Dealing with dilemmas during one's dotage. Saturday, August 30, 2014 Indianapolis 13th & Delaware

 Number one problem solved today, with history and explanation:

The window air conditioner I bought from the previous tenant, ($150.00) which heretofore worked wonderfully and spewed more cold air than a body could want, all  at the touch of a button, recently developed an annoying flaw.
Ten days ago water began leaking from the bottom of the A/C and running over the sill, down the white wall and onto the floor under the window. Ugly, rusty, icky water. I washed the wall, took the machine apart as much as I could and peered into its guts. After intently staring into its innards for a while, I put the front and the filter back where they had come from and turned it on. Water dripped even more profusely. It has been very humid, not to mention hot as hell, here. Thus much much water.

Searching for a solution, I rummaged through my meager supplies of stuff to no avail. Eventually I went to the Salvation Army used stuff store at College and Washington Streets and bought a small green bowl that fit perfectly under the drip . Photos later.

This bowl worked perfectly. For 20 minutes. Every 20 minutes it had to be emptied. It was like having an old fashioned icebox again, only in reverse, I guess. This made me very happy. I set the microwave timer for 20 minutes to remind me and carried on.  However...

Nighttime became a problem. Nighttime is the only time I really care a lot about being cool. The  difficulty of dumping the green bowl every 20 minutes all night long immediately became  obvious. So I had to turn the A/C off at night. Not good.
Then, this morning, came enlightenment.   Sometimes, a picture is worth a thousand words...

Voila!

The air conditioner

The green bowl 

The microwave timer

The enlightenment

Moving on.

I have been whining for months about feeling weak, tired, clumsy, yada yada yada. Just ask Kelly and Chris. Yeah I had a stroke, but I should be better by now, right?! blah blah blah.

Finally, action. This past week I had doctor's appointments every day--within 10 minutes of the apartment.  All at IU Health Care. Nice place. In the area of the old Methodist Hospital. My old stomping ground too.

Urologist Nurse Practitioner, female, for long standing urinary tract problem. Diagnosis: neurogenic bladder  flaccid or hypotonic type. Bladder retaining up to 500 ml after voiding. This allowed bacteria to breed and grow in the stagnant urine. Solution: Self catheterization at home to empty bladder. Drop off a specimen whenever I feel the need to check for bacteria. Remember the 10 minute distance.  

Primary Care Doc, 2nd year resident, female, also at IU. Ten minutes away, free parking. She is searching diligently for cause of weakness etc. Blood drawn ad infinitum and heart sonography ordered. Also, she tells me I am not too fat as the heft helps keep my bones strong. ;-) I don't actually buy that, but it goes a long way toward making me love her. Plan: Return in 3 weeks to check all the test results and determine what next to investigate. Residents are strongly fixated on solving problems. I like that in a doctor.

PT: great. Twice a week.  Making progress in balance. Working on vestibular  system, which testing indicates is my weak area. PT is at the Neurology Center at IU and they have some pretty nifty sophisticated devices to test deficits. Ten minutes away also.

Dr. K, my longtime shrink, is off until the end of September recovering from orthopedic surgery. I will see her then to assess the possibility that all the weakness stuff is from depression.  As in, in my head.  Possibly my Prozac is not managing. I will have to pay her cash money, at $150.00 hour, but she's worth it. 

I have paints, canvases, brushes, a printer, a scanner, a room of my own and a friend down the hall. 

I live in an apartment building that has a 'super' just like those Seinfeld folks and the Mad About You couple. I always thought that would be cool. "Call the super."   He is a tiny bit feeble and can't hear a thing, but he is the super.

And my  building has a Boiler Room. It is down in the basement where the super lives. He lives at the other end of a long hallway that I have no desire to explore. I go as far as the Laundry Room with its 1950s machines. Three each, often on the fritz, but it all fits the ambiance.  There are two tenants in the basement.

There is original stained glass in the building's front facade. Constructed in the 1940s.

Unfortunately, the drains are also from the 40s. so I see maintenance the man (not the super) about twice a week so he can make my bathtub-drain drain to my satisfaction. But, on the up side, he is a nice man.

Acknowledgements:

 Lyndon for Medicare. 

 Wendall for BS/BS supplemental insurance. 

McDonald's for their Styrofoam cup.

Ellie and Russ for the microwave.

Linda for the scissors with which I cut the Styrofoam cup.

Al for the internet.

All errors are my own. I've proofread this darn thing 13 times and I'm done.

No Thanks to the spell-check on here. It refuses to recognize all medical words in addition to most of the normal ones.