16 February 2022
Just as I was about to sit down to a simple spaghetti dinner on Valentine's Day, Dr. Tong called. She was in Joyce's room and wanted us to both hear what she had to say so we were all on the same page.
But first the spaghetti. Because every now and then I remember a scene in Sandro Veronesi's novel Quiet Chaos in which spaghetti makes a cameo appearance. I'm so fond of it, I'll show it to you.
You should know "dottore" is what you call a college grad in Italian (it's "medico" for doctors, I'll add so you can get some sleep tonight) and the speaker is in the habit of sitting in his car parked across the street from his daughter's school after losing his wife.
-- Excuse me, Dottore?"
I turn around instinctively, even if around here no one ever calls me dottore. Nothing, there's not a living soul.
-- Dottore, up here!
I look up and see a little man waving his arms from a window in the apartment building across the street. He looks older. He waves his arms and nods, smiling: he is speaking directly to me; and now that he's sure he's got my attention, he makes a hand gesture; a gesture I can barely make out but that even from a glimpse has a clear meaning in Italy, unmistakable...
-- Are you in the mood? -- the little man says.
Due spaghetti, a little spaghetti, it means. The little man is rotating his hand downward, with the index and middle fingers making a V sign; he's inviting me to have due spaghetti.
-- Tomato and basil! -- he shouts. -- I'm just about to toss the pasta in. Come on up!
But as I said, Dr. Tong's call interrupted my due spaghetti and I heard her repeat the plan I previously disclosed. She seemed to think Joyce could go home some time next week if all goes well.
What was news to me was that the cultures weren't back yet but the pharmacy was cooperating with strong antibiotics and she had scheduled the second debridement for Thursday (tomorrow as I write this). Then one more the next week. Meanwhile, the Wound VAC stays on with its black dressing.
If there is no infection and the wound is clean next week, she'll place the Integra and close the wound with the VAC again and send her home for a few weeks, returning to the clinic for dressing changes once a week.
℘
TUESDAY MORNING after that Valentine's Day call, Paul from Excelsior showed up with a partner to replace our 2007 water heater, which had been leaking from the top as I confessed the last time we spoke.
They did a nice job. The new heater will cost us $200 a year in gas and water. He quoted me $2,000 to replace it but took a check for $1,950 rather than a credit card. He saw the plumber's sticker on the old one and asked if I'd called them first. Nope, I confessed. This time I wanted a specialist, not a plumber.
He said that was wise. That plumber's rate is $3,500, he said. And I happened to know my mother's plumber wanted $2,500, which is what we paid in 2007.
So it wasn't an arm and a leg after all. Just an arm.
℘
THAT WENT SO WELL (it only took an hour) that I called Whirlpool* to see if I could find anything out about the dryer noise. I gave the rep the model number and serial number and played a recording of the noise, telling her it doesn't happen until about 50 minutes into the run.
Taking the unit out of level by lifting the front right corner quiets it but nothing else I do avoids it. I've been working on it since we got it.
She sees we had it installed in November 2020 and tells me Whirlpool has a Special Projects program that will repair it out of warranty at no charge to me.
I had only wanted to know what could be causing the problem and if there was some documentation on how to take these new cabinet apart so I could get in there myself and take a look. Or call my local appliance repair guy.
But if they were willing to come out and make it right finally, I'm all for it.
She offered Wednesday or Thursday time slots and I picked Thursday afternoon. They've called three times offering earlier appointments even though I explained I can't do it before then.
So Thursday is a big day. Debridement and dryer, all in one. But don't get your hopes up. Mine aren't.