Wednesday, November 29, 2006

No work, but plenty of excitement.

Sometime in the past few days, I hurt my thumb. The joint's swollen and I can't bend it. I have absolutely no idea how it happened (although I'm tempted to blame Cam-Lok connectors) but since I do tend to use my thumbs quite a bit, I figured I'd get it checked out.

When I showed it to the doctor, he said, "You fucked something up. Take some Motrin and soak it in warm water. Maybe that'll clear it up."

All that medical school for a diagnosis of "fucked up"? That, I'd already figured out.

"Tell me something I don't know," I said.

He thought for a moment. "Buy low, sell high?"

I like my doctor, but sometimes I really want to kick him. Plus, I already knew that.

So, I've got a bottle of Motrin and official medical advice not to use my thumb for the next three days. Wish me luck with that one.

In more exciting news, yesterday, LA county mental health services hauled my landlady off to the nuthatch.

She's always been, um, eccentric.. but it's gotten worse in the past few weeks. It all started when her kids tried to get a power of attorney (which is a reasonable request when one's parent is 80, I think), and she freaked out. She interpreted it as an attempt at a pre-death asset grab and stopped eating or sleeping - she just cried all day and all night.

The lack of sleep turned into paranoia, and since my landlady lives next door, her pounding on my door at 1 am to tell me that the streetlight was watching her and that I should take my stove apart to make sure there weren't any electronic bugs in it. "Check your oven, too! They might be listening to everything you say!"

Honestly, I didn't realize how bad it had gotten. I'd heard pounding noises at night, but hadn't really worried about them. She's always been handy, so I figured she was boarding up the windows or installing shelves or something (sometimes I'll do stuff like that when I can't sleep). I'd offered to take her to the grocery store if she needed it, but she said she was fine.

Turns out, she's ripped out all the electrical wiring in her house (because it was listening to her, I guess) and there's a gas leak because in her zeal to find the 'bugs' - she knocked big holes in the walls and hit the gas line with a hammer.

The social workers who took her away yesterday were very nice, and implied that she'll be okay soon, once she's gotten some medical treatment.

I hope so. I haven't heard anything about how she's doing, but it's been less than 24 hours, so there may be no news yet.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow.

So. What has your 'fridge told you about the upcoming writers' strike?

Anonymous said...

Was "The Conversation" recently on cable?

Because Gene Hackman totally freaked me out tearing up his place, and maybe it gave your landlady ideas.

Anonymous said...

So that means free rent, right?

Anonymous said...

Ah, Hollywood. 72 hour holds. When the PET Team comes a'knockin' you may just get a free trip to County General. I've had to call the team myself, for family members. But you know, you MAY want to check the stove anyway (g)

Peggy Archer said...

Anon: my fridge says attempts at union-busting will be met with an ass whomping the next time Tyra tries to get to some of those leftovers in the back.

Anon 2: I don't think so, my landlady never had a TV, which may not have been a good thing.

Anon 3: I doubt it. I'll have to pay rent to my landlady's daughter.

Meg: If the oven is listening to me, it's bored out of it's mind. My life's really not all that exciting - except for the occasional obscenity that I'm letting loose because trying to type without my thumb is really working my nerves.

Anonymous said...

Somehow now I'm stuck with this image of you in my head looking like Uma Thurman in Even Cowgirls Get The Blues.

Watch out for the toaster...sure, it looks small and innocent, but you never know.

she said: said...

I'm trying to imagine how long it would take someone like your landlady to meltdown after walking into my house. I'm the kind of a-hole that would want to place bets. Not that I think going off the deep-end is funny. Well mostly.

There is so much electronic noise that when we turn the power off to fix things - my ears buzz.

Oh-about the thumb. Sometimes it helps to type with a real old fashion pencil for that hand - eraser side down, just don't slip and poke your eye out. Good luck with that.

Anonymous said...

that means 'free' rent, right? WOW...

CHARLI said...

Wear aliminum foil on your head, no one then can see or hear you, not that I'm paranoid or anything.

Anonymous said...

Everyone knows that the latest listening bugs are planted under the skin. Definitely a good thing you didn't let her know about that.

Re: The doc, whenever I move offices, apartments, significant others, I always get a new doctor. A good test to know if they're good or not is to go to them with an injury like yours. If they give you Motrin, then move on. If they throw some experimental pain pills they've got lying around, get their home number.

Oh and thanks for the link :D