Trick or Treat

Halloween Time.

Are you going to a party?

Handing out goodies?

Sadly, I'm doing neither. No one comes to our new place.

I love seeing the kids, and I love candy, so what is not to love about Halloween?

Here is a Halloween flashback of mine. 

Friday, October 10, 2008

Halloween

I love  Halloween.
I may be a Grinch at Christmas, but I am a lover of Halloween.
Today, I just love opening the door and seeing the little ones in their costumes and all that goes along with it.

I have great memories of Halloween as a child.
I have great memories of Halloween parties as an adult. 
One of my favorite adult costumes was for a party we were attending as a famous couple.
Everyone we knew was choosing celebrity couples. We went a different direction instead as a cartoon couple. We were Fred and Wilma Flintstone. 
It was such fun to see who was walking in the door as which couple.
But that was the last Halloween party I enjoyed.

I was living in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, at the time for my career.
I was dating my husband, who lived exactly 2 hrs east along I-90 in PA.
He called and told me about a big Halloween party his friends were having on Friday night, the 30th. He asked me to come into town and attend a party with him on Friday night.

I explained that I would be in Houston on business and not returning until at least 5pm if the flight was on time. I wasn’t sure I could get home and repack, put on a costume and be there in time.

I looked at the calendar and said to Rick, “Gee, Halloween is on Saturday, are you sure the party is on Friday night and not Saturday?”
He said he was sure they told him on Friday. But I didn’t stop. I begged him to call his friends and be sure about the date, and then let me know, and I’d see what I could do.

I had a plan, but honestly, this was not going to be easy for me.
I thought I’d have to hurry out and get a costume before I left for my trip, which honestly, I didn't have time for. I planned to have my bag packed with my costume and leave it in my car parked at the airport to avoid going home after the airport. Then, as soon as I landed, I’d drive to his place and change there and off we’d go… maybe being just a bit late. It just was too close for my comfort.

He called me 2 days later to let me know that he had called his friends about the party.
What he neglected to tell me at that time was that his friends were not home.
Their teenage son answered the phone, and Rick asked a 14-year-old if his parents’ party was for Friday night.
The kid says, “Yeah”
Now we all know a 14-year-old, a boy to boot, has no clue of what is going on in his parents' life.
He barely listens to his parents when they talk. So he may have heard that a party was going to take place, but you can't rely on a 14-year-old boy for the details of such things. For that matter, you can't depend on a grown-ass man to give you details.....But apparently, that point was lost on Rick.

So I bought my costume now at the last minute, with barely any choices to choose from.
I pack my car with an extra suitcase. One for my trip to Houston for business and the other for my trip to Rick’s place for a Halloween party. Flying back to Cleveland, my plane is 20 minutes late getting me home. I run through the airport in 3-inch heels like I'm on fire. I get to the parking garage and drive like a crazy woman across Interstate 90 and make it to Rick’s home in 80 minutes. (That was my record!)

We put on our costumes. I am a nun and he is a priest/monk. We look good. We have a good laugh about the unholy things we'll be doing later and take a few pictures of ourselves, and off we go to the party.
As we drive over to the party, Rick is telling me about his friend's notorious Halloween parties, the dry ice, the costumes, the fun and craziness. I say, “I can’t believe a few hours ago I was in Houston and now we’re actually going to be on time.”
I was so frenzied that I was now feeling like I could finally exhale.
I couldn't wait to have a drink and see all that he was telling me because it sounded like fun.

We pulled up to the house, and it is very dark.
Rick tells me it’s dark because of the party, and again he goes into stories about how the lights are out and the wild and elaborate decorations this couple goes to for their parties.
We are sitting across the street from the house and I mention that I don’t see a lot of cars. So we agree to sit here and wait a bit so we aren’t the first couple inside.
We waited for 10 more minutes, and no one was showing up.
I am having a very bad feeling which I share with Rick but he is poo-poo-ing me as we sit and wait......and wait.

After what seemed like a long time, Rick suggests we go inside.  

Rick knocks on the door.
We are both just standing on their porch with our costumes on the day before Halloween waiting for someone to answer the door. But no one answers the door.
Rick knocks and rings the bell again. Finally, someone comes to the door.
It’s Trish, his friend’s wife. She looks groggy. She sees Rick, and it takes her a minute to realize what she is looking at, and then she begins to laugh hysterically.
Rick says, “did you guys cancel the party and not call me?”
Trish tries to speak but is laughing so hard she can’t get anything out.

Apparently, Trish’s husband took her sons to a football game and she fell asleep on the couch. We woke her up. She finally gains her composure and says to Rick, “oh my God you ass! Rick, the party is tomorrow, tomorrow is Halloween you big goofball, not today. Why don’t you come in anyways and have a drink with me.”

I am mortified. I have never met these people before, and here I stand in front of her in a nun's costume. I say hello, and she just can't stop laughing. We decline the offer of going inside for a drink.  He tells her that we’ll just see you tomorrow. We walk off the porch as this woman is holding her abdomen, laughing hysterically.

When we get back to the car he says to me, “I know, I know you told me it would be on Saturday, but I swear their kid told me it was today!”

"THEIR KID? I thought you said you called Trish and her husband?
So now I get the truth. I was so mad at him, and I was embarrassed.
But at the same time, I found this funny. How damn ridiculous we must have looked standing there out of context to her?

Nothing has changed, sadly. Rick doesn't ever pay attention to the details. 
Details are what he calls minutia, as though unimportant. 
I think that is why he married me. I know that it is why he begged me to run his business when I was downsized.  He could trust me, and he knew the "minutia" would be dealt with without bogging down his pretty little head.

We never did go back to the real party on Saturday. I just wasn’t up for the humiliation, and my heart just wasn't in it.

But we still have a Halloween memory, don't we?

False Alarm

My eye appointments are in Durham, NC, at the Duke Eye Center.

I live in Garner, NC. That is 32 miles away.

My appointment was at 9:45am.

It was pouring rain so we decided to give ourselves plenty of time and leave at 8:45.  An hour to get there.  We thought if we got there early, we would just stop at the coffee shop in the lobby.

The rain wreaked havoc on the city.  Honestly, I don't know that I will ever get used to this.  It's only rain people! 

But there we were on I-40 just sitting.  Then we saw ambulances trying to get through. We were at a complete standstill.

Firetrucks, police, and ambulances.  This meant a bad accident up ahead, or at least we thought so.

We sat in the traffic so long that I was convinced we were not going to make it.  And we didn't.

We finally began to move at 9:30am. I called the doctor's office at Duke.  I told them we were at least 30 minutes away.  Can I still come in?  Nope.  So they rescheduled me for next Monday.  Great, let's hope it's a sunny day.

I don't understand why I couldn't come in.  They always make me wait. They always are at least 30 minutes behind, so I thought I'd just let them know I was running late and they would be okay. But apparently not how it works.

It could be worse. I could have been in that accident, and I hope all are well.

So instead of healing today, I am cleaning bathrooms and making chili.

Oh yeah, I think that is better, she says with dripping sarcasm. 

Eye Injections

Hungry!

I hate this meme because it is too damn true for me.  

Today, Wednesday,  I had to have blood work done at LabCorp.

I had a 3pm appointment.

I ate an egg salad sandwich at 4pm on Tuesday.  I never ate anything else.

I made Rick dinner, and I just wasn't that hungry.  

I woke up starving, and I walked down the hall thinking of scrambled eggs.

Then I remembered I was told not to eat or drink coffee. 

Fasting for 12 hours was required.

I should have stuffed myself the night before. I wasn't thinking, darn it.

At 10am on Wednesday, I could eat my arm off.  So I kept looking at the clock. Dear Lord, I wanted some caffeine.  Rick made himself some waffles. I don't even care about waffles, but the smell was intoxicating when you haven't eaten in 15 hours and all you had the day before was an egg salad sandwich.   

Finally, I grabbed my purse and said, 'I'm going to see if they take walk-ins.'

I arrived to see a full waiting room.  I told the receptionist that I had a 3pm appointment, but was hoping, as a walk-in, I could get in sooner. 

She took my info and said, Okay, have a seat. Then she called me back up.

No record of my lab request.  I gave my ID etc. In the meantime, she told me to check in at the kiosk.  

The kiosk told me I couldn't check in.  So back to the counter.

She was really struggling to find me.  Aaah, it's under Peggy.  All medical insurance and all important papers are in my full legal name, Margaret. She asked for my birthdate and then asked if I was related to a Peggy H.  Why, yes, that is me.  So I had to explain that my doctor, whose name is also Margaret, prefers to call me Peggy, so I go with it. I'm called both.  Everyone seems to have a preference, and I don't care one way or the other now that I am an adult. (well, sort of) 

She found me and changed it for insurance reasons, so next time I'll have no issues.

Then I was told to take a seat.

There was 1 seat left. I sat down, and it's now 11:45a.  

I got there at 11am.  A woman came to the lobby and announced that they would be going to lunch at noon.  All appointments will be finished, and those who are walk-ins, if you were not called, please come back at 1pm.  

I just felt defeated, I don't wanna go home was what I was whining in my head. 

I want coffee, damn it!!!

Immediately after I whined to myself, I was called. Whew.

I came home and made a big ole cup of coffee. I then heated up 2 meatballs from the other day. I wolfed them down. Then I sat with my coffee, and all was good with the world. For a few minutes anyway.

Falling but I Can Get Up

Oops, I did it again!

This time I fell ON my face.

I broke my new glasses.

I was putting on my panties.  I was in the bathroom. Brushing teeth, getting dressed, etc.  I was bent over putting one foot into the leg hole, and I got dizzy again, and I fell forward into the wall, face-first.  OUCH.  

I pushed myself away from the wall, shook it off, laughed, and finished dressing.  I have a goose egg, and my glasses are a hot mess.  I was hurrying because I wanted to get this stuff outside into the garbage on garbage day. I was just throwing on a baseball cap and figured I would do my hair and makeup later when I was leaving the house.

I have a nice goose egg on my head. I don't know how, though. I hit the wall with my face, but my head at my hairline has a nice bruise too.

Yes, I am seeing a doctor about this. It's been in the works for a long time.

Waiting to get in.  I get dizzy a lot, and I have to grab something until it's over. I am also nauseated most days, and I even throw up on some days.

 

On this particular day, I didn't have a chance to grab anything as one leg was in the air and the other was planted firmly on the ground. 

It's all kind of funny to me. So much so that I took my 4th selfie and showed my mom. I said, "you think anyone will notice my glasses are broken?"

Her first comment was I looked like I lost weight then she proceeded to be concerned. She does make me laugh. I haven't lost an ounce but it made me laugh!  I needed that.

As you know, I am clumsy. Iron on my boob, falling down steps that required surgery, only I can get a torn meniscus when going down on one knee in GENTLE Yoga.

The list is long. But now that I'm old, this is a concern.  God, how I hate being old. 

Am I going to be relegated to sitting activities? Say it ain't so!

Is that why you see seniors playing bingo and painting ceramic items that someone else made? I can't do those things. Sure, I've played drinking bingo, but this is the boring bingo. Nope, not for me.

But then neither is walking and standing, it appears.

Holy shit, this is crazy.  

I am certain there is a reason.  'They' think it's a side effect of one of my medications. I am seeing that doctor next Tuesday, so I hope to find out. I've had brain scans, CT scans, MRIs, and everything else you can think of.

Nothing appears to be wrong. I just get terribly dizzy daily, and sometimes I fall, and I have morning sickness all day. What could be wrong with that? 

Rick has suggested that he put me in bubble wrap.  I don't think that it is as necessary as he thinks it is. But there are days I do wonder.

I got dizzy while in Wegman's the other day (grocery store), and I had my cart to hold on to. I moved to the side and waited it out. All was good. The nausea passed, and I was no longer dizzy, so on I went to buy food.

Can I live with this? Not really. I've taken to only wearing flat sneakers. Nothing with a heel or platform.  

My entire life has been heels of some sort or platforms because I am short.

Even sneakers have a platform.

It's weird to wear flat shoes all the time. 

Another reminder that I am an old fart.  

While I do hate it, I don't wish to die from falling off my shoes. 

That would so be my luck, and then I couldn't tell you the funny story of how the hell that happened.

Naked

God made me chubby so I would keep my clothes on.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

I do not like to wear clothes. Could I live in a nudist colony? Hell no.

Never, even if I looked like a supermodel. 

But I do like to be unencumbered by clothing.

When I was a younger woman and I was living with Rick, he got very upset one day when he came home to find me cleaning naked because he brought a friend home with him.  

Thankfully, I had time to run down the hall to put on clothes.  Whew.

Rick was not happy with me. He asked if he had to ring the bell or knock first at his own home.  I said if I'm naked, I won't answer.  We didn't have cell phones back then, so I had to wear some clothing in case he brought someone home.

When I was 23 and married to my first husband, Rick (Rick #1), I was ironing in my panties only.  It was a Saturday and he had to work. I cleaned and then began to iron.  The ironing board began to fold as I was ironing. I moved forward to grab everything, and the iron landed on my left breast, and I heard the sizzle. You never forget the sizzle sound.

Oooooh, it hurt. 

I immediately went into the bathroom for cold water and to look through my medical creams and ointments for a burn.  By the time Rick #1 came home, it had formed a very clear picture of the iron, the point, and each steam hole.  He insisted I go to the ER.  I said Oh, sure and tell them what exactly when they asked what I did.  Tell them you were ironing. Then laughing, he said, but I think they will know from just looking at your boob.  Great. 

He was insistent I go to the ER. So I got dressed, putting on a bra was painful for my left boob. On the way to the hospital, he says to me, "I know you wish you were flat-chested, but ironing it is not the way to do it."  

And he bursts into laughter.  I even laughed.  Oh brother, I'm an idiot. I will be abused for this for a long, long time. 

Oh no, the ER doc couldn't have been an old guy.  Nope, a young, cute one.

He took one look at my boob and looked at me, and I said to him, "This is going to be an ER story, isn't it?"  

He said, "Oh of course not, we've seen worse."  I didn't believe him.

To this cute young doctor, this was a bad burn.  I had the lecture.

I got creams and Rx for this.

He told me what to expect.  He suggested I keep it covered if I must wear a bra. He told me that the rubbing of the lace or fabric on the bra would be painful, and other assorted things I really didn't want to hear. 

But that's all my ex, Rick, had to hear: it's better not to wear a bra. 

On the way home, I had to listen to the logic on no bra and that a 2nd degree burn isn't anything to take lightly.  yeah yeah yeah

I never ironed naked again.  I also don't walk around naked anymore for fear of who's going to knock on my door. And btw, it did not leave a scar. The cute young doctor who said to do all these steps and it wouldn't scar was right. 

Rick says he's being punished for what the first guy said. So no naked Tuesdays for me.  Nope, it's because a higher power decided the only way this gal will keep her clothes on is if I make her chubby.  😁 So he did.

Not Making That Bed

 Actual Conversation in our Home.

Why did you take the sheets out of the dryer and throw them on the bed?

Why not put them ON the bed, Rick? Or perhaps fold them?

I was leaving that for you.  I didn't want you to feel left out.

I would never feel left out.  I do feel like I could kill you, though. 

I think you could have done more than throw them on the bed.

Be careful, you watch enough Dateline to know it's always the spouse.

Or her lover. So you be careful, mister

Are you trying to tell me something?

I giggled and left the room - I'll be damn if I am making that bed!

Best Advice

 It's been a week since my last confession.

HA. That is from my Catholic upbringing, and I can assure you, if you didn't get that line, you are lucky because you didn't have 12 years of catechism.

Rick and I were enjoying the evening on the patio when the discussion of the best advice ever given came up.  I asked Rick what the best advice anyone had given him was.  He immediately said his father gave him 2 - 

*When hired, do more than what they're paying you for.

*Always use the best tools you can afford.  

He laughed and asked if my dad had given me any advice. He laughed like crazy after he asked this, knowing full well there would be no good advice from my father. Nope, not my dad.  I had to really think about this. 

I couldn't think of any mentor, boss, friend, acquaintance, etc. Then I remembered my mom telling me something before she died. 

I smiled and Rick said, "Think of something?"  

Yes, but I'm not sure you could call it advice.

I reminded him of me telling him that when my mom was dying, I was home alone with her. She was bedridden at the time. I was sitting on her bed with her. I was 13. I remember the smell of the room, her skin, and how I felt. 

It is so vivid. If only I could remember where my keys and phone are like I remember this day.

On this day, my mom told me all she wanted to tell me before she left this world. It was a lot, and I cried through most of it, but I remember every single thing she said.

This one thing to me is like advice.

My mom was holding my hand and told me to always respect my father, but when he tells you that you can't do something because you're a girl, don't listen to him.  I want you to believe in here (as she hit her chest) that you can do anything you want to do. So don't talk back to him, but always remember he is wrong on this topic.  You can be anything, Peggy, remember that. She said it 3x while rubbing my hand. She asked me if I understood, and I said I did. 

Now that is no big deal to most. But if you knew my father, it is a huge deal.

You see, to him, I had the lovely choices of being a nun, a secretary, a nurse, or a teacher. Then I was to get married and have babies and not work outside the home. Cater to a man.  He actually told me once that I would find great fulfillment in taking care of a man. HA, fulfillment.

Oh, that is so not Peg.

Rick asked if I thought that was really advice?  

Yep, I do.  As a teen, when Dad would say my head was in the clouds or that this wasn't for girls. I would prove him wrong. I never disrespected him, but if I could find a workaround, I would show him I could do this. I had to walk a fine line. So yes, I do think that advice has served me well. I won't let anyone tell me what I can and can't do. I am not fighting authority per se, but as soon as you tell me it's not for a woman, I'll show you you're wrong. Until I was 41, I was always respectful of my father.  I never said anything I wanted to say.  I kept it inside. If you did try to talk to him about this stuff, he would shut down, so I just let it go. 

At 41, my father told me I was a disappointment. We (Rick and I) were celebrating a big success I had with my career. Rick was so proud of me. My personal cheerleader.  My father belittled him and said, "so now she wears the  pants in the family?"  

Rick just laughed.  Then my father said, "if she's making that kind of money, then you are the henpecked-something or another  - I don't recall his bullshit. I do recall the word henpecked though.

Rick said, "George I don't care how the money gets in the house, just so it gets in the house. I am damn proud of her; she's worked her butt off for this, and you, too, should be proud of her. I'm her cheerleader and you should be too."

He huffed.

Later, when my stepmom and Rick were on the patio, my father said to me that I wasn't really a woman because I didn't have children, and I put my career ahead of children and my marriage.  I lost it on him!  I started by telling him I didn't wish to be disrespectful, but he was being disrespectful to me. Then off I went.  Never was this discussed again.

But the whole time he was telling me this garbage, I kept hearing my mom in my head telling me, Don't listen to him, you can be whatever you want to be, Peggy.  I may have lost one cheerleader, but I got another one, thank goodness.

What is the best advice anyone has ever given you?

You Asked For It -

This lovely gadget is what Rick has been using for his foot pain and drop foot.

The round thing in the top middle is the button that turns it on and off. 

It allows you to set the frequency and will change the vibrations. It is digital. It can knead, provide tens stimulation, or use a pounding type vibration.  All feel like electrical shocks. He began on #4 and now uses #9 so he is definitely getting used to it.

Week 2 has begun, and as I reported, this has alleviated his severe foot pain. It's made him so much easier to be around when he's not in pain. Aren't we all?

Can we say acetaminophen?

Baseball and Drugs

Well, that didn't hurt; in fact, it felt great. We won! 

I say that as though I were playing shortstop. (which if I played that would be my preference)

Rick went to bed.  He was so exhausted, he did a lot yesterday.

I, on the other hand, couldn't even sit still. Or as my father used to tell me, "Sit still, have you got ants in your pants?"  Actually, dad I do.  I said that once as a retort, and he said the ole, "Oh, you never mind" 

Whatever that is to mean.

The game started at 8pm.  As I do, I was recording it.  

I missed the first few innings while Rick was awake.  He really wanted to watch something else, and I didn't feel like moving my fat butt into another room.  He kept saying he was tired and wanted to go to bed early. And he did, so I could pace.

He went to bed, and I watched from the beginning, and I caught up since I could FF  through the commercials. Normally, he will say, "Let's watch the game,"  But when it's Boston, he gets annoyed with me, so he'd rather not watch with me. 

One time, he told me it was like trying to sit on my hands while I talked. 

If I can't use my hands, he thinks I can't speak.  (I can, but it makes me laugh because I am so focused on not using my hands)  

When Boston and New York play one another, I can't sit still. It's that simple.

My tummy is jumping up and down as I am physically.

I drive Rick crazy in a multitude of ways, but it drives him nuts when I rock in my chair and when I have to pace around the room during a game.  

So off to bed he went, and on went the game. 

I paced like a 1950s expectant father.

If I sat, I found myself rocking or my legs kicking since they don't touch the floor.  I can't sit still when the Yankees play the Red Sux, err Sox.  

Look, if there are 162 games in a season and the NYY play the Red Sox 10 times. I am fine with losing all 152 games except those 10. Ridiculous right?  I just hate Boston, so we had to beat them, and we did, in a glorious way.

Now on to Toronto.  Well, I do think this will be a helluva lot tougher to win.

Both of these teams have identical records of wins and losses. 

Back in '93, I went to Toronto to watch the final game of the World Series. 

It was heaven.  My seats were so high up that it felt like I was in the clouds.

But I was rooting for Toronto, and they won.  I will always root for an American League Team over the National League unless it's Boston. There's a theme there, isn't there?

Okay, in other news.

If you recall, Rick has to take a blood thinner to prevent more strokes. 

It was over $800 a month if I got a 90-day supply.  Yikes. I asked the doctor for another choice of blood thinners.  He hooked me up with the WakeMed (hospital) pharmacy. He told us that WakeMed has a contract with the makers of Xarelto, and we would only have to pay $15.34 for 90 days.  

TAKE IT!

I got a call from the pharmacy last week. They stated that they lost their contract with Johnson and Johnson (Xarelto makers), and it was now $834 for a 30-day supply if I got 90 days.  Got that? Sneaky little shits. 

Did I wish to fill this? Oh dear Lord.  I said not at this time.  I knew we had a 1.5-week supply.  I had to do some homework. But she beat me to it.

The pharmacy person who called to alert me of this suggested I speak to someone from WakeMed Financial Assistance program.  Oh my.  I'm in that spot in my life.  Okay, I tell her. She gives me the number to call.

This very nice woman, whom I will call E, was so very good at customer service.  She was kind, helpful, and patient with all of my questions.

She told me there were 2 programs. One is a savings program, if we can qualify, and one is a free option if we qualify.  I told her, guess which one I'd like to try for?  She laughed and said, "Okay, let's shoot for that first."

I had a ton of homework.  I had to make copies of our income, our benefits, our coverage with Medicare and our supplemental insurance, our Rx benefits, notes from the doctor, etc I had documents all over the floor. I scanned, I downloaded, I emailed. Then I prayed. 

I sent them to WakeMed and then Johnson and Johnson.  

Yesterday, we were approved for the free program.  The only good thing about being poor, I guess.  Now Rick is back on his blood thinner and just in time.

Johnson and Johnson also called me to explain the program.  While I did receive all that info from E at WakeMed, I pretended this was all new, and I listened.  The least I could do is give my undivided attention if I am receiving this for free, right?  

J & J said this would last until the end of December 2025. I said, "Oh no."  

She said to hold on, and she laughed. We will extend this to December 2026 since you filled out the paperwork with only 2 months to go.  Whew.  I told her that was great news. She laughed and said, I know doing all that again so soon would be a royal pain. We won't make you do it again until the end of 2026.  She told us she would contact us, along with WakeMed, to begin the process for next year.  

So we got very lucky again.  I am so damn thankful.

Rick takes a lot of medications. Most are at a tolerable price, but it adds up.

$2,400 for one Rx for 3 months is just crazy. (with insurance, mind you)

One more update you didn't ask for.

Rick has drop foot since the stroke. Along with the inability to lift that left foot forward so he can walk correctly, he has a great deal of pain in his feet.

He read about this thing that could help him. He sent it to me to read. I did. I didn't think it would work, but I've got to give him hope.

It was a money-back guarantee, so what the hell.

Rick received this flat mat that had a knob on the top.  He plugged it in to start with a full charge.  He read all the directions, as did I.

The first night, he put his feet on this pad and did as he was told in the directions. It's a lot like a TENS unit.  It seems to send shocks to his nerve endings to apparently wake them up in his foot/leg.  After his foot he decided to do it on his left hand, which is also always in a lot of pain.

He is to do this 2x a day.  The first morning after he did this 2x he awoke to no pain when walking. He was delighted but wondered if it would last all day.  It's been one week now.  He has no pain in his feet. Can he walk correctly?  Nope.  But maybe in time. As for his hand, it hurts less.  Less is better than nothing he proclaimed.

We were told it will take months. So if this is after only 1 week, we both have hope.  I told Rick he may never walk like he did before, but to be without pain is so wonderful. He agrees.  Every step he takes has been painful, and he just lives with it and also doesn't wish to walk if he doesn't have to.  I get it, but it also makes our world so small. (I know it's not about me!)

Hopefully, he will continue to be without pain, and even better if he can walk a bit better as well. 

Here's to a great and sunny weekend, everybody.