The Funeral (That Didn't Happen)

Well, this was certainly not the blog I thought I'd write.

As many of you know, our cat, Frost, became very sick a few weeks ago. This is Husband's cat, the one who worships the ground Husband walks on. Frost is a twelve year old, white American short hair who has been fat, fat, fat. He should weigh around eleven pounds and had got up to at least seventeen pounds. Which is bad. 
But now, turns out, it was good.

When Husband took Frost to the vet about five weeks ago, he had lost two pounds. Husband failed to mention this at the time, or I would have had alarm bells going off in my  head.

Husband had purchased some different flavored cat food because Frost has to have special kinds due to urinary tract issues. He loved it. For the first several days, he was eating that stuff up.
Then I noticed a lot of it was still in his bowl. He continued "stealing" the regular cat food if he got a chance, and licked the wet food can I let him have, so I just figured he didn't like it as much as he thought.

There was a little bit of the old left, so I filled his bowl with that. And that amount didn't seem to go down much either. (Eli "helps" eat it.)

I also noticed he was throwing up more than a cat usually does. So, I had Daughter weigh him. He'd lost two more pounds. 

I told Husband he had to take him to the vet when Frost refused to eat any wet food or Purina forbidden Cat Chow.

Of course, Frost being the Tasmanian devil he is, would not let the vet near him. She called me and wanted to try an antibiotic shot first to see if it would clear up a possible U.T.I. but if he wasn't better by Monday to bring him back and they would sedate him so they could examine him and draw blood.

By Monday, he was worse. 

The vet sedated him, started IV fluids and antibiotics. The blood and urine samples showed jaundice. After an x-ray to rule out a mass, it was determined something very serious was going on with his pancreas and liver. They kept him a few days and his kidney function got worse, even on fluids. The vet said this is it. You need to put him down. I told him we wanted to bring him home for a day or so to say good-bye. You see, Frost was a rescue from a kill shelter. He  felt abandoned, and any time we've  had to leave him at the vets, he's been ecstatic to come home, loving on us, meowing, running to his toys, his food bowl, etc. I think he was always afraid he was going to be left again. I was NOT going to  let him die there, never coming home again.  The vet warned me to wait no later than Friday. He didn't say it, but he meant don't let this cat suffer any longer. 

I got the message.

So, Wednesday afternoon we picked him up. He'd lost so much weight, he was lighter than Mimi, our "little" cat. He'd lost six pounds. He was docile. On Thursday, he was weaker. Though he was still drinking water, he gagged if you put food in front of him. 

All he wanted to do was sit in David's lap. That's his favorite place.

Come yesterday, his little eyes were sunk in his head, the right one almost closed. He stayed crouched. We knew the time had come. 

We found a vet who graciously agreed to come to the house at 5:15 to put him down, as Daughter wanted to be here, too.

David went to dig the grave. Frost would be with Sam, Buster, Belle, Molly, Angel, Lily, Aussie and Perry.

I was scraping a plate to gather crumbs of wet cat food that Eli had left, so Bonnie could get a small taste. Frost came running. 

And he began to eat those crumbs. I stood there a moment, stunned. Then I sprang into action and opened a fresh can of cat food and sat it down. He ate six or seven bites. I started praising Jesus and ran to the front door and hollered at Husband, "Your cat is eating!"

I called the vet. When I told the  young receptionist, she said, "No way!  I'm gonna get Dr. Josh!"

In a very few seconds he came on the line, "Well, I guess miracles are still happening!"

I repeated everything to him, ending with, "I suppose we don't need to have him put down this afternoon."

"I would think not! He will probably fully recover now. We'll just chalk it up to, to, uh -"

"The good Lord?"

"Yeah!"

I called the other vet, cancelled the death appointment, then called Daughter at work. She said, "Praise the Lord!" and cried.

I cried too.

This morning Frost is bright eyed, making his "brrrrt, brrrrt," noise with that wily frog in his mouth, the Great White Hunter again.
I am so thankful to my Heavenly Father. I know Frost is "just a cat", but God made cats, too.  

Now, if we can keep old Frost from becoming old fat Frost....but at this moment, who cares.

Adventures on the High Seas

Okay, maybe not the high seas, but how about a high mountain? 

A few days ago I was the guest author at a book club. All these ladies, save one, drove what my granny would have called "a fer piece" to get there. 

You see, one of their members moved here a few years ago. I spoke at an event, she heard me, bought a book or two and loaned one of those books to the president of the book club she had belonged to when she lived south of Atlanta. 

Madam President like the book, suggested to the book club I might be a good candidate to speak at their book club, and they all agreed. Plus, they could come to their friend's house that sets on the river, eat some good food, buy some apples, and have a jolly good time. 

I was honored and happily agreed. Since I haven't been released by the doctor to drive yet, Husband had the honors of driving. Luckily, the hostess had a husband and the men folk entertained each other during lunch.

Let me back up a little. There was a car load of folks and I believe a van load. The van followed the car. Well, they were supposed to. The trip is already two and a half hours. The van full of women looked up around Ringgold and figured something might be a little wrong. Well, yes. There certainly was. 

Someone finally answered their cell phone and our hostess told them to exit in Ringgold, go to Dalton and come to Ellijay that way. Her husband would meet them at the Dairy Queen - after waiting forever at CVS, hauling the first load of women in, and taking back off to wait some more.

When the ladies finally  arrived, they explained how they  missed the turn to  Hwy. # 575. A. They were talking and didn't see their friends exit. B. They were talking and didn't like the GPS voice interrupting, so they turned it off. C. They were talking and forgot to turn their cell phones on. 

Did I mention when all these ladies got out of the car, they were all blondes, down to the last hair?

Anyway, we had a great time, I sold a bunch of books and we laughed like crazy. 

Thank you, ladies.

Blondes, unite!

All in the Fall

Husband has been working hard in the yard planting Iris, Day Lily, Daffodil and Hyacinth bulbs for spring. 

Of course, the planting was the easy part. First, we had to have more dirt hauled in. Then rich dirt mixed in with the good old red Georgia clay that won't grow squat. After that, holes dug. The easy part has been the actual planting of the bulbs.

Frankly, I'm exhausted by all the supervision.

Fall is finally in the air. our dogwoods are beginning to turn. I was afraid all the leaves were going to just fall off. Now if we can get a few days of good, steady rain, the leaves will be wonderfully colored.

I changed sheets on the bed yesterday, and this time Husband wanted flannel put on. He's in the mood for some cold weather.

The Apple Festival is in town, so we hear. We have enough sense not to find out for ourselves. I just hope there's parking for church tomorrow.

Dawgs lost. And from what my exploding Facebook page says, they handed the other team the win.

Husband listened to the game while  he planted bulbs. I hope they don't grow straight down and sideways because  he got excited and/or disgusted.

Did you see where Denver went from 83 degrees to 19 degrees in 24 hours and got a foot of snow? Mother Nature is really wacky. I want cooler weather, and you know I want snow soon, but not in a fast forward motion. Those folks must have been freezing to death! We need a smooth transition for some snow. Say, in six weeks. Yeah. 

Speaking of snow, it's almost as delicate to discuss with people as politics. Some hate snow, some love it. One has to be careful about enthusiasm or one will get conked on the head. 

One of my friends says I have a "snow affliction". I guess I do. 

Better than some afflictions, I reckon.

Thanks for reading!  

Getting back on the Bicycle

Last Friday, a bright, hot October afternoon, I finished one million trips to physical therapy.

Okay, maybe it wasn't really one million, but close.

It helped a lot, I ain't complaining. I'm not back as "good" as I was, but my brain is functioning better as much of the pain has gone away.

Now, if I can start driving again, Husband will be as happy as I. It's really cramped my style, not driving. And I know he's sick and tired of being my driver. I haven't driven since the first of February.

Little by little, he's regained some of his own freedom, which has caused a bit of anxiety with each step. Not walking me all the way to the pool for physical therapy, but rather staying in the waiting room was scary at first. What if I fell? But I did not.

Staying out of the bathroom while I get in and out of the shower. What if I fell? But I have not.

It's sort of like letting your toddler go for the first time. Except they are more confident that I am.

I'm back with some of my activities, including church. Routine has become more, well, routine again. 

I've thought of hundreds of topics to blog about, but wrote none of them down. I will start jotting down notes again.

I'm going to be the guest author next week at a book club, and the next week a reader at a school's family night.  I started back writing on the novel I was working on before all heck broke loose. 

So, there is life after a herniated disc + blood sepsis + reaction to antibiotics.

If you are having a rough time right now, hang in there. I may have "missed" spring, but it looks like I may get to enjoy fall.

A new season always brings hope, no? 

The Saga Continues

So, as you can tell from my last blog (if you can remember that far back, if not, scroll down), I have been in physical therapy. Except I wasn't for a month. Because I got really sick. 

The Emergency room doc said I barely got there in time, as my fever was 103 and bottom blood pressure reading was 118. I was grey, so they said.

After treating the symptoms and getting my fever down to 101, I began to be "with it" some. It took a few days for them to figure out what was wrong. I had e-coli in my blood, which kills you.

They think it came from kidney stone complications, and I haven't even mentioned having them, have I?

Eh, never mind.

Anyway, I'm back in physical therapy, though I "back slid" some from missing out a month. Hopefully I'll regain and this pain will once again go away. The good news is I didn't lose any strength in my leg. I'm doing everything "all by myself" except getting in and out of the shower and driving. I still have to stiff leg it up and down the stairs, which is aggravating, but at least I can go up and down now.

Maybe the next time I blog I'll actually have something to talk about besides being so pitiful.

I certainly hope so. I'm starting to bore myself.

It's a Plot

Physical Therapy

Day One: I'm not sure, but I think they are trying to kill me.

Day Two: Yep. 

Mystery

Cue Righteous Brothers: 

"I had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you, yeah...

The elementary school called me some months ago and said they had a mystery reader every month to read to the children, and they wanted to "go out with a bang" in May. They had called the local arts association and asked was there a local author who wrote children's books, and they recommended me! They wanted to purchase my book, "The Crow and The Wind" to give to the children, who would read the book as I read it aloud.

Many of you know I have been bedridden for 5 weeks (hence the lack of blogging), but I promised I'd be there if I had to go on a stretcher. It wasn't that dramatic, the wheel chair did fine, and they got me a really good chair to read in on stage.

Husband sat with me, as he is the illustrator of the book.

640 children filled the auditorium. They quieted down, I talked a few minutes, and when I began to read, there was total silence except the turning of 640 pages in tandem as I turned mine. I get chills typing this.

It was wonderful. Thank you to the elementary school for this privilege. I'll  never, ever forget it.

More interview

Part one of interivew - it was fun!

All He Wanted to do...

It occurred to me, as I was telling this story the other evening, that I had never blogged about it.

And as stories go, I think it's a pretty good true one.

Some time back, Husband had his  yearly doctor appointment for the dreaded physical.

You know what I mean: what might they find this time? As we get older, it seems the staff are rubbing their hands together with glee, anticipating the new diagnosis.

He'd had a 45 minute road trip, and being a male of a certain age, wanted to find a bathroom quickly. 

I guess the builders knew this, because once you go through the entrance double doors, all you a have to do is continue walking across the hall, and you'll walk right into the men's restroom.

So, Husband proceeds to go in. There's a rather large teen age boy at the sink. Husband goes into a stall. The boy, being an obedient son, did just what his mama said to do when you leave a room: He turned out the lights. 

Now, as you probably already know, this left Husband in the dark. And I ain't talking about the kind of dark when the stars and the moon are out. I'm talking about the can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face-dark. 

"What did you do?" I asked, suddenly horrified for him.

"I used the Braille method."

As he felt his way out the door, he began to plot what he was going to do to that  young man, but alas, the boy was long gone.

Husband proceeded to climb the stairs to the second floor. There he decided to go into the men's room and wash his hands, since he hadn't bothered with doing that on the first floor.

Upon opening the door, a lunging, snarling, large pit bull dog came for him. The elderly, frail man on the other end of the skinny leash said, "The dog is in service dog training."

Uh-huh. For what? A used car lot after hours?

Husband swiftly let the door close, and proceeded to the waiting room, where he was taken back to see the doctor right away.

"I'm a little concerned about your blood pressure," says the good doctor. "It's a little high."

"I should have had a stroke or a heart attack!" Husband exclaims. He then tells the physician what he'd just been through. 

The doctor claims, in that case, Husband is a fine specimen and sends him on his way.

As I've said before, you can't make this kind of stuff up.

Take That!

In Genesis 50:20 it says, "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good."

Indeed.

Last week some dirty rotten, no good, low down, rat fink hacked my e-mail account. They told all my e-mail contacts that I needed help, and would they please respond back to that e-mail?  (They were phishing for money.)Well, I don't know how many actually did, and I hope no one took the bait, but many e-mailed me back. What did I need? I got at least a dozen phone calls from worried friends and acquaintances and business acquaintances asking me what was wrong and what did I need? I got Facebook messages from all sorts of friends wanting to know  how  could they  help? All these people (even a customer service rep. from a company I do business with) wanted to know what they could do. 

Of course, many people recognized it for what it was because of the somewhat stilted use of the language. But maybe others thought I was just embarrassed to have to ask for help.

Do I deserve that amount of kindness? I don't know.

Anyway, I am really, truly touched. 

I guess I would expect close friends to respond. But folks I hadn't seen since high school, folks I haven't worked with in over fifteen years, much less customer service folks, well, I was surprised at the response. 

Well, more than surprised.

Thankful.

Yeah, that's the word.  

Just Another Day

You know how you start your day with optimism and hope? And then you get a kidney stone.

Or your back goes out and won't come home.

Or your water suddenly takes on the color of the creek after a horrible storm.

Ah, yes. I believe I may have mentioned some of that before.

So, here's a new one: Last night the cats were staring at the food dish with suspicion. For good reason, too. It was swarming with tiny black ants. Kill, kill, kill.

Husband said he would get out the stuff we use every year and put around the side of the window and counter where they come in despite us sealing it with everything including and up to Bazooka bubble gum.

But did  he? Noooo.  He said it was because he didn't want to smell it all night, and I really don't blame him.

It is natural, so it doesn't smell like chemicals (think Raid!). It smells like - well, imagine you go into your local  health food store and they  have lit every candle, every incense stick, opened every essential oil  and turned the fan on - that's what it smells like.

This morning, when I opened the dishwasher, hundreds were inside it. GROSS.

Kill, kill, kill.

And have I mentioned we have  not had a snow yet? I mean, I ain't asking for much. Just one snow.

Rant over.

For now.

Reporting In

In the voice of Sheriff Andy Taylor: "Whoo wee, I've had me a time!"

For those of you who know me, or are on my Facebook page, you know what I'm talking about. Two kidney stones less than a week apart. The second one causing a U.T.I.  I did something mysterious to my back during the last kidney stone exit that had me pretty  much bed fast for over 2 weeks. 

The chiropractor traded in their Honda for a Lexus.

Ha, just kidding. Sorta.

My poor  massage therapist's hands are wore plumb out.

I have missed four Sundays worth of church, and didn't see my Mother for nearly that long.

She wasn't very happy about that, she's used to seeing me at least once a week. 

I missed meetings and fun stuff, including celebrating my 34th wedding anniversary and my 65th birthday. 

Well, the birthday miss maybe was a good thing. Maybe I can ignore it happened.

I obviously haven't blogged. I haven't worked on the novel I thought I'd be progressing nicely in. 

You know you're in bad shape when you cancel the cleaning ladies because you can't stand the thought of noise and people, so you'll just live in the dirt. 

Dirt is easier to wallow in, anyway.

But I'm better now. Still not 100% as they say, but hopefully headed that way.

Who knows? I may start ripping through that novel soon.

Bless My Heart

You know how folks say we ourselves are our own worst enemies? 

Well, I believe it, after the episodes I've pulled lately.

Firstly, the other night I went to bed and could not get comfortable. It seemed the longer I lay there, the  more pain I was in - my back, my legs and feet. Plus, I just didn't feel right. 

Finally, around 2:00 a.m. a teeny tiny light bulb came on above my head and I realized I had not taken my night medications. Nothing for the neuropathy and especially my blood pressure medications. I got up, took my blood pressure (which was up). My drinking glass was dry, a good hint. So I took my night medications, woke Daughter up (there's no point in waking Husband up, he wouldn't remember it) and said, "If I die it's because I've overdosed on blood pressure medications, but don't worry, I didn't." 

She raised her head off the pillow and squinted at me. I don't know if this is because she didn't have on her glasses, or because I'd woke her up, or because she thought I'd finally  lost my marbles.

Perhaps all three.

Then, a few days later, I worked in the studio till dark. I knew I'd sat too long as I could no longer feel much from the knees down, but I'd been working on something I thought pretty important. I called the house for Husband to come with a flashlight and walk me back to the house.

Now, I have a heat pad that sits on the floor to rest my feet on, and that helps. I'd had my shoes off with my feet resting on the pad. When Husband arrived, I felt around with my (numb) feet and slipped my shoes on. I shuffled to the door and commenced the walk back. Every step was agony. Each step was worse than the one before. It was awful.

When I got back to the house, I looked down and saw my shoes were on the wrong feet.

Well, that explained a lot.

Till next time!

You Just Can't Trust 'em

I've come to the conclusion that the most untrustworthy people on the planet are not politicians. 

They come in second. (Or third, depending on  where you stand regarding attorneys.)

First prize goes to meteorologists.

They talk, I think, to get themselves all excited.

"It's gonna snow! A foot! Well, maybe an inch! There may (or may not be) ice, too.  Be sure and put chains on the tires of the car before you go out and fist fight your neighbor for bread and milk. And possibly cat food."

Then they "go to" someone out in the wilderness of north Georgia who is dressed like an Eskimo, and is showing a snowflake that someone has preserved in their freezer since the blizzard of 1993. They look into the camera with a dramatic expression and solemnly say, "This is what you may (or may not) experience by tomorrow morning." Then he/she squints up  into the night sky and reports they might feel some frozen precipitation hitting their face as they speak.

The next morning-which is bright and sunny, I might add-they are all smiles and talk about how the snow missed us, but just barely.

Once again they go to their partner in the wilderness of north Georgia, who is now in flip flops and a Hawaiian flare-dee shirt and sipping an icy co-coler. All toothy grin, he/she talks about what a close call it was, all said between slurps of their cold drink.

I'm sick of it. I'm thinking about suing for pain and suffering. I don't want a blizzard; I ain't crazy.  But a few inches of beautiful white fluffy snow would be nice.

It is January, after all.

Just stop talking about it. If it comes, it comes. and if it doesn't I'll keep on my flip flops and Hawaiian flare-dee shirt and call it a day.

At least I don't need bread and milk now.