Plodding along

A lackluster update from greater Palm Springs, as I continue my second week here.

Since the last post, I've had one day dealing with a relatively lucid Dad for most of the day before the confusion about where he was set in again. That came after he had a long sleep, which I imagine helped matters. Yesterday, though, we were back to bouncing around in time. He asked me how school was going, referencing things from my high school years, and was a bit surprised to hear that I graduated a long time ago. He seemed to get that I lived in Seattle now, but also thought we were in Tucson and that I was "home" for a while.

I tried—successfully, I think—to engage him with some old photos; he has a few displayed on a cork board here of old family gatherings from his childhood, so I asked him who everybody was, and as that's not a short-term memory, he was on the ball for it. Knew everyone, knew how they were related, all that, but didn't know when the pictures were taken or what the event was that had him, his dad, and his brothers decked out in white tuxedos. But that was good. His eye caught on some other photos of people from much more recently and things went downhill a bit, he didn't remember names of some (and they were of people I never met, so I was no help).

Today I had to be up early with him as Marty had to go to a medical appointment for himself and do some other things, so I groggily hung out with him and fielded queries about how long the drive back to Tucson was and what the route would be; who was joining us on the trip; and where we were stopping for lunch on the way. There were also many urgent requests to find the flyers to put in the mail and concerns about whether or not any of the furniture had to be returned somewhere before we left. Also, just now he asked me what my mom was doing today, which is like kicking a dude when he's down. Sigh.

On the other hand, mobility has been good for a few days straight now, only mild dizziness and no big vertigo spells.

I gave up on the bedrail after my ingenious improvisations worked, but not well enough to justify having bought the damn thing. I took it apart and sent it back. Marty bought it from the hated Amazon, which though contributing to the rise of evil and predatory corporate rule does mean returns are super easy. Disassembling the damn thing was easier than assembling it, but we'd already tossed out the packaging in the recycling, so hopefully there won't be any issue with the refund. One of the problems was it didn't ship with all of its parts, so again, hopefully they won't be jerks about it. I ordered a replacement in a different model, making sure to check ALL the specs this time. :-)

Meanwhile, I keep doing things to aggravate my sprained wrist, so that's probably still going to take a couple more weeks to heal. Straining it trying to carry heavy grocery items is one thing, but you don't realize how many wrist tendons are in play when you brush your teeth or use certain tools until you drop the toothbrush/tool because you've inadvertently moved at just the right angle for it to HURT LIKE FUCK.

Anyway.

While out on an errand today I noticed the prices at the gas pumps were 50¢ to $1 more than when I last filled up on the way down in Victorville. I've not been paying as much attention to the news, so for the moment I can only imagine it's because President Felon Dumbass escalated his war somehow at his hatefest "convention," where he also apparently tried to bribe voters and asked his supporters to cheat in the midterms. Add those to the ever-expanding list of crimes committed by Felon47 and abetted by Republicans in Congress and two-thirds of the Supreme Court. Alas.

For my few readers of Star Trek reviews, I will have one for Strange New Worlds 408, "Orders of Magnitude," in a day or two. It's less gimmicky than the rest of the season and therefore doesn't suck, but it is derivative as hell and has some missteps. Might be the best ep of the season, though.