Tuesday, November 20, 2018

Day 3253

I got a letter saying that I needed to change my pharmacy to continue getting the "preferred rate" on prescription drugs. This has happened before. I wonder what goes on behind the scenes at insurance and pharmaceutical companies. Prices and procedures are always changing with no explanation. Are generic drugs really the same as their brand name equivalent? Why do Dash's pills cost substantially less than mine? Often he takes the same pills that humans do. All I know is that healthcare has become way too complicated and is much more expensive than it needs to be. Jeez. I don't want to change my pharmacy for some stupid bureaucratic reason. I like my pharmacy. I need to check and see what this "preferred rate" really is. It may be nothing. The government always likes to scare you into doing things their way. I'm always willing to pay a little more to do things my way.

I was surprised to see that half the junk I took out to the curb yesterday is already gone. All the metal objects are gone. People drive by and scavenge the bulky trash piles. I guess they sell the metal at recycling plants. The city seems more than happy with this practice because there is less trash for them to pick up. The whole thing seems kind of sad to me, but what do I know. You know the old saying: one man's trash is another man's treasure. I did haul some pretty heavy metal objects to the curb yesterday. There was no copper though. It was only steel. Can you make money scavenging steel from trash piles? Like the true cost of prescription drugs, this is probably something I'll never know.

I had to leave the house for a meeting at noon today. Once again, it was hard to get ready in time. By the time I clean up all the poop, make the bed, walk Dash, eat breakfast, and take a shower, it is almost always noon. It's getting harder and harder to do more than one thing a day now. Today's meeting wasn't even necessary. My business bank wants to start selling me investments now that I'm retired. I keep telling them that I already have all the investment advice I need, but they are persistent.    I wonder why they don't understand that I want from them is the kind of service they were giving me fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, nobody wants to provide the type of service they offered fifteen years ago. That ship has sailed.

How do you prescribe bed rest for a dog? I'm having a hard time getting the cut on Dash's paw to heal, because he is always scraping the scab that is trying to form. He wears socks in the house now, but they are always falling off. The boots are too heavy to wear around the house, but the boots are what keep the socks on. At least the wound is trying to heal now. Dash just isn't a very good patient.

I woke up to find poop in the bed again last night. Dash didn't even wake up. Sometimes when the poop is firm I can pick it up with a poop bag without leaving a stain. I did this last night and just went back to bed without waking anyone up. I did wash the bedspread in the morning, but it still looked pretty clean. I don't know if I'm becoming better at cleanup or just more casual about poop. When stuff like this happens every night, it's hard to get very upset about it.

I've got my eye exam tomorrow. I think my eyes are still pretty good, but I have a tendency to rationalize my body's slow deterioration. I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world if I needed to wear glasses. I just hope I never have macular degeneration like my Dad.

Dalmatian of the Day
Watch of the Day