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11 July, 2018

I have been, for some time, observing the waiter phenomenon.  Maybe Tom, who worked as a waiter for some years in his youth, can offer some elucidation.

It's the uncanny ability of a waiter to look in your direction and look right through you as if you weren't there.

We met Char for lunch at Fenton's Creamery in Vacaville yesterday.  As usual, we had our crab salad sandwich (I usually eat half and take the other half home to Walt, but he had his own this time!)

Our waiter, who seemed a pleasant fellow, was named Jarred and he took our order in relatively speedy fashion, given the number of other customers he had.  But then he disappeared.  We didn't see him until awhile after we had finished our lunch and were waiting for the bill.

We didn't know where he had gone and tried catching the eye of any other waiter, none of whom ever glanced in our direction.

Walt had to finally literally grab one.  By this time Jarrod had come back into the dining room and was standing by the kitchen chatting with the cook while he waited for orders to be finished. 

Even when the waiter Walt grabbed went to him, he never glanced in our direction and took his sweet time coming to give us our bill.  I don't know what Walt tipped him, but I suspect I would not have given him my usual 20%.

But Jarrod is not unique.

I have noticed far too many times that in many restaurants waiters often take their sweet time before they will make eye contact with antsy patrons who just want to pay and leave (or who are hoping for a refill of water).

I guess I'm just never satisfied because my complaint about Olive Garden (at least in Sacramento) is that the wait staff check with you every 5-10 minutes to make sure everything is all right.  You just get into the meat of a conversation and the wait person interrupts to make sure you don't need more breadsticks or salad, then goes away and comes back in another 5-10 minutes.

Surely there is a happy medium somewhere in all this!

We enjoyed our lunch with Char and then stopped at Kaiser on the way home to get this week's CK blood test drawn.  The numbers are lower again.  It was 1851 last week and 1439 this week (for those who are keeping track).  So things are going in the right direction.

I can now almost all the time get my left leg into the car now, only occasionally needing help, though I often need help with the right leg.  But that's progress anyway.  Overall, I told Walt my body feels stronger, but it's the legs that need work. 

It's weird but it seems I need 3-4 tries to stand up before I can actually do it.  It's like the command doesn't make it from my brain to my legs until I try several times.  A good friend has offered me a "lift chair" like the one I used in Santa Barbara and I am very, very grateful for the generous offer. Ned is going to try to get over there and get it, perhaps this weekend.

I made the mistake of hanging my cane on a hook in a gas station bathroom the other day on the way back from Santa Barbara.  It was the handicapped bathroom and it was too late before I realized I would not be able to reach it from where I was sitting.   There was a time when I was sweating and nearly crying when I thought I would have to yell for help from someone else in the next stall, but I was finally able to drag myself up.  That was very embarrassing.

As for my arms, I can finally reach up and get a plate ("a" plate, the operative word) with my left arm, but can't with my right arm, without difficulty.  In the car, I could lower the visor with my left hand, but it was "too heavy" to lower it with the right.

So I can see improvement, but it's frustratingly slow.  It's just encouraging that the numbers are coming down and that I can see improvement.

The most frustrating thing is not being able to drive.  I felt very guilty, especially when Walt got sleepy driving home, that I couldn't give him a breather and do some of the driving this weekend.



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