I have more experience to share from the road of life.
This past Tuesday on the trip to Kansas City to get there for my early-morning eye surgery on Wednesday, we stopped at the Flying J Truck Stop in Emporia. When Nancy was going to start the car, she pushed the button and nothing happened except the car alarm went off. We tried it again and the same thing occurred. Then we both got out to see if it would reset and the same result.
Then I did what I always do—I called Kim Kaufman at Hillsboro Ford. He said it was probably the batteries in our remotes and that there was a little pocket in the console to stick one of the remotes into with the buttons toward the front and it would probably start, which we did and it started.
He said we should replace the batteries in the remotes at least once per year which we hadn’t done in about two years. It never occurred to me to do this.
We headed toward town to find some batteries, not thinking that Flying J probably had them.
It was truly a lucky moment as about the first place we drove by was the Ford-Lincoln dealer. I went in and had the batteries replaced and we were good to go. The guy said you’d be surprised how many people had this issue.
It was daytime during business hours, and we were not at a remote location. Very fortunate indeed.
The moral is to not let your batteries run down.
There are just too many things to know about cars these days. You really don’t need to know everything. You just have to know who to call.
Back in my high school days we had cars that most anyone could learn how to fix and keep running. At least, one most likely knew where to start looking if there was a problem.
I had a 1956 black and white Chevy, which we all referred to our cars as 5×6 Chevy or 5×9 Ford, etc.
We also greeted each other by saying, “What’s Trump?” Not referring to anyone, but to a card game saying.
OK, so back to the surgery last week. The surgeon went in there after stopping by beforehand and marking on my head where he was going to make the incision. I don’t know how many times that morning I was asked my name, date of birth, and what I thought they were going to do to me.
I had to be there at 6 a.m. for an 8:20 a.m. date in the operating room. Lots of questions to answer and forms to sign.
The brightest moment of the morning was when Becky Jantz, now Klein, who is a surgical nurse at KU Med, stopped by to say hi. She was a pure delight to talk with and was not going to be my nurse because she works with Ortho trauma.
Turns out the tumor they removed was larger than they thought, an orbital mass about the size of a golf ball. The doc said he took a photo and will show it to me next week during my follow-up visit.