IN WHICH WE MEET ANOTHER KIDNEY ANGEL

So there I was, minding my business and tackling my to do list, when I came upon another Kidney Angel. A Kidney Angel is anybody who has watched over or helped me in any way during this little road trip (*) I've been on.

(Yup...like all of you.)

This one's name is Tamra, and she is the office manager of the Residence Inn in Indianapolis where I will be staying for a dry run on April 6th, and then again for a month after treatment. I am scheduled to visit with Dr Goggins and the transplant team in April and have a CT scan, so I figured it would be a good time to scope out the hotel and surroundings so I am fully prepared.

As I was explaining this to Tamra, she said "We've got you covered, Girl. About 3/4 of our guests are here for transplant or treatment at IU and our property manager's husband is a liver transplant recipient. This is your first kidney transplant...it's our 500th. The only thing you need to concentrate on is keeping that new fat juicy little kidney safe and sound and healthy, and let us do the rest."

Yes, Dearies. I burst into the ugly cry right there in the Happy Chair in front of the Chicken Sisters and everybody.

What a relief!

Now...on to the stitching portion of the program before Betty fires off another tirade about how she doesn't give a tinker's damn about my bleeping kidneys....just show her the stitching.

Oh, dear Betty.

Dear mean spiteful crazy Betty.

I played with Eliana and got quite a bit finished:

I hope to have quite a bit of time with her this weekend, since my to do list is empty. The laundry is done, folded, and put away and things are sufficiently tidy to keep me from futzing or stressing too much. I don't think the weather is going to cooperate with us for any golfing or outdoor fun, but I'll be perfectly happy to sit in my Happy Chair and stitch a few days away.

Thanks to some group texting with my friend Denise and goddaughters, I got approval of my wedding outfit for J's big day:

Those aren't the shoes for the ceremony....for that I will wear high heels. They should be here in a few days, and I expect to spend quite a bit of time in training so I don't tumble head first into the cake. Now, before you tell me that wearing black to a wedding is bad form...the bride's colors are black and cream with lots of greenery for accents. 

Besides, I got approval.

So that's the report for today. I am in the d-chair loaded with the newspapers for company and a new little blanket for company:

Happy Friday, Dearies! 

(*) Some might call it the Voyage of the Damned, but I like to think of it as the Griswold'd Fun Old Fashioned Family Vacation.