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My Family
I just talked to my father, after his doctor visit. They can't find anything wrong, of course. He has to see a urologist because he still is not peeing properly.

While I talked to him, he was at home in the kitchen while my mother was upstairs having a nosebleed.

The debate for them was lunch or kaiser.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm

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When will you be in town exactly?  Let me know if you have any free time.  Totally understand if you don't.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
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"Lunch or Kaiser?"

That sums up getting old.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.
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You can have lunch at Kaiser, you know.  It's not a very good lunch, but it would kill two birds.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
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True. I did that once.

I guess I'm old.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.
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...and shaved nekkid.  Like a newborn.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
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naked mole-rat.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.
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[Image: MoleRat.gif]
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
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If you hurry, you can join my sister as she takes my father for his urology appointment. Lunch is optional.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm

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I awoke at 4ish as per usual. I was debating going for a walk or not. I opted not since I am deep in slug mode. 

I was moving around the upper floor of thehouse in the dark since my parents bedroom door was open and I didn't want to disturb. I peeked in and noticed my father sitting on the edge of the bed. I figured he was heading to bathroom.

I navigated around the stair-chair that now blocks the majority of the stairs.  I had just made it past the blockage when I heard a tremendous crash from the bedroom.  Then my mother starts screaming for my father.

Yep. My father's battle with gravity continues. He continues to lose. On his way to the ground, he dragged most of the junk that was on dresser with him. There piles of beads and bobbles everywhere. He also got himself wrapped in the lid of the garbage can, too.

My mother is yapping away a mile a minute. Her biggest concern is that he doesn't have his walker. In my mind, since he is already on the ground, that the walker is the least of his worries. But my mother wanted to make a point that my father was dumb for not having the walker, so she kept asking for it.

Eventually, we realized that I was not going to be able to get my father off the ground by myself. The EMT's were called. My mother continued to offer helpful suggestions from her place on the bed about the front door being opened and whether the porch light was on. I tried to make my father comfortable while telling my mother to shut up for just one second.

The EMT's looked like they had just been awoken, too. They knocked a few pictures from the wall navigating by the stair-lift up the stairs.

They mentioned they had just been here on Thursday to help with my mother and her nosebleeds. My mother continued to answer every question they asked of my father. My father was a bit out of it since 5:30am probably isn't his best time.

They helped him up and got him back into bed. No trips to the emergency room this morning for us. I told the EMT's we were thinking of moving closer to the station to cut down on response time. I continued to tell my mother to stop her yammering. She responded that she's been through this multiple times and this was only my first one. I told it's too bad she didn't learn anything from those other emergencies.

I have been in Saratoga less than 24 hours.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm

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....Man, oh man...
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.
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Painful to read.  Wishing you the best.
I'm nobody's pony.
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They are up. They have eaten. I haven't killed them.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm

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This is a win.
In the Tudor Period, Fencing Masters were classified in the Vagrancy Laws along with Actors, Gypsys, Vagabonds, Sturdy Rogues, and the owners of performing bears.
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Just let us know if you need us to come by with the shovels.
Shadow boxing the apocalypse
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