Descent into Alzheimer's Disease

Sometimes I feel like I’m flypaper for nutballs. The latest incident involves trying to find someone to cut down a tree and cut the dead branches off the other trees in our yard. Sounds simple, doesn’t it? I had gotten about three estimates when my neighbor (father of snarling Rottweiler) recommended someone who was removing some stumps for him. Ignoring the fact that the company’s name was Hooters, I said, “Send him over.” I missed him when he came by, so I called the number on the business card he left in the door. The phone rang and rang, no answer. Figuring a business phone would have an answering machine; I hung up and redialed. Same thing. A little while later ‘Hootie’ calls me saying, “ This is Hootie. I’m returning your call.” Since I had not left a message with anyone, I giggled a bit, knowing he was obviously calling any number left on his caller ID. Okay, we’re talking LOW overhead here. :-) ANYWAY, I tell him I want the tree in the side yard beside the driveway cut down and the dead branches cut out of the other trees. Since he was gonna be coming by when I was away, he asked for me to tie a ribbon around the tree I wanted cut down. I told him there was only one tree in the side yard, so it wouldn’t be a problem. He made arrangements to call me back later that day or on Sunday night. He sounded very excited and like he wanted the job. Well, Sunday comes and goes, no phone call. Another week passes, no phone call. So yesterday I call the number again and a woman answers. She sounded older and I’m guessing it was his mom. I explained that he had never called me back and I would like for him to get in touch with me. The phone rings at 7:30 this morning. I am in a dead sleep and jump up to answer. After I mumble a garbled, “Hello” I'm greeted by an angry Hootie.

“Did you say I didn’t get back to you? Who is this?!?” he demanded.

After obediently telling him my name he demands, “Where do you live?!?”

Again, I answer calmly.

“Oh, I talked to your Mom and she didn’t know what tree you wanted cut down.”

Now, that’s a big shock. Doesn’t explain at all why he never called me back, but whatever. He tells me he needs to know what tree. Once again I tell him the only tree in the side yard.

“The Elm?” he asks.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Well, I need you to be there so I can be sure.”

“That’s fine, I can be here.”

Thus we make arrangements to meet. He shows up at my house, walks to the side yard and asks, “Is this the tree you want cut down?”

I look at him, wondering silently how it is possible that he could be confused about which tree when there is only one to choose from.

“Yes, that’s the tree.” I smile.

He has a flag bandanna wrapped around his long tresses and I watch him as he checks out the trees.

“It’s gonna cost ya $1000,” he decides.

“Wow, that’s the highest estimate so far,“ I comment.

“Then someone else can have the job. Good day!”

He storms off to his car, leaving me standing there gaping.

So, if anyone lives near Roanoke and would like a rude, redneck tree cutter with an attitude; just call Hooter’s Tree Service.

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Mom had an appointment with a podiatrist today. I remembered to give her an Ativan before we left. Well, I should say Chris gave it to her. She refused to take her pills for me, but took them right down for Chris. I don’t know how I’m ever going to manage when I don’t have his help anymore. Dr. Stephen clipped her nails and checked out her feet. Commented on how severe her bunions are and gave me some cream to put on her corns. He entertained us with stories about visiting the VA hospital and taking care of people’s feet who had not had their shoes or socks off for six months. Heh. Mom would fit right into that category if she didn’t have anyone to care for her. At any rate, the doctor was very personable and informed me that Medicare would no longer pay for nail clipping, but to feel free to come back to get her nails clipped at our expense. Depending on the circumstances, I just might take him up on it. Oh yeah, one interesting suggestion he gave me was to put Vick’s VapoRub on her thick toenails to kill the fungus. I’ll be trying that one for sure. The Ativan was just the ticket and Mom was calm and cooperative during the visit.

Romans 10:15 And how shall they preach, except they be sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!