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I've only been talking about it since the day I found that the jammy bottoms my son's sister left in her closet here fit me now! I came up with more excuses than usual to not have a picture taken in them. I really really don't like most(ok, all) of the pictures I've had taken over the past 11 or so years. Then, I decided to just get it over with and handed the camera to Golan last night and told him to shoot me. He did, and I actually am quite pleased with the way I look in them! Right. Now, you tell me how I look 60 lbs lighter.
See how much room there is in the legs? And never mind the chins. I also don't really want to talk about how much it hurt to force myself to stand up straight. Back when I was young, beautiful and able to walk, I had very good posture, but, now that my spine is distegrating, I'm kind of bent over when I stand up. I figured this out from the pictures I posted yesterday.The original plan for these jammy pictures was to have Pegasus in them too, but he wasn't having any of it and plopped himself down on the floor to my right. He's getting almost as good as I am at hiding from cameras. Smart doggy
Nothing much of any note happened yesterday, and here we are at Tuesday, waiting to see who/if anyone shows up for the weekly cleaning hour The kitchen is in pretty good shape for a change, so, I think we'll do the 'pantry' instead of dishes and stove top before we do the floor. Or, maybe, change the bed. I have about half an hour to cogitate on the international implications of the options!
I am doing this under protest. I really do not like having my picture taken, and I dislike posting it on the interweb even more. Yeah, I know I've posted more than a few here, but, in my defense, they were only to illlustrate events. I have now been convinced that losing 60 pounds IS an event that needs a picture posted. So, here's one, in illustration of the first time in close to 11 years that I bought a 'sweat suit' at a proper sized people store. Thanks to this picture I have discovered that I can not stand up straight any more. Oh, well, here I am 60 lbs. lighter.
The neckline of the top is a little crooked, but, then, so am I! Just try and imagine hauling around 60 lbs more. Scary, isn't it? There will be another picture coming along one of these days. It will illustrate the jammy bottoms I raided from my son's sister's closet, and the jammy bottoms are getting a little bigger! I am the world's champion spiller and there were coffee and soup spots on the thighs of the jammy bottoms, and I wasn't about to have a picture taken with those stains. I finally got them clean and am fast running out of excuses to not have the picture taken!
Nothing of earth shattering consequence has happened since my last post except that my son called, and they have another baby on the way. Ok, so, that isn't world shattering news, but it is pretty exciting to this gimpy old granny. I'm not sure when the new member of the family is due. I kind of forgot to ask because we got into the whole 'I do not want to know the baby's gender' thing My son's generation is used to everything NOW and just can't wait for much of anything. The sad thing is that because they can find out the gender in the early months, they will never know the delicious feeling of anticipation that parents of my generation had.I might be brain damaged and a little forgetful these days, but I do remember how much fun it was to wonder if it would be a boy or a girl and talking about names for either option. Back in those olden days, it was possible to find out the gender by amniocentesis(sp) but that was usually only done to check for suspected defects after an ultra sound or if there was a family history. Ultra sound was pretty primitive in those days and it was really hard to figure out what the baby would be. These days even a half blind person can see for themselves what it will be.That is good medically, but, it takes away all that wonderful anticipation. Yup, the NOW generation sure is missing out on one of the most wonderous experiences we of the 'medical dark ages' got to enjoy until the very end. Unless of course, you were married to my ex husband, and he was in the labor room with you. In that case the anticipation could last a little longer. When my son's sister was born, the baby catcher announced that she was a girl. Her father disagreed with that medical opinion and argued that, "No, It's a boy!" They went back and forth on that a few times until the poor, sore, wondering mother said that she'd go with the baby catcher on that as he has more experience in gener recognition! Poor Daddy finally figured out that, yes, it's a girl! Ah, the good old days. Of course I still like anticipating things. Just about anything. It's one of life's greatest pleasures for me.I wake up every morning thankful that I will be able to find out what the new day holds for me. Ok, sometimes I could be happier without some of the things, but, that's just the way it goes sometimes. Even then, I'm thankful for even those days.I just love being alive and able to function at all. Anticipation is, to me,one of the best parts of being alive. That, and curiosity.
I have a very close friend from early childhood whose bithday and old home phone number are indelible in my mind. I sent her an e card on her birthday and never got notification that she opened it. That got me to thinking that maybe I had the wrong e daay for her, and came up with the bright idea of contacting her through Facebook. It worked, and then, I found out that she had gone to Maine to help her mother who had broken her arm. So, yeah, of course I called. She had taken herself off to an interweb coffee house, so, wasn't home (duh). I did have a most wonderful chat with her mother. Boy did that ever take me back in time. It was a bittersweet reminder of my own mother, and after we hung up I got a little nostalgically weepy, but it was a very nice weepiness. Part of it was that she brought my mother and childhood back so clearly, and that I was talking to someone who had actually known me pretty much from the day I was born and my whole life history was pretty much known to her. It was wonderful, and I do know that my friend knows just how fortunate she is to still have her mother.I still ache all over missing my parents.But, I do still have my brother, and that's wonderful. I adore and admire that kid so much. And am ever so thankful that I still have him.
I've had, what? 58 birthdays so far and I remember very few of them. What I do remember from the last 9 or so is how happy I was to be here for them. Today easily qualifies as one of the worst ever. I was awake unti well after 0300, and was woken by the phone at 0830. Yes, this time I did answer the blue tooth, not a cigarette lighter. The minute I heard my friend Etty's voice, I knew what she was going to tell me. Her husband Yaacov passed away last Thursday and she couldn't reach me to tell me before the funeral. Etty and Yaacov were the only people that I stayed in touch with from Nazareth Elite after I moved here. There are few better friends than they. Yaacov had hands that could fix anything and a sense of humor that would have put most standupists to shame. He was one smart guy. The world is a sadder place without him in it. They are sitting Shiva at his mother's house near Tiberius, which means I can easily visit as there are no stairs to negotiate. I'm thinking of maybe going tomorrow.
The car needed to have it's annual inspection today. As I can't exactly get into the office myself, Golan went with me, and did that part. Then, I brought him back here and went back to go through the test. After the headlights were checked and I was informed that the car doesn't need glasses, I had to move up to a pit so they could check stuff from there. As soon as I stopped over the pit, I was overwhelmed and the tears started. It's just so sad that a guy who is only 60 years old gets a brain tumor and then dies. He had so much to live for. Both their sons are now married and have kids and are doing well in general. He was so proud of them and should have had more time to enjoy them. After a few weepy moments, I got control again and finished the test. The only thing wrong was the wiper blades but for NIS 30 they were changed on the spot and the car is good to go. Of course I had to take it back to that office I can't get into. The tester guy grabbed someone who was going in and asked him to sort it for me. He did, and even put the new sticker on for me. So, the car is good to go. It will get it's annual wash for passing the test tomorrow as it's kind of raining today. Now that that's all over with, I can get on with being sad. It certainly goes with the weather.
I don't much like my birthday any more. I used to like it a lot more when my father was still alive and sent that annual birthday/ Hannukah check. Not for the money, but because he remembered. I miss him all the time, but it's even worse at this time of the year.One thing that do like about my birthday is (are you ready for this?) that I am one year older than I was on my last one. With all the things that have gone wrong with me, I never quite expected to make it this far, but am quite pleased that I did. I bought myself a present this year and am trying to pretend to myself that it's from my father.
Isn't she cute? Golan is going to help hang her up someplace later. Gimp House doesn't exactly have a lot of spare floor space for her to take up, so, we'll just have to hang her.
Another thing I'm giving myself for birthday is to send an unused cell phone to a friend in The States. She really can't afford one right now, and I don't use this one, so why not?
All in all it's shaping up to be a fine birthday and I hope I have lots more! (wicked grin of evility)
It really is fun being me, or should I say funny? I never know what I'm going to do next! So far I've used my right ear as an ash tray, slammed my face in the fridge door, almost wiped dog poop off the floor with my face, driven Harley up the side of Gimp House and been dumped unceremoniously onto the ramp. But the latest doesn't fall short of the others except that it really posed no danger to me at all, which makes it all the funnier.
Every night when I climb into bed, I put my blue tooth 'ear' on the table next to 'my' side of the bed. The cell phones go on the other side of my bed and just lie there getting charged. The other morning the main cell phone rang and I reached for the blue tooth 'ear' to answer it. The phone was still ringing but I didn't hear anyone on the other end of the ear. I finally gave in and opened my eyes to find out what was wrong with the 'ear' and discovered that I was trying to answer a cigarette lighter that is similar in shape to the 'ear'. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, I decided that the best course of action was to just go back to sleep.
Now, who can honestly say that they know someone who has done even one of those things I've managed to do in the last six months or so?
Yes, it really is fun to be me. I never know what I'm going to do next. It's fun finding out, though.
It's an internationally known fact that I am total crap in the morning. There's a very strong element of stay away until I've my morning coffee to it. Who knows this better than good old Pegasus, who has been subjected to my morning fits for almost 20 years now? You'd think that after living in Gimp House since 2002 he's have the morning routine pretty strongly engrained. It really should be automatic. It's the same thing every single morning. I get up, go pee, get him and his lead sorted, roll to the door with him behind the wheely, open the door, then, unlatch the screen door, back up, let him go out ahead of me, hook him onto his nice long chain that is locked onto a ramp railing. Every day. Every single day. For some reason, known only to him, he didn't quite get the behind the chair part and his lead got wound around the left wheel of the wheely. Now, I'm in a wheely because I kind of can't walk. The chair can't go forward or backwards, I can't stand long enough to sort the lead. Uh oh. Trouble accompannied by lots of yelling, shouting and cussing. I did finally manage to wrestle the chair into the living room, and put the wheely's cushion on his 'bed', fold the wheely, tip it over and release the lead. I had released him from the lead before the wrestling part. Right. Lead in hand, wheely upright, cushion in place, and this time he gets it right, and I can go make my coffee and calm down.
He's pulled that trick before, but never gotten the lead wrapped around the wheel. If I have anything to say about it, he won't get another chance.
Old gimps can learn new tricks from old dogs.
My addiction training program worked out very nicely and my pharmacist said that he wished more people used it. According to him, most folks just want to get rid of their pain, and don't give any thought to what they are getting into.
*I* on the other hand, thought about it long and hard.(cue applause) I also didn't want to go through what went through back when we were looking for an NSAID and every single one I tried gave me impossible side affects without stopping the pain until we found that Naxcyn (naproxin) did the job. The fact that it eventually gave me a nice peptic ulcer is what lead me to trying several non NSAIDs, none of which worked for more than a dose or two. That's when I started thinking about moving into the world of addictive pain murderers, and asked the doc for one of the oxys. He gave me a prescription for 5mg of oxycontin, which most pharmacies don't keep on hand. The one I went to said that they would have some for me the next day. I promptly decided to take Naxcyn until it came in, which I did, figuring that one or two couldn't do much more damage to my stomach, and that I might finally get a good night's sleep. I did take one that night and the pain was gone within half an hour and I slept quite well that night.I took another in the morning, and again, no hurting. I picked up the 5mg and took the first one at around 1500, then, read the little mini book that comes with it. I should have done that first. It's quite specific about taking them at 12 hour intervals. So, I got to to delay taking the next one until I got the timing right. In fact, I started taking just one a day, instead of two. You really should work your way up the dosage ladder very slowly and pay close attention to your body and it's reactions. That first dose kept the pain down to a low roar until the next morning, and, most importantly, I didn't seem to have any bad reactions to it. I knew it would be ok. I finished the 5mg box in 11 days because after the first day, I decided to try the two a day regimen like the doc prescribed.
I asked him to up it to 10mg on the grounds that the pharmacy always has 10mg and higher in stock, and that it would wonderful to get rid of even more of the pain and I wasn't having any bad reactions to it. So, after the doc had a quick phone consultation with the pharmacist, who told him that he really didn't know when he'd get the 5mg in, and that he thought it was a very bad idea to have me taking Naxcyn while waiting, he agreed, and I went down to get it.
Thing about pain is that it has a purpose. It's to tell us that something is wrong. I was hoping that the 10mg would get the pain down to a very dull roar so that if anything else went wrong, as things tend to do with me, I'd know it. Pain killers don't discrimminate. They knock out pain, and too many times you can miss something important because you can't feel it. Right. The 10mg gets the pain right down to where I want it. I can feel that the pain is still there, but it really is much less and lets me get through the day easily and I am sleeping ever so much better at night. What a relief that is after the last year and a half!
So, my addiction training program was a great success. I have the pain under control, my body has not had any bad reactions to it, and I haven't had that buzz or high others had warned me about. And my pharmacist ( a great guy in any event) loved The Plan and said that he intends to start recommending it to newcomers to world of narcotics.
Works for me! And I highly recommend it to anyone contemplating entering the world of junkydom!
Some of us gimps have trouble getting up in bed. THe 'normal' ones amongst us install a proper trapeze contraption like they have in hospitals over their beds. Me, I install a tarzan rope that I bought in Maine, not knowing what in heaven's name it was. All I knew was that it was purple, so I bought it and when asked by several other shoppers what it was, simply told them that it doesn't matter what it was. It's purple and that's all I need to know about it.
I usually don't have trouble sitting up in bed and can to sit ups, pretty much forever. When I got sprung from my last hospitalization I had trouble sitting up because my stomach was sore from repated shots of Clexane. That was when I realized what the purple thing I'd bought in Maine was for; it's a Tarzan Rope. See?
It might look a little odd, but it works and it's not dangling in my face like a proper trapeze would! It sure did come in handy the morning after I forgot to take my meds, and my back did not want to hear about sitting up or anything else. It's even more fun if you can do a proper Tarzan call! That's really fun if someone else is in the house! Hmmm, my box spring is getting a little tatty. I've only had it since 1985, and moved 5 times since then, so I guess it's allowed to look like that.
As usual, there is nothing 'average' or 'usual' with me medically! I've been happily cruising along on 2.5mg of rat poison daily and the clotting levels have been just fine. Then, Sunday rolled around, as it tends to every week or so, and I went and got a blood draining for a clotting level. It came as no surprise that my clinic's site refused to let me in to check the results. That was most annoying as I had a feeling that something would be way off. There was absolutely no leackage from the stick site. That's a first for me. There is usaully at least a small leak, but, not a drop on Sunday. Then, last evening I got a call from my doc telling me to not take any rat poison and to show up for a repeat draining today. My INR was 6, which is high, but makes absolutely no sense in light of the no leakage on Sunday. For once I followed doctor's oeders without arguing, and just came back from the repeat drainage, with strict orders to call my doc at 1700 for the results, which, if today's leakage is anything to go by, should be spot on.
I wonder, if as St. Gracie suggested, the levels might be cockeyed because of my new addict in training regimen? It's not like anything can be ruled out with me, but I have my doubts about that one. The only thing I can really attribute to addiction training is the case of the squits I suddenly developed on Sunday. According to other addict friends, constipation is what usually happens, so, what do i do? I go and develope the exact opposite. My cleaning lady is here now. When she finishes, I'm going back to the clinic to have a nice long chat with the doc about this stuff. I was in a rush to get out of there and back here so I wouldn't miss her. The state of the floor is embarrassing even to Pegasus. There are clumps of dried mud everywhere and scraps of paper that he liberated from the trash bin next to my bed. I just ignore it as I roll over and around it. Addicts in training are not expected to clean floors when they have a cleaning lady who actually shows up once a week or so!
It's amazing how cheap and easy it is to be become a 'legal' addict in Israel. We've pretty much run out of pain killer options, so my doc suggested that I try oxycontin. He did warn that it's highly addictive, (yeah, yeah, I know) as he was printing the prescription. I charged downstairs to my clinic's pharmacy, but they don't keep it in stock down there, so I had to go to a Superpharm (kind of like a Wallgreens) and they don't keep it there either. The head pharmacist did call around and found some that would be there the next day, but I had to get the prescription changed because he can't give out 20 of them in one go unless the doc specifies a reason for that much. So, yesterday morning, it was back to the doc who just gave me a new one that specified 2 per day for 10 days and that solved the problem. And they only cost NIS 13, which is around $3.25. I'm going to go nice and slow with it and start with 1 a day, like those vitamins. Cheap, innit? In the mean time my doc has sent off for official permanent approval for me to take it. That should be ok as my pain is my lower back which is slowly disintegrating, and left leg which needs both knee and hip joints replaced. They can't do that because you need the other leg to be able to go through rehab after the replacement and that leg is partialy paralyzed, so the replacements are a no go. My sawbones told me several years ago that it would be a matter of pain management. I took Naxyn (naproxen) for 10 years, then found that it caused a nice little ulcer which lead to all the nonesense with the coumadin. I did try a few other non NSAIDs which did nothing for the pain. So, here I am an addict in training! At least it's cheap.And after taking one, it works. It's also the lowest dose, 5mg.
I did finally get a solid night's sleep last night. Constant pain can do wicked things to a person. It really sucks about the ulcer because the Naxyn does work quite well. But, I am thankful that there is something else. It really doesn't matter if I do get addicted because there are really no ther options at this point.
Please don't ask how I manged to do this. Let's just leave it at; it takes a special talent that I apparently have. As I was manuevering Harley to get off the ramp and head into town, he suddenly took it into his head that it would be ever so much fun to dump me off his seat and onto the ramp. He had more success with that than I did with getting up from the ramp. There I sat, with my legs dangling over the edge of the ramp, waiting for one of the crew that's working in the flat across from mine to come out. After a few minutes, the foreman came out, with the foreman from the renovation of Gimp House. When I saw that Ali was there too, I knew all would well. The two foremen and another guy from the crew tried to get me up, but didn't succeed. Ali went off and found an nice strong board and got two more guys and after I'd scooted back to sit on the board, they managed to lever me up. I ended up with a scraped left ankle bone a sore right arm and the usual aches and pains in my back and right leg. They were so sweet, and waited until I got off the ramp with Harley. The 2 guys who really don't know me, wanted to help me back off the ramp, but Ali told them that I'm quite able to do that on my own.
I headed straight for the clinic to get my monthly meds and have a chat with the sugeon about that test he wants done, but that I can't get to too early in the morning. I also wanted the nurse to put something on the new scrape. I found my little bottle of spray bandage and she sprayed me, so, that's all set. The surgeon said that he'd sort out something with the test, and my regular doc had to leave, so we'll do the meds tomorrow. We also have an issue with my pain meds. THe last two I tried are useless. He said that if he gave me one of the oxys, there might be an addiction issue. Like that worries me? I've only been on pain meds for 11 years. Duh. He did say we'd sort it tomorrow. Ok, so I wait another day. It's just pain.
After that, I picked up a carton of fags, and went to my favorite grocery store to pick up a few things.
Now, I'm home and my bed is calling me. It'll have to wait until I get that cake I've been planning baked. When it's out of the oven, I will answer the call of the bed.
I have kind of taken over the large closet my ex daughter left behind when she got married. I assume that if she had wanted it, it would be long gone by now. She left a bunch of clothes in it. She never dreamed that I'd ever get thin enough to wear any of the things she left and even told me to get rid of my old clothes because I'd never ever fit into them again. Really?
It was a little chilly here the other night and I remembered that there were two pairs of satin jammies in that closet. I got them out, and guess what? They fit. I guess losing 60+ pounds had something to do with it. I still have a way to go before I get back to the point where my old clothes will fit properly, but I'm well on the way. So there.
Other than that, not much has been happening except that I managed to turn night into day again. It's enough to drive a body wild. By around 0300 my body aches to sleep, but I just can't. Then I do, and wake up late in the morning. Then I end up struggling not to doze off during the afternoon so that maybe I'll be able to sleep at night. That doesn't always work. It ain't easy being a night owl, but, I guess I'll just have to learn to live with it. It would be much easier if the rest of the world was more accommodating. I rather doubt that will ever happen.
Yes, that was a huge sigh you just heard.
I came very close to forgetting that yesterday, Columbus Day in 1970 was the day I landed in Israel for the very first time and knew beyong a shadow of a doubt that I had found the place I was destined to live in.I do believe that everyone has a place for them. Some find it right in their back yards, others, the really lucky ones find it elsewhere quite by accident, like I did. To this day I'm not entirely sure where the idea to come here came from. Divine Inspiration, maybe? But, the minute I got off that plane, I knew I was in My Place. It took a lot longer to find the sprcific place here. I was sent to teach English in Kiryat Shmonah and knew very early on in the school year that this was the spot. Two days after school let out for the summer, I moved up here with kids, lock stock and barrel. I feel so blessed to have found my place. I can't even begin to imagine living any place else. I am well and truly home.
After making an inept attempt at repairing my Windows operating system, and making a right mess of it, and getting the sweetest techie from the cable company in to fix my non working cable phone, my computer decided to pack it in. I'm still not quite sure what all was wrong with it, so I did the smart thing and got my geek in. He set up the laptop and I got it connected to the interweb, and off this one went in brand new Chevy ambulance to the Kiryat Shmonah Computer Hospital. There was a knock on the door at a little after noon and the computer was home and declared cured of all ills, viral and otherwise. Again I got it connected to the interweb, and started downloading all my stuff, like Firefox and Thunderbird. Thunderbird refuses to work correctly. It receives mail but cannot send. A very sweet guy from my server tried for ages by remote to get it to send, but it was stubborn in it's refusal. In the end we did get the detested Outlook Express to both send and receive. Now all I have to do is try and remember everyone's e addys. Yeah, right. I do have a pretty good memory of what my usual downloads were and have started rebuilding my favorites list. It should be finished in 10 years or so. It's going to be a long long night.
Susie, please, send me those stories again.
It's been one of those weeks so far and it looks like it just might continue that way for a while. My cleaning lady was supposed to come yesterday. I really needed her because the sink was full to over flowing with dishes, pots and pans. I discoverd that, yes, I can do them myself, but evrey time I do, I come away with another 'do it yourself home PT test' and that hurts! After all, why do I have a cleaning lady? To clean stuff I can't like the floor and now dishes.
Ok, so she didn't come yesterday. She's been with me just long enough for me to figure out that she wiuld probably appear today. She did. So, that's that. Dishes are done, floor is washed, and I'm a prisoner in the computer corner unless I want wheely marks on the nice clean floor!
I don't mind being a prisoner here because I can keep on with my new addiction-Bookworm. Last night I quit for the day at level 16 which is the highest I've ever gotten. We had some wet, noisy weather for a while and I was nervous that the lightening might cause the power to go out and I'd lose the game. Luck was with me and the power stayed on, and this morning I'm up to level 19, a new record. I do enjoy this game. I go to it every chance I get.
Now I have to decise if I want to go out or stay in for the rest of the day. I'll decide after I bring Peg in. The floor is dry enough now.
It's quite a nice day, but I think I'll stay in as I don't really have anything to do outside today.
A few months ago my partner in crime and I went on a little crusade against some local criminal types who had illegally taken over an abandoned building behind our houses and had started all kinds of illegal bulldozing and building. There is a stream between our houses and the property they took over. They used the stream as their own private dumping ground and caused it to back up and overflow it's banks in heavy rain which we had last night. Golan and I sent e mails to just about evryone in the country who might have an interest in putting a stop to the criminal activity going on there. Eventually we hit on the right person and one fine day the work was stopped in it's tracks by a court order. We tried to get one of the local newspapers interested, but the reporter refused to go near it and gave the head criminal our names. In the end the rival paper picked it up and low and behold, that first reporter got her ass fired.We had spoken to her boss about it several times and he wanted to do an expose on it. When the rival paper covered it, he realized that she had torpedoed the story for personal reasons. You don't do that to your editor and stay employed for long. Now both papers are in on the act!
Now all we have to do is get the stream bed cleaned up. Right now it's a breeding ground for mosquitoes as the water level has gone way back down to almost stagnant. There's Nile fever in the area, so, someone will be around to get it cleaned up. I'd go down there myself, but there's no way to get Harley down the bank, and the stream bed is not passsable either.I guess City Hall will have to handle it. If they don't we know exactly who to talk to to force their hand.
One of these days things will get done prperly the first time. Friday was not one of those days. I went to the clinic to get my meds for the month, and the doc only gave me half a month od 3 of them, so, back I went today to get the rest. I have four pill boxes that I fill up at the beginning of the month so I don't have to futz around opening ten different boxes of the meds in the morning and at night. I like it when I get it all done the first time. So, I was not pleased to discover that the doc didn't write twice a day for three of them so the computer would give me whole month's supply at the pharmacy. Today I went and got it sorted. Now I have to sit and fill the remaning boxes, and recheck the others.
After getting that sorted, I went down to the Industrial Zone, where my preferred supermarket and picked up few items. The gal at the check out told me that I can't write a check in purple ink. Oh yeah? All the law requires is ink, not pencil, and I've only been writing checks with purple ink for 20 years. I get so annoyed at these Russians who think they know everything. She was informed by her head cashier that I do and can write checks with my handy dandy purle pen and that it's prefectly legal. I think that next time I'll write in the Jewish date which is also legal here and watch her deal with that.
When I finally got home, I performed yet another PT(blood clotting time) test on myself as I went from Harley to the wheely. No big deal. I'd feel completely nakey if I didn't have at least several cuts and bruises.
And for my next trick, I think it's time to change into something more comfortable and do the dishes, make something to eat, and get my feet up.
Hell's bells! It's 92 degrees out there! Just saying; not complaining. It's nice and comfy in here.
Things are moving very slowly, but, never the less, moving. The swelling in my legs from the DVTs is finally gone, as are 5 more kilos. I acrually managed to break the 90 kilo mark and get to a solid 98 kilo, which is far from being svelt, but is firmly out of all the BMI overweight categories. I have to admit that I celebrated with a Big Mac and a small iceream cone. Not exactly items high on me new diet list...but, hey, it was a celebration and I don't get to do that very often. I pretty much stick with my veg and fruit regime and break it up maybe twice a week with some meat, chicken or fish. It's kind of nice that due to the mess in my stomach I don't get hungry very often.
The really big news is that we found a pain killer that acrually works. The one the doc from Rambam suggested was worse than not taking anything, so my doc at the clinic gave me something else and it works. It works so well that after popping one at the clinic pharmacy, the pain was gone by the time I got home. And that night I slept from midnight until 0930, which was a first in I don't know how long. Of course, I went and over ate the next day and was up most of the night with a miserable stomach. Serves me right. Today I'm sticking to cukes and plums and maybe a few grapes. We'll see how the night goes. At least I'm not barfing now. I'd rather be up with a miserable stomach than barf.
I'm still trying to keep my feet up as the swelling does start again after I've been here for a few hours. In fact, it's time to get them up again. That's my excuse for not posting here as often as I'd like; and I'm sticking to it for as long as I can!
I guess it could really only happen to me! And, yes, I should have known better than to go to a demonstration in Jerusalem and go home on the same day. That only lead to more DVT fun and a week long hospitalization.
It was one of the lest pleasant hospital stays I've had to date. I studidly forgot to take my wheely cushion, which meant that I needed help to get up from the wheely. And I mean every time, including getting up from it to get into bed, go to the loo, and any other reason I had to go from sitting to sitting or lying on anything else. That was not pleasant.
The Clexane shots in the gut didn't start bothering me until I got home, and boy oh boy did it ever hurt. Still does a little. But, it's slowly getting better. Getting the shots is no big deal. They don't hurt at the time at all. But, then, shots and I are old friends and needles don't bother me in the least.
When I finally got home, I started to feel a lot better. No Place Like Home Syndrome. It's taken 5 days for the DVT caused swelling in both legs to finally go down. I stayed in bed most of the time, only coming to the computer when I had to get up to pee, and then, I only ripped through e mail at warp speed.
Today I am feeling much better in general. I went to sleep very late, then was woken up by a call from Dem Der at noon which I wasn't quick enough to answer. Then, I got a text from him, to which I replied "Thanks for waking me up. NOT." I promptly went back to sleep and woke up at 1715, with much less swelling and almost no pain in my feet. This is good.
They've got me back on coumadin and so far so good. Two of the factors that caused all the trouble before are gone, so, I'm hopeful that this time it will be ok.
The down side is that long trips are pretty much out the question for now. But that's ok because at this point I really don't feel like going anywhere farther from home than the clinic.
It's demonstration saeson again. That's just fine with me. There was a demonstration in Jerusalem against the insanity the Health Ministry puts us through to get the transport allowance and other things.
I put myself in the car at 0700 and headed out to Jerusalem with NIS 200 worth of gas in the tank. I knew it would be iffy on the way home.
At least it was pleasent weather wise there. It was an 'exclusive' demonstration. There were more than few who were not invited. Ok. I wasn't exactly invited, but they were more than happy that I came.
I really don't know my way around Jerusalem, but somehow I managed to find the demonstration easily. We were outside the Bank Of Israel entrance and one of the guys had a bull horn that could be heard all the way over to the Prime inister's office. We made lots of noise and the TV stations were all there.
At around 1530 we decided to pack it up. We are going to have an even bigger one next week if things don't start moving.
I managed to find my own way out of Jerusalem, and was concerned that I'd run out of gas. Silly me. I still have a quarter tank. I'm not sure what time I got home. I had to call Golan to help me get out of the car. Both my feet were swollen. In fact, I had to stop a few times to loosen the velcro straps on my sandals.
I pretty much fell into bed and slept right through until morning. I did a few errands that I wanted to get out of the way before today. Another endoscope at Rambam hospital. When I got home after the errands, I put my poor feet up and dropped off to sleep. When I woke up, my right shoulder was screaming in pain. I must have slept on it the wrong way. I haven't had pain like that since I don't remember when. I kept trying to drink water because I knew I was dehydrated. I don't know how I fell asleep so quickly last night, but I woke up this morning without that pain. It's just a mild ache now. I can live with it. I think I'll let Golan drive to Haifa today. I'm still not 100%.
I'm going to finish this post with a survey question. Does anyone want me to post a picture of me after the weight loss? I'm not promising I'll post it, just asking if anyone wants to see it.
It's official. I have gone from 120 kilos to 93 since March. I don't recommend the method, but I'm not complaining. Rather the opposite! On Sunday I decided to get my leg shot with the wonderful cocktail of painkillers my ortho guy mixes up for me. I called him to see if he'd do it on Monday as I had that appointment with the gastro folks at Rambam hospital on Tuesday. He happily agreed and even sent the prescription for the cocktail by fax to my clinic so I could come with it and save time. I left early and managed to miss getting stuck in the construction traffic and got there in good time. Thing was, some brilliant Israeli driver parked his car just close enough over the line of the cripple parking space that I could have gotten the car in, but not have had enough room to get myself out. Not having the phone number of the clinic, but only the doc's, I called him and he came out to sort things. What a sweety. After a short visit, he shot my leg and I did my cripple ballet excercises to get the stuff moving.When I went back to the car, I called my friend Shani who lives very close to the clinic, and invited myself over. She's always begging me to visit. We had a lot of fun together in Rambam where we were in the same room. She already had another friend visiting her so she sent him to lead me to her house. We had a lovely laugh filled visit. Another gal arrived a while later. She had visited Shani evrey day at Rambam, so it was like old time week, until the neighbor from upstairs arrived and started talking. She just rattled on without stopping about what the cripple groups should have done. I went a little ballistic on her and asked if she wanted to stay stuck in shoulda coulda woulda, or hear what's realling going why and why things move so slowly. You can't go back and fix things like that from when they should have been done. In order to get things moving in the right direction, you have to start from now and build a solid base. There was a lot of yelling because she really doesn't listen to what anyone else says. She's so wrapped up in her stuff. It was kind of fun and I did get through to Shani. I left much later than I'd planned and the second friend lead me straight to the spot I needed to find my way to get home. I got home, with a totally pain free leg, confirmed with Dem Der for the trip to to gastro the next day and promptly fell asleep until 0600.I again had the best luck. Just as I was starting to take all my 'just in case they keep me in' stuff out to the car, Golan appeared. He shlepped it all out for me and drove Harley back to his place on the ramp after I got in the car. I met up with Dem Der and a friend of his he'd asked if I could take along to the train station in Haifa,as we go right by it. At some point along the way, Dem Der started in on the pretty much the same cripple stuff I dealt with the night before and I just wasn't in the mood. I asked him to drop the subject, but he just kept going on. I lost it and at a stop light where two cops were hanging out told him to either leave it or get out. Ok, he might be right that all those things should have been done, but they weren't and they won't get done overnight. Just let me have some peace an quiet to drive without getting into it all again. He finally shut up and all was well. We ended up in the worst taffic snarl I have ever seen at the hospital car park, but again got lucky and the attendent sorted a space for me right at the entrance to the building. We found the right place in good time and the doc took me as close to on time as you can get in this country. I liked him immediately. It took him about half a second to realize that I am not your every day garden vegetable Israeli patient who treats docs like gods. My answer to his question about the illnesses I suffer from probably tipped him off. I told him that I'm not really sick, I'm just a bunch of broken parts they don't keep spares for in the wharehouse! I also told him about the medical experiment I did on myself the previous night. I figured out a way to get the good folks at KFC to bring an order out to me, figuring that if it stayed down, the barf from that morning could be considered a fluke. It worked! After more questioning and finding out that I've been on NSAIDs for 10 years, he came to the conclusion that I most likely have a peptic ulcer caused by the NSAIDs and agravated by coumadin. He said to quit taking the NSAID, and come in for another edoscope in two weeks, and upped the Losec dosage. Sounds good to me, so I am now quite calm about the gut crap I've been through. It was good for something. I've gone from 120 kilos to 93. Not bad at all! After the appointment, Dem Der and I went to a MacDonald's on the way to his place to get his laundry to take to the guy who does it for him. After we left off the laundry I dropped him at a bus stop and came home. I barely had time to send two emails ad phone him and Shani that I got safely home before I just fell asleep.
Then, along rolled yesterday. I took all stuff from the Rambam doc to my doc at the clinic and he wrote out the scripts for the non NSAID he recommened and the new dose of Losec. After that I went to the agency I get my cleaning lady through, to pay for last month, and was told that she would be here between 1300 and 1400. I got in after a quick swing through the grocery store to pick up the ingredients for a cheese pie, at 1230. She never showed up. Damn and double triple damn.
Good old Peg wasn't as lucky with the KFC I foolishly let him have and he squitted all over again. This time I decided to clean it up while it was still wet. I got a wad of paper towels and toilet paper and bent down from the wheely to start mopping it up. I was so suprized that I could bend to floor that I almost fell face first into the mess! But I managed a last minute save and got the whole mess all nice and clean.
And that brings us to day. I went to the clinic to weigh myself. Wowsers! I've lost almost 62 lbs! I left the clinic grinning lile a mad woman and headed for the industrial area to get yet another Harley lock. On the way I saw a truck full of cute young men putting up flags(among them purple ones) for tonight's 60 years founding of Qiryat Shmonah celebration. I just had to stop and ask for a purple one. And they gave me one! They even used those plastic handcuff thingies so it wouldn't blow off. They were so sweet.
They were just pulling into the stadium car park when I was on the way home and they all hi fived me and waved Then I went to my favorite kitchen stuff store and got two pretty pots(with pretty purple flowers, duh) with the kind of handles I prefer, and new knife. When I got here, I called Golan to see if he was in the area and asked him to come and take a few pictures of the flag draped Harley. He did and even came in and sorted some water bottles right into the freezer so I'll have a supply at hand for the week. Oh, yes indeed. It sure can be fun being me, and screw anyone who has a problem with it!
Right! It only took an hour and a half, but I can once again see the bottom of my sink (what's left of it). Before and after pictures fot your viewing pleasure.You might not be able to see much of a difference because what's left of the counter has so much stuff on it, but, I sure can.
Anyone want to play Find the Differences?
Yes, I really did want to go on that trip to Jerusalem. There were several reasons I wanted to go. The other four of The Five were all going and we usually have fun just being together, and it was the first anniversary of the trip to Jerusalem on our scooters and my burn! I also really wanted to go back to the Israel Museum. I was there years ago and have wanted to go back ever since.
So, I decided to go and block out the kids as much as possible.
We were supposed to leave at 0800 from the Community Center. We were all there on time, but the freaking bus was half an hour late. It takes time to get all the wheelies onto the bus, so we left almost an hour late, and got to the museum an hour later than planned. While we were looking at one of the exhibits, the gals in charge got a call from the restaurant that said that we have to hurry up. That put an end to seeing any more of the museum. I was so furious with the restaurant that I refused to eat there. As it turned out there was no real reason to hurry.
Our next stop was Mini Israel, which is a miniature of pretty much the whole country. I had absolutely no intersest in seeing that, as I've seen most of it in the original. I stayed behind while the others went off look around. I used the little crippled ladies room and had a lunch of an Ice cream cone. I was perfectly happy watching the people who came in. At least there was no time pressure there and I could people watch to my heart's content.
We finally left at around 2000 and got back to the Community Center at 2300 or so. The kids were restless on the way home. They had actually been pretty good up until then. The one who did manage to annoy me was Savta's wife. She is the Jewish equvalent of a born again Christian and is always talking about it and what we are supposed to do and why. She spent hours telling the gals in the seat across the aisle what to do. It drove me feaking wild and she is now known to me as The Missionary, which is the epitome of rude as Judaism does not have missionaries. She started on me at one point, but I managed to escape without insulting her too badly. On the way home she started playing some very loud religious type music on an I Pod or something. I was on the verge of shoving it down her throat when she turned it off. I just wanted a little quiet to rest. If it wasn't her and that music, it was the kids whining "When will we be home?"
So, yes, I should stuck to my guns and noy gone. I spent the day yesterday mostly sleeping.
My sink issue has been somewhat resolved. Resolved enough that I can do the dishes until they come to change the counter and sink. I'll get started on the dishes later.Maybe.
Sometimes I can't help but wonder why I do stupid things. Take today. I actually had a fairly good night's sleep and woke up at a reasonable hour, got through my morning routine and went out to get fags and something to cook for today and tomorrow. I wasn't sure what I wanted, but when I saw nice big juicy turkey tits in the butcher's shop I decided that my internationally unknown turkey tit salad was just thing. I got the meat, and rolled into the supermarket for celery (I discovered at home that the celery was in fact lettuce-oops) and scallions, then, I picked up the local papers and came home to make that salad. I hate working in a kitchen that has undone dishes and stuff in the sink, so I positioned my kitchen chair just the way I like it and turned on the water. I was less than pleased when it drained out of the pipes onto my feet and the floor. It being Friday, there was nothing to do and I wasn't about to start messing around with the pipes myself, so I ended up making my turkey tit salad with unwashed dishes and my feet in a wading pool. I got the salad all made, and ready to go into the fridge. As I opened the fridge door I remembered that a friend had written this morning that the mammogram she had yesterday was like closing herself in a fridge door. While trying to control my mirth, I promptly closed the fridge door on my face. OUCH.7 hours later my face is still sore.
It's a well known fact that I destest children, especially those of most of the parents in my neighborhood. Yesterday there was a meeting of those of us who are active in the accessibility for gimps group. During the second half of the meeting, after the 'out of towners' left, the locals stayed behind to go over a few more issues. A subsidised trip to Jerusalem has been organized for us, those who participate in the accessibility group. Turns out that two sets of parents want to take their kids along. After much discussion, they were given permission to take the kids. The person in charge of the trip brought it up in oreder to 'warn' the rest of us that there would be kids coming along. Me, being me, said very calmly that if THOSE kids are going I'm not. End of story, except that Lilach said that that was all she needed to not allow the kids to go. She said in no uncertain terms that the trip was arranged for us, and that if having kids along caused even one of us not to go, the kids were out. So, I guess I'm going.
I'm very sorry, but the mere thought of being stuck with those kids for a whole day just makes me sick.
I ended up going to Safad to pick up the money Dem Der owes on his phone bill. It's also a good idea to take the car for a jaunt. I put the phones with car keys at the foot of the bed, along with a pack of fags, my glasses from their spot by the TV, my bag of holding from it's hook, and picked up the phones and bag of holding, and out I went. Getting into the car is a well tuned ritual. I have to pull up to my gimp parking space sign pole so the rear wheel of Harley is almost touching it, pull up the snake lock, open it and run it through a rear wheel. Then I get up, open the car, toss the bag and phones in, and start the car. Then, I get the fags out of the bag and put them in a little pouch on the sun visor. I was not pleased to discover that the fags were nowhere to be found and figured that I'd just left on the bed. There was no one around I could ask to go in and get them, and I really didb't feel like going through the whole get out of the car (the same as getting in except in reverse order), and getting back in again, so I decided to go without. I had told Dem Der that I'd be leaving in half an hour before I did leave. He called to ask where I was and I told him. I also asked him to try and bum a few fags for me for the drive home. He also told me that he was waiting for the bus to take him to the market not far from his house. I told him I'd pick him up there. So far so good. Then he called to say that he hadn't been able to bum any fags, but he'd buy me a pack, what kind did I want? The cheapest, was the answer. By the time he called for 4th time to verify the brand, I'd had it. It's not exactly rocket sience. When some who asks to bum smokes says the cheapest brand, it should be obvious that she means exactly that. I do not like talking on the phone while driving even though all I have to do is hit on it's head(the phone) and listen and talk. It's still enough to feel that you are not paying 100 percent attention to the road. And a major part of that road is under construction, or, destruction. It's hard to tell. So he got a blast and I hung up. What I want to know is; why does it take me so long to learn? Poor Dem Der just wants to get it right, and will drive the strongest amongst us to self commitment to the local funny farm in the process. He just about drove me wild a while back at KFC. I told him exactly what to get, and they guy kept making suggestions and he'd run back to car to ask. I finally just told him again what I wanted and nothing else would do and to quit running back to check. He did the same thing one day when staying here under the alias of Homeless and he was making spaghetti. Do you want this, or that in it? Ok, I do understand that he means well and just wants to please. But there are limits. He's a good friend, and I appreciate his willingness to do things. It's just the obssesive attention to detail is way OTT. I hope I've learned my lesson this time.
I found a great way to fake myself and save on a/c use. I found a screen saver of a snow storm, complete with sound effects. The first time it came up, I was in the kitchen washing dishes. I stopped for a minute to try and figure out if I was finally losing my mind because I heard a snow storm and I new it was over 80 degrees outside. Then I saw the screen saver and knew I had a winner. I've gotten through two whole nights without the a/c.
It's been a busy few weeks, to put it mildly. Trips to and from the clinic, and scattered meetings with the head honchos of the major gimp group in the country. Yes, indeed, the very one that I've refused to join ever since they hooked up with the Union. They've been up here a few times to talk with us, and we found out that some things we suspected were indeed true. Oh, well. It really doesn't matter at this stage as long as we learn from it. During one of the meetings, I threw an idea to the chairman, and when he came back two weeks later, he said that he is trying to put it together. It's not exactly a brand new idea, but more of a clarification of an older one. He wants credit for it? Fine. I know where it came from and so do the other four.
We've been having more frequent meetings of The Five, which is very good. Yesterday we all met at Hezi's house in the morning. Most evenings we are either at Moshe's or Alberto's. I enjoy the evening meeetings more as they are more social. The meeting at Hezi's was more formal and Moshe and Savta got into it so that no one else could get a word in edge wise. That is most annoying, and has to stop. One thing we all do agree on is that we have to get moving on a few things locally and stop waiting for our nominal hand holders to do anything. We have to do it ourselves because no one else will.
I finally got an appointment at the gastro clinic at Rambam Hospital in Haifa for Aug 11. Maybe they'll figure out what is wrong with me (aside from the usual sanity issues!)
I am now going to pay for my own stupidity. I woke up at 0700 to go to the loo and went back to sleep. The phone woke me up just after 1000, and Peg had squitted all over the living room floor. I really could have let him out, then, gone back sleep. Now I get to wash the whole mess up all by myself.
I'll try to be as delicate as I can. While in hospital in Tiberius, the docs decided that I am constipated because I don't 'go' every day. My definition of constipated is not being able to go when you feel you have to. I remember clearly, my Uncle Doctor Kiddy Quack, aka, Uncle Maury, or The Yankee Clipper (he did circumscisions) telling my mother not to worry if us kids don't go every day, that what went in, will come out, and that that is one nuerotic obsession we don't need.
Right. So, while I've never gon every day, I can not remember a time when I had to go, but couldn't. Since March, things have been well and truly messed up in that department. Every single thing I ate came right back up, so nothing was getting through to make me go. Then I had the great shite bomb squits. Until yesterday, I was pretty much back to normal. I woke up feeling like I had to go. My morning coffee intensified that feeling, so I parked myself in the loo and waited. Nothing. Not a damn thing. I was up and down all day, had several coffees in the hope that they'd get things moving in the right direction. Nothing. I ended up staying in all day, just in case.
Things started off the same way today. While I was sitting there, it finally struck me that I was suffering from pschosomatic constipation, thanks to the docs in Tiberius. They put the idea in my head and my guts adopted it! So, I thought to myself, let's see if I can fake out my body. I got up and mixed up a glass of psyllium(Metamucil) and drank it right down and chased it with more water. It worked! I was out of the loo and off the bog in no time. I told my doc at the clinic about it and he had a good laugh over it with me.
I am quite pleased with myself
It looks like I've finally learned my lesson. Tomorrow I go back to the hospital in Tiberius for yet another endoscopy. After finding myself admitted to the hospital with pretty much only the clothes on my back, the last time, if they decide to admit me I'll be ready for them. The car has a full tank, and just for good measure I had it washed. I have my meds, a whole carton of cigarettes, baby butt wipes, water, clean jammies, cell phone charger and stuff to read. As I am ready for them, it remains to be seen if they are ready for me. The way I figure it, if they want to hack and wack, I'll be staying, if they don't.......I get to come home. I vote for the latter, but am ready for the former!
While out collecting the last few odds and sods that I need, I swung into the clinic to find out how much I weigh now. They always want to know at hospitals. The good news is that I'm down another 5 kilos. Only 15 to go to get down to 'normal'. I'm not sure I want to be normal, even if it is healthier. I hate normal and average. I just might try to hold things one kilo above normal, just for my peace of mind!
If it's not one thing, it's another. I went to the hospital in Tiberius for what should have been a routine endoscope. They couldn't do it because there was too much food left in my stomach to see anything. They sent me home with strict instructions for preparing for another one attempt on Sunday. I did everything they said, and more. This time they could see a little better even though there was still food in there. They decided that as there were signs of inflamation, edema and maybe something else (they took a biopsy) it was decided to send me upstairs to the surgical floor. Just what I didn't need. I kind of wasn't exactly ready for that. They gave me stuff that they thought might help get the stuff moving out of my stomach, and on Wednesday, after almost 4 days of fasting, sent me for a flouroscope. Still not empty. On Thursday they sent me home with strict instructions for yet another endoscope on July 3. This time I'm ready for them. I have a bag all ready just in case, with cell phone charger, fags, jammies, and a few other essentials. Being ready for them, they probably won't want to keep me.
The hospital in Tiberius is so much better than the one Safad that it's sacrelige to mention them in the same sentence. The staff is wonderful. The only bad part was no charger for the phone. Then I found out that one of the women in my room actually had one that fit my phone! I was back in business! As to fags, I bummed as many as I could and managed to get along that way. I was consoled by the fact that I wasn't the only one stuck without in the only hospital in the country that doesn't sell fags. So, here I am, back at home and running around like a mad woman with all kinds of gimp events to go to. I'm so busy that I didn't get around to looking at my burn until 0230 this morning.
The first picture is of the burn before treatment of any kind.
This is the burn after three months of treatment.
And this is the burn today. Almost all better.
Now all I have to do is put Eucerin on it several times a day. And the only things left to take care of are the hematological and gastro issues. I'm 99% convinced that Safad did my stomach in when they stuck that nose hose in to empty my stomach the last time I was there. Time and the hospital in Timerius will tell.
Holy Christmas trees in July! I have to get ready to go to another gimp even.
I was a very good girl and followed the pre test instructions for the gastroscope and started what should have been a 12 hour fast 20 hours ahead of time. We even got there a little early. So, the test should have been just fine, right? WRONG. They got me up on a bed and all arranged the way they wanted me, asked why this test now. I showed the doc the CT results and she gave me a strange look. Then she gave me a go to sleep shot, then woke me up to tell me that she couldn't do the test because there was too much food in my stomach, and we'd have to try it again. Ok. This time I get to fast for almost 48 hours. Just broth and water. I started things yesterday with some apple sauce, and plan to make some cabbage soup later today.
I now have the paperwork for the next attempt on Sunday. The only bad thing about that is that I will have to miss the big demonstration. The big mall in town where my clinic and bank are is rebuilding only heaven knows what and the main entrance is blocked to everyone. Not that we could ever be sure to get in that way. Anyway, they built a wooden ramp for us to use and everything was just fine. Some bright bulb at city hall decided that the ramp was dangerous and gave the mall two options. Remove the ramp or build a safe one. They removed the ramp and it's been over a week since we've been able to get to the bank (the one I use) and supermarket on the ground floor. We decided that if they don't solve our problem by end of business tomorrow, we will demondtrate and close off access to the mall for everyone. The owner has counter hreatened that he will not allow us in on our scooters. Oops. Our scooters are defined by law as electric wheelies, so if he tries to do that, we'll be able to get a court order to close the mall. It's all too insane. As I'll have to leave for the test at about the same time as the demonstration, I'll just have to miss it.
Yesterday morning there was meeting of the Access Kiryat Shmonah group at the community center to prepare for an even we've been working on for several months. Then, in the evening we had a meeting with the two top people from one of the larger gimp groups.
I must say that it was quite nice, when, after I introduced myself, the spokesman for the group added that I'd been active in all the big demonstrations. That was a very nice ego boost. We had a good meeting and they will be up here again soon for a day long meeting.
I had a private chat with the chairman and threw out a few ideas that might be helpful. We'll see.
This morning three of us decided to go to the police and get a license for Sunday's demonstration. That involved a lot of waiting around in the sun until everyone arrived. The relevant cop is now pressuring the mall owner to get a ramp sorted and if he doesn't by our deadline, we close the entrances to the mall on Sunday. Except that I won't be there. I'll be getting a tube stuck down my throat.
Like I don't know that I've neglected my blog. It's just that I really don't feel much like writing. This has not been a good two or three weeks.Strange things happened. Liat wrote that she and Adee would be over here, but didn't say when. Alberto built a new pergola and had a porch roof thing that is perfect for my ramp. So, how to get it over here? Who has a pick up? After a few minutes of hard thought the answer popped into my head and I rode over to Liat's parents and asked her father if he could bring it for me. I also asked when the girls were coming and almost fainted when he told me that they are here now, but not in town. So, the big question is what happened that they didn't tell me, I had to find out by accident? As they were coming back to town late Thursday, I made a midmorning appearance there. Adee still wants nothing to do with me. It doesn't help at all that everytime she looks my way, the other granny jumps in to distract her. It's so far from subtle that no one can miss it. I did ask Liat if she could find an hour for just the three of us to be together and she agreed, and said that she'd call.I ended up having to keep my foot up because it swelled up on account of the stairs I had to manuever at their house. In the end I only got to see Adee twice. The last time Liat did get her to let me give her a kiss. They had a double birthday party for Adee and another little girl. Of course I wasn't invited.I just don't get it. Ok. So, her parents pay for the tickets for them to come over, and they stay with them. They couldn't let me know they were coming? I had to find out by accident that they were already here?
Then, just for added interest, the CT results were a little strange and the doc at my clinic went ballistic and had the endoscope moved from August to today. It seems that whatever they saw on the CT could be nothing, or very very bad. At least I get the results today. One thing we do know is that I have kidney stones. No biggy at this point. They don't bother me at all.
The only good news is very very good. We finally stumbled on something that works on the burn. It's getting better by the day.
So, dear, three faithful readers,don't worry if I disapear for a while.
I was happily sitting on the edge of my bed yesterday morning when McGyver, (Alberto) yelled from outside for me to get my butt in gear, we have workd to do! Someone had called him to tell him that there was a scooter that needed rescuing. While I was getting dressed, he went to get to get Moshe to join the rescue party.
The scooter in question had broken down on the street behind his house, which is a good 20 minute scoot from here. Moshe loaded his tool box onto his scooter, and off we went. When we arrived, we were faced with the oldest scooter any of us had ever seen. After a quick check we realized that there was no hope that it would ever run again. McGyver called the owner and so informed him. We got his permission to take the batteries and charger, and any other parts we might want. The batteries were not new. Well, they were new in 2007. We removed them and transported them to Mc's house, where he got the charger running. We'll know later today if the batteries are salvagable.
When his kids got home from school we all had a lovely lunch of couscous. It was great fun to be back in business again.
Mc is getting a new van soon and offered me his wheely lift box contraption. We call them Gottliebs after the company that makes and installs them.
He is now trying to get the company to give me a better price to install it. It was given to him, and he is giving it to me. All I have to do is come up with enough money to have it installed. We could probably do it ourselves, but, it really is a better idea to get it done by experts. With any luck, we'll get it done next week. He, Moshe, Golan and I are planning on going together and making a day of it.
That Gottlieb will give me a whole new level of independence. The wheely now lives in the trunk and I simply can not manage it on my own any more. That means that I have to have someone go with me whenever I go to one of my out of town doctors, or any place else. With the Gottlieb, I'll be able to have the wheely come down and go back up from right next to the driver's door! Won't that be loverly?
Now we have the naked dog! Poor Pegasus hasn't had a bath or hair cut for at least two years. I made an appointment for him to get beautified today, and we just got back from the two things he hates most in the world. A car ride and bath/shave. The first thing we did when he came down all hairless was to go get him an ice cream cone at McDonald's, as promised. He scarfed it right down and is now recovering on the living room floor.
Before and after pictures.
They are the same dog! Golan had to help me get him in the car, and again, to get him out. He laughed at poor nakey Peg until I told Peg to just ignore him because he's jealous! At least now there won't be huge fur balls all over the house for a good long time, and he won't get mess stuck in his rear skirts.
I am feeling much better these days, but this little excursion kind of tired me out a little. Not that I had to much of anything except drive and wait, but, I'm still not quitte back to full strenhth. I'm getting there, but, still have a way to go.
I really don't know how it happened, but, for the first time in my adult life I made a stew that was edible. I've never managed to do that before, but, did make a pretty good one on Friday. Just a few chunks of beef, onions,garlic, carrots, potatoes, salt and pepper. It was quite good. Maybe for my next trick, I'll figure out how to cook rice! That will have to wait for a few days. I'm not up to the ultimate culinary challege quite yet.
I don't know what's wrong with my doctor. He almost killed me again. If I were the paranoid type, I'd think it was on purpose.
I'd been feeling really bad since March 2. The bout of food poisoning that started then was just a trigger for what came later. I kept trying to figure out what the problem was and finally realized that it was the rat poison Coumadin! I decided that enough was enough and got myself hauled off to hospital very late on Monday night. The ER doc stated that it could not possibly be the Coumadin, and the doc on the floor stated unequivacably that it was that I sometimes take a few of my meds without eating. Then, the blood work came back! It was indeed the Coumadin. So much for those two residents. The fun part came on Tuesa=day night when I got my revenge on that ward which was the very one that had treated me so badly when I had my stroke in 1998. This part is more than a little gross, but, I quite enjoyed it as it put a screeching halt to that stupid resident trying to send me home!I was hit by the most urgent need to get to the bog, but didn't quite make it. I managed to fill my jammy bottoms with a mess worthy of, well, me, and leave not a little of it on the floor. They washed me up and tucked me into a nice clean bed in another room. I had no sooner settled in when the urge struck again and I raced for the bog, again just seconds too late. There I sat, surrounded by a huge puddle of mess on the floor while I filled the bog to overflowing. Dem Der called to see how I was doing, and I had to ask him to the nurses to rescue me as I was flooded in. I so wish I had thought to take a picture of the nurse's face when he opened the door! He raced off to get three other nurses to get me out of there. My last view of the bathroom as they backed me out was truly insane. Who would have thought you could fill a toilet to overflowing? Well, I did. In fact it looked like someone had set off a poop bomb in there. It was everywhere. The toilet was not only full, it was coated on the outside as well, and the floor. The nurses got me cleaned up again and put me in a nice lilac colored Depends. I must say that it was a most satisfying revenge on those same people who were so mean in 1998. I did feel bad for the guy who had to clean it up. None of it was his fault.
That was when they decided that it was indeed the Coumadin and because there was some blood in the sample they sent off, it was decided to stick a tube down my throat to empty my stomach to see if there was any blood there which might indicate that idiot resident was right too. Not a drop. So much for her. They started giving something IV that would bring down the poisonous levels of the rat poison, and sent me off for an abdominal ultra sound, which showed a gall stone that had nothing to do with any of it.They srung me on Thursday afternoon with a whole list of things to do and not do, and tests to have as and when. Now, I'm happily at home and savoring the happy memories of getting my own back at those horrid people! Maybe the next time they'll take me a little more seriously when I tell them someting. That was just the highlight of the week. There were lots of little triumphs as well. But, I'm home now and feeling better. No more nausea and on Monday my doc and I will sit down and redo all my meds as they added three more to the list. But no more rat poison! And no more late night barfing after taking that blasted Coumadin.
On the bright side, the nausea has gone away. On the dark side, I just don't at all feel like eating. Eating doesn't upset my stomach any more, but it seems that a strange pain has moved into my gut under squatter's conditions. It's there all the time, just under the radar. Last night it felt like a huge snake slithering around. I wonder what that's about. I will take the issue to clinic on Sunday.
The really good news is that I've lost enough weight to be out of the obese category, and smack in the middle of the overweight one. Now all I have to do is lose enough to get into the normal category. That will be a day for celebration!
And just to make things interesting, the surgeon who looks at my burn evrey two weeks says it's gotten a little worse. That's just fine with me, because *I* know it's gotten a little better. It doesn't hurt like it used to and the itching of the surrounding area has prett much stopped. I wonder if that has anything to do with the new band aid type dressing I'm using coupled with being back in sandals because things have warmed up just enough to stop wearing those heavy winter sock slippers. Time will tell. I'm just happy that it's less bothersome these days.
I don't remember ever being this sick before. It's getting better, but, I'm not quite there yet. It all started on March 2 when Golan and I went to Acre to see my ortho doc, and stopped on the way home to eat a restaurant that he highly recommended. Lamb addict that I am, I had a lamb shislik. It wasn't very good, so I didn't finish it. I took the left overs home for Peg and he gobbled them right down. Come morning we both had the squits and by evening I had developed the worst case of nausea imaginable. All nught long I did sit ups from my semi reclining sleeping position to release the most unbelievable burps ever. Finally, at around, 0300, I managed to throw up. The next day, the very thought of food made me ill. This ritual went on for two weeks, and I have lost a lot of weight. This is good. One Thursday, I finally cried "Uncle", and went to the gastro guy at the clinic. He listened to my tale of woe and barf, then told me he was going to prescribe a pill that should get things moving in the right direction. He said that all the barfing might have reversed the natural downward route of food so that instead of continueing downward, it just came right back up. That made a kind of twisted sense to me as being something my body would do to me. I started taking the pills Thursday night, and they didn't work at all. Being the stubborn gimp that I am, I kept on with them Friday morning,and through Saturday and kept down a youghurt. I am cautiously optimistic about this, but still don't feel like eating anything. I know I have to, but don't want to. Never mind that there's nothing in the house to eat. I have to plan meals with these pills. I'm supposed to eat 45 minutes after taking the pill. I'm rying to work out a schedule of things to eat, that I can turn into a grocery shopping list. I'm still a little weak, but have to go grocery shopping soon.
So, if my three faithful readers have been wondering where I've been; I've been in bed. I'm back now.
Political correctness can be taken to lengths never before dreamed of by the least likely organizations. The United States Figure Skating Association is now giving out four medals instead of the traditional three; Gold, Silver, Bronze and now Pewter. What will they do next? Start giving out medals according the wedding anniversary list in reverse order?
This has been an incredible two months for me. I got to watch the European Figure Skating Champonships, the American ones and the Jr. World's. The American was on the same week as the European, but wasn't shown here until last week. It was fantastic to get a good picture of who will be competing in the World's next month. Seeing the Jrs was a rare treat because the Jrs are not usually broadcast at all.
WAtching the Srs on both Eurosport and ESPN so close together served to emphasize the difference in commentating skills between the ones on each network. ESPN usually has big name winners from the past commentating. Eurosports has has ex medalists and some are even coaches today. They are, however, much better commentaters than the ESPN crew. They really are good and are positive about all the skaters. They have some great patter that makes listening to them seem more personal somehow. It truly is a night and day difference. I'm glad that we will get World's through Eurosport. They make it ever so much more pleasant.
After watching the Europeans I wondered if the Americans would have anyone to give them a fight because they were fantastically good. Then, I got to see the Americans while the Europeans were still fresh in my mind. Worl's is going to be a breathtaking battle in most of the competitions. I can't wait for the miracle of TV to transport me to Los Angeles for the 2009 World Figure Skating Competition. Thank you Eurosport.
It hit me the other day that things have really changed in my outlook since the first days, weeks, and months after my stroke in 1998.
One of the first things I did after getting my first scooter was to get a proper mobile phone. I remember wondering if I would even live long enough to get to the end of the 36 month commitment period. I also remember wondering every time I made any kind of plans whether I'd still be around to carry them out. Having made it this far, 11 years post stroke, and almost 4 after the heart attack, I've gradually stopped wondering about making plans or thinking about making them for more than a month in advance. Don't get me wrong. I'm not taking anything for granted. I am perfectly well aware that I might not wake up on any given morning, and do give heart felt thanks when I do wake up. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love my life. Being a gimp is better than not being. I wonder if that has anything to do with not having any expectations. I just somehow seem to charge ahead and deal with things as they come up. Living my life is a little like following a soap opera every day for 57 years. I always want to know what will happen next and how things will resolve themselves. I guess it would be fair to say that I am my own daytime soap opera.
Quirky? Did someone call me quirky?
