"And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died ..."

It's Wednesday already? How did that happen?

Friday was my 47th (ACK!) birthday, and I milked it for the whole weekend. Michael and Patti came to visit on Friday night, and left on Sunday. Always love the time we spend with them. Michael whooped our butts in a game of Uno on Saturday night. We played a new variation: When you play a 7, you get to choose another player to switch hands with. When you play a 1, everyone passes the hand they have to the player next to them. That can really change the whole damn thing! (I was the big loser.)

For my birthday, I got sweet cards from the Sisters, Emilie gave me a Lane Bryant gift card, Jimmy gave me The Soprano's Family Cookbook, another book full of pictures and trivia about The Sopranos, and a Finding Nemo DVD, Adam and Brandy sent me a really pretty card and then gave me a Chicago DVD and a book I've been wanting, The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd. Mother sent me money, as she always does ... (Every time she does that, I tell her, "You just gave away another half a day in assisted living!") Adam and Brandy took us out to Macaroni Grill on Sunday night, and you know I had the Pasta Milano. And Jimmy gave me a bakery birthday cake with my name on it ... the first one I've EVER had. (My sister Laura and I are the only two people in the world who actually PREFER the icing used on cakes like that.) I was so happy to see that cake, knowing that next year I won't be eating sugar. I enjoyed that lard and sugar more than you know.

When you add all those nice gifts with the sweet attention AND a visit from Michael and Patti, you can see why my birthday weekend was so nice. Thanks so much, all of you!

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Grandma F was not in good shape yesterday. She was getting her THIRD new roommate when I arrived around 5 PM. This lady has bad Alzheimer's, and was coming to Dogwood Acres from home, her daughter no longer able to care for her. I think they told me she's been taking care of her Mom for over 15 years. The lady's name is Louise, and her husband came in to see her ... he's in a wheelchair. She had several family members in and out, so I stayed until after 8:00, just to make sure Grandma didn't get upset with all the noise and commotion. Louise mumbles ... almost as bad as the former roommate who passed away. But I did hear several "Goddamn"s and "You bastard"s in her mumbling. Every time, her family would have a fit, telling her to hush. They seem like really nice people. The daughter, Mary, was having a really hard time leaving her Mom. I can't say that I blame her.

Anyway, back to Grandma ... she's not eating much at all. And last night, there was NO talking. She seemed exhausted after eating a few bites of applesauce. Her breathing was so rapid and shallow, I finally asked the nurse to give her a dose of the morphine that hospice prescribed to slow her breathing down a little. She took the smallest dose prescribed, and I never really saw a difference while I was there. One of my favorite CNA's (Jemeena) was assigned to Grandma last night, and she promised me she'd watch her breathing.

I'm really hoping Louise doesn't upset her, and that Louise stays put on her side of the room.

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On Monday, I had my 2nd Group Session at Dr. Bour's. Enjoyed it a lot, and got to meet a sweet lady who's actually having her surgery as I type this.

Then yesterday I had my psychologist appointment. Dr. Russell is a very nice guy. We went over my test results ... he had a paper describing me perfectly, based on those test answers I gave about a month ago. It was surprising how well he was able to tell "who I am". He said he would have normally given me a "yellow light", meaning I'd have to wait to have my paperwork submitted until I had three weeks on an anti-depressant, based on the fact that I am dealing with depression. But since I saw Dr. Bour on March 6th, and started on Lexapro on that date, Dr. Russell said he'd give me the "green light". I am beginning to notice an even keel with my moods since starting the drug. They say it takes longer than 3 weeks to notice a real difference, but I really do feel a change already.

Dr. Russell asked several questions of me ... the one that I remember most clearly: "How are you prepared to deal with the possible complications or even death from this surgery?" I told him that I believe we all go when it's our time to go. I also said that I had faith in Dr. Bour and his skill as a surgeon ... and, in the past, I have always done really well with surgeries. But the main reason I have peace with my choice is this: My quality of life and life expectancy is going nowhere but down if I DON'T have this surgery. I have no doubt of that.

As I was leaving, I stopped to ask the receptionist about how long I might expect to wait to hear from my insurance company. She went to ask Kim, and Kim's answer was "4 to 6 weeks". I hated to hear that. Hopefully, that was Kim's worst case scenario answer.

But I guess I have no choice now ... the wait begins. You know you'll be the first to know if I hear anything.

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On this day 12 years ago, I was forced to say a last goodbye to my Dad. He was in a hospital CCU bed, attached to a million wires and he even had a tube in the side of his neck ... it had been a rough couple of days for him. He had a heart attack at home the day before, and had several more after an ambulance took him to the hospital. The doctor explained that they could keep reviving him, but his heart was so damaged by his lung disease that his quality of life would really be terrible, if he even made it out of the hospital. We were given the awful choice to make ... and we decided to tell the doctors to stop bringing him back. With the next heart attack, the nurse came to get us (my mother and my sisters and me), and we were able to be with him as he left. Most assuredly a moment in time I will never forget.

Daddy had COPD -- Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease -- a gift given to him from all those years of cigarette smoking. He was offically diagnosed with it around 1979. For 15 years, it progressed ... stealing much of his joy for life and his incredible sense of humor. He stopped going to church, since he could no longer sing in the choir. He had a beautiful baritone voice ... before he got sick, he enjoyed singing in Barbershop Quartets. Hell, he'd still sing for us every chance he got, even after he lost his ability to sing in public.

He cherished his family, of that I have no doubt. He was proud of his daughters, even though none of us ever really did a damn thing to be proud of. And as much as he loved and adored his daughters, that pride was magnified a hundred times over again when his grandchildren were born. Adam got first honors ... everything the child did was a miracle in his Grandpa's eyes. I still have a tiny t-shirt my Dad had made for Adam ... it says "Precious and Little". That was Daddy's nickname for Adam, even before he was born. (It got changed to "A'm" after Emilie came along, and pronounced Adam without the middle letters.) Josh was born to Sister Kay next, and Daddy always called him "Joshua D". 5 months later, Emilie arrived ... and Grandpa called her "Emonie", since that's how 2-year-old Adam prounounced his sister's name. Finally Beth was born ... "BeffieLou" to her Grandpa. I hope all four of them realize how important and incredibly special they were to him.

He loved Miller Genuine Draft, classical music, Car Talk with Click and Clack and A Prairie Home Companion on NPR, Jim Beam on ice, America's Funniest Home Videos, "Stuff", carrot cake, oak trees, birds, and iced tea with lemon. He loved to tinker on anything. He loved to take naps ("I'm going to rest my eyes for a little while.") He loved to read. He loved marching bands. (He played the trombone.) He loved his brothers back in Minnesota. He loved me.

Sometimes I see him in my dreams at night ... those are my favorite dreams. It blows my mind to consider the fact that I haven't seen his face or heard his voice in 12 long years. I miss his silly, dry dry dry humor. I miss the letters he would write to me after we moved to South Carolina, always stuffed with a week's worth of "Calvin and Hobbes" and "The Far Side" comic strip clippings from his newspaper. I miss his old junker truck, with the Ah-oooo-ga horn that mortified my mother. I miss his rainbow suspenders. I miss the feel of his big hugs. I miss him at Christmas, when he would open his gifts with his pocketknife, and then ALWAYS exclaim, "Awwww you shouldn't have!" I miss Daddy.

My Grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn of the day he was born,
It was always his treasure and pride,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.

"I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while ..."

I'd claim to have Writer's Block if I was a writer.

The days are all the same ... nothing to distingush a Monday from a Thursday. Laundry, driving over to see about Grandma F, checking my e-mail, cooking dinner, reading about gastric bypass, procrastinating over cleaning the house -- that's every single day for me.

Bleh.

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This week I was absolutely stunned and shocked to learn that Sister Kay's life was, once again, in chaos after a giant tree landed in her bedroom. On Monday night, Columbus GA had some fierce winds during a storm, and for the 2nd time in less than a year, Kay's house has been severely damaged by a falling tree. This one actually came through the roof. Major damage was done to her bedroom, and Beth's room took a bad hit, as well. Now she has learned she will have to move into an apartment for a few months while the repairs are made. Daddy always used to tell Laura and me that we should be kinder to our sister ... "She has a full plate and no fork", he'd say. I'm thinking Daddy was right.

Hang in there, Kaydee. Brighter days are surely ahead for you.

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Grandma F was in her wheelchair at lunchtime yesterday. She ate practically nothing, saying her tummy was upset. When she asked to go back to bed, I was saddened to see that she could barely move herself. Getting her 99 pounds out of the wheelchair was impossible for her to do by herself. Looks like she has lost a lot of strength and mobility during this last bout of pnuemonia. She seemed more fatigued than usual yesterday, too.

"That's just who I am this week ..."

Happy Spring. Don't mind the sleet. Ugh.

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Grandma F got a new roommate over the weekend. She was there on Saturday when Jimmy and I visited. Her family is a bit loud, but she is a very sick lady. She's only 76 years old, but has some kind of cancer. I think she came to Dogwood Acres from the hospital. She was a little grumpy when she thought I worked there, but when I introduced myself to her, she warmed up a bit. She seems to be in pain. When I was in there on Sunday, it wasn't long before an ambulance came to take her back to the hospital. I overheard them saying that one of her drains in her belly was "pouring out fluid". Poor thing.

So Grandma is alone in the room again. She asked for crushed ice yesterday, which she ate with a spoon. She said it was the best ice ever.

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Jimmy started on the taxes yesterday ... not finished yet, I guess. He had 3 of our trees cut down on Friday, and many more trimmed up. Now he'll have to work for days getting the logs split into firewood. At least we'll be prepared for next winter's storms. Or today's sleet, whatever.

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I'm just marking time until next week, when I go back for another Group Session on Monday and FINALLY see the psychologist on Tuesday. Marking time, and reading everything I can find on the subject.

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"The Sopranos" ... I love it. It was so weird seeing Tony act so "non-Tony-like" in his coma dreams. And Carmela's anguish over the possiblity of losing Tony was breaking my heart in pieces. I swear, that show is so well done, it's like a mini-movie every week. Not your average TV show.

"Where, oh where, have the smart people gone? ...

The squirrels are having a Spring Break party on my roof this morning. At least, I hope it's on the roof, and not in the attic. Jimmy set the trap in the attic over the weekend, and put some delicious peanut butter sandwiches in there to lure a critter or two. Our luck, they're eating them at their Spring Break party.

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Had lunch with Emilie yesterday, who was in town for a doctor's appointment. Always the best part of my day is seeing one of my kiddos. Yesterday was very, very good, because I got to see Adam too, as he came by after work to pick up boxes. They are sorting and packing for the Big Move on April 8th. Emilie pointed out that "8" seems to be a very good number for Adam and Brandy ... they will be moving to the new home six months to the day after their wedding day.

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I stayed with Grandma F while she ate dinner last night. She had a shower just before I got there. The CNA seemed to think she HAD to have one, and forced her to go. Grandma was not happy. After the CNA left the room, Grandma said, "She's NOT nice." She strikes me as one of those CNA's that's rough and unfriendly when no one else is around, but as soon as I come into the room, she's all about being sweet to Grandma. I told Grandma that I could tell the CNA wasn't nice, but at least she was clean and comfy in her bed for the night.

She napped while I filed her nails. Dinner came ... BEETS!!! Oh glory. She ate them all, with most of her salmon patty, and a few bites of mashed potatoes. She traded the chocolate cake for a few bites of the Hershey bar I brought for her.

Jimmy is having a little battle with the powers-that-be over the non-thickened water issue. They had lawyers draw up a paper for him to sign, saying they weren't responsible for harm should she aspirate while drinking water given to her by family members. Meanwhile, every new LPN gives her plain water to take her meds with, and even last night ... the beets were floating in about half a cup of thin beet juice, and she tipped the bowl and drank every drop. The hospice nurse came in yesterday, and gave her water with crushed ice ... Grandma said it was wonderful.

Anyway, they wanted Grandma to sign the form too ... Jimmy explained that she will not even sign a greeting card. The social worker said, "What? Not even when you are there to tell her it's ok?" She then goes on to tell him that one of the doctors that came through to see Grandma had designated her mental state as "competent", so she will HAVE to sign the form. I'm thinking that's when Jimmy started having steam out his ears.

In the end, he requested a meeting with everyone present ... the doctor, hospice, the social worker, etc. I don't think he'll get it, because it involves God (the doctor) being there, but hopefully some better communication can start happening between all parties responsible for Grandma's care.

Grandma may be far less progressed in her dementia than most people in that facility ... but she is not competent to make important decisions. Period.

"It's a typical situation ..."

Cooler weather today. And windy.

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Yesterday, Grandma F was asleep, getting her breathing treatment when I arrived. As soon as the treatment was over, I turned the machine off, and slipped the mask off her face. She woke up, and I noticed she didn't have her teeth in. I asked her about them, and she had no idea they were out. She said she had no memory of anyone taking them out. I found them in the bathroom, soaking in some cleaner. I'm thinking the hospice CNA did it after lunch. Grandma was covered up so neatly and looked so nice, I have to think Tonya did that too.

The cough was frequent, and the rattling in her chest was louder yesterday too. She didn't have anywhere near the energy she had on Sunday. She asked for some cold water, and I had to watch carefully ... thinking she was about to doze off and spill the cup she was holding.

My worrying nature has kicked in, wondering who they will move into her room soon. Jimmy tells me to think positive, maybe it will be someone nice for Grandma to talk to. Just call me Negative Nelly, I think it'll be someone who's half-crazy and goes through Grandma's things and leaves a TV on full blast all day. (sigh)

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I enjoyed last night's support session very much. The guest speaker was a woman who had RNY gastric bypass almost 2 years ago. I can't remember her exact weight loss, but it was over 200 pounds. She's almost 50 years old, and is the principal at one of the larger elementary schools in Greenville. She spoke, and answered questions for over an hour. She looked beautiful. I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that she was the same person as in her "before" picture. She hadn't had any plastic surgery yet ... she said she wanted to have her arms done so that she would feel comfortable in sleeveless tops and dresses. Her tummy looked so flat ... either her exercise routine worked wonders or she has found the perfect undergarments!

After she spoke, the psycholgist Dr. Russell talked for about 45 minutes on the topic of stress. This was my first contact with him, and I found him to be a soft-spoken and kind man. I liked him immediately.

There were about 30 people there --- men and women -- all at different stages of waiting for surgery. One girl, who was about my age, said she was nearing the end of the 6-month supervised diet that her insurance company required. She said she'd been coming to the pre-surgery sessions so long, that all the people she started with have now gone on to the post-surgery sessions. She asked what kind of insurance I had, and when I told her, she said, "Oh, you'll go through with no problem. Everybody that has that one gets a surgery date pretty quick!" I was happy to hear that again, but I told her that I was trying hard not to get my hopes up, in case there is a delay.

But after last night, my hopes are climbing pretty fast. I want this!

"When I get where I'm going, don't cry for me down here ..."

Grandma's roommate, Mrs. L, passed away early this morning.

When we walked in and saw the empty bed and the empty shelves ... what a sad, terrible feeling. Her son came in while we were there to get the rest of her clothes and things. Jimmy helped him get it all out to his car, and came back to tell me that Jan, her daughter, was in the car and wanted to see me. I got out there as fast as I could. She lifted her arms for a hug when she saw me, and we cried together. I told her what an incredible daughter I thought she was, for all the love and patient devotion she showed her Mom. I will miss my daily contact with her ... very much. I hope she'll recover from her surgery and go on to live the rest of her days knowing she did the very best for her Mother.

Rest in peace, Isabelle.

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Grandma, on the other hand, was doing SO much better today. I told Jimmy that I think she talked more today than she has in the entire 10 weeks she's been at Dogwood Acres. She laughed a lot, and talked on the phone to just about everybody. She asked Jimmy for some cold "REGULAR" water yesterday, and enjoyed it so much. She asked for another today. The CNA told us she couldn't give it to her, but we could. So we did. She sipped that baby for over an hour. She also ate a small cup of sherbet for a snack while we where there. She asked about how soon she could go and get her hair done! It was so wonderful to have a 2-way visit with her again ... she laughed and made jokes all afternoon. When she said hello to her friend Art on the phone, she said, "Well hello, Mister!" What an extreme change from only a week ago.

Tomorrow she wants me to bring her a new box of Kleenex, some Scope, some zinc oxide, and some Hershey bars. Sounds like Grandma F is feeling much better!

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I made a very simple shrimp scampi for dinner tonight ... now I'm the garlic breath queen. Tomorrow evening is my first group support session at Dr. Bour's!

Gonna go and take my shower now, so I will be ready and waiting at 9 PM to watch the final season premier of my man, Tony.

Y'all have a wonderful week.

"Three chords and the truth ..."

Spaghetti sauce is simmering on the stove for dinner. Y'all come.

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Grandma F seemed better to me today. Her voice is still quieter than I'm used to. She was starting lunch when I arrived today. She ate a little cornbread, some juice from her turnip greens, and some canned peaches. She refused to touch her macaroni and cheese.

Grandma's roommate is so very sick. It's humbling and awe-inspiring to sit in the quiet, darkened room ... I can almost feel Mrs. L leaving this world. Her daughter came by to see her Mom today, on her way home from the hospital. (She had her knee replaced on Monday.) Mrs. L isn't eating or drinking any more. I'm thinking it won't be long. She is 97 years old.

Today Grandma asked me, in her quiet quiet voice: "What was Michael was talking about ... drip drip drip, drip drip drip?" I had no clue. Michael?

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I am excited ... The 6th season of The Sopranos begins FINALLY on Sunday night. "Whuttaya gonna do?"

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Have a good weekend.

"We're falling apart to half time ... "

Nothing of substance to report here. Move along.

(Grandma F was quiet today. I realized I was having to ask her to repeat everything she was saying to me. Her voice was much subdued. Her hand strength is same as it ever was ... I lost all feeling in my left hand while she squeezed it.)

You Are a Peacemaker Soul

You strive to please others and compromise anyway you can. War or conflict bothers you, and you would do anything to keep the peace. You are a good mediator and a true negotiator. Sometimes you do too much, trying so hard to make people happy. While you keep the peace, you tend to be secretly judgmental. You lose respect for people who don't like to both give and take. On the flip side, you've got a great sense of humor and wit. You're always diplomatic and able to give good advice. Souls you are most compatible with: Warrior Soul, Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

"Dearly beloved, are you listening? ..."

I met with the nutritionist today. She outlined the diet I will follow for a few weeks before surgery, as well as what I'll be eating during the 6 months after surgery. She told me that more and detailed information will follow as I attend the classes and group sessions. She was easy to talk to, and very friendly. I have her e-mail address now, and was encouraged to use it to ask any food or exercise-related questions I might come up with.

Both the surgeon and the nutritionist encouraged me to use this time before surgery to start forming some of the habits I'll need afterwards. Things like ... walking every day. Again I'm wishing I had not sold my treadmill. Looks like I'll have to get up close and personal with the damned hills in my neighborhood. The nutritionist said, "This time next year, you'll be jogging up those hills!" That sounds like science fiction to me.

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Grandma F was resting when I spent time with her today. The hospice nurse came in to check her vitals while I was there. Grandma refused her at first, saying that she knew she was going to trick her into getting out of bed and down to the therapy room. After convincing Grandma to let the nurse do what she needed to do, I used that opportunity to get clarity on the whole therapy issue. I explained to the nurse how much anxiety and unhappiness the daily prospect of therapy brings to Grandma. The nurse immediately went and looked at her chart ... then came back in to tell Grandma that she would no longer be expected to go to therapy. I'll admit, I was hoping for whoops and hollers ... maybe a cartwheel, in celebration. I had to settle for Grandma closing her eyes and saying, "Good." Hopefully, that will ease the reluctance to cooperate with the nurses and CNA's, if she's not thinking they have ulterior motives.

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I was sad to hear of Dana Reeve's death today at age 44. Sadder still to think of the 13-year-old son she had to leave here, now without either parent. That was some fast-moving cancer.

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So how's your week going?

"Every day is a faded sign ..."

The Weekend:

Emilie was home for some rest and some pampering ... with a cough from hell, and fever too. She left for Clemson this morning, hopefully on her way to being well again.

Grandma F stayed pretty consistent. No big changes.

Michael left for home on Saturday afternoon. So nice to have him close by for a little while. We took it for granted when we lived in the same town for years. Foolish us.

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I had my appointment with Dr. Bour today. My blood pressure was high: 150/85. Might be because I had just been weighed. Ugh. Let's just say that my BMI is a little bit higher than I thought it was.

Dr. Bour was as warm and friendly as he appeared to be at the seminar. He gave me lots of time to ask questions, and gave lengthy, informative answers. He said that even though my gall bladder operation ended up being "open surgery", that was no indication that the bypass operation couldn't be laparoscopic. (No huge incison!)

He said that because our insurance has a "fast turnaround" -- meaning that approvals come fairly quickly -- my surgery might happen on a sooner, rather than later, date. I was started on Lexapro, the anti-depressant. He said he likes to have all his patients on some sort of anti-depressant before and for at least 6 months after the surgery. Most obese people do deal with depression, we all know I do. So I have no problem trying this medication again. I used Lexapro in late 2004, and was later switched to Wellbutrin when the Lexapro had no effect on the depression. I stopped the Wellbutrin about 9 months ago, when I thought I would rather handle the depression than deal with the weirded-out dreams I was having. Not to mention the funk-mouth I woke up with every day. (gag)

Dr. Bour said that my "letter of medical neccesity" would be written today, and ready to go off to the insurance company as soon as I had completed my appointments. I have an appointment tomorrow with the nutrionist, where I will learn about the Optifast program I will use for a few weeks before surgery ... as well as the after-surgery food plan. My appointment with the psychologist isn't until the end of March, and now I'm hoping that I'll get a call to move that one to an earlier date, the way it happened for today's visit with Dr. Bour.

I will have to have an EGD ... an upper endoscopy ... before surgery, to check for current ulcers, and to check for the certain type of bacteria that can cause ulcers after surgery (H. Pylori). I've been with Emilie and Brandy to the hospital while they went through the same procedure, so I already know there's nothing to be afraid of there. But Dr. Bour said it was likely that no additional tests would be required for me. Yay.

Overall, I think I have chosen the best surgeon I could have found for miles around. Pleased, I am.

"I loved deeper, and I spoke sweeter ..."

Today the Hospice nurse did her evaluation of Grandma F. She spoke of the pros and cons of having her on an IV. I learned some things I did not know. Things like, sick and elderly people like Grandma may start to need less fluid, and if the IV is pumping it in ... it tends to settle around the heart, or in the lungs. So constant IV fluid may not be a good thing. It could even cause congestive heart failure. The doctor had ordered 3 more bags, and she had finished the first one as we had this discussion. The nurse asked Grandma if she'd like to stop the IV's and get the needle out of her arm. Grandma said she thought it'd be a good idea to do what the doctor said, although she would be glad to get rid of the needle.

Final decision was that we would start the next bag, but if the needle came out, or there were any other problems with it, then we wouldn't stick her again. Turned out, that happened right away. When they got around to starting the 2nd bag, it wouldn't flow into the vein. They would have had to re-stick her, so the IV was stopped and her needle was removed.

The nurse also said we should use our own judgement and feelings as to whether we continue with the thickened liquids regimen. Grandma really dislikes that thickener, and I don't blame her. We understand she may aspirate some of what she drinks, but on the other hand, she's not drinking as much of the thickened stuff, so she risks dehydration. Plus, in the nurse's words ... we're talking about her comfort now, not so much curing what's wrong with her. When we asked Grandma if she'd like some regular water, she resisted ... saying "They wanted me to have thickened drinks." She's really wanting to follow the rules. We may try again later.

We visited at lunchtime and at dinnertime ... both meals were only 1/4 to 1/2 eaten. She's not talking much at all, and appears to be content to listen to us chat ... and sleep.

It's hard to think about having to say goodbye to such a "big" woman. She's frail, oh so frail ... less than 100 pounds. If you know her though, you understand why I refer to her as "big". I hope she realizes how much she's loved.

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I got a call from the bariatric clinic today, asking if I'd like to move my appointment with the surgeon from March 28 to Monday, March 6. I agreed, and now I'm nervous. He's a nice man, so I know that's silly. Still nervous though.

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Here's a fun thing I found on the Internet. Click this link and I can find out what you think about me, and how it compares to what *I* think about me. Come on, do it.

Hope you have a good weekend. :-)

"Song she brang to me ..."

Neil Diamond rulez, y'all. Did you know he released a CD a few months ago? Oh yeah, Cracklin' Rosie.

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(Patti, it surely feels weird to me to have Michael here without YOU. I miss you!)

Michael drove up today to spend some time with Grandma F. She had an OK day ... another IV came out this morning, but had to be replaced. The doctor saw her today, and wants another 3 bags of IV fluid in her. She ate a few bites of lunch, and about half of her dinner ... and she slept, and slept. Once, when Michael asked her if she had been sleeping good, she answered, "Oh, I'm not sleeping."

Chuh.

Before dinner tonight, Michael and I were chatting while she rested ... the tray came and we began to try and wake her. I'm not kidding when I tell you that the word "Coma" came to my mind. She just about wouldn't rouse.

We met with Hospice ... nice people all around. Hopefully, they can make her life more comfortable in the coming days.

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I'm so tired.

"Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me ..."

It's March! And it's already too damn hot for me. I think the warmth may be temporary though ... the weekend will be cooler, "they" say.

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Grandma F has had a rough week, bless her strong, strong heart. The nurse practitioner wanted to put her in the hospital again today, but again the brothers stood their ground and asked that she be kept as comfy as possible, with no heroic efforts to keep things going. Her IV has pulled out twice now ... once last night, and once again late this afternoon. Hopefully, after this last bag of solution is gone, they can take the needle out of her arm. Now that she's been stuck a dozen times in the last 24 hours, she's worrying about it coming out accidentally again.

Her appetite is tiny, only a few bites off each meal tray. The coughing has reduced, compared to Monday night. But there's still a cough.

She's just worn out.

We're meeting with the Lutheran Hospice tomorrow afternoon to get her all signed up for those services.

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My house is a wreck. The Ragdoll fur puffballs are floating around like they own the place.

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I went yesterday and took a 500-question "psychological" test ... the first step on my road toward a Bypassed Gastric. If this is a surprise to you ... and I know it might be, considering it's the first I've said here about it ... it's something I've been pondering for years, really. I've talked myself out of it many, many times. But I've come to the final conclusion that I need this "tool" to help me, once and for all, lose this weight that's burdening my body and soul. My extra weight has been my reason for saying "no" to life for so many years. I'm getting older by the minute. I'm not ready to deal with health problems that are sure to start arriving any day now. And I'm tired of the up and down, the yoyo-ing of my weight over the years of dieting. So tired.

Jimmy attended a free informational seminar with me last week at "Bariatric Solutions", and we were both impressed by the surgeon and the facility. I enrolled in the program, and the first step was the previously-mentioned psych testing. There's a psychologist and a nutritionist on staff with the surgeon, and I'll have to meet with both of them, and the surgeon before my insurance will even be filed. Also, I have to attend six pre-op support group sessions before I can have the surgery. It'll be a long process. And in the past, that would be enough to discourage me. But I'm determined to see this through, with compliance and cooperation on my part. And patience, mustn't forget the patience.

I hope that, after the test I took yesterday, the psychologist doesn't find me "too wacked-out" for surgery!

"You are the only one that needs to know ..."

Monday, Monday.

The doctor got in early today to see Grandma F. I got a call a bit past 9 AM, asking which hospital we preferred. Wha?

After some conferring between the brothers and the nursing home, it was decided she'd receive her treatment right there where she is. I got there around 11:45 this morning, and she was already hooked up to an IV, and on oxygen. The most popular theory is that she's aspirating again. The speech therapist will be evaluating her later today. There's still the chance it could be something else, I guess.

When I walked in, she smiled and said, with no small amount of victory in her voice, "They can't take me out of here today!" ... holding up her hand with the IV.

Grandma F: 1
Therapy: 0

She had little to no appetite for her lunch: ground-up fried chicken, rice & gravy, green beans, and roll. She did get rid of both her water and milk though.

As soon as lunch was taken away, she slept. I hung around until around 3 PM, then told her I'd be back later in the day, around suppertime ... and came home for a bit.

I knew she was not well over the weekend, but to see the oxygen going again, and hear that cough ... it's hard not to feel sad. Lisa, the nurse, said the doctor wanted her to have 4 bags of the IV solution, and he will see her again on Thursday.

Oh ... and they came and did a chest x-ray right after lunch. I'm sure we'll get a phone call after it's read.

-----

In other news: Tomorrow just might be the start of something big for me. Stay tuned.

"She dreams in color, she dreams in red ..."

Another cloudy, rainy Saturday. But I'll be damned ... it's the LAST Saturday in February! Unless the next 3 days drag on forever, I'll be happy to admit that this particular February did not last six months. Nice.

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Yesterday, I went first to the hair salon at Dogwood Acres. The beautician (can't bring myself to actually call her a hair stylist) was there, cutting a man's hair. I explained my situation, telling her that Grandma needed a shampoo, but didn't want to come unless I was with her. She said she'd be happy to wash her hair as soon as she was finished with the man she was working with. (That sentence sucks, sorry.)

Grandma was sleeping when I got to her room. I woke her up, and told her that Christa was going to wash her hair in a little while. She seemed ok with that, and said she wanted to go to the bathroom. Into the wheelchair, shoes on ... bathroom. She wants the light off and the door open. I have no explanation.

After she finished and washed her hands, Christa showed up. We grabbed the White Rain shampoo ... the only one Grandma will consider using ... and headed down the hall. Christa was great with Grandma ... asking her about her family, and telling her how beautiful her hair is. After the wash, she asked if Grandma would like a little trim. Grandma first refused, but then (with very little coaxing) agreed to let her "clean up around her ears".

Here's my favorite snippet of conversation from the hair salon:

Christa: "Where were you born, Mrs. F?"

Grandma: "GEORGIA! And I guess I'm going to have to swim back there, since no one will take me back."

Christa: "Why do you want to go back?"

Grandma: "Well, everything I have ever owned is in Georgia, everything I have is there, everything I want is there ..."

Me: "Grandma, I'm not there!"

Grandma: "I'm taking you with me."

Heehee.

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Her roommate is still sick, and on oxygen. Her daughter came in while I was there yesterday and seemed a bit upset that no one had noticed that her Mom had been running a fever, until she came in and saw her Mom's face was beet-red. She asked them to take her temp, then a chest x-ray ... that's when the pneumonia was found. I wonder how long her Mom would have been without a diagnosis if she had not been coming in every single day to check on her. How could they change her briefs, reposition her in the bed, bathe her ... and not notice her fever??? Grrrr.....

And I hate to even type it out, but Grandma had a gurgly cough yesterday. I added her name to the "Doctor Book", so that the doctor can check her out on Monday when he makes the rounds there. Also alerted her nurse, although I'm not sure they will do anything. We'll see how she sounds when we get over there later today.

And speaking of beet-red, Grandma F wants all of us to eat more beets. They build your blood, don't you know.

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Oh oh! I forgot the best part. While we were in the hair salon yesterday, Grandma said she thought she would like for Christa to come and get her once a week so she could get her hair washed. I said, "You mean whether I'm here to go with you or not?" She said ... drumroll please ... "You don't have to go with me. I will let her come and get me."

People, it's the small miracles that keep me going. :-)

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Paula Deen has finally cooked something I wouldn't eat. I love to watch her Food Network show "Paula's Home Cooking". She's southern, and genuine ... and her oldest son is drop-dead gorgeous. Anyway, she is famous for adding butter to everything. And if it doesn't have butter, it has bacon grease. So I'm pretty much used to the fact that almost all of her recipes are as unhealthy as they can be. Unhealthy, but tasty. I have two of her cookbooks, and have enjoyed several of her fattening recipes.

This week, however, I was horrified to watch her make what she called "Bill Nicholson's Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding with Butter Rum Sauce". Oy vey, y'all. I love sugar. I do. But this made my teeth ache, and then I got lightheaded and sick to my stomach as I watched Paula take a bite of her creation.

Americans, as a whole, have gone loop-the-friggin-loop (thank you, Shirley Valentine) where food and portion sizes are concerned. We eat too damn much. We eat too much sugar. And, for the most part, we're growing wider every year. After watching Paula make this mess on her show this week, I'm thinking there's no end in sight. I wonder how many people in her audience made this diabetes-inducer for dessert this week!

I'm adding the recipe to this atrocity so you can be nauseous with me ... NOT so you can run to the kitchen to make it. Mm'K?

Bill Nicholson's Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding with Butter Rum Sauce
2 dozen Krispy Kreme donuts
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
2 (4.5-ounce) cans fruit cocktail (undrained)
2 eggs, beaten
1 (9-ounce) box raisins
1 pinch salt
1 or 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
Butter Rum Sauce, recipe followsPreheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Cube donuts into a large bowl. Pour other ingredients on top of donuts and let soak for a few minutes. Mix all ingredients together until donuts have soaked up the liquid as much as possible.

Bake for about 1 hour until center has jelled. Top with Butter Rum Sauce.

Butter Rum Sauce:
1 stick butter
1 pound box confectioners' sugar
Rum, to taste

Melt butter and slowly stir in confectioners' sugar. Add rum and heat until bubbly. Pour over each serving of Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding.

(Oh, the insanity.)

"Don't explain yourself 'cause talk is cheap ..."

Still have gray roots here today .... "Marge" called this morning to reschedule my hair stuff for tomorrow instead. What's another day when the roots are an inch long?

-----

Proof that I am easily influenced ... especially by my kiddos .... I'm watching CNBC coverage of US vs. Canada men's curling competition. And enjoying it. Canada leads by two points. Part of me still thinks it looks like a sport for janitors. You know, with all the sweeping.

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Grandma F was sitting in her wheelchair, halfway into the bathroom. I came in and said, "Hey! What are you up to?" She answered, "I'm going in here to the bathroom." "Well," I said, "Don't you want to turn the light on?"

She answered, sort of grumpy-like, "Well I can't see. So I don't need the light!" Then I said, "Grandma, you'll need the light ... when the door is closed, it'll be pitch black in there!"

Then she turned around, smiling and says, "Oh! It's you! I thought they were coming to kidnap me. I don't really need to go to the bathroom. I was just heading in there to hide."

Yes folks, she hates therapy THAT much.

Her roommate has come down with pnuemonia, is on oxygen, and sleeping a lot.

Grandma will not consider leaving her room, even to take a "walk" with me pushing her wheelchair. She's too afraid she won't get to come back exactly when she wants to. She also won't agree to another hair-washing appointment, for the same reason. I guess I'll go over on Friday afternoon, when the hairdresser is there, and see if she can take Grandma to the salon while I'm there. That's the only way she'd agree to getting her hair washed ... during shower time is out of the question.

We talked again about why she's here, and not in Georgia. I'm trying to be so gentle and calm with her when we talk about it ... mostly just listening to her. Seems to upset her less that way.

I watched a PBS show called Almost Home last night. It highlighted a nursing home community whose administrator, John George, is trying to change the way the institutionalized elderly live. From the website: "His goal is to transform the way people see nursing homes—not as institutions of boredom and despair but as vibrant communities where residents live rich and fulfilling lives." I was mesmerized. I love the way this man thinks. He says, "The baby boomers need to really start to think about if they themselves never want to be in an institution the way it looks today, then what can they do to change it?"

Amen, brother.

"Everybody wake up, if you're living with your eyes closed ..."

Slow-motion weekend here at the castle ...

We had dinner with Emilie on Friday, and dinner with Adam and Brandy on Saturday. Nice, both times. Even got a mini curling primer from Adam. He's right, it's fun to watch. We watched a DVD of the 2000 Clemson marching band ... with both Brandy and Adam in it, only before they met.

Me: "This is so cool ... we were all there, and had no idea we were videotaping our son's wife and the mother of our grandchildren!"

Brandy: "FUTURE grandchildren!!! Sheesh!!"

:-)

Did I mention that Brandy prepared for us some mighty tasty Cosmopolitans? Yum.

Sunday was crappier than crappy, which will happen when two old crappy people try to share the same space. I tried to watch "In Her Shoes", and fell asleep before it was over.

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Seems like I come late to the party every time, but Adam and Brandy brought the first season of "Lost" on DVD over here last night, so I could become addicted. One episode in, I like it. Maybe I'll be caught up by the time the 3rd season begins. If they release Season 2 in a timely manner, that is.

-----

Haircut and color for me tomorrow morning. And not a moment too soon. Actually, several moments late.

-----

On Friday, I got into a tiny altercation with a Yuppie Passive-Aggressive Asshole in the middle of the Sam's Club book aisle. I don't know what threw me more ... the fact that this guy confronted me, or the fact that my own husband stood back and didn't say anything. I don't know what I expected, but I was disappointed to feel alone there when he was standing nearby.

On the extremely-off chance that the Yuppie Passive-Aggressive Asshole is reading this:

Dear YPAA:
You saw me waiting to pass by. Your cart was blocking the aisle. It seems like it might have been simpler to stop your all-important cell phone conversation and move your cart to the side, than to grumble loudly into the phone that some bitch had just tapped your cart with hers trying to get past you. The fact that you decided, at THAT time, to pause your phone conversation to announce to me that I might have said "Excuse me" to you ... well, that's when you started sounding like Whiny McTinyDick to me. Everything you said after that was impossible to understand ... you were speaking Jerkwad, and I only speak English. Sorry.
I hope you had a nice afternoon after proving what a big boy you are.
Asshat.

At least it disproved my growing theory that the fatter I get, the more invisible I become. That particular asshole saw me. Heh.

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What's for dinner? What do I look like, a housewife???

"I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak ..."

The Friday Five

1. If you could go back and relive one moment or day from your life, without changing anything, what would you re-experience?

A summer day from the early 90’s or late 80’s … when we’re all gathered at the beach house in Florida. Those were wonderful days.

2. If you could witness a moment in history, again without changing anything, what would you want to see?

(This question is a repeat, I remember answering it not too long ago.) I’d go back and witness Woodstock. Because I’m a hippie in my heart.

3. If you could talk to a younger version of yourself, what age would you visit and what message would you give?

I’d go back and tell 16-year-old Dawn that she doesn’t have to “have a boyfriend” to be happy. I’d tell her to finish college and get her nursing degree. I’d tell her, for future reference, that perms are not her friend. I’d tell her to eat right and exercise. But I’d tell her she’s NOT FAT. I’d tell her to stop worrying what other people think about her. And I’d tell her that life never stays bad, things always get better … and the bad stuff happens for a reason. It makes you stronger and wiser.

4. If you could choose one moment that would be guaranteed to happen in your future, what would it be and when would it happen?

Oh yeah, that wonderful day when I win 75 million in the lottery, and I reach my goal weight ... TOMORROW!

5. Pretend you left a time capsule for yourself 5, 10, 15, 20 or more years ago. You just opened it. What three things from your past are you now holding and what age were you when you buried them?

I’m holding my first Barbie doll with the brunette helmet hairdo (I got her for Christmas in 1964), my 45 RPM single of “These Boots Are Made For Walking” by Nancy Sinatra, and my white go-go boots (I can’t believe Frances let me have those things … with white fishnet stockings!!!). The year was 1967, and I was 8 years old.

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The doctor himself called me yesterday afternoon, and said that we didn’t have to bring Grandma in today. In fact, we don’t have to go either. Score. He said that her B12, folate, and iron levels are normal … meaning that the anemia is likely being caused by the leukemia itself, and not a vitamin deficiency. He said that for a 93-year-old lady with leukemia, she is in awesome condition.

She was hard to wake up yesterday when I visited. But when she did wake up, she told me she had been exploring her bathroom, and moving around the room in her wheelchair earlier. When the aide came in, she confirmed this … saying that Grandma had been really active and independent all day.

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Today is Jimmy’s off-Friday. I think we will make a trip to the storage building to search for a few more wearable shirts for Grandma, as well as her bottom teeth. Silly me, I thought since she NEVER wore them, we could pack them away and reduce some clutter in her room. Think again. She never wears them, but she wants them in the drawer, dammit. So we’ll find the teeth, and some different clothes and visit with her for a while.

Then I think we’ll do some grocery shopping, maybe do a Sam’s run. The NOAA weather site says a snow/sleet weekend is coming. Of course it’s sunny now, and will be in the mid-60’s this afternoon.

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That is all.

"Follow me, don't follow me ...."

Still waiting to hear from the Cancer Center regarding whether or not we need to drag Grandma out into the daylight tomorrow for the appointment. I actually got to speak to a live person on the phone this morning, so my hopes were raised that I might get an answer today. It's after 3 PM, and I just called again ... to be told that they'd "call me right back with an answer". Still, I believe them.

I would like to go ahead and get the trip to the skilled nursing facility over with for today though. And I'd like to be able to tell Grandma F if we're taking her to the doctor or not while I'm there. Hurry up and wait, Dawn.

-----

Miss Em was in town yesterday for a doctor's appointment. She was gone again before I got a good look at her though.

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If you missed it the first time it aired, Fox is re-airing the Marguerite "GARGILES AND SLYKIKS!" Perrin episode of "Trading Spouses" tomorrow night from 8 to 10 PM. I only saw the final meltdown the first time it aired, so I can't wait to see the whole thing. That Marguerite, she's a loonytoon God Warrior.

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I had to call the bank this morning to enlighten them about a mistake they made on my statement last month. My records showed the check was written for $20, and they had deducted $200 instead. They advised me to go to my local branch and speak with someone in person. Before I got in the car, I took another look at my records so I could show them everything and get my $180 back.

Uh.

So I make bookkeeping mistakes occasionally. It could happen to anyone.

-----

Still no call from the stupid Cancer Center. Like they have more important things to do today!

"If there were no words, no way to speak, I would still hear you ..."

Be my Valentine, dammit!

-----

It's taken me several years to come to the following certainty: I hate February. It drags on and on and ON. The holidays are over, so the cold weather feels depressing. The neighborhood association dues must be paid before the end of the month. There's a forced "Be Romantic" day. The jonquils poke green shoots out of the ground, and then it snows on them. The car insurance is due. And this year, there's the Winter Olympics, too. Ugh.

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I took some flowers over to Dogwood Acres today ... a pink hyacinth for the nurse's desk, and a red rose in a vase being hugged by a stuffed pink poodle for Grandma F. She smiled. :-)

She was kidnapped today and forced to attend a Valentine's Party, where she received a handmade card and a little stuffed bear. Torture!!!

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Mark my words ... tomorrow is the 15th of February, right? It will be SIX WEEKS before it's March 1st. Stupid dragging February.

"Just another day in paradise ..."

Brrrr, y'all.

-----

Grandma F was not in her room this afternoon ... she was still in the therapy room. (This was after 2 PM.) I waited, instead of walking around to where she was. I was pacing in the hallway when she rounded the corner, walking with a walker. When the aide said, "Look Mrs. F, there's your granddaughter," Grandma started crying. She said they had kidnapped her and the police would be picking them up later today.

She sat in her wheelchair while we waited for clean sheets for her bed. She washed her hands so we could do a manicure, and we got her nails nice and smooth again. She drank some iced tea, and settled into her clean sheeted bed ... ahhh, much happier. For some reason, she wanted to talk about her daughter today. She talked, I listened.

I got a really good hug when I left there just now.

-----

Hoping the snowbound ones are having a safe time on the roads today.

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A friend of Emilie's was sent off to Afghanistan yesterday. I've been thinking of him a lot today. I wish they could all just come home.

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That's all I got.

"Before I met you, I was F.I.N.E. fine ... "

Got a quick phone call from Adam and Brandy this morning. All is well in NYC. They were watching for the big snowstorm to arrive there later this afternoon, and having lunch on Broadway. I hope they are having a wonderful day!

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Quiet Saturday here ... just popped in here to show you my latest heartbreak.

Here's Steven Tyler and Joe Perry ... a few years ago, to be sure ... but looking every bit the rock 'n roll gods they are. My all-caps CRUSH has always been for Steven, but you have to admit ... Joe and his guitar are worthy. Yes.

Gorgeous.

************************************

Please explain this to me. The picture below was taken after the Grammy Awards the other night.

While Steven still looks like the crazyman I love --- Joe? What fresh hell is THAT? Is that what manorexia looks like? My heart is broken, and I am mailing him a box of homemade cookies immediately. This madness must end.

"You've done your sowin', now you can do your reapin' ..."

Friday. Woot.

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Damn you, Rascal Flatts. Why must you continually reduce me to "the ugly cry" with every song and video you release?

"Skin"
Sarabeth is scared to death
To hear what the doctor will say
She hasn't been well
Since the day that she fell
And the bruise, it just won't go away
So she sits and she waits with her mother and dad
Flips through an old magazine
Till the nurse with a smile
Stands at the door
And says will you please come with me

Sarabeth is scared to death
Cause the doctor just told her the news
Between the red cells and white
Something's not right
But we're gonna take care of you

Six chances in ten it won't come back again
With the therapy were gonna try
It's just been approved
It's the strongest there is
I think we caught it in time

Sarabeth closes her eyes
And she dreams she's dancing
Around and around without any cares
And her very first love is holding her close
And the soft wind is blowing her hair

Sarabeth is scared to death
As she sits holding her mom
Cause it would be a mistake
For someone to take
A girl with no hair to the prom

For, just this morning right there on her pillow
Was the cruelest of any surprise
And she cried when she gathered it all in her hands
The proof that she couldn't deny

Sarabeth closes her eyes
And she dreams she's dancing
Around and around without any cares
And her very first love was holding her close
And the soft wind is blowing her hair

Its quarter to seven
That boy's at the door
And her daddy ushers him in
And when he takes off his cap
They all start to cry
Cause this mornin where his hair had been
Softly she touches just skin

And they go dancin
Around and around without any cares
And her very first true love is holding her close
And for a moment she isn't scared

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Was a little disappointed last night to find out that I won't get to enjoy weekly Jeff-Probst-viewing in HD. Survivor isn't, but CSI is. All the better to see the gore and guts, my pretty.

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Grandma F was not talkative today ... cound be because I woke her from some pretty deep sleep. The room was darkened, and both ladies were far away in dreamland. I put away the clean clothes, and straightened things ... then turned on the light and woke her as gently as I could. Would have been just as easy to leave quietly, but she made me promise I wouldn't ever do that. Can she read my mind? Hmm.

The aide met me coming in and asked me to try and convince her to take her shower this evening. Of course when I brought it up, Grandma scowled and said, "That's the best way I know of to get pnuemonia. All that water in my eyes and nose and ears." Sigh.

The nurse brought her afternoon meds in ... she still refuses to take her afternoon dose of Colace. Why? Well, because she has ALWAYS taken only one of those a day. That's why. And apparently, if it didn't happen ALWAYS, it ain't happenin' now. She asked what the Aricept was for ... I told her it was to make her brain keep working right. She swallowed that one down. Just for future reference, the Lexapro is to keep her nerves healthy.

I didn't stay very long today. My cold is nasty, and I couldn't think of a darn thing to talk about. Maybe tomorrow.

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A note to Someone Special: This too shall pass. Take one day at a time, and be strong in yourself. It'll be alright! Treat yourself like the one-of-a-kind treasure that you are. And don't settle for less than you want ... or deserve. :-)

"Get down girl, go 'head, get down ..."

The Grammy Awards were on last night. And in our house, they were on in HDTV, baby. Oh yeah. Don't know if it was the crystal clear picture, or the Dolby Digital sound that did it, but Jimmy watched the whole thing with me! (He's no fun though ... every time I tried to snark, he shushed me so he could "read the bottom of the screen" ... where they were listing all the awards given off the air.)

So I came here to snark. Here's my list:

* Madonna. Oh Madge, you know I adore you. But please honey, put on some pants. Her eyes looked scary ... several times I thought of Bette Davis' Baby Jane when there would be a closeup of Madonna's face. Aging sucks. But she still has my TOTAL attention when she's on my TV screen.

* Keith Urban is just a big ole platter of yummified hotness.

* There is nothing more adorable than Kelly Clarkson. She's unpretentious, she's real, and she can sing. I loved her even more when I saw her take her purse onstage to accept her Grammys.

* Who is John Legend?

* Green Day, Record Of The Year, Boulevard Of Broken Dreams, Yes.

* Sheryl Crow's chest is painfully bony.

* Ellen, introducing Paul McCartney: "This man needs no introduction." Then she left the stage. Perfect!

* When the Linkin Park guy started singing "Yesterday", I wondered if he got all nervous singing that when Paul was in the building. Then Paul walked onstage to sing it with him. I'm all about the Paul Love.

* Springsteen ... wonderful performance. Only when the camera was on his right, the way the lighting was ... well, he looked just like Bob Dylan. Not good.

* Speaking of Paul McCartney ... and why not? To this old lady, one of the highlights of the show was Paul rocking to Helter Skelter. Excellent.

* The Sly and The Family Stone tribute was a steamy mess. Sly needed a wheelchair with a neck support. His mohawk was too heavy. He tried to sing and take part in his tribute ... but eventually you could tell he was just muttering "wtf" while he shuffled offstage before the song was even over. Too funny.

* U2, the big weiners of the night. Eh.

* Kanye West. I waited all night to see the performance of Gold Digger ... love that song. I knew it would involve watching Kanye, since it's his song ... and I was willing to put up with that. I thought I was, anyway. I should have known that his GIANT EGO would ruin it for me. What an ass. I discovered that I enjoy the song on the radio ONLY. That way I don't have to see his smug "Don't I look like Jesus?" face.

-----

I bet Jimmy is yawning at work today.

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I haven't updated since Grandma F's Monday appointment at the Cancer Center. Getting her there was the biggest hurdle. When we arrived at Dogwood Acres, I could hear Grandma in her room, almost screaming "Help me, help me!!" I went in to find the poor CNA trying her best to gently get Grandma dressed and ready for her appointment. Grandma's hands were clamped around the siderails of her bed so tightly, neither one of us could get her to let go. When she saw it was me, she started crying and telling me that the CNA was trying to kidnap her. It took lots of calm talking to get her to settle down. *sigh*

The actual appointment ended up taking the entire afternoon. They drew a lot of blood, and after the doctor took an initial look at it, we were told that she's got Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. And probably has had it for a while. There won't be any treatment ... the doctor said that, even in a younger patient, there is often no treatment given for this particular cancer. He wants to see her again at the end of next week ... I need to call and find out if she really needs to be there, or if the appointment is to hear the final results of all the blood tests. Because if she really doesn't need to be there, I'm all for leaving her where she's happiest ... her bed!

When I went in yesterday, I was stopped by both a CNA and her afternoon nurse ... both wanting to tell me about her latest ornery behaviour. I told Grandma that everyone there is beginning to think she is a crabby old lady. Maybe that will snap her back into a cooperative frame of mind. I think she cares what others think and say about her.

A few days ago, one of the aides told me what they really are saying about her ... "Awww no, I've got Mrs. F again today! I just had her two days ago!" :-( Not good.

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Hypochondriac Update: I've got a head cold.

"Could I have been anyone other than me? ..."

We went on Friday to pick up our shiny new High Definition TV Digital Cable Box. Oh, the excitement. We get five, count 'em, five channels in HDTV.

And no, ABC (Super Bowl broadcaster) isn't one of them.

-----

Adam and Brandy came and watched the game with us. We ate healthy Weight Watcher's Super Bowl food ... raw veggies, fresh fruit, grilled chicken, baked potatoes ... yay, us. It was hard to get all worked up over a football game with teams we didn't really care about. We decided to cheer for Seattle, since one of their starters was a former Clemson player. Oh well.

And the half-time show was the suck. I never was a fan of the Stones, even when they were alive. I agree with a fellow blogger, who said this morning, "How about letting the drum corps world champs do the half-time show?" Now THAT would have been a half-time show. Stupid Super Bowl planners.

Favorite Super Bowl commercial: "Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest" preview. (one word: JohnnyDepp)

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My future today holds a trip to the hematologist with Grandma F. This should be fun. She was an ornery thang this weekend, refusing meds and tests willynilly. We decided that, should she refuse to go today, that we will not get upset about it. The decision is hers, and if she makes a bad one, and no amount of upset on our part can change things ... then why go through the upset? I wonder though ... when does she go from being seen as a competent adult who can make her own choices to a woman suffering from dementia who can no longer make rational choices for herself?

Because, in our minds, she's already there.

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My hands look like I danced with Edward Scissorhands (one word: JohnnyDepp) last night. It's like I forgot how to use a knife. I even impaled my hand on a steak knife while loading the dishwasher.

-----

I watched "Titanic" for the 47th time on Saturday night ... and cried like a baby. Again.

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Woke up with a sore throat today ... I'm comforted by the fact that I've felt that "coming down with something" thing for days now, and the sore throat means I'm not a total hypochondriac.

We can stop with the sore throat though. Thanks.

"I used to think I was the only one ..."

(Oh, Raul.)

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Gray skies and bare trees ... the sight from my kitchen table today. Maybe I should take the laptop into the den so I won't be tempted to sing a sad Natalie Merchant song for you.

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Insomnia Update: I fell asleep around 3 AM this morning, and that's better than nothing. I changed my "sleep number" to a rather mashed-potato-like 35, and decided I liked it. Sorta like my own air-cocoon.

Before falling asleep, I watched Turner Classic Movies ... "Cactus Flower" with Goldie Hawn and Walter Matthau. Every year, as Oscar time grows near, TCM shows the better movies. Not that this was a "better movie", but it was one I had not seen before. Fun, in a goofy 1969 way ... I especially liked the disco scene, where everyone danced to instrumental versions of Monkees hits. Yikes.

I think I'll keep up with what TCM is showing between now and March, and record some of the better ones with Jimmy's DVD recorder ... if he'll help me figure out how to program the thing.

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It's Survivor Night! Exciting to only me, I suppose. Most of America has grown tired of The Tribe Speaking, but not me baby. Mainly I just get happy because it means I can see Jeff Probst once a week again. But this season, I'll be cheering on a hometown chick: Ruth Marie ... I can't give her total love because she's a former Gamecock, but we can't all be perfect. She's a mom, in her 40's, and she could kick my ass. Go, Ruth Marie!

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A Twilight Zone Moment, brought to you courtesy of my visit with Grandma F yesterday:

Grandma, laying in her bed and staring at the wall: "I want ... you ... to get that owl picture ... and put on the back ... Made by Geraldine in the 1980's ... and for Jimmy, James ... anytime he gets to feeling ... wary ... he can look ... and those owls ... those 3 owls will be watching. And for Dawn ... Stark (at this point she cut her eyes over to look at me really fast, to make sure I was still there listening?) Dawn Stark ... anytime she is feeling ... you know, wondering ... she can look at the three owls. They will be watching. And put on there ... For Christmas 2005 ... From Grandma."

God bless her heart, she's talking about a large piece of crewel work she did ... it has owls on a tree branch. And back at Shady Acres, she started asking me to find a large piece of white paper, so I could write something on the back of that frame for her. Now, as best as I can figure, she wanted to give it to me and Jimmy for Christmas. Awww.

Except now I won't be able to look at the 3 owls without thinking they are "watching" me.

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Oh God ... I hope "Survivor" isn't on at the same time as "Dancing With The Stars" ... just one more thing to come between a husband and wife!

"I don't mean to wake you, but I can't sleep again ..."

I thought I might watch 'W' on TV last night, but I didn't. Did I miss anything?

No?

That's what I thought.

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So, yeah. Insomnia. It started again in earnest during the worst of the kidney infection, but it's still hanging around this week. Our new bed is so very comfy, and I just don't understand why I can't fall asleep at a reasonable hour. I sleep OK between 5 AM and 7AM. And I can usually fall asleep again between 7 AM and 8:30 AM. But man, I have some freaky dreams in that hour and a half. It's almost not worth the extra sleep.

Surprise ... I'm whining again. What would I write about if I wasn't complaining about something?

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Grandma F was seen by the psych yesterday, and was started on 2 new drugs ... Aricept for the dementia, and Lexapro for depression. It'll take weeks, but I'll be the first to let you know if there's a change.

Jimmy visited with her yesterday after work ... his hair was still smoking when he got home. She was NOT happy. And it didn't help things when Jimmy tried to encourage her to go to therapy. "I WILL GO TO THERAPY WHEN I GET BACK TO GEORGIA!!"

Oh man, I can't wait to see her later today. :-/

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Hey, it's February.

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We watched "Crash" last weekend ... I don't think Jimmy liked it as much as I did. It took a while for me to adjust to the fast pace between seemingly-unrelated storylines. Of course, in the end, they were all related ... and the message was a good one. Loved Sandra Bullock in her role ... she made me cry.

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I have one more episode to watch from The Sopranos, Season 5. I think I'm delaying watching it so that I won't have to wait so long before Season 6 starts. In March, right? Oh, I hope it starts in March. Please let it start in March.


Tony: "Carmela, there's something I gotta confess ... what are you doing?"
Carmela: "Getting my wine in position to throw in your damn face!"

"Guess who's back? Back again ..."

Where the heck have YOU been?

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Alright, I know ... slacking on the updating. (Thanks for the kick in the rear, Brandy!) The main, true, real reason I haven't been writing is this: I hate to bore you good people. And there has been nothing - really, NOTHING - in my head worth sharing with sane folks lately.

I've recovered from the kidney/uti business. It was slow-going, and I will be the first to admit that I googled "Kidney Transplant" more than once. I didn't think the pain was ever going to disappear. But it did, just like it was never there to begin with.

So last week, I was pretty much useless ... pain in my back, crushing fatigue ... I was supposed to update here too? Forget that nonsense! :-)

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Em came to town today to take the GRE exam. Adam left town today to get back to the beach ... another week in Puerto Rico.

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The Wound Care Nurse pronounced Grandma F's pressure sores healed. Amen.

It was naptime when I got there today, and I don't think she ever got fully awake while I was there. Looked like good sleepin'.

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I've been playing with Pandora.com while I've been sitting at the computer today. If you like to listen to music while you're at the computer, you should check it out. (I might like it even better if I was upstairs at the "big" computer with the better speakers ... or even some headphones.)

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I'm feeling ever-so introspective these last few days. I'm sure nothing will come of it, as usual.

"Call 1 - 800 - WaaWaaWaa - WaaWaaWaaWaa ... "

I came back to un-whine.

I'm a grown-ass woman, and if I want someone to bring me something, I need to express the want, and be done with it. To expect Jimmy to pamper me when I'm sick, and read my mind about what I want for dinner ... when I didn't even really know what I wanted myself ... is immature and whiny.

Bad Dawn.

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I am feeling a bit better today. I did go out to see Grandma F this afternoon, and stopped by the grocery strore on the way back. After bringing the bags into the house, and getting a meatloaf in the oven, I will admit that I am done for the day. Beat. Give out. Tuckered. But that's to be expected, I guess.

Grandma F seemed happy to see me. She was angry and "ready to leave this place" though. They keep insisting she go to therapy, and she just will not consider it. An impasse.

She enjoyed some "honey-thick" lemon-flavored iced tea that I took over there for her. I ordered a case online last week, and it came today. Little 4-oz. cups that come pre-thickened ... they seem easier on the taste buds than that crap you stir into regular drinks. She said it didn't taste like tea, but it was good. We got her dentures cleaned up, and she "rinsed off" with a warm washcloth, and I brought her dirty laundry home with me. She got a letter from Shundra too, so we read that.

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OK ... I'm going to take it easy while I get some laundry done. Y'all have a good Tuesday night. xo

"Life is bigger ..."

Can watching the Panthers die in Seattle cause a kidney infection??!

I gave in to the pain on Sunday afternoon, and asked Jimmy to drive me to one of those "doc in a box" places. There comes a time when you just know you need a damn antibiotic.

So I got one. I took the first one around 6 PM, and settled on the sofa to watch the game. Whooo. Brandy came over to watch with us, and Jimmy scrambled some eggs for our supper. Brandy said that whenever she had symptoms of a UTI, her stepmonster - er, stepdad - used to make her chug a beer ... and she would always feel better. Annie Lennox said it best ... "Who am I to disagree?" So I drank a beer. Since it was the first thing I'd had all day, it was the best Miller Lite ever. And I'll admit, I did feel better. Slightly.

Brandy gave up on the game at half-time, and as soon as she left, Jimmy fell asleep in the chair. I laid there thinking, "If we were watching ballroom dancing, he'd be awake!" After 30 minutes or so of snoozing, he decided it was time to go to bed. By then, the game was pretty hopeless ... so we closed up the fireplace and went upstairs to bed at 9:30 PM. We are old farts.

After going upstairs, I guess the beer wore off. I was in pain all night. Monday was spent wondering when the antibiotic was going to kick in. I felt "ok" ... enough that I thought I could make it through the things I needed to do. But when I'd start to do something, my strength would not show up. I felt like overcooked crap yesterday. And it only got worse as the day wore on.

I took the 2nd dose of Levaquin and waited for Jimmy to come home and "helppppp meeeee" ... only I forgot it was Jimmy coming home, and not Dr. Joe Martin from "All My Children".

We've talked about it before and we both agree ... Jimmy is not a nurturer. Jimmy wants to be left ALONE when he's sick, and he will do the same for you. I, on the other hand, will nurture you until you get well just to GET AWAY from me. And I expect the same when I'm sick. I want someone to bring me food and drink, and fluff my pillow, and hold a hand to my forehead, and look worried.

So back to yesterday ... in pain, frustrated, lonely ... poor Jimmy came home to THAT. He brought a small bag from Wendy's upstairs and asked me if I "wanted any" ... and showed me 3 small, nasty-smelling chicken nuggets. I made a face, he said, "No?" ... and he ate another one. The man brought me his leftover chicken nuggets for dinner. Then he said he had also bought a salad there too, did I want half?

Now to be fair, he HAD asked me what I wanted when I called him, crying in pain, earlier. I had said, "Nothing." This is a man who takes everything at face value. I said, "Nothing" ... he heard, "Nothing". End of discussion.

So I got nothing. When I would have loved a cheeseburger and maybe some fries. Even just fries would have made me feel cared-for. And if he had brought home chocolate ice cream, I would have felt like a princess. I know, I'm fat and don't need to be eating those things. But I was sick. And I needed some nurture, damn it. He then proceeded to leave me alone in my misery until he was ready to go to bed. (Sometimes treating people the way you want to be treated ain't the way to go.)

By that time, I was in some serious pain. Including my right kidney. Not good. (I have had one other kidney infection in my life, and I remember the pain. It was Vicodin-pain. It took weeks to feel back-to-normal.) Part of my tears last night were from the dread of going through that again, and part were from the actual misery. I was torn between heading straight to see a doctor, and the knowledge that I was already taking a strong dose of antibiotic. I knew they could give me some painkiller ... which was a really good reason to get in the car ... but it hurt so bad I didn't want to move.

Around 10 PM, I decided I'd go and call the "Nurse-Line" provided by our insurance company. I was going to ask what they thought I should do, considering I had only taken two doses of the antibiotic. I kept thinking that any minute now, it was going to kick in and I was going to be feeling better.

And as soon as I hobbled downstairs and into the kitchen ... that's exactly what happened. The kidney pain just vanished. Then I cried again because I was so relieved.

Is there an end to this long and boring-to-everyone-but-me story? No, actually. I did sleep for a 3-hour stretch last night, which is a vast improvement over the 3 nights before that. And the pain in my kidney is as good as gone ... it feels like I got punched there, really hard, about a week ago. Just the hint of a memory of pain. I can live with that. Peeing is still no fun, but that has improved, as well. Today I will take Dose 3 of 5, and hope for as dramatic a change as I got last night.

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On Saturday night, I watched the Miss America pageant. I used to ALWAYS watch it, back in the day. But in the last decade or more, not so much. Don't know why I settled in to watch it on Saturday, especially since it started at 11:00 PM. But I was so surprised to see that Miss Georgia was a little girl that Adam went all through school with ... elementary through high school. She went to UGA, and I guess entered the pageant stuff there. Anyway, there she was ... Monica Pang ... looking every bit like someone who could win that silly thing. She had the very best talent of all the top 5. She was poised, she was lovely. She lost to Miss Oklahoma. Monica was robbed. She's the prettiest 1st Runner-Up ever. The local news did a segment on her last night ... interviewing her teachers at the high school. They all knew she was "something special". Chuh, right.

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I've been feeling bad for teasing Jimmy about his gay TV habits. So I've decided to list all the ways the man I married is MANLY:

1. He knows how to fix stuff.

2. He wears Gold Bond powder.

3. He eats everything with hot sauce on it.

4. He farts and burps with pride.

5. He gets stuff from the basement or the attic when I need it.

6. He used to make stuff ... like bookshelves and tables.

7. He drives a truck. (This barely made the list. You know how I feel about that truck, Jimmy.)

8. He hates to go shopping.

9. He has supported his family, without complaining --- well, not much complaining --- for 27 years.

10. He mows the grass.

11. He takes the garbage can to the street once a week. And he brings it back in when I don't.

12. And seriously, the man knows how to fix stuff.

All of that, and he still enjoys good ballroom dancing on TV. :-)

"Hearts and thoughts, they fade away ..."

Rainy Saturday here in South Carolina. At the moment, I am stranded here ... Jimmy took my car to the dealership today to have "7 or 800 hundred dollars wortha work done". They brought him back home, since it was going to be a full day's job ... and he just dashed out of here in his truck to go BACK to the dealership. They called to tell him he could come and see something up under the hood. I have no idea. But he was out of here so fast, I think it must be Catherine Zeta-Jones up under there. Oh, and now it's going to cost $1,100. I kept trying to tell him that all we needed to do is add another $110,000 and we could buy that BMW. My powers of persuasion are pitiful these days.

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We made a quick trip to Clemson yesterday, to help Emilie get her Internet back up and working. (Her laptop slid off her bed yesterday and crushed the wireless card.) Jimmy wanted to check to make sure it was just the card and not the computer that was messed up ... turns out both are broken. At least the port in the computer where the wireless card goes was messed up. He took a wireless card (?) that plugged into the USB port, and all is well for the moment.

We took Em and Adam T out to dinner ... then parted ways so that they could go and buy groceries, and we could drive back home again.

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While I was in Clemson, I began to feel sick. And felt worse and worse as the night wore on. I had all the symptoms of a raging bladder infection (UTI). When we got home, I started drinking water ... and today I feel a bit better where that is concerned. But now I have a headache, sore throat and muscle aches ... I feel like I didn't get enough sleep last night. Ugh. I'm still power-drinking the water, and trying to carry on, my wayward son.

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We did make it home in time for Jimmy to watch his new addiction: "Dancing With The Stars". There is something wrong with that boy.

"This is our lives on holiday ...."

Fast day today. And I don't even know where it went.

Emilie came by for a quick stop, in town to see her doctor. We went to On The Border for some lunch, and then she was *poof* gone again.

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I spoke to the Speech Therapist this morning on the phone. She said, after watching Grandma F at breakfast this morning, that Grandma needs to stay on "honey-thick" liquids. She was, however, going to change her from a pureed diet to "mechanical soft", which basically means no more blender food, but soft foods with ground meats. I think Grandma will enjoy that more.

She asked me what was the deal with her horrible attitude. I told her, "That's just the way it is." I planned to go in this afternoon, with an attitude of my own. I was going to tell Grandma I thought it was silly to protest so much over a few simple exercises, etc., etc. But when I got there, I found Mary Sunshine in Grandma's bed. I don't know what the heck happened, but she was all smiles and agreement today! She had been up to the bathroom (with help, of course) three times already, and was ready to go again when I got there.

After that was done, the CNA told her that the doctor wanted her out of bed as much as possible, and did she think she could stay up until after dinner. (This was about 3:15 PM.) Grandma said she thought she'd be alright with that. She sat in her wheelchair and ate half a cup of pudding that I had brought over for her. She told me that she had tried to cooperate this morning during therapy because she didn't have to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes. Then she drank a good amount of water, and we went for "a tour". I pushed her all around every hall in the place. We sat and watched the birds in the activity room for a little while. Her nurse, Erica, noticed her as we wheeled by and told her how good she looked today. Grandma said, "Thank you." I could hear the Twilight Zone soundtrack in my head all afternoon.

But it was good. Very, very good.

They drew blood last night to check her iron level, B12 level, and folate level. The doctor ordered this testing after reviewing her last bloodwork and seeing that her hemoglobin was low. Erica said the doc suspected anemia. She said to expect to hear some results from that late tomorrow.

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Here's a silly little quiz thing I found on another journal I read online:

What were you doing 10 years ago? Let's see ... 1996. I was living right here, with two teenagers in high school. I weighed about 30 pounds less than I do today. I was poised on the brink of an AOL addiction that would consume 5 years of my life, and almost kill my marriage and me. I was a "Band Mom", which means I went to a lot of high school football games and marching band competitions. Seems like forever ago, seems like yesterday.

What were you doing 1 year ago? Same damn thing I’m doing right now. Sitting in front of the computer and reading other people's journals. I was poised on the brink of falling off the Weight Watchers diet, and gaining back 20 of the 35 pounds I had lost. Jimmy was jetting off to Puerto Rico, and I spent time every week in a lesbian bar, listening to Adam play drums with Blue Pelican Groove. I was also dealing with a monster depression in my head.

Five snacks I enjoy: Popcorn with Parmesan cheese, chips & salsa, red grapefruit (peeled and eaten in sections like an orange), chocolate ice cream, Lay's Dill Pickle potato chips

Five songs to which I know all the lyrics: "Friends In Low Places" by Garth Brooks, "Galileo" by Indigo Girls, "Vienna" by Linda Eder, "Closer To Fine" by Indigo Girls, "Why" by Annie Lennox

Five things I would do if I were a billionaire: 1. Buy a house on the beach. No, I’d buy several houses on the beach, all together, like a compound. My kids, my sisters, everybody who's anybody to me could have a house there. 2. Buy a BMW 760 Li Sedan. In Titanuim Silver Metallic. 3. Hire someone to clean my house on a daily basis. 4. Pay off the student loans. 5. Buy another Ragdoll kitten. (or two!)

Five bad habits: 1. I bite my cuticles. (Gross, I know.) 2. I cuss like a sailor when I'm driving and other drivers annoy me. 3. I get far too upset over little things. 4. I buy things we don't need. 5. I eat for emotional reasons.

Five things I like doing: 1. Perusing the Internet. 2. Watching TV. 3. Rubbing Miss Maggie Belle's belly while burying my nose in her neck. (She tolerates this as long as a good kitty can.). 4. Reading books and magazines. 5. Cooking.

Five things I would never wear, buy or get new again: 1. I will never wear leggings again. (You're welcome.) 2. I will never buy a McDonald's milkshake again. 3. I imagine I will never have another brand new car again, at least that's what I've been told. 4. I've also been told I'll never have another brand new house again either. :-( 5. "Never" is such a strong and final word, I can't think of anything else!

Five favorite toys: 1. My Sleep Number bed 2. My laptop. 3. The Rabbit (not really mine, it belongs to Jimmy. But I'm never drinking wine again, anyway.) 4. My Dyson. 5. Mario Kart for my Game Cube.

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Gotta go now and make some turkey sandwiches for Jimmy to take to his poker game tonight. Just call me June Cleaver.

"Up on the airplane, nearer my God to thee ..."

Adam is winging it to Puerto Rico, as I type. Safe travels, son ... and have a good trip!

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Golden Globe Awards Snark:
(I know you didn't watch because you knew I'd tell you all about it.)

* Harrison Ford is too old to wear an earring. Only old rock-n-roll singers can pull that off.

* John Travolta said Pierce "Bronson". Ouch.

* Best Acceptance Speech: Steve Carell from "The Office"

* Best Dressed Female: Kiera Knightly

* Best Dressed Male: George Clooney

* Gwyneth Paltrow has adopted a fake Irish accent in the same annoying way that Madonna grew a British one. I think they both need to get over it.

* All of a sudden, I stopped liking Jamie Fox.

* Not a damn woman there wore a bra. Drew Barrymore's nipples were downright distracting.

* "Brokeback Mountain" won Best Movie, Drama.

* "I Walk The Line" won Best Movie, Musical/Comedy.

* The Desperate Housewives make me gag.

* It ended on time.

There. You can thank me for watching it for you next time you see me.

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Grandma F ate some applesauce while I was there today. I also took a small fan in, to place by her bed, in an effort to compromise on the room temperature. Her roommate gets too cold, and Grandma stays too warm.

She was really quite angry when I got there today ... "ready to chew nails", I believe she said ... over the whole therapy torture. She was feeling calmer and happier by the time I left. I wish she could just go with the flow, where the therapy is concerned. I think I remember saying that about her when she was at Shady Acres.

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The wind is blowing so hard again this evening ... wonder if that branch of doom hanging over the deck will finally come down tonight.

Time to start dinner.

As ever,
Me

"I have these pictures and I keep these photographs, to remind me of a time ..."

Now then.

I've been doing some thinking (warning!) and have decided that having unstructured time is a real no-no for me ... on a regular basis, anyway. A little unstructured time is good for the soul. But 24/7 unstructured is no good for me. When I was seeing a therapist last year, I began to see how it contributes to my depressive times. And besides that ... I just don't seem to ever get a damn thing done.

Which brings me to my January Lightbulb Moment: I am going to follow a schedule. Yup, I am going to get out of bed at a reasonable hour, and follow a schedule ... one which will allow me plenty of time for my Internet-perusing, reading my books, and other such "selfish" pursuits. But following this schedule will also ensure that I'm up and dressed with the rest of America, and getting some chores done too.

This probably sounds like I've lost my mind to you working-folks ... but the whole schedule thing is difficult for me. I can always find something to entertain my mind, and I can go from one time-wasting experience to the next, without so much as a passing thought toward what I SHOULD be doing.

So wish me luck. Organization and productivity can't be too far away.

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Grandma F has written another song for her famous Broadway musical, "The Physical Therapist Is The Devil." I think she's going to call it "I'm Strong Enough Now".

Today she told me all about how she didn't need to go to the therapy room ... she could do all those exercises in the hallway. I am perfecting my sympathetic "Hmmm", which I do in between each verse ... y'all should remember to ask me to do it for you the next time you see me.

She did tell me a cute story about how she lost her glasses for 3 days once, and then found them hanging in a tree outside. She had been working in the yard, and they wouldn't stay up on her nose, so she took them off and hung them in the tree. Only she forgot that part when she couldn't find her glasses. I think they call that "CRS". ;-)

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Nice weekend ... Michael and Patti came ... and when we weren't eating, we talked about food. Not good. Not good at all. But that Pasta Milano was soooo good. Twice it was good, since I ate the leftovers while I watched an old movie on TV Sunday afternoon.

The movie was "A Place In The Sun", with Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor. I enjoyed watching Shelly Winters play the poor, pregnant girl that Montgomery Clift wanted dead and gone ... never knowing (until last night) that Shelly Winters passed away on Saturday at the age of 85. I liked her in "The Poseidon Adventure", and she made me laugh as Roseanne's blustery old grandma back in the 90's.

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Carolina Panthers are on their way to the Championship game against the Seattle Seahawks next Sunday. I was worried they may not make a good showing against the Bears yesterday, but man. The Bears' quarterback was weak. And he uses too much sunscreen. (That boy is PALE.)

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Golden Globe Awards tonight ... gonna watch to see what everybody's wearing. I've been doing it since 1985, why stop now?

"I'll be back ..."

Just a quick note ...

I've decided to go back to my old routine of updating here in the late afternoon or early evening. Hopefully, it will mean I can be more productive in the morning hours of my day ... instead of sitting here trying to clear the cobwebs and write.

Y'all have a good Monday, and I'll type more later.

"Talk about things and nobody cares ..."

I was going to do this week's Friday Five, but the questions this week are crappy. I guess it's not easy to come up with five great new questions every week, but The Friday Five ain't what it used to be.

God, that sounds stupid. I'm 12.

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Jimmy got home safely last night.

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I'm going to act a bit like a housewife today, because Michael and Patti are driving up here tonight. I know it's pretty well documented what a procrastinating, lazy-ass I am ... but when faced with the prospect of "other people" coming to my house, well, I've been known to grab a dust rag. That's the plan today. That, and running over to sit with Grandma F for a while. And a quick trip to the grocery store.

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I sure do wish I had something else to write about so I wouldn't have to get off my butt and do all that stuff I just wrote up there.

FINE.

"You're broken when your heart's not open ..."

Just spent a very frustrating morning looking at health insurance options for Emilie. (She was dropped from our group plan on January 1st because she's 23.) From everything I've been reading, it looks like the chances of her being approved are slim to none, based on her medical history ... and even if she IS approved, she'll have a $5000 deductible, and a monthly premium equal to 2 car payments.

I should really get past all the speculation by actually talking to an agent. I filled out one of those online forms on Tuesday, and have been flooded with e-mails and phone calls since then. Maybe today I'll pick one out of the crowd and talk to them.

I did read today that Starbucks offers nice benefits to all of their employees who work over 20 hours a week. Something to keep in mind as a last resort, maybe.

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Speaking of jobs ... hope your 1st day at work went well, Em! I can't wait to hear the details. xo

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Heyyyy Brandy! I'd be more likely to fall for that comment you made on the last entry if I had never seen your reaction to Baby Evan's unbearable cuteness. :-) I know I'll have to wait, but I'm fairly certain I'll have a Grandbaby one day!

Also, I don't know if that last entry seemed as if I was complaining about being a Mom ... but if it did, I messed up getting my point across. Because even though life really never got around to being "normal" again after the kids were born, I would never wish to go back and change anything about my "career choice". My children made me who I am. They formed my heart. And I can't imagine my world without them in it.

So just to clarify ... I ain't complainin'!

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I didn't write yesterday because there is absolutely NOTHING going on around here. And my brain is on Winter Break ... it happens every year about this time. I can't come up with an interesting topic of conversation to save my life.

I did drive Jimmy to the airport at an ungodly hour yesterday (and will stay up late tonight to go and get him from the same place). That was about it for excitement.

I visited with Grandma F, and we read a letter from her friend back home. The wound nurse came in while I was there, and re-stressed the importance of staying off her back when she's in bed. It makes me wonder though ... what happens when the skin on her hip bones starts to break down? She is really just skin and bones now, and I'm sure all the 'side-laying' will begin to have an effect.

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I have typed and deleted so many sentences in this space over the course of the last 15 minutes ... I give up. I tried to tell you about the 3-part PBS documentary I watched this week. I wanted to tell you about the good book I'm reading. I even backspaced over a sentence describing Maggie's latest silliness.

It all seemed too boring for human consumption. Ahh ... now there's a good phrase to describe me and my life this January!