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susandennisMy new ceiling fan works off a remote control. I want a spare. I want to have one for the night stand by the bed and one by the door. Why should I have to walk all the way over to the bed to turn on the light? And why should I have to get off the bed and walk all the way to the wall to adjust the fan speed?
Why can't I just have two remote controls? Google fails me. I can find only one place that sells remote controls for this fan. They do not have them in stock. If/when they get them in stock, it will cost me $50 + shipping and handling - COD check only. ???!!!!
The fan is Hampton Bay, which, apparently, is the house brand of Home Depot and they don't do spare parts like replacement remotes. Yo,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
estis, any chance you could scare me up a spare remote for a Model 55295? Or figure out how I can score one?
My goal of being the laziest fat ass on the planet is in competition with being the worst kind of hypochondriac.
I'm pretty sure that any minute I will totally stroke out or have a massive coronary or drop dead of breast cancer if something else isn't hiding in the wings. It's been so many years since I had any of it checked out. I have very good reasons - well, very good in my lame brain. I'm not willing to do anything to fix or prevent any of it - I'm not going to take medication, I'm not going to have surgery and I'm not going to change my lifestyle so why torture a poor doctor who wants to help when I'm not willing? So I don't go. And I totally understand the consequences.
But, I watch all the medical shows - ER, Medical Investigation, Gray's Anatomy and sometimes even Strong Medicine. The worst, for my condition, though, is House.
Generally, on House, the guest star's problem starts out simply. His nose itches or he stubbed his toe. By the first commercial, he's generally in bad straights. By the half way mark, he's pretty much on life support. He's always saved in the end BUT.
So when my nose itches or I stub my toe - or I get a pain when I breathe or I get dizzy or I have a cramp in my neck - anything... I mean anything - and I'm wondering if I'm not two commercials away from life support. And I know that at the end of the hour, I am not going to be saved. I have a good 30 years of health neglect. I was an efficient and talented smoker for 40 years. And, honestly, if it takes medical intervention of any kind, I'm not so good in the will to live department.
I think a lot about not living to see my condo finished, or getting my teeth fixed and getting hit by a bus the next day, or dying before Mom (I do feel a wee bit guilty about that one). I don't dwell on the thoughts - they just pass through. It's part of the package. When I feel a twinge or an ache or any of the signs that may be step one to the Big Staircase, my instincts are to get myself to someplace when, when I pass out, no one will find me until it is too late to save me. My phobia is being resuscitated.
And, I cannot for the life of me remember why I started this entry... so that's surely the sign of a brain tumor, right?
Why can't I just have two remote controls? Google fails me. I can find only one place that sells remote controls for this fan. They do not have them in stock. If/when they get them in stock, it will cost me $50 + shipping and handling - COD check only. ???!!!!
The fan is Hampton Bay, which, apparently, is the house brand of Home Depot and they don't do spare parts like replacement remotes. Yo,
estis, any chance you could scare me up a spare remote for a Model 55295? Or figure out how I can score one?My goal of being the laziest fat ass on the planet is in competition with being the worst kind of hypochondriac.
I'm pretty sure that any minute I will totally stroke out or have a massive coronary or drop dead of breast cancer if something else isn't hiding in the wings. It's been so many years since I had any of it checked out. I have very good reasons - well, very good in my lame brain. I'm not willing to do anything to fix or prevent any of it - I'm not going to take medication, I'm not going to have surgery and I'm not going to change my lifestyle so why torture a poor doctor who wants to help when I'm not willing? So I don't go. And I totally understand the consequences.
But, I watch all the medical shows - ER, Medical Investigation, Gray's Anatomy and sometimes even Strong Medicine. The worst, for my condition, though, is House.
Generally, on House, the guest star's problem starts out simply. His nose itches or he stubbed his toe. By the first commercial, he's generally in bad straights. By the half way mark, he's pretty much on life support. He's always saved in the end BUT.
So when my nose itches or I stub my toe - or I get a pain when I breathe or I get dizzy or I have a cramp in my neck - anything... I mean anything - and I'm wondering if I'm not two commercials away from life support. And I know that at the end of the hour, I am not going to be saved. I have a good 30 years of health neglect. I was an efficient and talented smoker for 40 years. And, honestly, if it takes medical intervention of any kind, I'm not so good in the will to live department.
I think a lot about not living to see my condo finished, or getting my teeth fixed and getting hit by a bus the next day, or dying before Mom (I do feel a wee bit guilty about that one). I don't dwell on the thoughts - they just pass through. It's part of the package. When I feel a twinge or an ache or any of the signs that may be step one to the Big Staircase, my instincts are to get myself to someplace when, when I pass out, no one will find me until it is too late to save me. My phobia is being resuscitated.
And, I cannot for the life of me remember why I started this entry... so that's surely the sign of a brain tumor, right?
