No Adrenaline Zone - Wrong Number

Dialing the wrong number is something we’ve probably all done at one time or another, but I’ve received an inordinate amount of wrong number calls since I moved into this place, especially the first two years. There are not as many of these calls now, but they are at times interesting.

Some callers immediately realize they have erred in dialing when they hear my croaking attempts [vocal cord problem] to say hello, apologize and hang up. There is probably a similarity in numbers, when I get calls for the local fire department, demolition bowl, and a few other local businesses. Others have dialed the number correctly; I’m just not the person they expected at the other end of the line.

Yet, why so many people dial correctly and ask for so many and varied persons, I can’t quite figure out. One woman called, asking for a male by name. Caller I.D. showed the call to be from a local labor union office. At first I gave her the standard, “You have the wrong number” line. She related my number and asked if she had that number. I told her that she did, but I had had the number for more than two years at that time, and assured her there was no one living here, but me. She replied, “That’s interesting.” Now why would anyone, hoping for work, give a phone number at which they can’t be reached!

For quite some time I got frequent calls from what seemed like attempts to collect debts. They wouldn’t settle for being told they had the wrong number, but persisted, giving the impression they thought I was deliberately misleading them in their attempts to reap financial justice. More recently someone called and asked for “Mr. Someone.” When I did the wrong number spiel, he came back with “It is Mr. Specific Someone I want to talk to.” Again with the implied tone and attitude that they knew the person was here, if they could just get me to admit it.

This number belonged to a mobile home sales office before I got it. I believe that it is possible there are people who think it is a mobile home park where people live, but how it will help anyone to give a phone number for which they have no access, frankly baffles me!

On the lighter side of wrong numbers there was the woman who, when I said, “Hello,” immediately demanded “ Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for an hour and I’ve been trying to call you! {I’ll bet she had} In this case, she believed my wrong number speech, sputtered a bit, instantly apologetic and promptly hung up the phone. I would be willing to bet, that whether spouse or child, someone was in a bunch of trouble, when they finally showed up!

Then there was this morning, which is responsible for this blog. A woman called and asked, “Is this the Adrenaline Zone?” Hey, I couldn’t help it, it was as automatic as jerking back your finger when you unexpectedly touch something that is too hot. I burst into laughter. I think she had a sense of humor because she didn’t sound annoyed as she said, “No, I guess it isn’t. I have the wrong number,” and then hung up the phone.

The situation with this so very senior citizen is about as much of a no-adrenaline-zone as you could find. My sojourn in a going on two years after-shingles-pain episode is beginning to wear me down, so the words truck me as funny. At this point I’ll take any laugh I can get, so thank God for this morning’s wrong number. That’s something I never thought I’d say!

What Happened to February 2010

What happened to February? It seems to me it went by as fast as some of those skaters and skiers did in the recent Olympics. There were some major happenings on the national and world scene in the weather. Earthquakes, record snowfalls, wind, rain and mud slides. For the purposes of this blog, I won’t get into politics, either here or abroad, except to say that I abhor the extremes in words and actions and the public lies that seem to be so prevalent at present. Other than that I will confine this blog to my own personal world.

Nothing very unusual happened: snow, sleet, rain, slick streets within my small community. Altogether, we fared very well weather-wise in the midst of the February I’ll give you one good taste of winter before spring arrives onslaught. Here, it was a picnic compared to a lot of other places.

Yes, I’m still dealing with what is called “after shingles pain.” I also hit a low-energy period for some reason, not sure why. Otherwise things are much as usual. I did the things I usually do: read, write letters & blogs, crocheted pink and white hats for cancer patients and/or supporters; worked a bit on genealogy, other computer stuff; did housework - the usual cook, clean, laundry stuff [how can one person have so much laundry?]; tried to get in a bit of exercise now and then, so I won’t lose more ground than I need to; trips to the library and grocers when necessary, contact friends/relatives; check on Facebook, Twitter and keep up with email. [This is like trying to keep up with clutter & recyclable paper, it’s only temporary; it’s as futile as the gerbil going around on its wheel.] Sometimes I just quit everything and rest for awhile.

Right in the middle of February I got a year older. Oldest daughter came for a visit for my birthday and stayed a couple of days. We had a very pleasant visit and I had an enjoyable birthday. We met Russ, Jan and family and had a good dinner and enjoyed spending time together. Second daughter was too far away to be with us. We had to visit by phone. And we did miss you, Cara; as well as the other grandchildren whose working and family lives keep them elsewhere. I’m thankful to all for personal and phone visits, cards and gifts.

Daughter-in-law Jan’s eye problem was both a lowlight and a highlight: Low in the seriousness of the situation and the surgical procedures. And high in the favorable outcome, which seems to have been successful. Thank God for the outcome and for the prayers of family and friends.

Days in between have been spent doing some variation of the above.

Shingles: Update

When I saw the doctor recently, she smiled and said she had no magic pill for me. Ah, if only! She told me that this enduring pain from shingles could last for years. Naturally, that is not what I wanted to hear, though I already knew it was possible. I accept it as a fact, but I do not live with that expectancy. I live with the expectancy that each day may be the last day of pain, and that tomorrow might be the day that I wake up, with no more shingles pain.

I have plans for the first day of no shingles pain, and when it happens, I would like to shout it from the rooftops. If ever I was going to dance on a table top, that would be the day. Since I can’t dance on the floor, the table tops are safe. I’ve told some of my neighbors, here in the senior community where I live, that I will put an announcement on the bulletin board to let them know that what I refer to as the dratted shingles is finished with me. They won’t need to ask how I am anymore, except as a polite greeting.

I have another plan that involves singing. Anyone who knows me, knows that I cannot sing anymore, if ever I could. Sometimes it is a struggle to talk, and some days, I do more squeaking than speaking. Inflammations brought on by second hand smoke, and other pollutants, have done well their damage to my vocal chords.

I’m having fun with this blog which I recently started. Along with other things, it helps keep my mind occupied, so I can sublimate the shingles pain - somewhat. To all who suffer so much more than I do, you have my prayerful thoughts; I wish you surcease from your discomfort. May spiritual sunshine imbue your entire being.