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LIFE WITH FLO: The Series PREV 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 NEXT
April 14, 2004 - Part 9
"I KNOW what you've been doing Flo. You've been sampling the 7-UP that sits next to you in the fridge." Her face went pale, then appeared frozen. She thought I wouldn't notice, and even tried to deny it. But there it was, all those tiny bubbles, sitting in a perfect que, one after another, in her line. I explained to her, in my most firm and serious voice, that if there were any further drinking like this, an intervention would be held, and she'll immediately be sent to REHAB, followed by nightly 7A Meetings. Bubbles might be okay if your name is Lawrence Welk, but NOT when you are named FLO. I made it perfectly clear that Flo has a responsibility to remain perfectly clear. Flo and I added another grandmother on Monday night, and the results are in. Six nanograms are better than five nanograms. Therefore, I have high hopes for seven, and eight, and nine. Good thing too, because I hear tell that I'm slated to inherit at least TWENTY of these puppies by this summer. But don't mention this to any of those Side Effects guys. It must be that they are either in jail, or possibly distracted right now by a prolonged gig someplace else because, surprisingly, they haven't been showing up here much. Take a lesson from this. If you ever have to invite Flo to live with you, check their website first, and make very sure the Side Effects are well booked up with other gigs so they can't fit you into their schedule. I only learned this serendipitously. Pretty lucky, huh? Have you ever had a Picc Line? They're a little like an AIRline. At least mine is. It LOOKS like a little airplane with little wings. It FEELS like a huge jetliner that flew into my arm, came to a crashing halt, and therefore decided to use my vein for a hangar. I didn't mind too much, until one day I noticed it had decided to paint it's new environment RED. And Red is not my favorite friend, especially when accompanied by his best buddy, Swelling. Well, to relieve your anxiety, I'll tell you right now that I pulled out the Big Guns and got rid of both of them. Ahhh...... what DID we do before Neosporin? After emptying an entire 48 oz tube of that stuff in one fell swoop, those guys ran for their lives! While I'm telling you everything else, I may as well fill you in on this too. The daily shower, as I knew it, has gone through a major metamorphosis. This is Flo's fault, of course. She says it will all improve as soon as she convinces the doctor to replace Ms Picc Line with Ms Hickman Catheter. BUT I'm not sure I believe her. Remember, she already lied about the Seven-Up. Well, in the meantime, the Simple Daily Shower has been replaced with The Shallow Tepid Bath Sans One Arm Submerged, followed by Wash Your Hair In The Sink But Not Until Wrapping One Entire Roll Of Saran Wrap Around Your Arm In Case Of Splashing But Then Your Arm Can't Bend So Just Use Your Left Hand To Wash Your Hair. If I get up early enough each morning, I can have this task accomplished a couple of minutes before the family puts dinner on the table. I will leave you with one last thought, and it is this: You know you are really sick when the Medic Alert lady tells you that, in order for just your most essential medical information to fit, YOU WILL NEED THE EXTRA LARGE SIZED MEDALLION.
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