Why do we believe death comes in threes? Well, because it often does

Several days ago I was informed that "Bingo Joe" from the Senior Center had recently passed.  I actually knew Joe long before joining the center in 2023, he lived in my apartment building.  

I'd often see him downstairs in the lobby, just kicking back and chillin'.  I'd say "Whaddya know, Joe" and he always smiled and nodded at me.

At the center, I only saw him on Mondays & Fridays when he arrived to call the Bingo numbers after lunch.  I have to tell you, the Bingo crowd is a FAR different crowd than the regulars that are there daily.  A few minutes before noon, the players show up with their various doodads and such, and mark their spots while people are still eating.  We knew to high-tail it out of there before Bingo Joe started calling out numbers at 12:15 sharp.  

One time a couple years ago, my friend Geri was explaining Aetna Medicare to me, and it was 3 minutes to Bingo.  Bingo Joe quietly came up behind Geri and began scooting her chair back from the table while she shouted "Hey, Hey!!  I wasn't done!"  Bingo Joe said "You are now!"   RIP Joe. 

A few days after learning of Bingo Joe's demise, I learned of the recent passing of Sil Confortini.  I haven't seen Mr. Confortini since 1979, but remembered him quite well.

Mr. Confortini was my junior high school Social Studies teacher in 1973-1974.  Truth be told, there's not a lot of things to share about Social Studies, but I remember him always dressing very well.  Always crisp dress shirts and modern ties, and a hint of aftershave.  His son Dean was in my class, we graduated together.  Dean always came to school dressed well too.

Mr. Confortini in the early 1970s, precisely how I remember him

One thing I remember clearly, I had his class at 6th period after lunch.  As he would go on about things like Brazilian exports, I would sometimes get a little dozey.

One time he suddenly stopped lecturing and said "Mr. Morris, I wish you would stop using my classroom for your nap times."  No one laughed, the other kids just turned and looked at me.  I was so embarrassed!

Mr. Confortini graduated from Jefferson Morgan High School in 1949, went to college, returned and taught there for 36 years.  He died of natural causes, a few weeks before his 96th birthday.  That is quite a life.

Finally, I just learned of this one yesterday while getting a haircut--it affected me the most.

This is not a recent picture of Denice.  Her hair was mostly gray like mine, and she wore it pulled back in a ponytail and wore glasses.  She worked at Kuhn's for as long as I can remember, often in the small office near the registers where I would buy stamps or get money for my apartment building's laundry machine.  

I don't want to sound mean, but I always assumed Denice was in her early to mid-70s.  She was slender, but a heavy smoker and in the last year had developed a bad cough.  Last Friday while working, she had a sudden heart attack and dropped to the floor.  When the paramedics arrived, she was already dead.  She was only 62 years old.

She was a wife and grandmother, and had 3 adult children.  I was just talking to her on Wednesday, two days before her passing.  I said her cough was sounding better and she said it should be, she'd had it since December.  It's difficult to believe she's gone... at least she didn't suffer.  

Three people I didn't know well, but still knew well enough.  I just felt compelled to share something.  Thanks for reading.

Goodbye Pennie, Hello Neighbor & Lesson Learned

Can I get something off my chest?  When I applied for Medicare Advantage a couple weeks ago, I was told when the card arrives to call Pennie (Pa Health Insurance Marketplace) and disenroll from my current Insurance plan, but ensure it lasts until Sept 30.  Medicare doesn't begin until October 1.

I got my updated Advantage card yesterday, so I called Pennie.  I spent the next 11 minutes identifying myself by answering 'Yes', 'No' or punching various numbers on my phone.  It was trying my patience, but I get it--they REALLY want to ensure someone isn't posing as me.  I finally get a computer voice saying "The next agent will respond to your call.  There is a current wait time of 7 minutes."

Cue the godawful wait music.  TWENTY TWO MINUTES LATER, Abu from 'The Simpsons' says (in the heaviest Hindi accent possible) "Hlu entarrour fooro dodos if yor su-chill shoity."  

I said "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?  I can't understand you."  He repeated it.  I repeat myself.  I get the same nonsensical response.  I said "This isn't working, can I speak to someone else?"  I hear more gobbledygook.  I said "I'm sorry I don't mean to be rude but I CANNOT UNDERSTAND YOU."   He begins speaking in tongues again.  I sadly hang up.

I realize we all need to eat, we all need to live, most of us need to work.  But for a customer service line for Pennsylvanians who pretty much speak English only, why must they outsource it to people with the heaviest accents this side of Bangladesh?  I worked with several people from India in my career, have had several doctors too.  They all had accents, but spoke well and were easy to talk to.   

I called Pennie back a couple hours later, went thru the same 10 minutes of AI prompts, was told there was a 1 hour wait time, would I like to be called back, I said yes.  AI said "Great, you will be called back within one hour."   No one called back.  I eventually figured out what to do on the Pennie website.  SO GLAD I AM DONE WITH PENNIE.

A couple mornings ago, I was sitting here watching tv when I began hearing chainsaws outside.  I looked out my living room window and saw one of those white trucks with a giant arm on the back, stretched up to the sky.  Someone was cutting the top branches off the tree across the street.

I've lived in my apartment 8 1/2 years and have never seen the second house across the street from me.  It had giant hedges that separated the houses, and a tremendous tree in front that hid the house and went way above the rooftop.

It took 9 hours to chop everything down.  (They returned the next day and got rid of that remaining trunk and pile of wood.)  

I realize this isn't a good picture, it's reflecting my vertical blind.  I should've taken one of the sidewalk below while it was going on.  It was lined with people in my neighborhood, all holding their phones out, taking pictures.

Last night when I was taking my trash downstairs, I ran into the transgender person who lives in the first floor apartment across from that house.  He was standing outside smoking and asked me if I noticed the trees were gone.  Er... yes.  

He wasn't happy.  He pointed behind us and said "That's my window.  I hope they enjoy the view."  😐

Finally, I recently saw a story where a man was found dead, face down on his kitchen floor.  When they rolled him over, they discovered a kitchen knife and a box of (thawed) frozen hamburger patties.  

Apparently he'd been trying to pry one free, only to force his knife too hard and pushed the blade into his chest.  I'm sorry, I know this was a grisly thing to share but it was a real wake up call.  I'm a big fan of these frozen hamburgers, and often do the same thing.  I've learned my lesson.

I suppose my reading room is now my writing room

One nice thing about writing a personal blog is the ability to go back and find things I've shared, when my own memory is fuzzy.  For instance, on May 24 I posted a blog titled "A Big Setback" where my daily discomfort level from long covid had really escalated, and I was letting everyone know I may not be around for awhile.

Looking back, I was wrestling with a lot of oral inflammation and only eating very bland things when my gallbladder ruptured 2 weeks later on June 7.  That week in the hospital, after the two surgeries and on a liquid diet, I had to keep asking for low sodium broths because my covid-related BMS (burning mouth syndrome) was making me hypersensitive to any spices or salt.  

A week or so after I returned home on June 20, the symptoms began to let up.  And when my friend Kim went with me to Mercy Hospital for a post surgery follow-up on June 25, my covid symptoms had greatly reduced.  I confided to Kim I was feeling pretty optimistic.  I posted a photo of us on my blog, and my sister told me I looked like my old self.

Of course, the long covid symptoms returned that weekend.  They lasted a week, winked out a couple days (allowing me to meet up with some friends from the senior center for lunch, my first outing in 8 months) then returned again on July 17.  

These last couple weeks have been tough.  Lots of inflammation in the eyes, burning in the left side of head and mouth, and that heavy, strange smell of diesel fuel and decayed flowers. 

For the past year, I've been avoiding all videos and articles pertaining to long covid.  But these past couple weeks left me wondering if there's any kind of answers yet.  Nope.  Medical experts claim the US has 10 million documented cases, the UK has 2 million.  They said the real numbers are probably double that.  They also claim LC comes with 300 different symptoms and remissions are common, giving many sufferers false hope.  

Most sufferers remain in isolation, and say they've lost their jobs, family, friends.  At least I can't lose my social security.  Still, I read my blogger friends weekly adventures and wonder when I'll be back out there again.  

My senior center has a restaurant outing on August 12; I asked to be included, fingers crossed...

When I was first hit with this in early 2024, I had a busy calendar and hated the thought of canceling anything, especially a Titanic exhibit.  I never dreamed I'd still be missing out on things 2 1/2 years later.  

For now at least, I'm blessed to still have people in my life I enjoy spending time with on the phone.  My friend Diana in West Virginia, my sister Shawn, my friend Pen who I've known since grade school, my dear friend Kim (who I refer to as Kimba, she's a two-time cancer survivor and white lion).  They've all spent hours with me on the phone, and I would be lost without them.

To the readers out there who read my posts and leave comments, thank you.  You really matter too.  I feel bad, I came in here to do some reading on my tablet and the next thing you know... I need to wrap this up, my bottom is numb.  Until next time. 😌