting mustard leaves, but most of the volunteers are going to seed.
I still have no clue as to how to repair my raised herb beds. Dave's only suggestion is to bulldoze everything and plant lawn grass.
None of the pre-made raised beds that I've seen on the Web have holes for Kenilworth ivy to grow in. And they look like water tanks. I think I'd prefer the pile-of-trash look I've got now!
Is it only Wednesday? Yesterday felt like a week.
Saturday was the usual farmers markets tour; I came home with turnips, "grandma" cookies, and an Indian wrap. In the evening I noticed that my throat felt scratchy and took a Zicam — a zinc gumdrop. It takes a good quarter of an hour to dissolve, and continues suppressing a scratchy throat for another fifteen minutes.
I felt good in the morning, but thought it rude to go to church. In the morning, I advanced my sewing a lot, but after my nap I didn't feel like cooking and thawed penne pasta in a skillet. I didn't return to work after supper even though I'm only five minutes with the iron and five with the sewing machine from having a new bra.
Monday morning I put on the Covid veil that can be thrown back under my helmet and rode to the bank to deposit a check from Genworth. After my nap, Darr's office called to say Dave's culture results were in and we needed to pick up an antibiotic and a fungicide at Zales, so I put my cycling clothes back on — the pockets were already loaded — and rode to Zales to pick up the prescriptions and buy another bottle of Zicam. It was late enough that I considered stopping at JimmyJohn to bring home a sub for supper, but went directly home and we made sandwiches out of left-over pork loin.
Some time in there I called Firefly to ask them to warn Brenda that we'd be at a meeting when she arrived, and she'd have let herself in. I also updated the chore list and printed it out. We expected the meeting to be over in time for Brenda to use our car to take the too-big-to-wash bedcover to a laundromat. I'd originally intended to go with her just for the ride, but felt that sharing a car in my condition would be rude.
To make a long story short, Dave had trouble getting out of bed in the night, and when he woke up he was running a fever and didn't think he could get out of bed at all, so soon thereafter an ambulance and a fire rescue truck turned up. I wondered at the fire rescue truck; it turned out that they need three people to carry a patient around a corner and there were only two in the ambulance.
Now I'm coughing and it's a quarter past six in the morning and it's time to go back to bed. (I got up for a snack an hour or so ago.) Saga will be continued later, preferably with Dave asleep in the next room.
I briefly considered going to the hospital by bike tomorrow, since there is no chance of bringing him home, but remembered that I have to cross SR 30 on Parker. I don't mind that intersection coming back because there is a long straight before it and no difficulty in getting into the proper lane. Going the other way is a bit chaotic.
I finally remembered that I must take care of myself and not urge Dave to eat while subsisting on granola bars, and my cold is much better today. (I also took my nap timer with me, and lay on the sofa in his room for an hour.)
It was a long slog to walk anywhere yesterday, but today I walked briskly without thinking about it, and took a couple of laps around the floor just for fun. (But I didn't use the stairs.)
On the second brisk walk, I went to the basement to look at the cafe, which is an honor-system vending machine. Has a couple of microwave ovens and some real food to heat in them.
Tonight I told the nutrition service that Dave's appetite was way down, and they sent up a cup of ice cream, a slice of cake, two puddings, and a glass of milk. He ate all of the ice cream and I told him to order ice cream for breakfast. He also ate most of the vanilla pudding and some of the cake, and drank the milk.
I took the new bra to the hospital, inserted three rows of elastic, and hand-sewed more than half of the neck binding. I'll have it to wear when I put my other good bra in the wash.
Dave was hauled off in an ambulance last Tuesday. He's in Room 3119 again.
This time he also has pneumonia, and they have put in a PICC line so that they can give him stronger antibiotics. This is a drastic measure, but it reduced the number of needles in him to one, which leaves his hands almost free, and there won't be any more needle sticks for blood draws. He still gets blood-sugar sticks.
He will be in Parkview Warsaw for a few more days, then a couple of weeks in Grace Village getting physical rehab. He needed physical therapy before spending another week in bed. Dave isn't keen on spending weeks at Grace, but he'll recover faster than with home visits. I must ask whether I can check him out and take him for a ride.
Incoherent updates will be posted at wlweather.net/LETTERS/2025BAN6.HTM. I suggest waiting until I find time to edit them.
Friday 13 June 2025 8:00 p.m.
Beeson Banner: Update on Dave
They have Dave sitting up in a chair for meals now, and assorted people have him doing exercises.
The marketing director of Grace Village dropped in — I *can* take him for a ride when he isn't busy. Later someone told us that the Grace Village van isn't available on weekends, and asked whether I could drive him there. That doesn't mean they will release him tomorrow or the next day, but they *did* feel that they needed to plan for the possibility.
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Joy Beeson
West of Fort Wayne, Indiana
When I showered off the poison ivy, I found a lot of scratches.
It's after bedtime now; I hope that I remember today and yesterday when I've had some sleep.
I'm kinda foggy on Saturday, except that Steve drove Dave to Grace Village Rehab, and when I got home, I fell into bed and slept eleven hours.
I sat Sunday morning with Dave.
He's perkier, and today he had his first physiotherapy and worked up enough appetite that he ate all of one of his two fried fish, and the larger one at that. He also ate the majority of his french fries. They are giving him cups of ice cream that's frozen protein shake, and some of that goes down. [Turned out later that Magic Cup has so many thickeners that Dave can't stand it. I could eat it if I were hungry and there was nothing else.]
The food is better than at the hospital — the steam table is right in the dining room, and the salt and pepper are in grinders.
The nurse eats with the patients, which is hard on her — do any of you remember Aunt Eva, who never sat down while serving a meal?
Returning to Sunday, after going home for a nap, I thought a two-mile bike ride would be just the ticket to perk me up. Like an idiot, I chose a route I hadn't used in at least a year. The Heritage Trail branches at the Grace athletic field — I think the branch, which is named after a pillar of Christ Covenant Church, isn't officially part of the Trail. At least Google Maps hasn't noticed it yet.
The cross country trail crosses that branch near the church, and a short walk comes out on Sunset Drive.
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I saw a firefly as I turned into the driveway tonight.
I'm really glad that I swapped in an oversized thumb drive for backups — I'm too tired to purge the obsolete files after backing up Thunderbird.
Half an hour before Brenda comes to wash the comforter and clean up the house.
I plan to spend much of the time she is here weeding the garden. And taking short naps I've been doing quite the opposite of what someone with a virus should be doing.
Read the above entry and paused to purge JOYBACK_A.
I tasted Dave's cup of Magic Cup yesterday evening. It turns into a pudding instead of melting.
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Brenda's car broke down. All is in disarray.
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If Brenda had come, our car would have been at the laundromat when Dave needed his wallet. I shared his lunch. There was half an excellent grilled-cheese sandwich and some taco salad left over. Dave ate a respectable amount of the taco salad.
That place needs some pigs or a flock of chickens, but I'm sure the feds would not allow it.
It's 4:13 p.m. and I'm planning to go back soon.
Shared his supper, and a chicken filet from the woman on my right.
I stayed to help him shower and go to bed, and drove home very, very carefully.
We have a meeting at 10:30 to discuss his plan of treatment. Ain't quite time for me to leave yet, but I can't concentrate.
I can take him home for a few hours on Saturday.
Brenda is on her way to the laundromat with a filthy fleece comfort. Washing that has been on my list of things to do for months.
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Fleece on the line. Wind should dry it soon.
While Brenda was out, I got the bike ready for tomorrow's ride.
Being jerked out and shoved back twice, at each fence I climbed, had left the insulation on my left pannier in need of a complete rebuilding. When I got it apart, I decided that the Kroger curb-service bag had been serving long enough — it's probably been in there since 2020. For a worrying time I couldn't find my replacement bags. They fold up smaller than I expected, and were in a pile of brown paper bags the exact same color. I presume the color match was not a co-incidence.
The inner bag is still in good shape. I'm glad because it has handles and the bags I bought don't.
Past time for me to eat and get a nap.
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Cool! The "David E. Beeson" name tags were exactly where I thought that I'd left them, and I put them into my go bag.
I couldn't have escaped from Winona Lake on the way to pick Dave up if a policeman hadn't moved a cone to let me into the bank's parking lot. Coming back we had to move very slowly down Chestnut street to let the runners go around us. Then at the end of Boy's City, we had to wait for a gap to get to our house.
I had me a ten-minute lie-down after we got back.
It's almost eleven; I think I'll start heating the skillet for the flank steak at twelve.
So I've nearly an hour to finish the saga of the walk in the woods.
Not much to say except that they have re-arranged the cross-country trails since my last visit, and I ended up walking nearly to 250e, most of it in weeds that were very hard to walk in.
I could see houses, but there was swamp in between, and when I got past the swamps there was a fence I couldn't get over. I followed the fence, shouting "help help help" at intervals in the hope that someone could tell me where I was.
I thought I was saved when I came across a four-wheeler trail; where a vehicle gets in, a vehicle can get out. But it turned out that four-wheelers in the woods merely go in circles. Eventually a wire fence stopped me, and I followed it in the hope of finding a gate. The field on the other side was possible to walk in and the weeds on my side were not, so when I came to a place where the fence was only knee high, I lifted the bike over it — that was when I picked up most of my scrapes and bruises. I followed the wire fence back to the houses, and there was a woman on her back porch. She didn't know where there was a gate, and there was a quite-impossible fence behind her house, then we (her husband was there by then) noticed that the wire fence didn't quite reach the junction between her fence and the three-clothesline fence I'd been following, and a full-grown male, with a little help from the other side could lift my bike over that after I'd taken all my luggage out. Then I crawled between the ropes and all was well.
It did take me a while to find Wooster Road and ride back to Grace Village.
2:49. I'm planning to roll out for Grace at three. Yesterday I dumped Dave at Grace right after lunch, and went back after supper to put him to bed.
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11:30: I'm back to my normal sleep pattern of waking up an hour before time to take my levothyroxin.
My hair has been washed, but I can't remember whether it was today or yesterday; a shower doesn't fit into either schedule. Perhaps it was right after I weeded the volunteer multipliers in the cool of this morning.
I took a peanut-butter and PBL sandwich in the lunchbox-size cooler so I could eat dinner with the group, but ate half of Dave's grilled ham-and- cheese instead. He ate three fourths of the other half, and all of his french fries. I must put some raw veggies in my cooler tomorrow.
The topic of the Fourth of July fireworks came up at dinner, and I asked whether Dave could attend. The answer was "Yes", but he has to be checked back in before 11:59 or Medicare won't pay for the day. So someone would have to leave the party early to take him back. Whether he can attend the picnic depends on the physiotherapists.
This morning, I was quite alarmed to get a call from Grace Village while I was debating whether to get up and get a drink, but it was transportation arranging for a trip to Goshen to see the urologist.
Maybe I should
I wonder whether I typed that after getting home, before falling into bed.
Today I went to Alicks and Kroger and I'm late for my nap. At Kroger, I put my stuff against the front wall of the footwell, laid yesterday's mail over it, and found my second bottle of water cool when I came back to the car.
Steering wheel hot enough to hurt.
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It was 9:30 when I got home tonight, so I'll probably see the fireworks. But there won't be any cheddar-cheese dip unless somebody borrows my recipe. I forgot about chips when I was at Kroger, but we already have tortilla chips and potato chips and a few kinds of soda.
They will release Dave some time next week. And if the physios don't have plans for him, he's clear to attend Dave and Jeanie's barbecue party.
Steve came to visit yesterday, and was told only that Dave was in Goshen. I hadn't the patience to hunt and peck that the emergency was that an appointment he'd missed was re-scheduled to an unexpected gap in the doctor's schedule, so I sent a somewhat loquacious e-mail:
6/24/2025, 9:41 PM
Dave had an appointment in Goshen on the day after he was hauled off in an ambulance. Today Grace's van driver called to re-schedule it and found that they could squeeze him in today, and if I got to Grace by 2:00 I could ride with him. I hastily changed the instructions for Brenda (our home helper, who cleaned the house today) and went there about noon. Arrived just as they were serving lunch, and I ate even though I'd hastily eaten before leaving. We got back from Goshen just at suppertime and the nurse set a plate for me. We can say I've caught up on my eating; when it was time for my bedtime snack, I didn't want it. I ate a bite of left-over barbecue anyway, since I can't eat again until half an hour after I take levothyroxin.
I had a V-8 instead of a nap, and for an hour or so after supper I thought I'd have to stay the night, but by seven I'd rested enough to help Dave shower and go to bed — most of what I did was to compensate for not having things arranged as they are at home; perhaps he can come home soon.
So it was safe for me to drive home, and I even parked in the garage. (That was always Dave's job, so I'm annoyed at having gotten good at it.)
It was much nicer going to Goshen in the back seat! And the doctor wrote a prescription for our First Care nurse to change his catheter, so we don't have to go back every month.
Hope I don't forget to call her in the morning.
Also hope that we remember correctly that she's qualified and willing to do it.
I was surprised that the van driver was in charge of making appointments, but who else knows whether or not the patient can get there?
I always get a bit wordy after bedtime. I met most of the deadlines on my college papers that way!
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Joy Beeson
http://wlweather.net/PAGEJOY/
West of Fort Wayne, Indiana
Hey, I came home with no notes on the slip of paper I carry in my shirt pocket. And the shirt isn't so sweaty that I should wear the other one tomorrow. But I did need to rinse sweat out of my bra.
Immediately upon returning home, I turned the thermostat down to 72°. I haven't been feeling warm at 74°, but I suspect that heat has been sapping my energy.
It appears that I haven't written since we learned that he will come home on Wednesday. Still don't know what time Wednesday. Probably after filling out a lot of paperwork.
The duty nurse told me that they will continue setting a plate for me at suppertime. This started when I came back from Goshen utterly wasted exactly at serving time, but has happened before. I think that eating a prepared-by-somebody-else meal, at a table, with conversation, has significantly improved my condition.
Later I turned the thermostat to 73°
I was puzzled to find "Banner: 180°" among the notes I scribbled on a quarter sheet of pink paper and tucked into _Agent of Terra_ on Sunday, June 22nd. Eventually I remembered that I'd wondered why the brakes on the wheelchairs work opposite ways: One pushes forward to stop its wheel, and the other pulls back. On Sunday, I realized that they are the same, rotated half a turn.
And now it's back at 74°
Alexa woke me up at seven. This was not a good start to the day. I'm taking my nap before lunch instead of after.
I can fetch Dave any time before midnight on Wednesday. I'm planning to bring him home to cook his own breakfast.
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This time a spammer got me up, but after I'd slept enough. It's 11:58 — I ate lunch and did some chores before logging in. I'll lie down again before rolling out at 3:00
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Took time out to inspect the lily bed, taking one of the phones with me. Deer have browsed off the flower buds on the north side — a calf did the same to Mom's madonna lilies just before they bloomed for the first time. There were no regrets when Sam went to Beechwood and came back in packages.
But the south side of the bed should put on quite a show.
I need to spend about half an hour cutting down trees with lopping shears. They are thick enough to hide the lilies.
A splendid picnic, though I ate too much and got groggy. Dave & Jeanie put up a pavilion for Dave and me.
I shouldn't have stayed up for the fireworks; I was groggy in church. A woman I mis-identified and can't find in the church directory drove me home. She knows me well enough that she didn't ask where to take me.
This is a *very* friendly church. "By this shall they know you: that you love one another."
I dug up another clump of multipliers, all fat ones that should keep over the winter. It was theoretically raining at the time, and I heard it hitting the leaves of the catalpas once, but none hit me. I dug up some dry dirt, and later poured a bucket of water on the multipliers that I'm leaving in the ground over the winter.
I'm bringing Dave home tomorrow, before breakfast!
🚲
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