Clinics; Windows

Saturday night I began to feel feverish and overly tired, so Sunday I did lots of sleeping. An activity, I repeated again today. I finally got up and went out to buy supplies, and when I got back I decided I'd go to the clinic.

Is there a solution to the lines in a clinic? I guess not. I could have waited a day and made an appointment at the other clinic that is not part of my insurance plan. But it literally would cost ten times as much. And I've experienced long waits there too.

The TV in the waiting room is tuned to CNN. Which is much better than the one at another clinic that is tuned to Fox News. For awhile clinics used the Physicians Network, which cycled everything every 20 minutes.

The clinic that is not part of my medical plan does not have a TV. Praise the Goddess. Instead there is a glorious 10-foot long photo-mural of the Grand Tetons. Any time I go there, I get up and take a close look. If you look carefully, you can see horses, buildings and fences.

My visit with the doctor was short. He said he could definitely hear some rumbling as he listened to my chest. He quickly gave me some sample antibiotcs, and I was on my way.

If this were not enough, an organish-colored fungus had started growing on the inside of the lining. I did not want to throw everything out since the set was obviously expensive. I was able to take down the drapes and some of the supporting hardware almost immediately. (I was finally able to fold the drapes into a compact package and store in the old den which is now a store room.) But the remaining hardware was screwed into place at four points. One night last week I spent over an hour trying to get it down without destroying the room or hitting one of the cats.

One of the reasons for removing the drapes was so I could set up modular bookcases under the windows. These reach slighly above the window sill in height. As I anticipated, they've turned into one of the cats favorite places to sleep and watch. It's great fun to be on the outside and watch the cats watching you.

The house it set far enough back from the street, and there is enough vegetation that you still feel a sense of privacy. At night with the lights out in the living room, the view is dappled with light and shadows. Whenever a car passes, you can catch the on-coming glare of the headlights and the departing ruby-tinted glow of the taillights.

PAX!