Trader Joe's is Aldi's, if you've been there.
The list for today was to pack a few more small boxes, clear up a paperwork matter at the bank and pull out a bit of cash to pay a bill, call the place I bought this nonfunctional used elliptical to have it hauled off, lunch, pay for the tag on the Chevy (a bit overdue, but it's not being driven), pick up the 30-day eviction paperwork to have served tomorrow, get a haircut, have the pre-op meetings with the physician's assistant, have lunch with my beau who was using his day off to drive me around, and check the dog pound for my missing barn cat.
Of course, this was not all going to get done, but I hoped to get half of it done.
First I had to take three showers because I kept forgetting and applying deodorant. Had to step back in and scrub it off once I remembered (after getting dressed) that tomorrow's central errand is yet another follow-up mammogram. This stuff is supposed to be active for two days, so I can't assume tomorrow's shower will remove all traces of it. Especially since I have so much trouble getting that right armpit rinsed properly.
The pre-op meeting turned into two, the second being with the lady who coordinates for the surgical center, who said I needed one more blood test. I had specifically arranged to take all my blood tests on the 13th of last month. Called all my doctors and said I was going to be at X place and to call in whatever tests they wanted for all my upcoming appointments and overdue what-evers. Man, did that cause a lot of blood to get drawn. But something fell through the cracks.
Because I couldn't get online to notify the surgical center of all my medications, and because HIPAA won't let the doctor tell the surgical center what I am taking, they didn't know I was taking something they have to keep an eye on. Because people are known to take more than they are prescribed. And because not knowing the precise amount in the bloodstream of the patient can cause wonky results under anesthesia. This is a very good reason to test my blood level of the stuff. But it meant I had to sit in line an extra half hour at the one place while they checked whether I'd had it tested, and what anesthesia was planned, and then I had to go to another place, which took time for travel, and sit another hour waiting in a phone-free zone, and blah blah blah.
My cat was not in the dog pound. That was the only other errand that got done.
Bank, tag office, and haircut tomorrow, maybe, fitting somehow around the followup mammogram (supposedly the last followup, but I've heard that before) if one of them doesn't turn into a couple of hours of side trips.
DDIL, aka DS2's girlfriend, will be my driver tomorrow. I will be taking her and one of the other housemates to lunch.
This is one of the links I was sent:
http://www.stvincentssportsmed.com.au/pdf/Living-with-a-sling-after-surgery.pdf#targetText=Avoid clothing with small buttons,-on%2C easy fitting shoes.