The volume control on my radio is shot, erratically going LOUDER or softer, but not everyday, and I'm not too certain how well the tuner would work, were I ever to try and change stations. Which I haven't tried for years. Anyway, the darn thing is old, but it works well enough for our purposes: The first alarm goes off at 5:00 a.m. WBBM Newsradio comes on -- the AM station, not that FM upstart which I would occasionally tune into for traffic updates while downtown, because AM never worked in the shadow of skyscrapers -- and Long Suffering Spouse and I respond by 5:30 or so. She gets moving first. As long as I don't blink, I'm only five minutes or so behind.
Of course, one is expected to blink when taking one's glaucoma drops in the morning, which I do -- I resisted for years, but I have run out of excuses in retirement. But I am mortified on those few mornings when my blinks... extend.
Our radio has a 6:00 a.m. alarm setting as well. The news goes off for a minute at 5:59 and that silence -- if I haven't already gotten out of bed -- will jumpstart me into frantic action.
That's enough detail about our regular routine for this story, which concerns Granddaughter Four.
She is having her adenoids removed today -- they're probably already out as I type this, actually, given her surgery time.
But we didn't know what time her surgery was scheduled for until quite late yesterday evening.
This was not the fault of Younger Daughter and Olaf, Four's parents: The hospital is supposed to call them the day before the schedued surgery and tell them what time the surgery is set and what (much earlier) time they are to arrive.
There was a question whether I would be pressed into service getting Grandsons Seven and Nine off to their respective schools (Granddaughter One takes the bus to middle school and so does not need my transportation services). I know what time the boys have to leave... but when would their parents be leaving with Four? Because that would be when I would need to arrive.
Older Daughter works evenings these days. She was already at work by the time the hospital got around to calling. Olaf let me know that the surgery was set for 8:50 a.m.
I did some quick ciphering. The hospital usually wants check-in at least an hour before the procedure -- they were supposed to specify this when they called Olaf, but did not -- and the hospital is a good half hour away from their home. Build in a little cushion... I figured they'd be fine if they left by 7:00.
But to get to Younger Daughter's by 7:00, I'd have to drop off Long Suffering Spouse at school by 6:30 (she's still teaching). The 5:00 alarm would have to be advanced... to 4:30 at least. Maybe 4:00. I communicated most of this to Olaf.
Hang on, he texted back (you don't think I actually spoke with a Millennial on the phone, do you?), there are complications.
Granddaughter One had a pulmonologist's appointment that apparently could not be rescheduled, and their new puppy (long story) had her first appointment with the vet. So Olaf and Younger Daughter would be playing a game of divide and conquer. He would handle the appointments for One and the puppy while Younger Daugher got Four to the hospital. If he did these things, he would be able to drop off the boys, too.
(Honestly, my grandchildren -- all of them, or darn near all -- have each had more doctor's appointments and procedures and surgeries than I ever had -- and I've had cancer and a heart attack -- I don't want to go all MAHA on you so soon after coming back here... but, gosh, one can't help but at least wonder.)
Anyway, Olaf concluded, I should plan on being there at 7:00... but maybe that would change and all I'd have to do would be to pick up Nine from pre-school around noon. He said there should be a message on my phone by morning as to my final instructions.
That's when I texted that I'd have to advance the alarm a bit to make it there by 7:00... and he said he'd get back to me as soon as he could (meaning when Younger Daughter was through with work, so they could finalize their own allocation of labor).
I promptly fell asleep in my chair watching TV. Long Suffering Spouse eventually did, too. There was no further direction on my phone when we woke up to go upstairs.
But it sounded, at least to me, like I would be spared early morning duty. I told Long Suffering Spouse that I would not advance the alarm. We'd improvise if necessary.
This is what passes for risk-taking by grandparents, right?
But it all worked out.
Through a happy combination of Old Man Bladder and Catholic Guilt, I was up at 4:00 a.m. anyway. I checked the phone: Sure enough, a message had come in while I was off in the Land of Nod excusing me from early morning duty. So I have time to tell this story... and maybe do some other stuff, too, before I have to go out in the cold....
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