That SUCKS!

An old acquaintance of mine used to have the greatest sayings. I still use many of them and always get a reaction when I do. Perhaps my favorite of her sayings:

"Everything in my life sucks except my vacuum cleaner"

Today I can relate to part of that. Not everything sucks, by any means, but my vacuum does not suck. A busted vacuum is problematic when you have an 11 year old husky mix who leaves tufts of hair everywhere he goes and a child whose breathing difficulties are exacerbated by the presence of all the hair. I need to vacuum a lot! When I tried to vacuum yesterday the machine actually started SCREAMING. Now that will stop you in your tracks, I don't mind telling you.

There's a little vacuum store across the park and I actually loaded the thing into the car and took it over there only to find the store is closed for vacation until the 24th. (Closed for three weeks! I guess his business doesn't suck!) I left it in the car knowing that it would stay there until at least the 24th while I borrowed someone else's machine. If I bring it back into the house I will never remember to put it back in the car. Yes, I could just go buy another one but we really do try not to buy into the automatic replacement mentality. This can be fixed, I'm sure, and the machine will last another couple of years.

This morning I was up early so the night nurse could go home. By 7AM Maggie was dressed, fed, cathed and ready for action. No summer school today and dad's office is closed too. We waited for dad to stir so we could go do something, but that was not to be. About 8:30 I decided Maggie and I would just go out on our own and window shop on Chestnut street, a vibrant shopping area with yuppie stores and beautiful people. We drove through the Presidio and exited at Lombard Street. As I went a block out of the Presidio what do I spy but a vacuum repair shop and it's already opened for the day. Not only that, there is a PARKING PLACE right across the street. SCORE! I told Mag we had to detour for a minute. Maggie doesn't care - she is all about the journey, the destination does not matter. Vacuum store, Chestnut Street, whatever. We're out, we're having fun! (We should all adopt that attitude!)

Of course my good luck at happening upon the store and finding the parking place was not quite enough. This presented a logistical problem. How do I get everything into the store?

Do I dare leave Maggie in the car while I bring in the vacuum?
No.
That thought left as fast as it came. She cannot be alone that long. That meant I had to get the wheelchair out of the car (which is a matter of pushing a couple of buttons and steering it down the ramp), push her across the street, leave her, run back across the street and unload the vacuum from the other side of the van and carry it across the street. All of this would have been easier if I was not talking to my sister on the cell phone at the time. (She had no idea what I was doing or she would have hung up on me.)

Maggie thought it was hilarious to watch me cross the street balancing the cell phone while the canister vacuum and hose kept crashing into my shin. Suddenly the man came flying out of the store and said let me get that, you watch your child. Maggie was laughing so hard that she was arching out of the chair. I think she scared the guy, who was very kind. I hung up the phone and focused on Maggie, the guy and the vacuum.

It seems that the vacuum needs a good cleaning - it's screaming because [it has worked hard and needs a vacation? no wait) something is wrapped around the motor. $40 will likely fix my problem. Cool.

We were just about finished when Maggie started gagging a bit. Nothing too bad, but all that laughing stirred her up and I had to suction. As I turned on the suction machine and cleared her trach I saw the guy just stop writing and look up. He seemed concerned.

I just said, don't worry, THIS vacuum works.