Back Home

When I looked at my blog today and saw the last post was on September 26, I became aware of how these last weeks have slipped so quickly by - life can be like that sometimes. I have been very ill (yes even more "ill" than normal!). I've survived 2 bouts of Septic Shock, each one requiring a tour of duty in ICU. The source, I'm told is Urinary Sepsis, but honestly I don't know how the doctors can be certain that the infection started there. The infection got into my bloodstream and spread to all of my organs. That's what they call 'septic shock'. There is a blood test for Lactic Acid that the doctors check if you are in sepsis. Normal is below 1, and mine was 3.6 at the highest. The doctor said that I have a strain of e Coli. I've heard that Apples and undercooked beef are prime sources for e Coli, and I've been eating a lot of apples lately, so I wonder if that is where it came from. Personally, I think I ingested an amount that a healthy person would be able to tolerate, but which I, in my immune suppressed state could not. I hope and pray that it is under control now and am so happy to be home with my family. I still feel very weak, dizzy, and I have pain, but it's getting a little better day by day.

During my first hospital stay, I was feeling much better on my last day and started watching the Home Shopping Network (DANGER!). Since I have my Visa card number (MORE DANGER!), I hopped onto the phone and started buying "things" I just "couldn't do without". It's a dangerous thing for me to be feeling better, but still under the influence of Dialudid, and all alone in a hospital room. Most of the things I bought are very nice and useful. One of my more questionable purchases was a 2 1/2 foot tall fountain featuring a fairy with butterfly wings and lots of tiffany style glass work and a tiffany lamp that shines down on it all. I love fountains, and also I had this idea that my kitty would find it and drink from the fresh, flowing water. However, when I tried to introduce her to her little oasis, she went ballistic and clawed her way up and over me as fast as she could go. Acting out the very definition of insanity, I actually tried this a second time, with exactly the same results. I think it was the sound of running water that scared her - she thought she was about to get a bath. Hmmmm..... it's like my daughter said, "I don't really think it's something we NEEDED", when I asked her what she thought of it. She was trying so hard to be polite and not burst my bubble. Oh well, it's here now and not going back - it'll be a good conversation piece, as it sits in our dining room faithfully pouring forth it's water over the years. It's definitely unique, and our guests aren't likely to have seen one anywhere else....

In between the two bouts with sepsis, I have vague recollections of receiving a lot of packages in the mail (from my shopping spree), talking to Bucky and Ruth one day, trying out my new steam mop (yes, another HSN purchase), working on paperwork for my Disability Insurer, a few doctor visits, Amanda getting sick, and me just generally feeling cruddy and trying to make it through the days one at a time. Then came the second round of Sepsis and the whirlwind of all of that. It feels like you get sucked into some ailment, then into the hospital, and everything is a blur and then you are plopped out on the sidewalk and sent home. There is so much I miss or forget, so many loose ends. I know it's frustrating for my family to have to tell me the same things over and over, and I pray for their patience and understanding - I really am trying to do my best, it's just soooo hard.

I was shocked to realize that Summer had completely given way to Autumn during my illness. There is so much I missed, not the least of which is helping my son with his schoolwork and spending time with my daughter. We had planned to spend the whole day Friday Nov 2 together, but I ended up in the hospital. I also blitzed right through my husbands BIG 60th birthday, although I was relieved that I had been able to obtain a special gift for him months before.

Another thing I lost track of is the mountain of documents that have to be provided to my Disability Insurer by Monday, Nov. 12. Michael requested all of the documents for the past year and they were all stacked up here waiting for me to do something with them. Mom took them to Kinko's today to get them all copied. It will cost around $60 for the copies, plus we've already spent almost $300 on the documents themselves. Then I'll have to overnight them to Liberty Mutual since we're almost upon the deadline now. I'm sure that won't be cheap since the documents weigh over 7 pounds (and this is only partial records for the last 12 months!). Anyway, it's almost done now and I won't have it hanging over my head (until the next go-round!). It does make my head hurt sometimes, just trying to stay afloat in the mounds of paperwork, Medicare "stuff", medical bills, pharmacy bills, etc. I just have to take it a day at a time and do what I'm able to do for each day.

I miss swimming too. I haven't been in nearly 2 months, and it's the only physical outlet my joints will tolerate. I'm hoping to get back over the weekend or early next week. When I make it to the pool I'll know for sure that I'm on the up side of this ordeal. I can't wait!

I have no travel plans for the fall, but most of my family will travel to the "home place" in Louisiana for Thanksgiving. This includes my 20 year old daughter and her boyfriend. It's his first trip over, and a traditional rite of passage for anyone that is seriously dating a member of the family. It's quite a change from life around metro Atlanta, and there have been some that just couldn't deal with the shock of it all. I don't believe this is the case with her boyfriend; they have a very stable relationship and he seems to simply adore her. No matter what a shock the backwoods of Louisiana are to him, I think he'll do whatever it takes to adjust. I really wish I could be there. I know it will be a memorable trip, full of fun and lots of stories to share afterwards. I wish could join them, but simply must sit out this time around. I have been blessed to visit twice this year, and that will likely be the best I can do.

It's great to be home and back among "the living".

Blessed

I am truly blessed. God showers me with blessings every day and I am surrounded by his love demonstrated daily by my family and Christian friends, and even by strangers I meet along the way.

Two weeks ago, Amanda and I went to the mall. These days, I get to the mall perhaps 3 times a year because I can't walk long enough to go on a "normal" shopping trip. In order to go mall, I check out a complimentary wheelchair at Customer Service, and my companion pushes me around. This is one of those things that used to embarrass me so much that I just didn't go to the mall at all. I've learned not to be embarrassed about it. I'm grateful for the availability of the chairs, and everyone that has taken me has been very gracious about pushing me around and seems to genuinely enjoy helping me. No one has ever complained, though I know the chair gets hard to push when we go into carpeted stores.

Well, back to my story. Amanda got a job as a hostess at Smokejack, a local "upscale" BBQ restaurant. They told her to dress "nicely", and that no jeans were allowed for hostesses. While the other staff often dress much more casually, the host/hostess is expected to dress a little better, as they are in most restaurants. You'd have to know Amanda to know that her closet was simply not "hostess ready". She needed a few items to mix and match so that she could dress properly for her new job.

So we went to the mall together, Amanda pushing me in the wheelchair while we shopped. We went to Ann Taylor first, and lucked out right away, finding a perfect skirt and awesome top style that she liked so much, she got two of them (in different colors). We then went all over the mall, but didn't find anythng else.

At the very end of our shopping trip, we neared the exit where the Sharper Image store is located. I asked to go into Sharper Image, because I really like their "gadgets". We went in and Amanda patiently maneuvered me around the store, taking me to each niche and corner that caught my eye. Right in the middle of the store, there were these very luxurious all-leather massage chairs. The chairs somewhat resemble recliners, but are not fashionable enough to put in a living room or den - you can tell by looking at them that they are designed first for function, and second for looks.

I sat in a black leather massage chair that had full head to toe coverage. The massage in that chair was - well unbelievable. I've been to MANY spas and paid for MANY massages, and the quality of the massage in this chair equaled any massage I've ever received. It was truly wonderful, and I thought that it would be great especially when I'm having "bad days" with my joints and muscles.

Somehow I knew right then and there that I was going to get this chair. How? I didn't know. The price was $4,000.00 - yes you read it right and I didn't mis-type - it was $4,000.00! The price was really irrelevant, however, because I had an assurance so strongly in my heart - the Holy Spirit was telling me the chair would be mine. It was as if the Father was saying "I know what you need, and I will provide it." Days went by and I shared my "chair" experience with friends and family, each time stating confidently that I knew the chair would be provided for me. I didn't know how, but I knew it would be.

Then came last Saturday (Aug 18). Amazingly, the chair was marked down to 1/2 price because a new model was coming in. On that very same day, the chair was purchased FOR ME. I was given the reciept, and the store is calling me today (Aug 20) to arrange a delivery time. I am blessed; truely blessed. God knows my every need, wish, and desire, and he provides without fail.

There aren't too many people that would go out and buy a $2,00.00 chair to give to another person who is not even a relative, and I am 100% certain that the person(s) that bought it for me was simply being obedient to the Holy Spirit - this person was obedient to God and spent their hard-earned money on what can only be described as an exquisite gift JUST FOR ME. I feel so blessed and grateful. I know the chair will help me so much when I'm in pain, and may even help me to take less pain medication! It will also help Michael with his constant struggle with back pain.

God is good, all the time.

P.S. I think my bedroom will become very popular soon! Please stop by and enjoy a massage in my new chair, and I'll throw in a Spa foot treatment - Guaranteed to please!

A Tale of Kitties

We've had a sad run of luck with our kitty cats lately. It's so strange, because Amanda had Domino until she passed quietly in her sleep at the healthy age of 16 1/2 (very old for a cat - average lifespan for an outdoor cat is 8 years, for an indoor cat is 12-15 years). We rescued Domino from a family that was moving into dorms that didn't allow pets. If we hadn't taken her in, she was going to the pound the next day. Instead, she came and lived with us for 13 1/2 years and was well loved and cared for. She started out as an outdoor cat, but as she aged she gradually became an indoor cat for her own safety and well being. My sister in law, Michelle, was calling everyone she knew to find a home for Domino, and it was perfect timing for us. We had recently moved from an apartment (not cat friendly) to a house with a huge yard, and Amanda really wanted a cat.

Then came the string of bad luck. First there was Felix. We came home from a trip and a carpenter who had been working in our house introduced us to a new family member that had taken up residence. This kitty was a boy, and only a few months old - but old enough to survive without his mother. Somehow we became aware that the kitty in fact had a home, and that he had a litter of brothers and sisters, and that his name was Joey. So we contacted "Miss Angel" who lives in the next neighborhood over and reluctantly returned Joey to her. We had already fallen in love with him - he had such a great personality and exuded health.

"Miss Angel" was so happy to have him back that she gave Will a reward of $10 - BIG BUCKS for a 7 year old. She also let us have the pick of the rest of the litter. Joey's brother, Felix, was the obvious choice. Full of health and personality, we warmed up to each other right away. So Felix came to live with us. Felix was a beautiful dark gray tabby that had a loud purr and seemed to say "Roy" frequently. He was very opinionated, confident, and totally independent.

Felix quickly grew to his full size - which was considerable. He was a true TOM CAT. Big, strong, independent, and prone to wandering the neighborhood in search for conquests (both female felines and small birds, chipmunks, etc.). Hoping to tame him a bit and keep him from wandering into harm, we had him neutered. Neutering had absolutely zero effect on Felix. He continued to wander, and his trips lasted longer and longer until one day he didn't return.

We put up signs all around, drove around looking, and even visited "Miss Angel". Strangely enough, Joey and Felix left for good the same week. Afterwards, there were a few possible sightings at a distance, but nothing to be sure of. I choose to believe the two brothers are off living a great Tom Cat life with lots of conquests and lively memories in the making.

When we finally gave up on the return of Felix, we took a trip to the Atlanta Humane Society. Will picked out a sad little Grey tabby named 'Rufus'. Something was wrong with one of his eyes; it was milky and he couldn't see properly out of it, but Will fell in love with him, so we brought Rufus home. We took him to the vet for the obligatory neutering required by the pound, all the necessary shots, etc. and began our life together.

One day something frightened Rufus and he climbed the TALLEST tree in our yard, which was bare due to Winter, and then couldn't get himself down. We got the longest ladders we could find and tried coaxing him with the smelliest fish we could find. Nothing worked. Up in the top of that cold, barren tree he stayed, night and day for 3 full days- BRRRR!! One day when Nana was over we were looking up and calling to him and he decided to relieve himself at that precise moment. A vigorous stream was emitted for what seemed like several minutes, and we were grateful that we weren't atop the ladder in the cold, shivering with a bowl of stinky fish in one hand and hanging onto the freezing ladder with the other (Amanda says things like that always happen when Nana is around). On the forth day we gave up and started calling professionals. There aren't that many "professional cat removers" in the yellow pages, but we found a professional tree climber who charged us $400.00 to scale the tree and retrieve Rufus. After that, I never saw him climb another tree.

Rufus came to an early, abrupt, and sad end, however. He was an "in and out" cat, so it wasn't unusual for him to sleep outdoors when the weather was warm. One time he stayed gone for 3 days. I knew something was wrong; he never stayed gone that long. Will went out in the back yard to feed the dogs and came back in yelling "Mom! It's Rufus", and he was crying. I rushed out back and found Rufus's poor lifeless body being tossed around by the dogs like a rag doll. We never determined exactly what happened; whether he met an unfortunate end prior to being found by the dogs or whether the dogs had, in fact contributed to his demise. I lifted his lifeless body and put it outside the fence in preparation for burial so the dogs could no longer play with it. When Michael came home, he buried Rufus at the base of the big tree that he had inhabited just a few months prior.

Will was heartbroken, but went on the lookout right away for a new cat. He found a "free kitten" ad for a Calico and called the man that had listed it (All this at age 8 without me even knowing about it!) Apparently, a young calico passed by this man's yard every evening and he had been feeding her dinner. This had gone on for several weeks, and the man was going to take her to the pound the next day if no home could be found. I told him we would take her in (I am partial to Calicos), and the man agreed to restrain her when she came by for her dinner that night. So after a full day of work, Michael (the dog lover) drove over an hour each way across town in the cold and pouring rain to pick up this little wandering calico. When he got her home, we realized she was really a Tortie, not a Calico. She was very dark and mysterious looking with piercing green eyes. She had obviously lived "in the wild" of suburban Atlanta and was very skittish. For weeks, you would enter our home and never know we had a second cat - she stayed hidden away and only rarely would we catch a glimpse of her - a quick dark blur running from one hiding place to another. For his own reasons, Will named her 'Muffin'.

Gradually, by spending A LOT of time with her, Muffin came out of her shell. As she did, we began to realize that we had gotten more than we bargained for when we adopted her. Muffin was PREGNANT and getting more pudgy by the day. We had no idea how far along she was, but as we sat at the year end program at Mill Springs Academy, Amanda leaned over and said - "Muffin's having her babies in my closet". Now how did she know that? When we got back home, we all went up to Amanda's room and BINGO - there was Muffin in the corner of Amanda's closet, partway through giving birth to a litter of 7 kittens.

Muffin's litter - May 2005

All of this when we still had carpet on the floors! What a mess! (We have since replaced the carpet with hard floors). When she was between kittens, I gently moved her and her litter into a large plastic bin that we had been preparing to be a kitty incubator. Will and I rolled the bin into my room and stayed up past midnight (on a school night!) until all of Muffin's babies were born. I kept feeling her abdomen to see if more kitties were on the way, and we were both exhausted when I finally pronounced "No More!".

As nature goes, some of Muffins' babies survived and some didn't. From the outset, Will begged to keep "just one", PLEASE. When the kittens were old enough to separate from mom, we began finding homes for them. By that time, Will was particularly attached to a male orange medium long haired tabby, and had already named him Garfield. What's a mom to do? I let him keep Garfield. So we were a 3-cat family: Domino, Muffin, and Garfield. Domino remained, and always was, Amanda's cat. Muffin was "sort of" my cat, and Garfield was Will's cat. Surprisingly, they all cohabitated without incident. Basically, Muffin and Garfield hung out together and Domino ignored them both.

Domino had been an "in and out" cat when she was younger, and we had never had a problem, so we allowed Muffin and Garfield to be "in and out" cats too. Then came the night that Muffin didn't come in. I knew in my heart something bad had happened because she ALWAYS came in and slept in the room with me. Anytime I awoke in the night I would look around and she would be sitting there watching over me. As hours turned to days, dread built in my heart until Michael came in from the back yard with grim news. Another tragedy - it began to look like the dogs were the culprits. But why in the world would a cat go back there? And cats usually win when sparring with a dog because they can climb trees and are so dexterous with their claws. I collapsed on the stairs and broke into sobs. Big, hard, inconsolable sobs. My sweet little Muffin, rescued from the streets and turned into a friend with tons of time and patience - was gone.

Michael buried her under the "Cat Tree" alongside Rufus. We never told Will - I couldn't bring myself to do it. He thinks she has wandered to a new home, and I guess in a way she has.

This left us with Domino and Garfield. With his mother gone, Garfield seemed lost and needy. I couldn't help bonding with him. We gradually developed a routine and seemed to have a unique way of communicating with each other. Meanwhile, Domino was getting on in age and more feeble every day. We tried to keep her comfortable and excused her occasional mishaps - she had been a good and loyal friend for so many years and you don't just walk away from a friend because they are old and feeble and can't make it to the bathroom in time. Finally, in the Summer of 2006, Domino passed away quietly on my bed while I held her. She didn't seem to suffer at all. She took her place next to Muffin and Rufus under the "Cat Tree".

Our Beloved Domino - 12/1990 - 7/2006

That left us a one cat family - Garfield got all of our love and attention and warmed even my dog-loving husband's heart with his unusually tender and "non-cat" ways. Unfortunately, Garfield LOVED to go outside, and would leap at any open door or window to get there. Once outside, he would run around in the front yard, but wouldn't come in or allow himself to be caught until he was completely exhausted and hungry. It always upset me when he got out, because of the fate suffered by Rufus and Muffin. A couple of months ago, he escaped through the front door and has never come back home. He played in our front yard for a couple of days, then just disappeared. I grieved, I cried, and I am still heartbroken. We put up pictures, fliers, and went all over our area of town calling for him and looking for him, smelly Vienna sausages in hand. A couple of people called us and believed they had seen him, but by the time we got there he was gone. That makes me hopeful that he has been taken in by some one and hasn't met with any harm. I choose to believe that. Garfield was the most loyal, gentle, loving cat I've ever had the privilege of knowing.

Now we have been a family with NO CATS for the last 6-8 weeks. That all changed today. We took a trip back to the pound with the intention of selecting a Female Kitten. Female so there would be no spraying and perhaps less tendency to wander. Kitten so we could bring her up "our way". We got there and the most striking long haired Calico/Tortie looked up at me with big golden eyes and I was hooked. Her name is Hazel, though we plan to change it once we live with her a bit and figure out her personality. We took Hazel into a private "petting room" where Will, Michael, and I were able to spend some time with her. She settled down quickly and started nuzzling against us. She clearly had been loved and not abused. The owner had surrendered her to the pound due to allergies. Although she's not a kitten (she's 4 years old), we still bonded and were happy to bring her home. After the requisite paperwork, payment, interview, collaring, and crating, we headed out. Just before reaching the front door of the Atlanta Humane Society, the crate door fell off and Hazel lept towards the open front door. I made a lunge for her and landed flat on my face but with enough of her in my stretched out hands to restrain her from flight. What a sight that must have been, me and the cat all over the floor with my oxygen tank gone flying. Will got Hazel and Michael helped me to my feet.

That was when we decided to purchase a $5.00 cardboard cat crate, put Hazel in it, and try our exit again. This time we made it to the van, and subsequently back home without incident. Hazel is mostly hiding, with an occasional dart from one place to another. She has been introduced to her facilities, and has returned to them several times, so it seems things are progressing well. I'm not thrilled at her escape attempt at the pound; I fear it's an indicator that she'll try to get outside. I can only hope and pray that she won't. She is already spayed, shots up to date, and she has a microchip locater already implanted.

As a condition of adoption, Will promised to participate in weekly baths, which may not be Hazel's cup of tea (another reason we had planned to get a kitten). That's the best way to keep fleas and loose hair away. Hopefully she'll adjust to the baths with time.

Although I never had a cat as a child, I've always been a cat person at heart. One of the first things I did when I left home was to adopt a cat - my very first one after all those years of waiting! I admit I'm a hopeless cat lover; I'll always have one in my house.

Now I think I'll go take some pain meds (the fall did a number on my joints) and try to find Hazel and enjoy some quality mommy/kitty time.

The Brown-Eyed Girl

Mama, "Why is she BROKEN?", the girl asked, tugging on her mama's sleeve. Both of her georgous big brown eyes were intently staring at me, one arm firmly attached to mom, and the other elbow deep down the back of her pants as she scratched at some hidden irritant.

Mama was busy - too busy to answer her, too busy to even slow the frantic pace at which she pressed the clerk to continue calling all the stores for a specific garment in a specific size, just right for her. The Brown Eyed Girl scratched and stared, repeating her query to Mama at ever smaller intervals, in an ever louder voice. Mama, in her stylish clothes, fit body, and what could only be described as "shopping ferver", never missed a beat. Her efforts to find her "Perfect Blouse" were equal in intensity to her daughter's efforts to find out why the strange looking lady was "broken".

Could I feel the heat from his embarrased, red face from behind me, or was that just my imagination? I sat there in the borrowed mall wheelchair, breathing through an oxygen canula, my lap piled high with new clothes for Will, pretending not to notice that I was being stared at like some freak at a side show.

Will, who had waited patiently for weeks for me to have a "good day" so we could go to the mall. Will, who at the age of 12 has to push his mom around in a wheelchair if he wants to go to the mall. He had been so tireless, so respectful and kind during the whole shopping trip. Maybe his embarrasement was just my imagination, maybe he wasn't even paying any attention to the Brown Eyed Girl. But on the other hand, maybe he was.

After what seemed like forever, I leaned around and suggested to Will that we go to a different checkout counter. He didn't say a word, just started pushing me and we went on our way. His silence confirmed my fear, for you see, Will is never "silent". We escaped the gawking stare of the scratching, tugging, questioning Brown Eyed Girl.

But the words echo still, "Mama why is she BROKEN?"

Mama
Why
Is
She
BROKEN?

*B*R*O*K*E*N*

*B*R*O*K*E*N*

Mama

Why

Am

I

Broken?

GOD WHY AM I BROKEN?

WHY CAN'T I GET WELL OR DIE AND END THE PAIN? WHY THE BROKENESS? WHY THE MIDDLE GROUND? THE SUB-EXISTENCE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH IS NO EXISTANCE AT ALL; DYING MORE EVERY DAY, BIT BY BIT, ONE NEW DIAGNOSIS AFTER ANOTHER IN A CASCADE OF PROCEDURES, CODES, DRUGS, DOCTORS, AND HOSPITALS. TRYING TO MAINTAIN SOME TYPE OF DIGNITY AND POSITIVE OUTLOOK THROUGH IT ALL - FOR THE SAKE OF MY CHILDREN. I ADMIT THAT SOMEHOW, IN THE BACK OF MY MIND, I ALWAYS THOUGHT SLOW WASTING AWAY WAS A TORTURE UNIQUELY RESERVED FOR THE "WICKED". THAT MY LOVING GOD WOULD BLESS HIS BELIVERS WITH QUICK AND PAINLESS TRANSITIONS OUT OF THIS WORLD. I KNOW THAT WAS JUST A FANTASY, A WISH THAT I THOUGHT WOULD COME TRUE IF I HELD ONTO IT LONG ENOUGH. NOW IT HAS COME TO THIS. A WRETCHED, CRUEL EXISTANCE THAT REVOLVES AROUND PILL SCHEDULES, INJECTION SCHEDULES, TOO MUCH SLEEPING, AND A CONSTANT TETHER TO AN OXYGEN MACHINE. IS THIS MY REWARD FOR LOVING YOU? FOR WORSHIPING YOU? FOR TEACHING MY CHILDREN TO LOVE YOU? FOR BEING FAITHFUL? MAYBE IT'S TRUE THAT YOU AREN'T EVEN AWARE OF ME - ME PERSONALLY. IT'S EASIER TO BELIEVE THAT THAN TO BELIEVE YOU ARE ALLOWING THIS TO HAPPEN. I DON'T WANT TO BELIEVE THAT YOU KNOW ME PERSONALLY, THAT YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON, THAT YOU SEE MY BODY WASTING AWAY AND THE PAIN IT IS CAUSING EVERYONE. I DON'T WANT TO BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD LET THAT HAPPEN. NOT TO ME, AND NOT TO AUNT MARY, AND NOT TO OLAN, NOT TO DICK. I HAVE TRIED FOR SO LONG TO HOLD ON, TO BELIEVE, TO FIND SOMETHING GOOD IN EVERY SITUATION, BUT I AM SO TIRED, SO VERY TIRED.

WHY AM I BROKEN?
WHY IS SHE BROKEN?
WHY WERE THEY BROKEN?
WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY?

Yes, it's true I am broken. Broken from the inside out, thoroughly broken in spirit and flesh. But my broken heart aches the most of all.

Ribs

Now that I have a walker, I'm able to cook again on my good days, and so I'm cooking about 2 times a week. On Monday, Will and I went to the grocery store and bought some ribs - that's about his favorite food. I put them in marinade and planned to have ribs for dinner Monday night. Then I was reminded that it was Scout night, and Amanda said she wouldn't' be home for dinner either. So I just left the ribs in the marinade until the next opportunity for a family meal - Wednesday night. (Tuesday night never works because Amanda has Explorers).

Wednesday came, and around 1:00 I put the ribs in the oven on 200 degrees and coated them with BBQ sauce. I basted every hour or so and turned them a few times. When I pulled them out for dinner at 7:00, the meat was falling off the bone and they were bone-sucking good!Everyone pitched in and we cooked fried okra, corn on the cobb, and texas toast to go with the ribs.

Every Wednesday night at 8:30, Will has Upward Basketball practice. They use part of the time for a brief bible lesson and memory verses. During their 'serious' time, Will got distracted by some BBQ sauce on his arm. He started wiping it off with his finger and eating it - then proclaimed loudly "My Mom made the best ribs tonight!" while the leader was reading John 3:16. Reportedly, this pretty much broke up the group and the 'serious' time. Bless his heart, he means well. Michael discreetly told him to go to the restroom and clean up his hands and arms, and Will responded loudly "Oh, don't worry Dad, I'm all clean now - I ate it all". I guess all of the perspiration didn't affect the flavor too much.

Boys will be Boys! It's a great feeling when people enjoy my cooking.

Squirrels & A Rental Car

It's time to pay ad valorem taxes on our van and truck (Yipee!). That means its emission testing time too. So last week I took my car to Jiffy Lube for it's annual check-up. The technician came into the waiting room and said, "Ms. Allen, there's something out here you need to see". That's never good coming from some one who's working on your car.

To everyone's amazement, there was a HUGE leaf nest under my hood. So huge, in fact, that it completely covered 1/2 of my engine! There were leaves, twigs, sticks, and everything an industrious little squirrel could find, all jammed in so tightly you couldn't stick a finger in there (If you were silly enough to want to do that!). Now I've seen plenty squirrel nests, right in my yard, in fact, but they've always been in TREES. What kind of squirrel builds an apartment complex under the hood of a car? A CRAZY one, I suppose. I guess all of the CRAZY squirrels have taken up residence in our yard.
All the technicians gathered around, gaping at my giant nest. "Wow, I've never seen anything like this before", and "Gee, does this car just sit for months or something?" were the comments from the peanut gallery. Finally, one of the guys got enough courage to poke at the heap with a stick and start to break it up. I think they were all a bit leary of what might come crawling out of there.

But, finally, with most of the debris gone, nothing crawled out. Seeming a bit more confident, the tech. started vacuuming up the remnants. Then he saw it - the wiring damage caused by these industrious little pests. The main wiring harness to my fuse box looked like an untamed mass of shredded wheat. It's amazing the car was still operable, and hadn't caught on fire.

This was a job for the pros. So my car went to Honda Carland today for repairs. I imagine it won't be cheap. But hey, it's been a great car and I don't have any car payments, so I'll just deal with it somehow. Enterprise brought me a Camry to drive until my van is repaired, so now its just a waiting game to see what the $$ damage is.

I'll be checking under my hood frequently from now on in case those little guys get any ideas about re-building thier masterpiece. Too bad I can't send the squirrels the bill.

ACCEPTANCE

I used to read "acceptance is the key to recovery", several times a week. That was a long time ago, and many demons ago. Of all the demons I've encountered, I never considered Pride to be a significant one, never really thought of myself as prideful, but could always so easily point it out in others. Isn't that the way it is with all of us?

Some things I have to learn over and over. I have resisted help available to me. I have not followed doctor's orders. Why? PRIDE. Pure and simple, that's it in a nutshell. What will people think of me? Will my children be embarrassed to be seen with me? How can I stand to see those 'looks' from people - you know the looks - surprise, shock, disgust, pity, judgement, fear, all those things you see in people's eyes when they look at you. When they see your illness and it's trappings. When they compare the 'old' me to the 'new' me in their minds. My PRIDE would not let me ACCEPT the help available to me because of these things - these FEARS, all of them in my own head. Did I actually think that by resisting help I could pass myself off as 'normal', 'healthy', 'the same old Jeannie?'. I guess somewhere, somehow my mind worked that way. I have been conducting an amazing act of self-deception.

I got over it this week. I started doing 2 things to take care of myself, and in the process gulped down a big, bitter dose of PRIDE.

First, I'm using my oxygen 24 x 7 now. The doctor prescribed it for night time use a couple of years ago, then increased it to 24 x 7 a few months ago. Now I know they don't prescribe the stuff unless you really NEED it, but feeling self-concious about going around in public with a canula and oxygen tank, I resisted using it except in the privacy of home. This week, I started taking it along everywhere I go. It makes a huge difference in how I feel and how much I can do in a day. No big surprise, right, since every cell of my body needs oxygen all the time and my lungs only produce about 50% of what my body needs. Every time I have a Pulmonary Function Test, the results keep getting worse. I NEED the oxygen, and now I'm ACCEPTING it. My body quietly thanks me every time I use it, as if to say "finally, you are taking care of me - what a relief!".

The second thing is riding the scooter in Wal-Mart. For the last 2 years, any trip to the grocery store or Wal-Mart has been very difficult for me. I don't even consider going to the mall. Michael does all of the grocery shopping for this reason. This week, Amanda needed to shop for a weekend retreat. I went with her and rode the scooter. I asked her if she was embarrassed and she said 'of course not!'. The amazing thing is this: I had the first 'fun' shopping outing with my daughter in 2 years! No kidding. Because of my PRIDE, we have missed out on 2 years of fun trips to Wal-Mart. What a waste! Shopping has been so painful and gets worse every month. The pain was so bad that I would either turn into the worlds biggest grouch and lash out at those around me (on a bad day), or just clam up and rush through and go straight to bed afterwards (on a good day). So now I can go to Wal-Mart with my family and ENJOY being with them again. Riding the scooter felt like being let out of prison, just cruising down the aisles, taking my time looking for things, not rushing, or looking for a place to sit, just enjoying the time with my daughter. And I didn't have to pop a couple of Vicoden before and after the trip.... Yeah!

Sometimes its good to get back to the basics. I'm going to be focusing on Acceptance for awhile.

I didn't die today

I've been swimming 3 times this week. It's pure torture. After I drag myself out of the pool and into the shower, I barely have the strength to dress. That's when I have my 'moment' in front of the mirror. I stare straight into it and say "I didn't die today!", then I leave the room and slam the door. That's my bit of defiance, my victory party for the day. I muster my remaining strength and take the elevator upstairs, check out, and lumber out to my car. I drop into the seat and turn on my oxygen and take a few deep puffs. I pop 2 Vicoden because the pain is unbelievable, and by the time I get home and lay down, they start to kick in. They never win, but they eventually take the edge off.

Our Y membership is paid up for the next 11 months. I'll be talking to that mirror a lot. Even if it's the only thing I do all day long, I'm going to get over there to have my 'victory moment' with that damn mirror. As long as I'm here to do it.

Not Quite

I spoke too soon.

Monday morning came and went as usual. Michael kissed me and left for work. Then around 8:30 I got a call from his office. He had arrived very ill and had been transported to North Fulton Hospital by ambulance. I went straight away to meet him there (remember the WAR ZONE ??). And so we spent the day in chaos with gurneys, tests, emisis basins, pain shots, iv's, tubes, ambulances, and the rest. Turns out he has STONES. Yes, thats right, not A STONE, but 3 STONES.

He has one STONE in particular that dislodged from his kidney and was painfully weaving it's way down towards his bladder and causing all kinds of havoc. After confirming this with a CT scan, the doctors started giving him lots of pain meds and nausea meds through an IV. Then they put him on NPO after midnight, thinking they might have to do a 'procedure' on Tuesday.

They were right. On Tuesday, Dr.Banks inserted a 'stint'. It's some contraption that extends from the kidney down to the bladder and acts sort of like a slide for the stone. The stone was pushed back up into the kidney by the procedure, but when it decides to start its way back down, the stint is supposed to aid it on its journey. But they also talked about using a laser and blasting the STONES up in the kidneys in a couple of weeks -after the infection clears.

Thats right, the infection. Seems once the doc got into the procedure he could see that an abcess or infection or some other God awful thing has developed in there. So Michael will have to go through a stiff round of antibiotics before any 'next' steps.
Oh yea, and the STONES - there are actually THREE of them. TWO in the kidney and one in the Gall Bladdder. The doctor said only one of them is acting up right now; the other two could act up in the future, or could just lie dormant forever, we just don't know.

Well, Michael is still at North Fulton, and the rest of us are at home. Just when we thought we had paid our ER dues for the month....... thats what I get for thinking.

We are all very grateful that even though Michael has suffered greatly these last 24 hours, he has a treatable condition and we know he'll be coming home safe and sound. And we are all so grateful for my parents who propped us up and kept us (me) going through another bump in the road. I love you mom and dad. And thank you too for the kind employees at DEC that got him to the hospital so swiftly and safely.

Monday in February

It's Monday February 6, 2006. I'm 43 years old, two children, 2nd marriage, disabled for 2 1/2 years, 130 pounds overweight, on oxygen and a zillion pills a day. What a picture of 'success' I am! And the weather stinks. Its bone chilling cold outside and my chest is complaining about it. Now on both sides. I'm determined not to take the mega Prednisone doses that the Dr. says I need to take to knock out the inflammation. When I was in the hospital last week, I saw this "urban rebounder" on tv. It looked like a fun way to maybe get some exercise and lose some weight. I'm convinced I would feel like a new person if I could just get my weight back down to normal. So I shopped around and found a good deal on it a hsn.com and ordered it. It came in today and Will went nuts over it. I've hardly been able to get him off of it all day! Which is no problem really, just that I didn't expect his enthusiasm over it. I'm starting tomorrow while everyone is away at school and work. I fear I'll only be able to handle a few minutes at a time to start out, but that's ok with me. Whatever it is is ok. I'll just start with what I can do and build from there. Won't that be a sight - me with my oxygen on jumping on my 'urban rebounder'?

We decided to make some decorating changes around the house. Will and I already picked out new paint and wallpaper border for his room, its a surf board theme, and Amanda agreed to put it up this Saturday night.

Will and Michael are to clear the area and drape the paint throws for her, then she's going to work after dinner. It's really a sweet thing for her to do for him. Then we're going to switch the dining room and living room. I've been disappointed with the size of the dining room ever since we did the remodel. I want a room large eoungh for an extra leaf, extra chairs, and plenty of room to gather around the table and entertain. So we're going to turn the small dining room into a small sitting area, and the living room into our dining room. If we really like the change, we're going to get an electrician to come move the chandilier to seal the deal. Otherwise there will be plenty of people bumping their heads in the sitting area!

Since it's alreay Tuesday I went ahead and signed up for the HGTV dream home. I've been signing up once a day since sometime early in January. You are allowed one entry per day through Feb 17. Hey, some one has to win!

Will has his Blue and Gold banquet Friday night and his crossover to Boy Scouts from Cub Scouts. This is a really big deal, so I'm going to do every thing possible to be there, camera in hand. I can't believe how fast he's growing up! He'll be in middle school next year!

I have tons of dr. appointments this week, on Wed. and Thursday. On Wed, I go to see Barbara, then for Remicade - pray no fever or illness between now and then!!! On Thursday, a CT scan, PFTs, then Dr. Butler, then Dr. Leeper. I'll probably be exhausted Thursday afternoon and crawl into bed when I get home. Mom is coming to drive me and help me out. Lili is picking Will up both days. I am so grateful for all of my loving family and friends.

Saturday Rollin' with the Punches

I can't say today was boring. That's a good thing. Many of my days stretch into hours of lonliness and boredom and I just get tired of being alone and sick. Today was different.


It's been foggy all day. Not cold, just foggy. It probably wouldn't have bothered me if I had stayed inside. But I didn't, and the dampness went straight to my bones and made me cranky and miserable. I had to apologize to my family for my cranky attitude, and even had to put back the steaks I'd planned to cook for dinner - I just couldn't pull it off. It feels like my bones, and especially my joints, are magnets for moisture, and the more moisture, the more pain. My chest got worse today; yesterday it felt almost all cleared up, but not today, it's back in full force. Oh well, at least I'm still only taking the 20 MG of Prednisone.


At least I slept INSIDE last night. Not so for Michael and Will. They were at a camporee and Michael said from about Midnight on, everything was wet. He sent Will straight to a hot bath when they got home this morning, we're trying to head off any ill effects!
Amanda had a meeting at the Y this morning. She is on the Teen Board of Directors. They are planning an inner city mission trip to Atlanta and a mission trip to Mexico next Summer. She was offered and INTERNSHIP for next year, should she decide to go to college locally. It's quite an honor, because they only offer 2 every year. Plus, she'll get paid! Yea! PLUS, they need some one to run lighting for the concerts, which is exactly what she loves doing. I'm so happy she is involved over there, it is such a healthy place.

Well, when she came home I took one look at her car and saw a rear tire was very low. The tread was nearly gone on both rear tires. I ASSUMED this was the 'problem'. So I followed her to the tire place and $270 later she drives out with Michelin's on both rear tires. But when we got home, she said the 'wierd' thing was still happening. Great, thats what I get for assuming. I took a quick ride with her and I would describe the behaviour of her 1993 Sable as a violent shudder randomly occuring anytime as you drive down the road. Not good. By this time, shops were closed, so we had to take it to a key drop at a repair shop on Main Street. I surely hope it'snot a transmission job, especially after putting the $270 in the tires, because the car probably isn't worth the cost of a transmission job. I guess we'll find out on Monday.

She is going to Gaitlinberg next weekend and needed some supplies from Wal-mart. Now honestly, can anyone really go for an entire Saturday without a trip to Wal-Mart? My legs felt like telephone poles; they just wouldn't move for me. So I gave her my credit card and I sat in the luncheonette while she shopped. Fortunately, I think she found everything she needs. No small feat for a teenage girl.

After all is said and done, I'm resorting to my pain pills,

my heating pad, and cuddling up with my tortie kitty on the bed.