This & That

[mallorys_camera]

Ironically, yesterday was one of the busiest days I’ve ever spent volunteering at the food bank.

There was a line of cars when I got there at 8:30 a.m.

There was a line of cars at 11:30 a.m. when we ran out of food and closed up for the day.

I have no idea what these people are gonna do when the Hyde Park Food Bank is forced to shut down.

They literally depend upon us to eat.

###

Else?

To qualify for long-term care insurance, I’m gonna have to hunt down a primary healthcare provider.

I haven’t had a primary healthcare provider since I moved away from Ithaca.

Why would I need one?

I have one medical issue: the autoimmune disease.

The autoimmune disease is linked to a particularly painful form of arthritis.

I get arthritis flare-ups maybe three times a year.

Last time I went to a doctor, I wanted tramadol—which I had been taking for years—for those few times each year when I have to hole up in bed for a few days with an arthritis flare-up.

But no-oooooo!

The American healthcare industry has determined I will become a drug addict if I take tramadol a few times each year for psoriatic arthritis!!!!

The American healthcare industry would rather put me on ongoing doses of methotrexate, a potent antimetabolite that leads to chronic fatigue, chronic diarrhea, headaches, hair loss, and general malaise.

In other words, the American healthcare industry would rather poison me than give me pain meds.

Personally, I think that’s insane, so these days, I get vaccinations at my local CVS, and on the two occasions when I felt like I needed antibiotics, I got scripts at an urgent care center.

And on those two or three occasions each year when I take to my bed with a flareup, I drink a lot of bourbon and take a lot of gummies.

But to placate Ichabod and get this insurance, I’m gonna have to get someone official to sign a name to a cursory physical exam and send blood off to some laboratory.

Sigh…

###

Also, I gave up on Look At Me.

The writing in this book is just excretable. So strained. You’d be hard put to find a single felicitous phrase. Plus, every single character is off-putting, and they all have mystifyingly implausible relationships with one another.

Yes, yes, it’s very reassuring to find out that Jennifer Egan can write badly, too!

But I don’t need that reassurance badly enough to plow through an additional 250 pages.

This leaves me with nothing to read!!!

Which is a major crisis.

Comments

[summersgate]

Looking at your picture. The beautiful bounty! Some poor people will be eating good for at least one feast this week. Or is it more times a week?

[mallorys_camera]

Just once a week on Fridays. The veggies all come from my community garden! In fact, I grew the tomatoes (big and little) in that photo.

[summersgate]

Nice! Dave's tomatoes are just now in the last couple of days starting to come on.

[adoptedwriter]

I just looked up that book. I had heard of it, but naw...not my cuppa probably past the 1st few chapters from what I gather.
That food looks amazing!
I hate the idea that people who prob don't have many of the needed qualifications are deciding what is medicinally and mentally best for the rest of us.

[mallorys_camera]

You mean the government crackdown on opioids?

Let those people in West Virginia and Arkansas have their opioids! Honestly, I don't see any difference if people self-medicate their depression with opioids or take prescribed Prozac for depression—they both cause constipation. Only opioids are more fun.