Since I've been without refined sugar and high fructose corn syrup for the past two weeks, I had to laugh at myself this morning. I've, sort of, gotten used to the taste of diet sodas. This morning, before walking Rosie and Remy, I opened their bag of all-natural doggie treats - and was surprised when my mouth started to water. Yep, the smell of dog treats made me slobber... They are Newman's Own, made with beef, vegetables, barley, and molasses. The smell of molasses was so sweet when I opened the bag, I wanted to stuff my entire head inside of it. I didn't. I realized what I was doing, and I laughed; then Sasquatch and Tugger wanted to investigate, but they weren't impressed with the odors.
After walking the Rs, I went to pick up my meds, as I had taken my last doses on Sunday morning. Since I had called the prescriptions in to the pharmacy for renewal on Friday, I hoped to just waltz in and grab them. No such luck. First, I was told to come back in 15 minutes or so. When I did, I was informed that I had already renewed my Atenelol earlier in the month. I denied it. The pharmacist checked again, and said, I can give you the one drug, but not the other. I told her I had an extra two weeks supply of the drug she was offering, but I needed the Atenelol. I told her that I had last re-filled the drugs at her pharmacy, and I hadn't purchased them elsewhere, and to please check with the insurance company that was denying me needed medicine. I stopped back at the pharmacy 5 hours later, and was handed my meds - my GP had called in the new refills for the Atenelol to a different pharmacy, which had filled the order, and just left it lying on the shelf. Grrrrr...
Lovey goes to Pet Menders in the morning to have her teeth cleaned, and at least one removed. She hasn't been under anesthesia since I adopted her, almost 7 years ago, and I'm nervous. I keep telling myself to remember how refreshed I always feel after general, but it's not working very well. (And I'm having a great time watching Demarcus Ware repeatedly sack Jay Cutler of the Bears, right now.)
I shouldn't have laughed when I read the headline, but, as usual, I did. A 70-year-old farmer in Oregon went out to feed his hogs - most of them weigh 700 pounds or more - and didn't return. His family found his dentures and bloody bits of him in the hog pen. It's thought that either (a) the farmer had a medical emergency and couldn't get out of the pen, or (b) one of the larger hogs has been known to bite and attack the farmer in the past, and attacked him that time. I'm certain the medical examiner will come up with something like "death by heart attack", or "death by misadventure." I hope the farmer's death certificate doesn't read "death by hog."
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