Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Floofsomnia (floofinition) – Human inability to deeply sleep unless an animal is present.
In use: “Floofsomnia studies show that cat and dog pet owners are about equally divided about the need to sleep with a pet, but that cats will generally take over more of the bed.”
To begin, something had gone wrong with the engineering. Unexpected failures in a system were causing problems. Root cause analysis was leading nowhere.
But I, a non-engineer, had been speaking with a supplier. His comments and concerns led me to insights and conclusions. Now I just needed to prove them. To do that, I discovered that quarters put in a certain place would expose the shortcoming. I then began collecting quarters to find and then mark the failed pieces. All the parts were white and black. This assembly wasn’t large, about the size of a hand drill.
Everyone was being hostile toward me about. I’m a non-engineer. What could I know. During conversations and meetings, the supplier decided they needed to cover up their failures so they hid those units in a stack of other units. I was going through them, trying to find them.
As I did that, the engineers announced their frustration and irritation, and because of that, they were going on a trip. I told them to take quarters with them, not for testing, but to use to call back for help when a system failed, stranding them. The chief engineer, a short, angry white man with a gray burr cut, didn’t like the suggestion, didn’t like me, and told me all of this while his engineering staff stood around him, nodding their approval of his comments. The all left.
I was determined to prove myself and continued my search and uncovered a stash of failed units. Using all my quarters, I marked then, then hid them so others couldn’t hide them.
End dream.
I live in Ashland, in southern Oregon. Events drove me east, to where Mom and several sisters reside in the Pittsburgh, PA area. On Friday, September 10, I took the redeye to Pittsburgh. Already down with COVID, Mom suffered a perforated appendix and also had COVID pneumonia, and was in Forbes Hospital, demanding morphine and fighting against being intubated. They moved her to a step down unit for more intensive monitoring and care, and was in isolation. Masks, gloves, and gowns were required to visit her, only two visitors at a time.
She’s recovered a lot since then. With antibiotics and treatment, her COVID subsided. The appendix perforation closed. Her pacemaker had only been working at less than 20%, so that was also a problem, as was a blood clot. The blood clot ended up in her spleen, which they said was okay, and her heart and pacemaker both increased to 50 % function. Pleased with her progress, she was discharged from the hospital last Monday and moved to a nursing home.
She liked the nursing home, Concordia. Physical therapy began. They told her she’d probably be there two to six weeks. That was pared down to two yesterday.
They released her today.
That surprised me. Apparently what precipitated it was a night of hell for her. Hearing about it, my sisters grew angry and charged down there.
You do not want to be in their way when my sisters are angry, especially if their family is involved. Move out of their way and in front of an oncoming bullet train. You’ll be safer.
Mom’s NoH included being abruptly taken off oxygen at midnight and not monitored. The night nurse had an attitude for whatever reason. She didn’t want to help Mom with her CPAC for sleeping and threw Mom’s phone on the floor. Mom’s door was open all night as another patient roamed the halls shouting, “I have a gun. I’m going to come in there and kill you.”
I’ve been staying at Mom’s house with her 92-year-old boyfriend, Frank, a great guy, but very passive, and under Mom’s control. Mom is 85. Her house was built eighty years ago. The steps are narrow and steep. It’s not built for a frail woman to get around and recover.
But this is why I’m here. I came here because it might’ve been time to say good-bye to Mom. I came here to give my sisters and Frank relief and support. Now I’ll be here to help give Mom care in her home. I don’t know what train of circumstances and logic led to the surprising decision that she’s being released today. It sounds like a crazy train, in my uninformed thinking. It’s a fluid situation. The sisters are racing back to the nursery home to learn more and, as necessary, help Mom get home. Per their thinking, I’m here, waiting for Mom to arrive in case my sisters don’t arrive in time.
Coffee is on. I think we’ll need a few cups. Here we go.
Floofuppance (floofinition) – A deserved punishment or rebuke meted out by an animal.
In use: “The hunter was trying to shoot and kill an elephant when a lion stole up on him and delivered his floofuppance.”
Looking back on his life, he was amazed by how lucky he was in where and when he was born, and the gifts and talents he had. He didn’t cultivate or use many of them, something he was realizing too late, as many people. He always thought there was a little more time.
My wife and I were driving through the night. I did all the driving. It was a dark, intermittently wet experience but steady progress. We made it to where we wanted to go. As sunrise rinsed out the night, we found a different, larger vehicle to carry us on, and took on supplies. I packed the supplies in different containers. We emptied the one car, and I put everything in the other car. We were traveling with cats and had a litter box. I cleaned it out and then, for some reason, put the bags of used litter on the floor behind a seat. A cat was curled up in that location, apparently asleep, but I then realized he was dead. It was Quinn, who in RL, died of cancer several years ago.
With the new vehicle packed up, we went across the compound to shower. Suddenly naked, I squatted down in the sunshine, waiting for my turn. My wife stood beside me as I waited. We talked while this happened, feeling good about where we were and where we were going. People randomly passed by, taking no notice. I picked a scab off my leg.
The dream ended.
Sunshine slanted across the flat valley at 7:17 AM in Pittsburgh before clouds bullied it into disappearing.
Hi, fellow sentients. Today is Wednesday, September 21, 2022. September is going apace. Seems like another day comes up about every twenty-four hours. Viewing hours for daylight will end today at 7:30 in the PM. 63 F is the moment’s temperature under serious clouds. Drumroll as we open the envelope and read the omniscient they’s projected high: 28 C.
The groundhog has emerged for breakfast in the backyard. I enjoy watching him traverse and search, imagining his personality and voice from his waddle, pauses, and gazes. Really looks like he might be a retired British major. He likes a peaceful, easy way, and prefers the solitude of his own voice.
Mom is doing better, thanks. Was moved last night from hospital a nursing home to begin rehab therapy. Voice, spirit, attitude have all improved. She’s cleared of COVID, fluid gone from lungs and heart, pacemaker and heart are both stronger, her appendix healed, and infections are vanquished. She remains on anti-biotics while she gains mass back, but she’s off the blood thinner. Thanks for your support, it is appreciated. Going up to see her in a while.
On my end, I removed my Ziopatch from my chest this morning and I’m mailing that back today. Good to have it off my chest.
The Neurons are wild with music this morning. Huey Lewis and the News, Metallica, Bush, Tony! Toni! Toné!, The Climax Blues Band, and others. I finally settled on “She’s Just My Style” from 1965. I couldn’t recall who had it as a hit and did the google thing to bring back Gary Lewis & the Playboys. I always like this song’s vocals, and that brief guitar solo. I was nine when it came out but its words were easily heard and understood. I always enjoyed the small vocal flourishes it incorporated. It’s another one of those songs from basement adventures where we pretended to be famous performers.
Got some Peet’s Major Dickason on deck. Stay positive and test negative. The alternative sucks. I speak from my own experience; yours will be different. Here’s the music. Cheers
Years have passed since he’s spent much time at a place with cable television. Flipping through the channels, he’s astounded how many of the stations offer hours of the same thing, such as sitcoms like “Everybody Loves Raymond”, “Friends”, “Seinfeld”, and “The Office”, along with movies shown again and again. The Shawshank Redemption and Top Gun have been the offerings he’d seen time and again. “Mannix” is there, and Perry Mason. There are live game shows and the news and weather. But it’s mostly a wasteland lively with the reruns of yesteryear.
It has expanded. There are many more shows offering more specialized insights. None of them on retirement, cross-dressing, or cooking, seized his attention.
It reminds him exactly why he cut the cable over a decade ago.
