Up, down, sad, scared, grateful, mad, depressed, resigned. Put ‘em in a blender and sip slowly to savor each emotion. That’s where I’m at these days.
I played my first of cancer card last week. I went to our tiny movie theater a bit early to sit and be calm before the hordes arrived. When I pulled in, the owner was outside and said, “Aren’t you early?” I told her, “Yes, but I wanted to be alone before my friends got here and barraged me with questions.” Then I blurted out, “I have eye cancer, who gets that?” She said, “You?” I laughed with her and she hugged me. Then she asked, “Where did they find it?”, to which I replied, “In my eye, I just told you”, and we laughed so hard we almost cried. She told me to go inside and she poured me a big glass of red wine.
That was exactly what I needed. A good laugh and wine. Then I watched Bombshell with the hordes and my friends and realized how much money I could have made in the past two years from all the harassment claims. Oh, well.
Life moves on. I have a plan and really good folks on my side. Cancer will be my bitch.
Thursday, February 6, 2020
Thursday, January 30, 2020
It’s all fun and games until someone pokes an eye out
Really? I have to do this again?
I’m doing this for me, not you, but you’re welcome to tag along. I have a Woe-is-Me caringbridge site, but that’s more or less for folks shocked and dismayed, who want to lurk and make nice comments. Frankly, I suspect they’ll stalk it and move on, grateful that it’s not them. I get it. It sucks and doesn’t fit in your routine.
I’m lucky, so very lucky, To have those those that rally and are close to my heart. This is for you, tag along.
I’m doing this for me, not you, but you’re welcome to tag along. I have a Woe-is-Me caringbridge site, but that’s more or less for folks shocked and dismayed, who want to lurk and make nice comments. Frankly, I suspect they’ll stalk it and move on, grateful that it’s not them. I get it. It sucks and doesn’t fit in your routine.
I’m lucky, so very lucky, To have those those that rally and are close to my heart. This is for you, tag along.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Avast Ye!
You can google pirate sayings. Go ahead, do it. Now you can add another language to your skill set.
Per usual, I have had a week from hell. Mind you, I knew the Prokera Eye Ring procedure on Monday would be "uncomfortable", which is medical speak for hurts like hell, but after I rubbed my eye in the middle of the night on Wednesday, it went to "holy fuck Jesus, pull the hot poker from my eye or pluck it now". An overdoes of ibuprofen didn't touch it, but thank God that Denny had his desperation stash of Vicodin. That saved me until I ran out, then off to Urgent Care where I said, "Take my eye from me. I have seen unspeakable acts." They gave me more drugs, which was a pretty good response. Two hours later, I had the hot poker ready to smite myself. The Mister drove me to the ER at 3 AM and they said, no way, no how, I'm not touching it, we'll call your ophthalmologist. Well hell, I would have done that, too, but knew he wouldn't answer.
We got home, I slept for about two hours and we drove to the doctor's office until it opened. He took the contact out, gave me numbing drops and said, "Looks like you scratched your cornea." He gave me drops to put in every half hour and I saw him again six hours later. I was wearing a patch (which I should've worn at night, duh) because the light hurts my eye. I saw him twice on Friday, once on Saturday and will see him again on Monday because I need to be able to fly to Hong Kong for our cool SE Asia vacation. I told him that a patch like a pirate would be okay for the cruise part, but he wasn't buying it. Did I mention I got a typhoid shot on Friday, too? Yeah, kinda like a mosquito bite at this point.
Per usual, I have had a week from hell. Mind you, I knew the Prokera Eye Ring procedure on Monday would be "uncomfortable", which is medical speak for hurts like hell, but after I rubbed my eye in the middle of the night on Wednesday, it went to "holy fuck Jesus, pull the hot poker from my eye or pluck it now". An overdoes of ibuprofen didn't touch it, but thank God that Denny had his desperation stash of Vicodin. That saved me until I ran out, then off to Urgent Care where I said, "Take my eye from me. I have seen unspeakable acts." They gave me more drugs, which was a pretty good response. Two hours later, I had the hot poker ready to smite myself. The Mister drove me to the ER at 3 AM and they said, no way, no how, I'm not touching it, we'll call your ophthalmologist. Well hell, I would have done that, too, but knew he wouldn't answer.
We got home, I slept for about two hours and we drove to the doctor's office until it opened. He took the contact out, gave me numbing drops and said, "Looks like you scratched your cornea." He gave me drops to put in every half hour and I saw him again six hours later. I was wearing a patch (which I should've worn at night, duh) because the light hurts my eye. I saw him twice on Friday, once on Saturday and will see him again on Monday because I need to be able to fly to Hong Kong for our cool SE Asia vacation. I told him that a patch like a pirate would be okay for the cruise part, but he wasn't buying it. Did I mention I got a typhoid shot on Friday, too? Yeah, kinda like a mosquito bite at this point.
I did have a fun exchange with my buddy that has arranged our upcoming adventure. She is used to my shenanigans, so she wasn't too surprised. I believe that it was an epic text exchange, but probably because I'm still on drugs.
You're welcome.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Ring Around the Rosey
All is well. I guzzled 4 liters of saline cocktail Thursday night and Friday morning. Fortunately, the Mister was not present for most of the desired results. It wasn't so bad, just annoying to have to keep going so often.
Upon arrival at Swedish, my nice nurse whisked me into a "private" room and covered me with warm blankets. I asked if I could choose my color for the pedicure, at least she laughed. I was not laughing when she couldn't find my vein, but one of her nicer associates stepped in and found one. I waited for some time, enough to overhear three people surrounding me describe their last meal, medications and reason for being naked in a flimsy gown. So much for HIPPA privacy.
I was wheeled into a truly private room for the procedure and told to lie on my side. Too late, I realized that I hadn't drawn a smiley face on my hiney, but the doctor didn't seemed to be easily amused, so I'll save that trick for a more appreciative audience. He asked how I felt and I replied, "Wide awake and ready for happy juice." I thought he was going to go for it before we'd even had dessert! The nurse reassured me and I watched her insert the sedative into my IV, thank God.
I woke up and the doctor came in with a diagnosis of hemorrhoids, oh joy. But the best part were the pictures! Just in time for my holiday cards; a perfect little wreath for friends and family!
Upon arrival at Swedish, my nice nurse whisked me into a "private" room and covered me with warm blankets. I asked if I could choose my color for the pedicure, at least she laughed. I was not laughing when she couldn't find my vein, but one of her nicer associates stepped in and found one. I waited for some time, enough to overhear three people surrounding me describe their last meal, medications and reason for being naked in a flimsy gown. So much for HIPPA privacy.
I was wheeled into a truly private room for the procedure and told to lie on my side. Too late, I realized that I hadn't drawn a smiley face on my hiney, but the doctor didn't seemed to be easily amused, so I'll save that trick for a more appreciative audience. He asked how I felt and I replied, "Wide awake and ready for happy juice." I thought he was going to go for it before we'd even had dessert! The nurse reassured me and I watched her insert the sedative into my IV, thank God.
I woke up and the doctor came in with a diagnosis of hemorrhoids, oh joy. But the best part were the pictures! Just in time for my holiday cards; a perfect little wreath for friends and family!
Monday, November 14, 2016
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
The Maine Idea
So of course, people want to know if we'll get another dog. WE WILL NOT BE GETTING A PUPPY. Let's be clear on that. I would love to get an Irish Wolfhound, but they don't live long enough. I would also like to rescue a senior dog or two, just to complement the average household age. But I'd really like to get a Maine Coon kitty. I've met a few and have always been impressed by their size and personality. More dog like and quite friendly.
The official description is as follows:
"The Maine Coon is one of the largest domesticated breeds of cat. It has a distinctive physical appearance and valuable hunting skills." I'm thinking the Mister can train it to go hunting with him in the field. You know, retrieve birds and claw fish. They could bond and I'd be happy because yet another animal had a productive job and could earn their keep.
So I'm going to a cat show where I'm pretty sure women in suits and sensible shoes won't be running with these magnificent creatures all happy and frisky. Nope. They mean business and need to conserve energy for the hunt.
I shall show you my hunting skills, peon.
The official description is as follows:
"The Maine Coon is one of the largest domesticated breeds of cat. It has a distinctive physical appearance and valuable hunting skills." I'm thinking the Mister can train it to go hunting with him in the field. You know, retrieve birds and claw fish. They could bond and I'd be happy because yet another animal had a productive job and could earn their keep.
So I'm going to a cat show where I'm pretty sure women in suits and sensible shoes won't be running with these magnificent creatures all happy and frisky. Nope. They mean business and need to conserve energy for the hunt.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Bye Woo
Why do we have pets? I suppose the same reason we have children. No, not because we got drunk and had sex. Having a pet is a conscious decision to take on the absolute dependence of a being for that being's entire life. That's huge. They have no choice, no voice, just complete trust that you'll do the right thing.
So we did the right thing by DogGus and now we miss him terribly. I can sleep in a normal position. I don't wake up to a cold nose or a huge paw slapping the bed. I don't have to stand in the cold and rain waiting for a dog to pee or poop and then wipe his paws. I don't have to hunt for massive turds. I don't have to pick up the lone tissue off the floor when he is mad.
I sure wish I still could. RIP, Hirsch's Believe You Me, aka Gus. 11/3/2005-10/18/2016
So we did the right thing by DogGus and now we miss him terribly. I can sleep in a normal position. I don't wake up to a cold nose or a huge paw slapping the bed. I don't have to stand in the cold and rain waiting for a dog to pee or poop and then wipe his paws. I don't have to hunt for massive turds. I don't have to pick up the lone tissue off the floor when he is mad.
I sure wish I still could. RIP, Hirsch's Believe You Me, aka Gus. 11/3/2005-10/18/2016
Monday, October 17, 2016
Slap That Pig
It has been a very stressful day with DogGus staying overnight at the Vet. He needs intravenous antibiotics. He was so sad when he saw me leaving, even though there were two kitties wandering around him while laying on the bed they provided. I know he needs to be there, I just hate thinking of how upset he must be. With that said, the Mister did not fail in his subtle amusing ways to cheer. He's pretty funny as a normal guy; give him drugs and he is all out.
When Stu da 'Phew was little, he would say funny things, which I wrote down (and consequently blogged, to his delight). I wrote down today's Misterisms:
He was looking at Facebook and started cussing. I asked what was wrong and he asked, "Do they make you buy emojis?" I shared a picture of a baby pig playing with a pit bull and he muttered, "Somebody needs to slap that baby pig".
I've been attempting to make him drink more water by mixing selzer with juice. We were on the way to Urgent Care today when he said, "We need to save the fizz." I said, "What are you talking about?" He replied, "I worry about the half can of selzer." Wow.
Also, on the way, he told me that he was able to shower, but the body soap was really slimy feeling. I asked him what he used and he told me the name of his body lotion. I said the lotion wasn't made to be used as soap. He was very insistent that there were lotion soaps. I told him I know, he has some in the shower and I will get you some more. He turned to me and asked, "Is it that Oy Vey stuff?"
I believe he meant Oil of Olay.
When Stu da 'Phew was little, he would say funny things, which I wrote down (and consequently blogged, to his delight). I wrote down today's Misterisms:
He was looking at Facebook and started cussing. I asked what was wrong and he asked, "Do they make you buy emojis?" I shared a picture of a baby pig playing with a pit bull and he muttered, "Somebody needs to slap that baby pig".
I've been attempting to make him drink more water by mixing selzer with juice. We were on the way to Urgent Care today when he said, "We need to save the fizz." I said, "What are you talking about?" He replied, "I worry about the half can of selzer." Wow.
Also, on the way, he told me that he was able to shower, but the body soap was really slimy feeling. I asked him what he used and he told me the name of his body lotion. I said the lotion wasn't made to be used as soap. He was very insistent that there were lotion soaps. I told him I know, he has some in the shower and I will get you some more. He turned to me and asked, "Is it that Oy Vey stuff?"
I believe he meant Oil of Olay.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
He Pooped!
The marvels of modern medicine do not come without price. Man and dog are suffering from irregularity. Mister can deal with it. DogGus cannot.
I stopped the Gabapentin last night with the hopes of his gaining coordination. Just as the windstorm of the century started up, he lifted his head and started howling. Then, he got up and came into the family room to lie down. That was the most movement on his own since Wednesday.
Because I had to monitor the Mister's Vicodin last night, lest he overdose because he lost track of the number and time, I was up most of the night. Changing out ice packs, getting water and petting DogGus. I wrangled DogGus out the door at 2 AM when he became agitated and Mister asked where we were going. I told him Dog needs to poop, just sit there. So I'm supporting this big assed dog to the pavement and its pouring rain and super windy. I have my shorty pajamas and raincoat on and am saying, "Good boy, go poopies, c'mon, good boy" and supporting his butt at the same time. Finally, just as he goes, all the outside lights come on and the Mister is standing outside in his panties. The barn lights are on, too, and Tori comes screaming to the fence to let me know she's starving, damnit, it's 2 AM, after all. DogGus decides to lay down and I'm yelling at Mister to go back in the house. He wants to know what I'm doing, so I scream, "He pooped!" The Mister visibly brightens and yells, "He pooped! That's good, right?! He pooped!" I so hope the noise of the storm muffled him. The whole yard was as bright as day. I gave the barn residents a snack to quiet them.
DogGus is perkier today, but still not able to stand up. He's back to the vet tomorrow to see if different meds are required or if he's just too weak from pneumonia. Oy vey.
I stopped the Gabapentin last night with the hopes of his gaining coordination. Just as the windstorm of the century started up, he lifted his head and started howling. Then, he got up and came into the family room to lie down. That was the most movement on his own since Wednesday.
Because I had to monitor the Mister's Vicodin last night, lest he overdose because he lost track of the number and time, I was up most of the night. Changing out ice packs, getting water and petting DogGus. I wrangled DogGus out the door at 2 AM when he became agitated and Mister asked where we were going. I told him Dog needs to poop, just sit there. So I'm supporting this big assed dog to the pavement and its pouring rain and super windy. I have my shorty pajamas and raincoat on and am saying, "Good boy, go poopies, c'mon, good boy" and supporting his butt at the same time. Finally, just as he goes, all the outside lights come on and the Mister is standing outside in his panties. The barn lights are on, too, and Tori comes screaming to the fence to let me know she's starving, damnit, it's 2 AM, after all. DogGus decides to lay down and I'm yelling at Mister to go back in the house. He wants to know what I'm doing, so I scream, "He pooped!" The Mister visibly brightens and yells, "He pooped! That's good, right?! He pooped!" I so hope the noise of the storm muffled him. The whole yard was as bright as day. I gave the barn residents a snack to quiet them.
DogGus is perkier today, but still not able to stand up. He's back to the vet tomorrow to see if different meds are required or if he's just too weak from pneumonia. Oy vey.
Saturday, October 15, 2016
The Time Has Come
Yes, it is time. Why now? Well, why indeed. Probably because the coloring books are not working as a new hobby; I keep losing my 50 cent pencil sharpener and then I can't color with my favorite colors and then waaaahhh...
Also, it is a good time to complain. DogGus is old and has pneumonia. Antibiotics are helping that, but he also has arthritis and the Gabapentin is causing loss of coordination and extreme drowsiness. He is supposed to get up and move to expand his lungs, so that's not happening. A few times a day, I put a bunched towel around his hips and lift his big ass up to move or go outside to pee and hopefully poop. He usually can eliminate, but then lays down on the wet ground. I would make the Mister do it, but of course, he's old and injured and in the way, too.
He has been so gung ho in Mazama with farm chores and splitting wood and killing bees that he has torn his bicep. He drove back with the horses and had pain that night, not sleeping. Yesterday, the went to his primary doctor who prescribed Vicodin, but that didn't touch it. No sleep last night, even with the pot I gave him. He went to urgent care and received more drugs. He drove himself and when he got back, it was obvious that the drugs had kicked in. He told me that he could put a "moist compost" on his arm. He knows I hate the word, "moist", so he kept saying it. I said that all I had was warm horse poop, but that was close to compost, so it would have to do. It was lost on him, so I decided to turn to my faithful blog audience for meager appreciation.
The third fun event is the STORM OF THE CENTURY. Oh, the terror, oh, the humanity that will suffer. At least it is a diversion from Chump. I do appreciate the Mister and his Captain Safety ways now. We have full gas tanks, an automatic generator, food and water for three months and now, loads of pain pills. I guess life doesn't suck too much when you have an abundance of essential stuff.
When the power goes out, we shall be comfy warm, with lights and books and be able to watch our collection of DVDs. The best, shining, brightest news of all is that I found, "The Essential Duck Calling Guide", which we can now practice together as the winds howl and buffet our safe space.
Welcome back, y'all.
Also, it is a good time to complain. DogGus is old and has pneumonia. Antibiotics are helping that, but he also has arthritis and the Gabapentin is causing loss of coordination and extreme drowsiness. He is supposed to get up and move to expand his lungs, so that's not happening. A few times a day, I put a bunched towel around his hips and lift his big ass up to move or go outside to pee and hopefully poop. He usually can eliminate, but then lays down on the wet ground. I would make the Mister do it, but of course, he's old and injured and in the way, too.
He has been so gung ho in Mazama with farm chores and splitting wood and killing bees that he has torn his bicep. He drove back with the horses and had pain that night, not sleeping. Yesterday, the went to his primary doctor who prescribed Vicodin, but that didn't touch it. No sleep last night, even with the pot I gave him. He went to urgent care and received more drugs. He drove himself and when he got back, it was obvious that the drugs had kicked in. He told me that he could put a "moist compost" on his arm. He knows I hate the word, "moist", so he kept saying it. I said that all I had was warm horse poop, but that was close to compost, so it would have to do. It was lost on him, so I decided to turn to my faithful blog audience for meager appreciation.
The third fun event is the STORM OF THE CENTURY. Oh, the terror, oh, the humanity that will suffer. At least it is a diversion from Chump. I do appreciate the Mister and his Captain Safety ways now. We have full gas tanks, an automatic generator, food and water for three months and now, loads of pain pills. I guess life doesn't suck too much when you have an abundance of essential stuff.
When the power goes out, we shall be comfy warm, with lights and books and be able to watch our collection of DVDs. The best, shining, brightest news of all is that I found, "The Essential Duck Calling Guide", which we can now practice together as the winds howl and buffet our safe space.
Welcome back, y'all.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Yo, A Little Privacy Here?
This was a rather clever email exchange with a friend from New York. She had been interviewed on the news regarding the NY Marathon and gave a fake name of Kirby Smith last week.
Pretty much sums up my life, lately.
Pretty much sums up my life, lately.
From: Heidi Weston
Personally, I get hung up on Void. Must be the "oi" sound, oy vey. The Mister actually recommended Poise thongs to aid in the prevention of VPL just last night. Great minds think alike.
I will tell her and she will be sure to say, "Thank you and greetings as well", because she is polite like that. Yes, she is in a good spot and I am bringing the wee bison beast down for a visit with his buddy the Mastiff, Harrison. It shall be his last official visit this year, 'cuz Homey aint down for cleaning mud and shit (literally) from those ever so darling hooves. From: SAS | |
Nobody's ready for sensible, I'm with your mom. And, I think Poise cause less of a VPL, right? I just like saying the word "poise" ... it sounds funny. Poise Poise Poise, great now I can't stop. Is your mom still in that place she likes? I can't remember if she's moved recently. Give her a "hey" for me even though she doesn't know who I am :)
I'll keep you posted on the move west. Or Donner Party Redux.
xo
From: Heidi Weston
Oh, dear. Not that I love being Public or Pubic, but that is just too much info for random fans. Phew, Safety SAS rides again. Many thanks.
Yes, we are enjoying all Fall things, including power outages and wee hoofprints in mud. The Mister is returning from is annual Murder of Flying Objects, so we shall have provisions in the freezer.
I am escorting my failing Mom out and about. She now has Stage III Parkinsons' and we have moved to a walker. I took her to find shoes yesterday and I told her that heels were now out of her network. She turned to me and said, "But I'm not ready for sensible!" Poor Oma. On the bright side, may I recommend the Poise pads for minor incontinence? We find them better than the pull up Depends, which tend to irritate the skin, now that the color choice of peach has been offered. You're most welcome.
So glad to hear you shall be more near than far. Would so like to see the bright shiny face of Kirby, aka Sasquatch, in the 'hood.
xxxoooo,
Ho
Date: Wed, 6 Nov 2013 09:55:46 -0800
From: sas
Subject: Facebook Privacy, yo!
To: weston_heidi
HO!Hope this finds you and the mister happy and well and enjoying the loveliness that is Autumn. I'm on the final day of a 3-day Juice Cleanse so am enjoying the loveliness of running to pee every hour, yea.Hey, check your Facebook settings -- looks like yours may be set to "Public" which means the entire universe, including Uranus, can see your posts. Not sure if this is what you had intended but thought I'd bring it to your attention because I'm here to help.I'm probably moving back to California next year so we'll at least be in the same time zone, yea!xoxoxo
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Discoveries
The Colonel pointed out a feature on our cars that I guess I kinda knew about but didn't see the benefit. Push the "ear" button on the steering wheel and the voice asks for your command.
He showed me how he commanded to turn on the radio and turn up the volume. In the middle of one of the commands, I yelled, "Shut the f@#k up!" She then said, "Shopping malls listed". That shut ME up.
The Colonel said, "Blow job". Very funny. She said, "That request does not appear on the map." Well duh, I could have told you that. After all, only a man makes up a legend which describes an inch as a mile.
He showed me how he commanded to turn on the radio and turn up the volume. In the middle of one of the commands, I yelled, "Shut the f@#k up!" She then said, "Shopping malls listed". That shut ME up.
The Colonel said, "Blow job". Very funny. She said, "That request does not appear on the map." Well duh, I could have told you that. After all, only a man makes up a legend which describes an inch as a mile.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Choosing a Life
I would like to read a book about a mid-thirties womans' life that involves living with her parents and barely working, much less living a life. I have a friend who has a niece living this story.
Not naming names, but said niece, we shall call Pam, does indeed live with her stay at home mom and dad. Only child, sheltered and somewhat enabled by mom with real and imagined medical issues. Pam joins an online Bible study group and finds "Hans" from Germany. They correspond, he is a divorced guy with a couple of kids. After a few months, he flies over to the small town to meet Pam and family.
Three weeks later, they marry and she moves to Germany to start a new life. Her first boyfriend, her first plane ride, her first time living outside her parents' home. WTF? Does that take guts or what? Got to give her credit for better late than never trying to live a life. Can't wait to see what happens. It's very fascinating to me.
This is my latest and greatest pondering in between taking my Mom to numerous blood tests and doctor visits due to her ongoing depression. Not sure if it's Parkinson's related or post-fall guilt PTSD variety. Her glucose levels are very high, so that means another round of visits to her primary, shrink and counselor. She'll be missing our family reunion next weekend which is too bad, but she isn't in any shape to take care of herself.
Trusty and I have been enjoying our summer work tremendously. He is so good with the kids at Camp Korey and the elderly folks at assisted living. I was a bit concerned when one woman in Memory Care started screeching, "Oh, you're so sweet, so cute!!" and flapping her arms about, but he just took it in stride. He is quite tolerant of all his fans, as am I. My latest icebreaker is to ask why he can't talk to us? The answer is, of course, that he is a little hoarse.
That is my report.
Not naming names, but said niece, we shall call Pam, does indeed live with her stay at home mom and dad. Only child, sheltered and somewhat enabled by mom with real and imagined medical issues. Pam joins an online Bible study group and finds "Hans" from Germany. They correspond, he is a divorced guy with a couple of kids. After a few months, he flies over to the small town to meet Pam and family.
Three weeks later, they marry and she moves to Germany to start a new life. Her first boyfriend, her first plane ride, her first time living outside her parents' home. WTF? Does that take guts or what? Got to give her credit for better late than never trying to live a life. Can't wait to see what happens. It's very fascinating to me.
This is my latest and greatest pondering in between taking my Mom to numerous blood tests and doctor visits due to her ongoing depression. Not sure if it's Parkinson's related or post-fall guilt PTSD variety. Her glucose levels are very high, so that means another round of visits to her primary, shrink and counselor. She'll be missing our family reunion next weekend which is too bad, but she isn't in any shape to take care of herself.
Trusty and I have been enjoying our summer work tremendously. He is so good with the kids at Camp Korey and the elderly folks at assisted living. I was a bit concerned when one woman in Memory Care started screeching, "Oh, you're so sweet, so cute!!" and flapping her arms about, but he just took it in stride. He is quite tolerant of all his fans, as am I. My latest icebreaker is to ask why he can't talk to us? The answer is, of course, that he is a little hoarse.
That is my report.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Well, Lookee Here
Yes, it has been a very long time. I have received many comments (okay, two) about me not updating this pitiful way of communicating to basically a couple of stalkers, but okay, I really don't want to disappoint ALL those fans.
Been busy, okay? Like hanging in real life with real people doing real stuff. Short summary in list form:
1. Stopped taking woo-woo drugs for my face except for an Ibuprofen Plus pill called Meloxicam with has helped with my hip pain from golfing, not so much the face pain, but at least I'm awake enough to actually golf. It especially hurts when the weather changes, so I guess it's one more step toward becoming older than duct tape.
2. Went to Italy for three weeks with a great bunch of people and had a truly amazing time. It was one of the best trips because we stayed in a tiny village and met locals and walked all over the place. I lost weight while stuffing my face and drinking copiously! I'm trying to maintain this habit and so far staying steady because:
3. The Colonel and I have a new workout Nazi named Dave. He almost killed us the first couple of sessions, but we are paying him to rough us up. I've not sweated this much since my honeymoon (you are welcome for the visual).
4. Trusty and I have revamped our therapy work at Assisted Living and Camp Korey. We had a scary moment with a severely autistic girl who had two handlers last year. I should have anticipated trouble when she showed up with three people this time. She was quite taken with my beast and showed her wonderful affection by pulling his tail, grabbing his legs and leaping on him (all 100 lb+). I was somewhat sorry to have to tackle her to get her off, but nobody else did and after all, I tackled my brother's pit bull when he was attacking, and I figured her jaws were smaller. He remained calm and continued eating grass, trooper that he is.
5. We have lived through a house residing, complete with free electrical problems consisting of intermittent washing machine episodes, freezing showers, non working hot tub and my favorite for the past two weeks, Internet failure. All this as a package deal! Fortunately, Mr. McGiver has restored us to almost new. Now we have house painters providing exciting barking opportunities for DogGus Dorkus.
6. Speaking of DogGus Dorkus, he is also now AllerGus Maximus Biteus. According to the stupidly expensive dermatologist, he has should be responding to shots, diet and wishful thinking by now. Nope. He has chewed himself raw, except when we go to Mazama. There, he is fine, except for the cheat grass that seems attracted to his feet every year. We are truly at our wits' end. I have been giving him Benadryl, Cortisone, Prednisone, weekly allergy shots, twice weekly baths, silver topical spray and old, deaf cats. Okay, no cats, just checking to see if you're paying attention.
So there you go. Are you happy now? Did I leave anything out? If so, I shall try to make up something and post it, because, I am, your ever popular blogger.
Been busy, okay? Like hanging in real life with real people doing real stuff. Short summary in list form:
1. Stopped taking woo-woo drugs for my face except for an Ibuprofen Plus pill called Meloxicam with has helped with my hip pain from golfing, not so much the face pain, but at least I'm awake enough to actually golf. It especially hurts when the weather changes, so I guess it's one more step toward becoming older than duct tape.
2. Went to Italy for three weeks with a great bunch of people and had a truly amazing time. It was one of the best trips because we stayed in a tiny village and met locals and walked all over the place. I lost weight while stuffing my face and drinking copiously! I'm trying to maintain this habit and so far staying steady because:
3. The Colonel and I have a new workout Nazi named Dave. He almost killed us the first couple of sessions, but we are paying him to rough us up. I've not sweated this much since my honeymoon (you are welcome for the visual).
4. Trusty and I have revamped our therapy work at Assisted Living and Camp Korey. We had a scary moment with a severely autistic girl who had two handlers last year. I should have anticipated trouble when she showed up with three people this time. She was quite taken with my beast and showed her wonderful affection by pulling his tail, grabbing his legs and leaping on him (all 100 lb+). I was somewhat sorry to have to tackle her to get her off, but nobody else did and after all, I tackled my brother's pit bull when he was attacking, and I figured her jaws were smaller. He remained calm and continued eating grass, trooper that he is.
5. We have lived through a house residing, complete with free electrical problems consisting of intermittent washing machine episodes, freezing showers, non working hot tub and my favorite for the past two weeks, Internet failure. All this as a package deal! Fortunately, Mr. McGiver has restored us to almost new. Now we have house painters providing exciting barking opportunities for DogGus Dorkus.
6. Speaking of DogGus Dorkus, he is also now AllerGus Maximus Biteus. According to the stupidly expensive dermatologist, he has should be responding to shots, diet and wishful thinking by now. Nope. He has chewed himself raw, except when we go to Mazama. There, he is fine, except for the cheat grass that seems attracted to his feet every year. We are truly at our wits' end. I have been giving him Benadryl, Cortisone, Prednisone, weekly allergy shots, twice weekly baths, silver topical spray and old, deaf cats. Okay, no cats, just checking to see if you're paying attention.
So there you go. Are you happy now? Did I leave anything out? If so, I shall try to make up something and post it, because, I am, your ever popular blogger.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Old and In the Way
Dear Heidi,
It was a pleasure to see you in the office. Your FSH shows that you are in menopause. Please let me know if you are symptoms resolved with the estrogen. I look forward to seeing you at your next scheduled appointment. Dr G
And there it is. I am officially old. I expect much sagging, drooping and memory loss by next week at the latest. I just started wearing reading glasses last month, too.
FYI, I didn't celebrate the 2 year anniversary of my kick on Monday mostly because there wasn't much to celebrate. Still on drugs, trying to wean off of Lyrica and Trileptal; it's not easy, even though they are not narcotics. Dr. G tried to convince me that the night sweats were due to these drugs and now we what the real culprit is. I feel much better on fewer drugs, no naps and lots more energy. I hope this low dose estrogen will keep the flashing at bay and maybe my boobs off the floor.
It was a pleasure to see you in the office. Your FSH shows that you are in menopause. Please let me know if you are symptoms resolved with the estrogen. I look forward to seeing you at your next scheduled appointment. Dr G
And there it is. I am officially old. I expect much sagging, drooping and memory loss by next week at the latest. I just started wearing reading glasses last month, too.
FYI, I didn't celebrate the 2 year anniversary of my kick on Monday mostly because there wasn't much to celebrate. Still on drugs, trying to wean off of Lyrica and Trileptal; it's not easy, even though they are not narcotics. Dr. G tried to convince me that the night sweats were due to these drugs and now we what the real culprit is. I feel much better on fewer drugs, no naps and lots more energy. I hope this low dose estrogen will keep the flashing at bay and maybe my boobs off the floor.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Goldy and Bright
20th anniversary and romantic and such when the piano player at Canlis plays..."The Girl From Ipanema".
The Mister turns to me and says, "This is that song....you know......"Girlfriend, You Pee On Me..."
Oh, my. Really..I thought his saying that his friend's wife was unattractive was the highlight of his Tourettes'.
It is truly the hour of the golden shower today..
The Mister turns to me and says, "This is that song....you know......"Girlfriend, You Pee On Me..."
Oh, my. Really..I thought his saying that his friend's wife was unattractive was the highlight of his Tourettes'.
It is truly the hour of the golden shower today..
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Say What?
I thought I knew everything about the man I married twenty years ago. Granted, it was a shock when I learned he liked Spam, but I learned to live with it.
Last week, I learned something so odd and strange that it will shock you. Be prepared, dear reader, be prepared.
The Colonel told me that years ago, while he was enrolled in the MBA program at the UW, he started hanging out with a fellow student and would occasionally socialize as couples. (This was BH, of course). He said that one day, over beers at the local bar, there was a lull in the conversation. The Colonel casually said to this man, "You know, your wife isn't very attractive."
What? You said what? And he claims it wasn't even true. Do you think it was some random Tourette's syndrome? What would possess someone to say this? Evidently, the man was gracious enough to say, "Well, yours isn't either", instead of punching him in the head.
I believe his filter is more securely fastened now.
Last week, I learned something so odd and strange that it will shock you. Be prepared, dear reader, be prepared.
The Colonel told me that years ago, while he was enrolled in the MBA program at the UW, he started hanging out with a fellow student and would occasionally socialize as couples. (This was BH, of course). He said that one day, over beers at the local bar, there was a lull in the conversation. The Colonel casually said to this man, "You know, your wife isn't very attractive."
What? You said what? And he claims it wasn't even true. Do you think it was some random Tourette's syndrome? What would possess someone to say this? Evidently, the man was gracious enough to say, "Well, yours isn't either", instead of punching him in the head.
I believe his filter is more securely fastened now.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Picking Lint
Mom called today. "This is your Mom." Always. Like how many elderly German women call me? Okay, maybe two of my Mom's friends, but I know their voices equally well. "What are you doing?" she asks. "Contemplating my navel," I say. She laughs and I say, "No, really, I was just getting into the shower when I thought about my belly button and what could possibly be in it." She said, "There is nothing in your belly button." "Oh, ho! You may think that, but have you ever looked? It's really nasty, you should take a Q-tip to it." "I wash my stomach in the shower," says she. "Yeah, so do I, but all that soap doesn't rinse out sometimes," I told her.
I got to thinking about certain bathing rituals that I know about. A friend of mine has never washed his feet. True story, but his feet look great. How can that be? Another friend of mine uses a new towel every single day. Not in my house she doesn't, but isn't that strange? I couldn't do that much laundry and I really like doing laundry. The Mister calls it my favorite hobby. My Mom never uses soap on her face, just washes with a washcloth. She has beautiful skin. It's not right.
Well, that was exciting. It was wonderfully warm today and a new friend came by to see the beasty boys. We brushed them until it looked like we blew up several rabbits and took Trusty out in the cart. Lucky tagged along; no choice, as he was tied to the cart. It was really fun and I learned ton about harnessing and driving. I'm really looking forward to more rides with her, especially when we pick up Lucky's cart from the ranch.
No news on my winning the Peep contest. I don't know if they'll publish the picture in this Sunday's paper, but I know it was one of the best. Now....what to do with all the Western Peeps? They're on my shelf in all their sugary glory, slowly turning hard.
I shall occasionally inspect them for bugs and see what happens.
I got to thinking about certain bathing rituals that I know about. A friend of mine has never washed his feet. True story, but his feet look great. How can that be? Another friend of mine uses a new towel every single day. Not in my house she doesn't, but isn't that strange? I couldn't do that much laundry and I really like doing laundry. The Mister calls it my favorite hobby. My Mom never uses soap on her face, just washes with a washcloth. She has beautiful skin. It's not right.
Well, that was exciting. It was wonderfully warm today and a new friend came by to see the beasty boys. We brushed them until it looked like we blew up several rabbits and took Trusty out in the cart. Lucky tagged along; no choice, as he was tied to the cart. It was really fun and I learned ton about harnessing and driving. I'm really looking forward to more rides with her, especially when we pick up Lucky's cart from the ranch.
No news on my winning the Peep contest. I don't know if they'll publish the picture in this Sunday's paper, but I know it was one of the best. Now....what to do with all the Western Peeps? They're on my shelf in all their sugary glory, slowly turning hard.
I shall occasionally inspect them for bugs and see what happens.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
In Which the Neighbor Proposes Murder
It was such a nice day on Monday that I decided to take advantage and do outdoorsy things that need attention (besides scoop poop, which is basically, same shit, different day).
The lucky dwarf spotted bison were attached to the alley fence to grazed peacefully and get a good brushing, DogGus happily snarled at all who passed and I got to work on the neighbors' blackberries. I love blackberries, yes, I do, but not the big scratches they leave on the truck's paint when I drive by. Also, there were some big scotch-broomy looking things that were out of control. I know they'll grow back, but at least for now the paint is safe.
So on with the gloves, safety glasses (I am Captain Safety, of course, which is the whole reason this blog was created. I digress.) and out come the lopping shears. I attacked the immediate neighbors patch of vines and the scotch-broomy thing. I start to go down the alley to the next backyard overgrowth when I see Herman the German outside (I think he is actually Dutch, but that doesn't rhyme). He is a neighbor that is kitty corner to our yard along the alley. He also has the infamous Cranky Franky that will just as soon bite you as look at you.
Great aside story about Herman; my friend and I were riding in the big arena one day and Herman trotted in on Franky doing his fancy dressage moves, which were actually very impressive. I hear a shout, just in time to see Herman on bucking Franky and up and over onto the sand he flies. Herman doesn't wear a helmet and evidently never will, so it was scary. I got Bombay over to block the arena entrance so the Crank wouldn't run out and Herman sheepishly got to his feet while Franky was trying to bite my friend and her horse. Since then, Herman made fun of our fancy helmets and has now taken to calling my little beasts, my "fashion accessories". Some may be insulted, but I think he is weird and he's trying to be funny (and is embarrassed at being seen bucked off). After all, he is in his 70's and rides like a madman, so you gotta respect that.
So I wave hello to Herman and he saunters over to say, "I see you are murdering the blackberries." "Yup, they scratch the paint on my truck," I reply. "You know, those blackberries have a mother and a father and haven't done anything wrong." I had never thought of that. I asked him if he liked blackberries. "Oh, yes, they are so good, I pick them every summer." I asked, "So, you like eating babies?" He stared at me and said, "My wife says I over think these things." I told him perhaps he does.
He still has a cool accent.
The lucky dwarf spotted bison were attached to the alley fence to grazed peacefully and get a good brushing, DogGus happily snarled at all who passed and I got to work on the neighbors' blackberries. I love blackberries, yes, I do, but not the big scratches they leave on the truck's paint when I drive by. Also, there were some big scotch-broomy looking things that were out of control. I know they'll grow back, but at least for now the paint is safe.
So on with the gloves, safety glasses (I am Captain Safety, of course, which is the whole reason this blog was created. I digress.) and out come the lopping shears. I attacked the immediate neighbors patch of vines and the scotch-broomy thing. I start to go down the alley to the next backyard overgrowth when I see Herman the German outside (I think he is actually Dutch, but that doesn't rhyme). He is a neighbor that is kitty corner to our yard along the alley. He also has the infamous Cranky Franky that will just as soon bite you as look at you.
Great aside story about Herman; my friend and I were riding in the big arena one day and Herman trotted in on Franky doing his fancy dressage moves, which were actually very impressive. I hear a shout, just in time to see Herman on bucking Franky and up and over onto the sand he flies. Herman doesn't wear a helmet and evidently never will, so it was scary. I got Bombay over to block the arena entrance so the Crank wouldn't run out and Herman sheepishly got to his feet while Franky was trying to bite my friend and her horse. Since then, Herman made fun of our fancy helmets and has now taken to calling my little beasts, my "fashion accessories". Some may be insulted, but I think he is weird and he's trying to be funny (and is embarrassed at being seen bucked off). After all, he is in his 70's and rides like a madman, so you gotta respect that.
So I wave hello to Herman and he saunters over to say, "I see you are murdering the blackberries." "Yup, they scratch the paint on my truck," I reply. "You know, those blackberries have a mother and a father and haven't done anything wrong." I had never thought of that. I asked him if he liked blackberries. "Oh, yes, they are so good, I pick them every summer." I asked, "So, you like eating babies?" He stared at me and said, "My wife says I over think these things." I told him perhaps he does.
He still has a cool accent.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
And You Are Rewarded, My Fine Peeps
But still, it's pretty cool......The PeepBR.
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