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.

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.

Of Lightning Strikes, Kidney Stones and Yankee Cousin

It's always an adventure when Yankee Cousin comes to visit each summer, and well it should be. But...

Not all adventures are Yippee and Wowzee and Oh boy! kind of adventures.

Firstly, we had to be at the Atlanta Airport before the crack of dawn. Well, okay, before 9:00 a.m. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so traffic wasn't like being in you-know-where. (Rush hour.)

Back at home with full Cracker Barrel bellies, we commenced to do nothing. Suddenly a severe thunderstorm was upon us and BAM! No electricity. For 6 hours.  We'd just fired up our battery operated lanterns for the night when power was restored. We appreciated the air conditioning coming back on.

The  next evening, BAM! No electricity. Yankee Cousin wailed (she did, she really did). Husband said, "Welcome to living in the mountains."

Lighting struck our modem, too. Just for extra kicks and giggles. 

I will say the fellas came early Monday morning to replace our modem. And the power was restored this time in under an hour.

Mid-week I started painin' in my, um, everything, as a kidney stone is wont to do. This went on for a day or two, then I passed that sucker but a UTI lingered. 

I told Yankee Cousin she must think  I'm the biggest hypochondriac in the whole world, because every time she's here, I have some weird physical ailment strike. 

She said she'd never, ever, never think that! (Me thinkest thou protesteth too much)

But worse, worse than all the above (well, nearly, it's hard to top a kidney stone, can I hear an amen) was I lost my brand new unopened pill bottle of hormone stuff that prevents hot flashes.

I have torn up the car, the pantry, my dresser drawers, etc. to no avail. The only thing I can figure is they somehow fell in the trash in the pantry. (whimpers)

I called the doc, and the nurse said that since hormone thieves aren't rampant, she'd agree to a refill early. 

Ya'll just don't know what a close call you had. 

Catch Up

Well,  it's been a few weeks. I know I ain't blogging like I was. But I'm trying to get this book off the ground, and between that and everybody going to the doctor forty-eleven times, I'm pretty worn out, plus sick of the computer.

Husband had himself some surgery. He looks like he was on the losing end of a knife fight. (Although he reassures me that if he had been a real knife fight, he would have won, of course.)

He had this teeny weeny spot above his lip removed. Now he has thirteen stitches, a bloody, swollen mouth (think duck bill) and a bruise running down his chin and under his neck. 

What he doesn't have (now) is cancer. This is good. Right now, it's just bad and ugly.

Of course, he's not been able to bend down or lift. He's milking it for all it's worth. He's developed this whine to his voice when he says my name that reminds me of a dentist's drill.

Mother, of course, had to have a run in with the hospital during all this. She'd been on antibiotics for a U.T.I. and it caused her to develop Ulcerative  Colitis. We had the joy of spending the entire night in the ER. But she is better now, at least for now.

Other Brother passed a kidney stone. I think he got an A+ for his effort, since the doctor said it couldn't be done.

I'm still in physical therapy for my tootsies. It seems to be helping!

We won a million dollars in the lottery. (Not really, just seeing if you are paying attention.)

Our car has to have a software update. Is that totally ridiculous, or what? 

Next step in the book process is to get a nice list in order as to how I want the book to flow.

And I'm still waiting on the CD to come back from being "pressed". Either it was really wrinkled or somebody in Nashville is listening to it over and over....or I'm in a long line at the press place.

Well, I guess that's it for now. If you think of something else, let me know.

Sometimes Life is a Pain in the Rear

I know,  know. It's been over a month since I blogged.

But frankly, life has been a big pain in the rear lately, and I mean that literally as well as figuratively.

I've been in physical therapy twice a week for a while and that's real nice and all, but I'm getting tired of it. At least the cast is gone except I'm supposed to wear it at night (Cue hysterical laughter).

I've also had two kidney stones and one kidney infection thanks to the first kidney stone.

I hurt my back so bad I thought I might just croak. Physical therapy put dry needles with heat on my rear (I told you life had been a pain in the rear), which didn't help. So I went to a chiropractor, a new one since mine is on medical leave, and he did one thousand things to me, including putting electrodes on my rear end (see??).

After scanning my spine ("Oh my," sez he) and doing a bunch of everything else, he said I'd somehow knocked my tailbone a'windin'. Okay, that's not exactly what he said, but you get the picture.

I walked (sorta) out with less pain but extreme stiffness. Thank goodness I was scheduled for a massage yesterday morning, and after she left I napped and got up feeling better. I still can't sit for long without gettin' stove up, but I'm better.

The chiropractor will see me again tomorrow to adjust me again and show me some exercises, the word everyone who is in excruciating pain yearns to hear. Tuesday I get a break so I can take Mother to the neurologist (if I can ride by then) and then it's back to Physical Therapy on Wednesday.

Somebody stop this merry-go-round and let me off so you can give me some money to help pay for all this mess!  ha!

I didn't bother to mention that the antibiotics have given me a severe case of the Green Apple Two Step, even though I 'm on two different kinds of probiotics, because that's TMI for even my blog.

And yet:

A friend, who is even in worse shape than me 'cause she can't stand upright without breaking something, called to check on me and just talk. Thank you.

And another friend purchased a book and mailed it to me from Broken Arrow, OK, because she knew it was my kind of book and I'd enjoy it. Thank you.

And another friend, who is virtually home bound due to a few crippling issues, e-mailed me and had Husband pick up fresh eggs from her "girls" that we are already enjoying. Thank you.

And I have friends who have told me they love me and are praying for me.  Thank you.

And a friend who asked me how I hurt my back and told me I was dumb to do that in my condition and not to EVER do that again. Thank you

And Daughter and Husband who fret over me, drive me to all these appointments, wait on me and never whine (at least in front of me). Thank you.

And to all of you who have patiently waited on this blog, only to hear me whine, but will read the next one anyway. Thank you.

Life ain't so bad after all.

Suffering Amongst Us

My poor old brother has suffered a lot, and continues to do so. I have everybody I even remotely know praying up a storm (I hope) that he will get well, for goodness sake.

Of course, this has my elderly mother worried sick. She can't be there, she isn't able to ride that far, walk that far, or even stay, which of course, since he is still in ICU they wouldn't let her anyway.

As you know, I had me a kidney stone a few days ago, which resulted in lots of infection, which has resulted in them powerful antibiotics.

Which has resulted in all sorts of problems.

I woke up in the  middle of last night curled into the fetal position with pain right smack dab where an old ulcer used to live.

I knew I had to have food. But Daughter saw me, and went downstairs for me, and brought me a sugar cookie and a glass of milk.

Awwww.

This worked for about three hours, and I awoke again, in more pain than before. I went into the bathroom and slung junk asunder under the sink until I found a bottle of Zantac and took myself a pill.

In about twenty minutes the pain eased enough for me to go to sleep.

Today has been uncomfortable, but I hope I can tolerate the medication, because I need to get rid of the infection.

However; I am swolle up.

If you ever wondered what a fifty-nine year old woman looks at five months pregnant, I'm your poster child.

And it ain't pretty.

You know it's bad when your sweat pants are too tight.

But in spite of all the misery, there is good news: The doctors have found what the problem is with my brother and hopefully can correct it now.

My first column is coming out in the local paper "The Best of Ellijay Blue Ridge Jasper".

A very popular store in Blue Ridge is taking one of my books, "Out on a Limb of the Family Tree" to sell because they think it will do great.

Daughter  has responded to antibiotics and her throat doesn't look like Armageddon anymore.

See? There is always a silver lining.

Or two.

And How Are You This Morning?

Brother had a super serious surgery yesterday, and this morning things are well, but he is in a lot of pain.

Daughter stayed over with Mother because Other Brother (who lives with Mother) would be getting in late from hospital stay while Brother had surgery.

Daughter suddenly had a very  high fever in the middle of the night and now throat is "red with white junk on it." to quote Daughter.

She is at doctor's as we speak. Alone, because:

Me, myself got up in the middle of the night knowing something wasn't "quite right". And boy, oh boy, was I right.

Mr. Kidney Stone is having his way with me.

Me (in bathroom): "Hiss. Groan. Moan. Oh, lord! Hiss. Whimper..."

Husband: "Pretend you're at the beach."

Me: "Kiss my butt. Hissssss...groan, whimper."

And how is your morning?

It Who Shall Not Be Named

I haven't blogged in a few days, because I have been extremely busy.

What with all the writhing, moaning, gasping, pleading for relief, and generalized whining, who had time to blog?

Why all this carrying on, you ask?

You know, the word kidney has nice connotations. We love our kidneys, some people even give other people one of theirs.

There are kidney beans, we like our pools to have a kidney shape. There's kidney pie (eww. These people eat blood pudding, too, and I wouldn't want to eat either one).

The word stone is okay too. David slew a giant with a smooth, round stone. There's stone soup. (yummy). We have stone walkways, stone chimneys, we tell folks a place is just a stone's throw away.  We listen to the Rolling Stones. And they gather no moss. Some people collect stones.

But when you put the word kidney and the word stone together, that's quite a different story.

When one has a kidney stone and it is moving in one's body, it is akin to trying to deliver a very angry porcupine. Once delivered, they resemble a hard little rock with spikes all over it's surface.

The first one I had (and I shall not call them by their name), was many years ago. I was amazed at how I was suddenly all consumed. It passed in a few hours, and no damage seemed to be done.

I was in town a few days later when a man approached me. I've known him all my life, he is probably twelve to fifteen years older than I. We speak when we see each other, but have never held a conversation.

But this time he came right up to me and said, "I understand you are one of us now."

I quickly scanned my brain to see what I had joined via work. Nada. So I looked at him, smiled, and, as is my very chatty way, politely said, "Huh?"

He'd heard about  my you-know (do we live in a small town, or what?), and said once you were a member of this particular club, it was a lifetime membership.

I was extremely alarmed. I said, "I don't want to be in your club! I never want to experience that again!"

He smiled serenely, patted my shoulder and walked away.

I decided then and there I would avoid anyone I knew who had been afflicted.

A year later I had another one. It was bigger. It took longer to pass. I had the unfortunate addition of it hitting me while I was at my Mother's, who became fairly  hysterical as my groaning, writhing, pacing, etc., escalated. She begged me to go to the emergency room. I tried to patiently scream at her that I could not ride in a car, I might  jump out, and I would kill someone in the emergency room if not treated wtih respect and speed.

But my sister-in-law showed up and insisted I go. When I walked through the ER doors, a nurse looked up and hollered, "Kidney stone!" and took me right back.

She told me on the way to a room that she'd had five kids and one kidney stone and would rather have five more children than one more of the other. They gave me pain medication, put some fluid in me, and I passed it.

I vowed to never even say the two words aloud again. EVER. And if anyone even said the word kidney, I left the room, just in case.

A year later I had another one. This was the big one, Elizabeth. The other two had been child's play. I called the urologist (yes, I had one by then), and he said if I didn't pass it in so many hours, to come in.

Well, I passed it. It was so big it plinked in the water, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

I was passing blood the next morning, so I journeyed on to the doctor. Massive infection, massive tearing.

At that point, I decided that anytime I sensed the club was having a meeting about something or other, I would sit in the back, be as quiet as a doormouse, fade into the furniture, a wall flower. ANYTHING not to be  noticed. And for safety's sake, I'd keep my hands over my ears.

And a dozen years or more passed. And that was all that passed.

Until Tuesday. And, of course, you know the rest of the story.

It's gone now.

But I fear I have been elected an officer at a meeting I didn't attend.