seticat

... just haven't gotten around to posting all the much. I've got various photos, incidents and such to write about and comment on, it just seems that when I remember about it, it's 'zero-dark-awful' and all I want to do it go to bed.

Maybe tomorrow...

There's always someone who's whole purpose in life is to provide the far out elements of the Bell Curve [aka: normal distribution.] You know what I mean - the few folks who are at either far end of normal who provide the exception to the rule.

Sadly, I've been given evidence that one of these 'special folks' lives here in my apartment complex.

My proof?

I was taking the garbage down to the trash compactor in the parking garage which is at street level, but below the first level of apartments. The 'first floor' apartments here are actually at second floor elevation - we have nothing on the ground floor. The parking garage in itself is interesting. The apartments form a squared off figure 8 with things like the elevator and stairway are in the center bar [as shown by the xxxx]. The walls of the parking garage are cement block and parking spaces are all around the center core and the outside wall. Over 50 some in all to give an idea of size. The outside ones are sort of open to the air - they have bars over the 'ceiling'. And for some 'God Only Knows' unknown reason, tahe whole thing was designated as a 'Civil Defense Shelter' many, many years ago. Trust me, it's not the sort of place *I'd* want to be in the sort of situation that warrented a Civil Defense Shelter. The compactor is over near the wall closest to the street - and we're talking 'compactor' here - like dumpster sized. Not the little weenie kind you find in a home.]

Anywho...

I open the compactor's door and to my surprise I see a small, disposable propane canister sitting there on top of a full trash bag. It was a small one like the one found screwed to this lantern, not one of the bigger silver ones you find with bar-b-ques and such and I had no idea if it was empty or not, just that it looked pretty beat up.

I go O_o WTF!?!?!?!?!?!?

I gingerly reach in, take it out, put it on the compactor frame, put my trash bags on the ground near the compactor and beat feet back to my apartment and call the after hours maintenance - emergency phone #. I get an immediate call back and tell the maint guy what I found.

He goes O_o WTF?!?!?!

I mention that I called because I have no idea if there are any more in the compactor and, to be honest, didn't want to be around if the thing cycled with a canister in there.

We *both* go O_o OH SHIT!!!

He was going to head to the office and review the video camera that sorta-kinda have over watch of that general area to see if he could see *anyone* with a propane calendar in their hands. I, on the other hand, have bunkered down in my apartment, cat carriers to the ready, and am waiting to see if the parking garage is gonna go 'boom!'.

... but there have been times over the last two days I almost wish so. At least I can give the kids their gooshie-food without wanting to hurl in the sink, that's a step up. But the rest of the body is still in rebellion. Crackers and ginger-ale are staying down okay and the 'explosions' have reduced themselves to rumbles and cramps.

I don't *think* I've eaten any recalled peanut products [... well ... there was that one Reese's Peanut Butter cup a couple of days ago...] and the symptomatology isn't severe enough to be anything truly bad - like salmonella. Been food poisoned once already, thank you kindly. That was around a 7+ on the 'GI Symptoms from Hell' scale. That involved a trip to the ER that lasted around 18 hours, several liters of IV fluids and an interesting fruit-cocktail of meds. This little incident is about a 5 and dropping. I'm thinking just a general viral gastroenteritis since there's never really been a fever spike.

But it still sucks.

I also have to remember to contact VA and email a cancellation of my therapist's appointment [yet again] 'coz there's no way in Hell I'm putting this body in a car and driving for 35-40 minutes on the freeway [time spent driving on a good day]. I can just see me getting stuck in traffic.

All in all, I so seldom get really sick [as in stuck in bed for a few days] it always throws me for a loop when it happens.

[EDIT: For the medical folks in the house, please note: Already lost my appy several years ago, doesn't feel like it usually does when I blow an ovarian cyst [and haven't had one since I slammed face first into menopause several years ago] and it doesn't feel like a gall bag flair. It doesn't feel like a 'surgical belly' - more like a medical one. Just the plain old crud. But I do promise if it doesn't clear itself up by Monday, I'll drag my sorry tush out to 'Sick Call' at VA or to the ER sooner if it gets worse.]

I guess this shouldn't come as a complete surprise. I've been seriously considering getting out of the big town head set.

You Should Live in a Small Town

You prefer a close knit community to the bustle of the city. You like locally owned businesses, local flavor, and friendly neighbors. There's nothing boring about a small town!