Sunday, June 18, 2006
Oh, for a catheter
I feel like lollygagging today (Gram's word for lying around doing nothing). My idea of lollygagging is naked in bed with a book, something tasty to drink, lots of water and my laptop for those inspirational moments. However, imbibing all that fluid means frequent trips to the bathroom and that means putting down the laptop, book or rousing myself from a comfortable doze (and probably a sensuous erotic dream), thus the need for a catheter. If they only didn't mean infections and pain when you roll over them and twist them around your legs, not to mention the logistics of gravity drainage when it's a straight line from the bed, through the door, around two corners and into the toilet, since I do not want to have to empty the bag later -- or sooner with my current output -- defeating the whole not getting out of bed for the rest of the day idea. Aah, the trials and tribulations of truly lollygagging for a while day.
Yesterday I was quite industrious. I did almost all the laundry, cleaned the bathroom and most of the dishes and finished a book I needed to read. I also got some sun, as evidenced by the pinkish-brown coloring both arms now and a bit of my shins where the sun actually reached while I sat outside the laundry room reading. When the last load was in the dryer and the landlady had just finished her last customer, she appeared on the deck, hands cramped into claws, and asked if I'd like a glass of wine, Shiraz, to be exact. I thanked her, gathered up my books and went through the gate and up onto the deck. Deciding she was also peckish, the landlady went into the kitchen, peeled a couple hard boiled eggs and wrapped Swiss cheese and turkey slices in endive and invited me to share. I agreed to that, too. We chatted about books and men and all things to do with being single and free to travel, although she is a bit more encumbered than I, having Pastor, and I offered to share my dinner with her -- Mexican grilled chicken taco salad with a chili lime vinaigrette. She agreed. Later that evening I assembled the salad and brought the skinless thighs down and grilled them on her new grill, which is getting quite a bit of use since she got it three weeks ago.
In between cleaning and laundry I also gave in and watched the rest of the second DVD of Lost. I would truly hate to have watched this on commercial TV with all the ads, but I am glad I finally gave in and decided to watch. The show is an amazing mix of magic, relationships, the intricacies of the human heart and psyche, and excellent writing, exactly what one would associate with David Fury, who also wrote Angel, Dream On and episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and 24. The man has a gift. I can't wait to get the next two DVDs in the first season and I may just download the other episodes from ISOHunt or possibly watch them online (ABC offers free viewings). I'm hooked. And it's something else I can do while lollygagging in bed.
And I so want one of these. Yes, I know I have a laptop, but this would be strictly for writing, gets up to 25 hours on the battery (more than enough for taking to Poor Richard's or on walkabout), has Wi-Fi access and could be downloaded onto the laptop. The other one can be synched and gets 700+ hours on 3 AAA batteries. At under 2 pounds, they would be perfect for trips and hikes. All I'd need for my writing arsenal is a digital camera and I'm working on that. Aah, technology.
If I move the bedroom into the living room that would pose logistical and gravity problems for the catheter but it would put me closer to the source of food and water. Wonder if I can rig something to bring me food in bed, too.