February 22, 2005

  • It wouldn’t have been so rough, if only….

    It was Monday, January 24, and Doug was using the computer when
    suddenly it went to the blue screen and a message that said, “cannot
    write to drive C.”  When he tried restarting it, the message was,
    “operating system not found.”  That wasn’t very scary at the
    time.  It had happened before.  It happened every month or
    two, and after half a dozen or so power cycles, the silly thing would
    find its OS and boot up okay.

    I left to take my car over to the neighborhood mechanic so he could
    look it over and see what parts he’d need to fix it for
    me.  The main thing I needed (to operate legally) was a headlight
    lens so that the bulbs wouldn’t keep going out.  My plan was to
    get an oil change, tune-up, and such, while he had it.  He looked
    it over, took notes on what parts he’d need, and penciled me in for
    Saturday, told me he’d call when he was ready for me to bring the car
    over.  On the way
    home, I stopped at the mailbox.

    There was a pickup notice for a knife shipment Greyfox had been expecting.  I’ve already written about the subsequent rush trip to town
    to deliver his knives and pick up the unwanted kitten.  While I
    had been visiting Ray the mechanic, Doug had tired himself out trying
    to power up the computer, so when we got home he fired up the
    PS2.  I tried the computer once myself and then let it rest. 
    Electronic equipment around here has a history of going down and then
    fixing itself, so I wasn’t too worried yet.

    Two days later, by Wednesday, we were both getting tired of trying to
    power up the computer only to have it fail to find its OS.  I
    wanted to make some jewelry, but each time I stood up and started
    looking for some particular component or tool, I’d get out of breath
    and shaky-legged before I found it.  When Doug was sleeping, I had
    the PS2 all to myself, but would have preferred the computer.  I
    was antsy, restless, and because of the breathing difficulties and
    fatigue, practically helpless.

    We spent a couple of days discussing whether it would be better to go
    back to the same tech who had replaced our hard drive twice already, or
    find someone closer to home.  On the one hand, that hard drive was
    still under warranty, so we’d only have to pay him for labor.  On the
    other hand, what if he just gave us another hard drive that would fail
    before its warrany expired, as the last two had.  I tried to convince
    Doug that he should talk to the computer medic because he’d been using
    it when it crashed.  My hidden agenda there was an attempt to get him
    to go beyond his shyness and make a phone call.   He procrastinated.

    I read a lot, finished several interesting books and started half a
    dozen or so that didn’t hold my interest.  Having to spend so much
    time on my butt wouldn’t have been so rough if I’d had the TV, but
    getting it working would have been more than the simple matter of
    repairing the antenna wire Doug broke while shoveling snow from the
    roof last winter.  This winter, a heavy snow load had brought down
    the antenna itself.  It was too cold outside to even consider
    finding another skinny tree to cut for an antenna mast. 

    That cold was another matter.  Down to minus 30 outside, we had a
    hard time keeping it above fifty in here.  Dressed in more layers
    than I usually have to wear when going outdoors, I watched a few of the
    videos Greyfox had brought me, which hadn’t seemed interesting enough
    to view previously.  Some of them proved to be so bad I only
    watched a few minutes of each.  Others, I watched all the way
    through and then asked myself why I had.  When even that sorry lot
    was exhausted, I started listening to public radio.  That wouldn’t
    have been so rough, if only the news and the talk shows hadn’t been
    either inane and boring or horrible and horrifying. 

    By Thursday the 26th, the morning I had to call Greyfox to tell me what
    day it was because without my computer I was totally lacking in
    temporal referents, I gave up and called the computer medic.  He
    said he’d make a house call on Saturday morning.

    Friday was my worst day in years.  I couldn’t move around without
    getting short of breath.  It was so cold outside that letting Koji
    out onto his chain took my breath away.  The fibro fog on my brain
    was thick, and a sinus infection that had been building for days had
    finally erupted into a horrific headache.  That wouldn’t have been
    so rough, but between the time Doug went to bed that morning and I got
    up, the PS2 had stopped working.  He’d been having some problems
    with it recognizing his new memory card and with it reading a few of
    the game disks, but it worked within limits.  For me, it wouldn’t
    read any disk and it suddenly wouldn’t recognize my memory card,
    either.  I tried to use the older PS2, the one with the weak laser
    unit that wouldn’t read some of the game disks, and it too wouldn’t
    work at all.

    The next morning, the computer medic did not show.  An hour after
    the appointed time, I called him.  He said he couldn’t make it
    because he had to pick up someone at the airport.  Maybe so, but I
    think it might have been just too cold for him to want to drive up the
    valley. He said he would be here two days later, on Monday.  
    Ray, the mechanic, didn’t call.  When I called him he said he’d
    been tied up with an emergency job for someone else and could probably
    get to my car by Tuesday.  He said that when he was ready, he’d
    come over and get the car.

    The following day, Sunday, was the day Doug shot the moose.  The
    warmer weather and a lot of albuterol helped with the fibro and
    breathing problems, and the sinus infection minimized my olfactory
    exposure to the guts and gore.  Koji and I were both shaky from
    adrenaline letdown even before Dancing Bear got here to start
    butchering the moose.  Doug’s reaction set in a bit later.

    Monday, an hour or so after the appointed time, the computer medic
    showed up, ran his diagnostics and took the tower away with him. 
    He said he’d bring it back, “maybe tomorrow (Tuesday), but probably not
    until Wednesday.” 

    Tuesday, Ray called and asked if my car would start (it was cold again
    by then, so that was a valid concern).  I plugged in the engine
    heater for a while, started it, and called Ray back to tell him it was
    warming up.  He gave it a little time to warm up, then his wife
    dropped him off here and he took my car back with him.

    My mind kept replaying the scene of Koji going down screaming under the
    moose’s hooves.  When awake, Koji seemed anxious.  He was
    clingy, didn’t want to go out.  When I was sitting down, his head
    was in my lap.  When I was up, he was beside me.  When he
    slept, he thrashed around, moaned and cried out in his sleep. 
    Doug was restless, walking around the house with glassy eyes,
    occasionally saying, “I killed a moose,” in an incredulous tone, or
    with a shake of his head, “one shot to the lungs, one in the
    head.”  This continued for three or four days.

    On Wednesday, Ray called and said the parts clerk had given him the
    wrong parts and he couldn’t get the right ones for a day or two. 
    He asked when I needed to go to town and I told him I had been
    scheduled to go Thursday, but had already called the rehab ranch and
    told them I wouldn’t make it.  That evening,  I tried calling
    the computer tech and got his machine.  I left a message, which he
    hadn’t returned by the next day.

    On Thursday, the PS2 started working again.  Gotta love that
    technological faith healing talent.  That took some of the tension
    out of the atmosphere around here.

    I knew better than to bug Ray about the car.  It would be done
    when it was done and that was that.  I was just hoping it would be
    done before we ran out of water.

    The computer guy was another matter.  He wasn’t returning my calls, so I kept leaving messages for him. 

    On Sunday February 6th, I got the car back.  Doug and I loaded up
    the buckets and jugs and went to the spring for water.  I was
    short of breath before we left home, just from loading the car in temps
    in the minus twenties.  I carried a load of empties down to the
    spring and got such a severe asthma attack from the cold air and mild
    exertion that I told Doug he’d have to do the filling and the schlepping. 

    I got back in the car and used my albuterol “rescue”
    inhaler.   It wasn’t working.  I couldn’t breathe deep
    enough or hold it long enough for it to do any good.  My ears were
    ringing and my vision going black.  My bladder let go and I pissed
    myself before the meds took hold and I started breathing again.  I
    told Doug to just fill a few jugs to get us by a couple of days. 
    I was hoping the weather would warm up and I’d be feeling better. 
    By the time he’d loaded up the jugs he’d filled, I was okay to
    drive.  That kid has got to get a driver’s license!

    The next day, Monday, a week after the computer guy had taken my
    machine and five days after he’d said he’d bring it back, I got his
    answering machine again.  Early the next morning, I called his
    wife’s business number.  He works out of their home, where she
    also runs a preschool.  I explained to her that I’d been trying to
    reach him, and she put him on.  He said his software was scanning,
    recovering my data, “even as we speak.”  He said it would be done,
    “probably tomorrow.”  Days went by.  Again, he wouldn’t
    return my calls. 

    By Friday, I was desperate enough about the increased breathing
    difficulty to call the local clinic and see if they’d had any response
    to my application for patient assistance from the pharmaceutical
    manufacturer, for a longer-acting inhaler, Advair.  They told me
    that their new “Needy Meds” system was all fouled up and it was taking
    as long as three months to get new applications through.  They
    said they’d added prescriptions to their sliding fee system, and I
    could get the inhaler I needed for only $15.  They were open on
    Saturday, but I was too sick to go up there for the meds.  On
    Monday, Valentine’s Day, Greyfox came up from Wasilla and drove up to
    the clinic near Talkeetna and got my meds.

    Within a couple of days, I was breathing a lot better, and by now I
    have adjusted my dosage and eliminated most of the bad side-effects.

    And that brings us up to date here.

    **WHEW!**

    What’s next?

Comments (9)

  • Maybe God’s telling you to move to town.

  • Yeah, right, town, that place where the air is so polluted with hydrocarbons outdoors and with perfumes and cleaning products indoors that I have to fortify myself with drugs before I go in and need almost a week to recover after I get out of it.

  • you could move back to kansas. 

    i’m glad you went to the clinic, but you probably already know that.  i’m sorry you’ve had such a sucky winter this year.
    but don’t ask what’s next!!!  it’s like an invitation to the “wellll, how ’bout THIS?” gods.

  • Perhaps a warmer spot out in the middle of nowhere?  These days I’m eying a cozy little patch of south western desert, myself. 

    Glad you’re doing better.  Hope the moose was tasty.

  • You’ve had a helluva time lately, haven’t you?!?!  (she states the patently obvious )  I’m glad you got your computer back and that you made it through the moose incident and the asthma attack

  • What bugs me is why you live in Alaska if you know you’re gonna be having asthma attacks? >_< Think about living somewhere warmer or something where going outside isn’t a health hazard. :(  Maybe you could also keep showing Koji the spot where the moose is and reassure him with words that there is no danger. Poor thing :( And maybe you can do the same for Doug too lol

  • what’s next?  I hope a healthy car, computer and you!

  • Wow – sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it the past few weeks. Hopefully, “what’s next” is better things coming your way.

  • Hi sweety!  Wiow, I got tired out just READING that, I and I already knew it.  Sigh.  Warm weather’s coming!

    I forget what I wanted to mention, so I’m outta here.

    No news in ADN about the peripatetic penis.

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