I figured it was time to do a little catch up.
Since our last episode, I've been in the hospital two more times, once with kidney failure, amongst other fun and games, and once for an overnight sleepover, just because the food is so good and the beds are so comfy.
I actually spent my birthday there. I thought it was going to be a really crappy day, but it turned out to be one of the best birthdays I've ever had.
The day started with an ultrasound. I had been placed in a private room, because I was supposed to have a little extra observation, which didn't happen...more on that later.
I was suffering from Royal Disease, (you know..Up,Chuck, and Di) so the trip to the lab and back was eventful, to say the least.
When I was returned to my room, the transport guy threw a blanket over my freezing body and took off. That was the last human I saw for nearly an hour. This was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I had spent 3 days with Nurse Ratchett and I was tired of it. 3 times she had walked out of the room while I was asking her a legitimate question. Words were still actively coming out of my mouth as she left. Then she swore she gave me a pill that she did not give me. I know, because I counted. But this last day...45 minutes of freezing under a thin blanket, no call button, and with urine on my leg and vomit in my ear (sorry) was all I could stands, I can't stands no more!
I did NOT hesitate to call her charge nurse and make a complaint right in front of her.
I thought this was the start to a really crappy birthday. But then...
I got a beautiful plant delivered from my sister Pam, with a note that had our special message on it.
Then my daughter-in-love, Michele, arrived with flowers and honeycrisp apples, which she knows I love. She's not my blood daughter but I wish she was, and I thank her mom for sharing her somewhat with me.
Then my Dave arrived, all decked out in his Santa outfit, with huge balloons. He had ridden his powerchair 3.3 miles to get from our place to the hospital.He even had an accident on his way home. He hit a low spot in the street and fell out of his chair, bruising his body literally from head to toe. Nothing says love like ice packs and ACE bandages.
Then my caregiver, Michelle, came with more balloons.
Then Nurse Ratchett, who had since become the most solicitous person you ever saw, brought in 6 staff members who sang to me.
The kitchen sent me a fruit tart that I shared with Dave and Michelle.
Cards from friends out of state.
Then the phone calls started. My brother who shall remain nameless, my best friends back home, both my sons....then.....the piece de resistance:
My grandchildren called and sang to me. Well, Jacob and Moosie sang, while Jamie made precious baby noises in the background.
Siiiiigh. I was happy but exhausted at the end of the day. I snuggled into bed with my good buddy, Vic Odin, and counted my blessings.
I hope you all have as wonderful a birthday as I had....without the hospital and Nurse Ratchett, of course.
There is no rhyme or reason to this, just whatever happens to cross my mind.
Friday, December 12, 2014
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Kidnapped by life...AGAIN!
I must be the most prolific kidnap victim in the world. Every time I write a blog entry, Life comes along and drags me away, kicking and screaming. But this time, I've had good reason.
Since the beginning of this year, I've felt sicker and sicker. I gained 40 pounds in less than 6 months. (That ain't right!). I could barely move or walk. And breathing? Fuhgeddaboudit! My doctor said it was age and inactivity, my metabolism just didn't work like it used to.
One morning, September 8th, to be exact, my caregiver arrived and noticed that I could barely breathe, and that I was in severe pain. She said, "Enough, we're going to the hospital NOW" So off I went in an ambulance to the ER with that stinky oxygen up my nose.
After a bunch of poking and prodding it was determined that I have liver disease. Cirrhosis to be exact. I was quite surprised since I VERY rarely drink (1 or 2 a year). It can be caused by several things, drinking, infection, and in my case fatty liver disease. All those years of chicken fried steak and pasta and banana pudding had caught up with me.
All this caused me to have acites which is the accumulation of fluids between the lining of the belly and the organs. This explains why I looked like I was 9 months pregnant in a matter of weeks.
When I was at the hospital I had what I call a belly tap. My son, the nursing student, has a bigger word for it, but I don't recall what it is. Anyway, they took a long needle and poked it into my belly. The needle was attached to a length of fishtank tubing which was attached to a Mason jar. They sucked out 8 liters of fluid. EIGHT. That's like 4 big bottles of Mountain Dew. I went back to my bed 17 pounds lighter.
Long story short (too late for that..I know) I had to lose weight or die. I already had scarring to my liver which is not a good thing. Luckily I had not passed the point of no return, and I still had a chance to turn things around. If I could lose the weight, my liver could heal itself.
Sooooo, my life has changed. I'm walking laps in the pool for an hour three times a week. My younger son, who is very much into the healthy lifestyle, has become my nutritionist. He's teaching me how to eat healthy. Not necessarily counting things (except for sodium) but how to give my body what it needs. And how to do it for the rest of my life.
With the handful of pills I take every day, the exercise, and the advice from my darlin' boy, I'm down 84 pounds since the 8th of September. My clothes are falling down, including the FIVE, count 'em, FIVE new pair of jeans I bought right before my diagnosis. Now, as my Daddy used to say, "Those pants look like a sow and ten little pigs moved out of 'em" I'm wearing clothes I haven't worn since 2006.
Now that you know more about liver disease than you ever wanted to know, I'll just say thanks for sticking around, and the next time Life kidnaps me, go ahead and pay the ransom, Honey,....Mama needs new clothes.
Since the beginning of this year, I've felt sicker and sicker. I gained 40 pounds in less than 6 months. (That ain't right!). I could barely move or walk. And breathing? Fuhgeddaboudit! My doctor said it was age and inactivity, my metabolism just didn't work like it used to.
One morning, September 8th, to be exact, my caregiver arrived and noticed that I could barely breathe, and that I was in severe pain. She said, "Enough, we're going to the hospital NOW" So off I went in an ambulance to the ER with that stinky oxygen up my nose.
After a bunch of poking and prodding it was determined that I have liver disease. Cirrhosis to be exact. I was quite surprised since I VERY rarely drink (1 or 2 a year). It can be caused by several things, drinking, infection, and in my case fatty liver disease. All those years of chicken fried steak and pasta and banana pudding had caught up with me.
All this caused me to have acites which is the accumulation of fluids between the lining of the belly and the organs. This explains why I looked like I was 9 months pregnant in a matter of weeks.
When I was at the hospital I had what I call a belly tap. My son, the nursing student, has a bigger word for it, but I don't recall what it is. Anyway, they took a long needle and poked it into my belly. The needle was attached to a length of fishtank tubing which was attached to a Mason jar. They sucked out 8 liters of fluid. EIGHT. That's like 4 big bottles of Mountain Dew. I went back to my bed 17 pounds lighter.
Long story short (too late for that..I know) I had to lose weight or die. I already had scarring to my liver which is not a good thing. Luckily I had not passed the point of no return, and I still had a chance to turn things around. If I could lose the weight, my liver could heal itself.
Sooooo, my life has changed. I'm walking laps in the pool for an hour three times a week. My younger son, who is very much into the healthy lifestyle, has become my nutritionist. He's teaching me how to eat healthy. Not necessarily counting things (except for sodium) but how to give my body what it needs. And how to do it for the rest of my life.
With the handful of pills I take every day, the exercise, and the advice from my darlin' boy, I'm down 84 pounds since the 8th of September. My clothes are falling down, including the FIVE, count 'em, FIVE new pair of jeans I bought right before my diagnosis. Now, as my Daddy used to say, "Those pants look like a sow and ten little pigs moved out of 'em" I'm wearing clothes I haven't worn since 2006.
Now that you know more about liver disease than you ever wanted to know, I'll just say thanks for sticking around, and the next time Life kidnaps me, go ahead and pay the ransom, Honey,....Mama needs new clothes.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Stressing Over Stress Tests
When last we parted, I was scheduled for a nuclear stress test. Boy, was I stressing, too!. My idea of a stress test was for some swarthy doctor with a maniacal laugh to shoot me up with God knows what, bring me to the brink of a heart attack, and then HOPE to be able to stop it before it happened. Everyone kept telling me it wasn't like that at all, but I knew they were lying.
When I got to the cardiologist's office, I was first fitted with a lovely little IV in the back of my hand, injected with some kind of atomic Kickapoo Joy Juice, and sent back to the waiting room, where I noticed that everyone else had their own little hand IV. At least I wouldn't die alone.
My turn came and I walked to my doom. I was then instructed to climb (HA!!!) into this chair that looked like some kind of torture device, put my forehead against the front, and hang my arms over the side. And DON"T MOVE.
Then it began. The chair started to spin. It went left, then right, then up, then down. Almost like a carnival ride. I actually started to have a little fun. And then it was over and I had to climb down. (HA!!!)
The second part was just like a regular EKG. I'm not sure it turned out 100% accurate because my nurse was this dark eyed handsome man who surely sent my ticker into a world of it's own.
I kept waiting for the heart attack part, but it never came.
The other part I'm still waiting for is the super power part. One would think that if one were injected with nuclear waste, one would at least come out of it with Spidey webs, or invisibility or something. Everybody keeps telling me it isn't like that, but I just know they're lying.
When I got to the cardiologist's office, I was first fitted with a lovely little IV in the back of my hand, injected with some kind of atomic Kickapoo Joy Juice, and sent back to the waiting room, where I noticed that everyone else had their own little hand IV. At least I wouldn't die alone.
My turn came and I walked to my doom. I was then instructed to climb (HA!!!) into this chair that looked like some kind of torture device, put my forehead against the front, and hang my arms over the side. And DON"T MOVE.
Then it began. The chair started to spin. It went left, then right, then up, then down. Almost like a carnival ride. I actually started to have a little fun. And then it was over and I had to climb down. (HA!!!)
The second part was just like a regular EKG. I'm not sure it turned out 100% accurate because my nurse was this dark eyed handsome man who surely sent my ticker into a world of it's own.
I kept waiting for the heart attack part, but it never came.
The other part I'm still waiting for is the super power part. One would think that if one were injected with nuclear waste, one would at least come out of it with Spidey webs, or invisibility or something. Everybody keeps telling me it isn't like that, but I just know they're lying.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Did Ya Ever Have One of Those Days?
You know the kind of day I mean. The one that starts the night before and just gets worse from there.
That's the kind of day today has been.
Let me start off by saying that I am not a wimp. I don't cry at the drop of a hat and I don't turn everything over to Dave to handle. I have birthed babies and dealt with the federal government and won. It takes a bit to get me more than slightly pissed off.
I went to bed early last night. I just couldn't keep my eyes open. So my 2 AM bedtime turned into a 9:30 bedtime. I slept like a baby. And I don't mean like one of those sweet little Nighttime Pampers babies. I mean one of those babies who sleep 2 hours then wakes up and cries. The pain in my back just would not go away.
Then I got up at 7 AM, which is just not natural for me. But having spent the night in Benedryl Hell, there was no more sleep for me. Just as well, I had things to do. An unscheduled trip to the grocery store was one of them. NOT my favorite thing to do on a good day.
First on the agenda, however, was a return visit from the maintenance man. On Tuesday, Michelle, my caregiver, finished all my laundry, 3 whole loads. When that was over she told me there was water on the floor under the washer. Great. A call was put in to Rico Suave, the maintenance man, who said it sounded like the pump was gone on my washer. Towels were spread out and Sears called to come fix it. The next morning, not only were the towels soaked, but so was the carpeting in front of the laundry closet and into the hallway outside the front door. (By the way, his name isn't really Rico Suave, but he said if I ever wrote about him, that's what he wanted to be called.)
Rico came back this morning and cut 3 holes in my bathroom wall, and confirmed that nothing was wrong with my washer, but there was a leak on the 3rd floor coming straight down to us. Sears was cancelled. Did you know that the inside of the walls of an apartment don't smell daisy fresh? Neither did I. They have kind of a dusty, spicy smell. Probably not good for my COPD.
This afternoon the carpet guy came. First, he wanted me to move a chair and some stuff from in front of our unused patio door, so that he could run hoses through it to suck the water out of my carpet. I explained (complained) that I wasn't going to move anything, and that we have cats and couldn't have the door open.
So he decided to come through the hallway entrance door. I was becoming more and more annoyed by the whole situation, and the fact that I could not understand his strong accent didn't help. Heck, I have a hard enough time hearing English.
This was about the time I decided I had had enough. I was annoyed and more than slightly pissed off. I told Dave I was leaving for Canasta night 30 minutes early.
Now let me explain something about my Dave. He is one of the calmest, most easy-going people you'd ever want to meet. An excellent quality for anyone to have, right? Well, today, that was his downfall. Trying to calm me, and not understanding why I was so annoyed, wasn't working for him. "Now, Baby, there's nothing to get all upset about...."....WRONG!!!...I had plenty to get upset about, I earned my annoyance, and by God I was going to have it!! I didn't need a reason, and I didn't need to justify it.
So I left for Canasta. My partner and I won both games. I was feeling better after spending a few hours with my friends.
Then I came home to my carpeting ripped up, exposing tack strips, things moved into the kitchen that just didn't belong there, and an industrial fan that is blowing on high to dry the carpet and steal my sanity.
Did I mention that I was already anxious before all this started? I'm having a nuclear stress test on Monday. They are going to put some kind of atomic isotope into me, then watch the fun and games that it does to my heart. When it's all over, I'd better have some kind of super power....webs, flying, turning green when I get mad....something. I'll let you know.
That's the kind of day today has been.
Let me start off by saying that I am not a wimp. I don't cry at the drop of a hat and I don't turn everything over to Dave to handle. I have birthed babies and dealt with the federal government and won. It takes a bit to get me more than slightly pissed off.
I went to bed early last night. I just couldn't keep my eyes open. So my 2 AM bedtime turned into a 9:30 bedtime. I slept like a baby. And I don't mean like one of those sweet little Nighttime Pampers babies. I mean one of those babies who sleep 2 hours then wakes up and cries. The pain in my back just would not go away.
Then I got up at 7 AM, which is just not natural for me. But having spent the night in Benedryl Hell, there was no more sleep for me. Just as well, I had things to do. An unscheduled trip to the grocery store was one of them. NOT my favorite thing to do on a good day.
First on the agenda, however, was a return visit from the maintenance man. On Tuesday, Michelle, my caregiver, finished all my laundry, 3 whole loads. When that was over she told me there was water on the floor under the washer. Great. A call was put in to Rico Suave, the maintenance man, who said it sounded like the pump was gone on my washer. Towels were spread out and Sears called to come fix it. The next morning, not only were the towels soaked, but so was the carpeting in front of the laundry closet and into the hallway outside the front door. (By the way, his name isn't really Rico Suave, but he said if I ever wrote about him, that's what he wanted to be called.)
Rico came back this morning and cut 3 holes in my bathroom wall, and confirmed that nothing was wrong with my washer, but there was a leak on the 3rd floor coming straight down to us. Sears was cancelled. Did you know that the inside of the walls of an apartment don't smell daisy fresh? Neither did I. They have kind of a dusty, spicy smell. Probably not good for my COPD.
This afternoon the carpet guy came. First, he wanted me to move a chair and some stuff from in front of our unused patio door, so that he could run hoses through it to suck the water out of my carpet. I explained (complained) that I wasn't going to move anything, and that we have cats and couldn't have the door open.
So he decided to come through the hallway entrance door. I was becoming more and more annoyed by the whole situation, and the fact that I could not understand his strong accent didn't help. Heck, I have a hard enough time hearing English.
This was about the time I decided I had had enough. I was annoyed and more than slightly pissed off. I told Dave I was leaving for Canasta night 30 minutes early.
Now let me explain something about my Dave. He is one of the calmest, most easy-going people you'd ever want to meet. An excellent quality for anyone to have, right? Well, today, that was his downfall. Trying to calm me, and not understanding why I was so annoyed, wasn't working for him. "Now, Baby, there's nothing to get all upset about...."....WRONG!!!...I had plenty to get upset about, I earned my annoyance, and by God I was going to have it!! I didn't need a reason, and I didn't need to justify it.
So I left for Canasta. My partner and I won both games. I was feeling better after spending a few hours with my friends.
Then I came home to my carpeting ripped up, exposing tack strips, things moved into the kitchen that just didn't belong there, and an industrial fan that is blowing on high to dry the carpet and steal my sanity.
Did I mention that I was already anxious before all this started? I'm having a nuclear stress test on Monday. They are going to put some kind of atomic isotope into me, then watch the fun and games that it does to my heart. When it's all over, I'd better have some kind of super power....webs, flying, turning green when I get mad....something. I'll let you know.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
My Top 10 Nuggets of Wisdom (For Today)
I'm feeling kind of 'wise' today so I thought I'd share some of my wisdom. Some is hard-earned...some is just common sense.
1. Never have a name tattooed on your body unless it's your parent or your child. Those are the only two relationships that never end. Spouses and boy/girlfriends come and go, but ink is forever. You could have a sibling, but that's kinda weird.
2. If someone offers you a breath mint, take it. There's probably a good reason they offered it.
3. Buy a full length mirror, and use it. A good friend once said, "Just because they make it in your size, doesn't mean it fits." (Thanks, Shelly)
4. It's nobody's business whether or not you have children. You don't have to answer if they ask. Some people can live their whole life without having children. To have them just because someone else thinks you should, or to please someone else, is a big mistake. Huge. Not one you can take back. If you know in your heart that you don't want to be a parent, don't become one.
5. Same for getting married. You don't have to answer the "When are you getting married" question. It's no one else's business.
6. Be considerate of other people. Not everyone wants to hear your music blasting the pictures off the wall, nor should they be expected to clean up your mess.
7. Along that same line, be tolerant of each other. If you live in an apartment, for instance, you're going to occasionally hear someone hanging a picture, or smell a pot of cabbage cooking. It's called living and everyone is going to do it now and then. No need to bitch and gripe about it unless it becomes a constant annoyance. Know when the line is crossed.
8. Be kind to animals. That should go without saying. You don't have to like them, but you should never ever hurt them just because you don't. I don't particularly like small ankle nipping annoying dogs, but I don't kick them, I just avoid them.
9. Never park in a handicapped space unless you are truly handicapped and have the placard or plate to prove it. Just because you're 'not going to be long' isn't a good enough reason. You may never know the pain you've caused someone who really needs it.
10. Don't dismiss old people as useless or stupid. They probably have experienced more than you ever will, and done it without all the technology that the younger generations have come to rely on. Sit down and talk with an older person some time. Ask them questions...What did you do on a date? What was your first job? Where was your favorite place to live? ...you just may learn something.
I'm sure I'll have more some other time. I don't feel nugget-less yet.
1. Never have a name tattooed on your body unless it's your parent or your child. Those are the only two relationships that never end. Spouses and boy/girlfriends come and go, but ink is forever. You could have a sibling, but that's kinda weird.
2. If someone offers you a breath mint, take it. There's probably a good reason they offered it.
3. Buy a full length mirror, and use it. A good friend once said, "Just because they make it in your size, doesn't mean it fits." (Thanks, Shelly)
4. It's nobody's business whether or not you have children. You don't have to answer if they ask. Some people can live their whole life without having children. To have them just because someone else thinks you should, or to please someone else, is a big mistake. Huge. Not one you can take back. If you know in your heart that you don't want to be a parent, don't become one.
5. Same for getting married. You don't have to answer the "When are you getting married" question. It's no one else's business.
6. Be considerate of other people. Not everyone wants to hear your music blasting the pictures off the wall, nor should they be expected to clean up your mess.
7. Along that same line, be tolerant of each other. If you live in an apartment, for instance, you're going to occasionally hear someone hanging a picture, or smell a pot of cabbage cooking. It's called living and everyone is going to do it now and then. No need to bitch and gripe about it unless it becomes a constant annoyance. Know when the line is crossed.
8. Be kind to animals. That should go without saying. You don't have to like them, but you should never ever hurt them just because you don't. I don't particularly like small ankle nipping annoying dogs, but I don't kick them, I just avoid them.
9. Never park in a handicapped space unless you are truly handicapped and have the placard or plate to prove it. Just because you're 'not going to be long' isn't a good enough reason. You may never know the pain you've caused someone who really needs it.
10. Don't dismiss old people as useless or stupid. They probably have experienced more than you ever will, and done it without all the technology that the younger generations have come to rely on. Sit down and talk with an older person some time. Ask them questions...What did you do on a date? What was your first job? Where was your favorite place to live? ...you just may learn something.
I'm sure I'll have more some other time. I don't feel nugget-less yet.
Monday, February 10, 2014
I'm Back...Again
I know..I know...I tend to disappear for a while and then I come back here and tell you I'm sorry, that I've been sooooo busy, I just haven't had the time to write.
Lies...all of it...lies.
I've become hooked on Facebook, and haven't taken the time to do anything else. It's like the rest of the Internet just doesn't exist. (Except Google)
I get on to see what my old friends from back home are doing. I private message my sons, and comment on their posts, which probably embarrasses the hell out of them. (Tough.). I learned that girls who were snooty bitches in high school are now snooty bitches with 40 years experience. I play Criminal Case and a couple of other games. (NOT Candy Crush...that was created by Satan himself to torment the lost souls of Hell)
Actually Facebook is the best way I have to keep up with what's going on in my scattered family. Some people get their feelings all hurt when they hear news through Facebook or an email. I don't...I'm just glad to GET news.
I'm retired, but my family and friends are not. They're busy with their lives. My sons are young, and they have jobs and school, children and houses to take care of. I remember what that was like. Hell, they barely have time to sleep. Who's got time to stop and pick up a telephone? But a private message that says, "Hey Mom..just wanted to say hi, I'm fine. Kids (or cats) are fine..Love you"...that's gold to me.
So...here I am again...apologizing for my absence. I can't guarantee it won't happen again, but at least you'll know where to find me.
Lies...all of it...lies.
I've become hooked on Facebook, and haven't taken the time to do anything else. It's like the rest of the Internet just doesn't exist. (Except Google)
I get on to see what my old friends from back home are doing. I private message my sons, and comment on their posts, which probably embarrasses the hell out of them. (Tough.). I learned that girls who were snooty bitches in high school are now snooty bitches with 40 years experience. I play Criminal Case and a couple of other games. (NOT Candy Crush...that was created by Satan himself to torment the lost souls of Hell)
Actually Facebook is the best way I have to keep up with what's going on in my scattered family. Some people get their feelings all hurt when they hear news through Facebook or an email. I don't...I'm just glad to GET news.
I'm retired, but my family and friends are not. They're busy with their lives. My sons are young, and they have jobs and school, children and houses to take care of. I remember what that was like. Hell, they barely have time to sleep. Who's got time to stop and pick up a telephone? But a private message that says, "Hey Mom..just wanted to say hi, I'm fine. Kids (or cats) are fine..Love you"...that's gold to me.
So...here I am again...apologizing for my absence. I can't guarantee it won't happen again, but at least you'll know where to find me.
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