I now have one broken microwave (no handle), one working oven (no handle) and, the latest breakdown, one broken dishwasher (with handle).
To summarize, the oven threatened to stay locked until just before the crucial moment on Thanksgiving Day, losing its handle in the process. The microwave had already started to fall apart piece-by-piece, and now the dishwasher died. It tries to work, sounding like an airplane trying to take off, but then it just stops. Craig the appliance guy said the motor is broken, and I might as well replace the whole unit.
Time to spend some money.
In the meanwhile the bottom of the dishwasher is filled with water, and he said it's going to get nasty if I don't get the water out. This means a combination of scooping out as much water as possible and resetting the dial to dry about 20 times or so. It kicks in for a second, and a little water empties out. Then I have to let the motor rest and do it again. Unfortunately, it's a little like Sisyphus trying to get the boulder up the hill. The dial resets itself, and several times I have forgotten to move it to dry. So it starts for a second and fills up a little again.
I have run a mile several times without stopping, but each time when I finish I feel queasy. Yesterday I felt pretty good, so I pushed myself a little. When I was done, I threw up.
I guess my body is telling me to back off. Today I returned to a jog/walk and felt much better.
As I wrote before, I need to have four teeth pulled. I scheduled two for later in December when the kids will be home to drive me and was planning to schedule the other two for after that. I am going to take two Ativan, so I need someone to drive me and stay with me.
Today, one of the teeth crumbled onto my plate. The surgeon squeezed me in tomorrow at 7:45 a.m. I am going to have to set two alarms, because today I turned off the alarm and reset it three times.
I have grown used to my little routine: Wednesday and Friday tennis, Thursday yoga, and running and home exercising the other days, plus dog walking every day.
I asked the surgical technician over the phone if she thought I could play tennis Wednesday night.
What am I, ten years old?
I'm sure that's how I sounded, because she responded in kind.
"No, honey, no tennis for three or four days."
Well, at least I had fun grocery shopping today n advance of being laid up. I got soup, crackers, ice cream and even chocolate pudding treats, which reminded me of shopping for the kids.
I'm a little concerned about excess bleeding after the extraction. My platelets are pretty low; at my last visit they were in the 60s. But the doctor said anything over 50 is OK, so I need to go with that.
Meanwhile, I was sorry to do it, but I had to ask a friend for a ride.
You know who you are. You're very kind. I hope I don't drool all over your car.