Posts from the ‘Medical Reports’ Category

Getting Used To Life Not Being Fair

I was walking through the Kroger yesterday after work and beings it’s Holiday Time, there was a voice on the speaker trying to get people to donate to Second Harvest.
Second Harvest seems to do really good work in feeding the people of Nashville when times are hard. I’ve participated in their various food drives through the years and am always glad to support them and would encourage anybody to help them out.

I could not help but giggle though when I heard the thing on the speaker about giving to Second Harvest. The voice said “Do you know 1 in 8 Tennesseans are at risk for hunger?”

Really? How does that jive with the news earlier this year that Tennessee jumped from 4th place to 2nd place in the nation as the Fatty State?

I am not a statistician nor am I good with numbers but somebody please explain who is right here??? Who is at risk for “hunger?” Define hunger”. Usually, the people I see whipping out the foodstamps at the grocery store do not look like they’ve missed any meals.

The whole thing just made me laugh.

When it comes to matters of a weighty sort, it irritates me to no end because now, I’m at a point where FINALLY, I do not obsess over how I am not as good as this person or that one because I’m not thin. I have birthed 3 children and although I’m not what I think to be big as a house, the weight charts say I am.

I now can boast having some high blood pressure to contend with. Everytime I’m at the doctor, they point out I need to lose weight. I especially love when the doctor’s nurse (who is about one and a half of me put together) calls and says, in regards to my blood pressure management to “Reduce your weight.” Right on, Honey. I’m so encouraged by you since you are so slim and trim yourself. It’s just effed up.

For years, I beat myself up and always felt as though I were inferior to others. The day I married in 1989, my dress was a size 8. AN 8! Yet, in my head, I thought I was as big as a house.

It might’ve been because several months before that, the first time I went out to eat with my future in laws, we were walking through Rivergate Mall. My then future and former sister in law, who is Japanese and weighed all of 100 lbs, and the rest of them, stopped to get a cookie at the cookie shop.

I did not desire a cookie at the moment. At that point, I was not big on sweets. My then future, now former mother in law asked me if I wanted a cookie. I said no. She said to me, with a sort of “Bless Your Heart” tone…”Yeah, I guess you have to really watch what you eat.”

WTF? That was June of 1989. I weighed 130 lbs and fluctuated between a size 6 and 8. I was also 20 years old and I wanted her to approve of me. I was convinced I was a lard ass.

She further convinced me of my heftiness a year after I married her son.

I ran into her one morning right before Christmas, again at the mall. She said “I want to get you some clothes. But not jeans. You don’t look good in jeans.”

Ahh…the Good Ol’ Days….nothing says “love” and “acceptance” quite like your mother in law reminding you you aren’t Twiggy.

I know I need to exercise regularly. I know this. I know I need to eat smarter. I know I have to think about my health, especially now that I’m over 40 and I don’t want to be 75 -80 years old and being one of those that say “If I’d have known I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself.” 

It especially hits home because the last few days, my thoughts have been with a wonderful family I’ve known since I was a small child who are, at this writing, sitting by the bedside of their 44 year old son and brother in a hospice in Ft. Smith, Arkansas,  waiting for him to die as a result of a brain stem stroke he suffered last week.

John was a good school chum of my sister. We went to church with them when we were really young. I was in Sunday School with his brother and later in the Franklin band with him and his future wife. As an adult, their father was my upline boss. They are such great folks and I’m so heartbroken for them with what they are going through. He was not what I’d call huge but he did enjoy food, wine and life in general. Probably too much.

In your 20’s and 30’s, you eat, drink, smoke all you want and it doesn’t seem to have a lot of effect on your body, at the time. Somehow, though, you cross that 40 Line, and you suddenly have to, like, THINK about all that.

These are things in my brain today…

Tap Tap: Is This Thing On?

Hey Y’all….

We’re still alive and kickin’ over here.  Mom is doing ok.  She had a little “spell” and had to make a detour back to St. Tom’s last week for some chest pain.  An arteriogram was done and she had some blockage but they’re going to watch it for the time being.  She’s back at the Rehab Place.  She’s bored outta her skull.  I tried to get her to go find her a rich widower.  She’s not enthused.

She has a couple people over there at the rehab place that are just the coolest.  One is a nurse named Sandra and the other is a feller named Insa who is from somewhere where they have beautiful accents.  Even when he says the word “Diarrhea” it sounds pretty.  Heh.  Dia-dee-uh.   Insa is the color of black ink and is unbelievable.  Mom calls him her “Pool Boy.” 

Thanks for your prayers, good thoughts/karma/vibes.

Mama and Them

I’m pretty worn out from this long day, but, wanted to get a couple things outta my head of stuff I saw and experienced.

First, Mom came through her surgery fine.  She underwent a cystectomy.   It probably took about 5 hours, a little longer than expected.  A couple of the lymph nodes right by the bladder had some cancer in them, but, the doc said the good thing about lymph nodes is they can be removed.  Her liver, spleen, etc all looked good.

We were kinda expecting some issues coming out of the anesthesia and breathing on her own (have I mentioned here that if you smoke, you might oughta think about quitting for times like this especially??).  We didn’t get to see her until about 10:00 tonight but when I saw her, she looked pretty good, considering.  They were giving her some blood and she was still out of it. 

I just got a text from my sister that said that the fun has begun…she was waking up a little and sitting up and not realizing she was sitting up, wanting to sit up.  Ahh…the joys of post-surgery conversation….Sandra’s staying there tonight and I’ll get tomorrow night. 

Thank you to the coolest Reverend around, Matt, who came by and it was about more than we could stand for our good friend Dean/Geega to show up.  Dean has been helping his wife of 52 years fight Multiple Myeloma.  That he sat with us in the waiting room today for a few hours….no words.  Thanks also to so many friends and family members who kept in touch, largely via Facebook, and offered support and prayers for us today.  It DOES make a difference. 

I’m a People Watcher and a hospital waiting room is the perfect place to engage in such activity.  There’s pockets of families waiting all over the place.  We had the Clampetts right in front of us and I swear, I couldn’t hardly look at them without breaking into laughter. (Yes, I’m bad. Youda laughed too if you’da seen them)

There was another family sitting across from us.  Didn’t really notice them at first.  A little after Matt left, I saw a doctor come in.  I could tell by the way he was walking and the look on his face that he was not walking in there to bring good news.

The doctor sat down and began talking with a man who looked to be about 55.  Suddenly, the man broke down and the young man sitting next to him, who I presumed to be his son, also broke down. 

Nothing gets to me like seeing a man cry.  These two men had their arms around each other, trying their best to comfort one another…then the other family members present began to cry.  The man told the doctor “I know you did all you could….”    

It was totally gut wrenching.  I felt like I was totally invading their privacy but you couldn’t help but look and feel the pain of what these people were feeling.   There was a guy sitting next to us, with his head buried in his laptop, but, he made the comment later how horrible that was. 

The doctor stayed and talked with this family a long time.  I didn’t see this, but, my sister said that when he got up to leave, he hugged the man and wiped tears from his eyes as he walked away. 

Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, other people congregated with this family, most of them in tears.  There was a lot of hugging, crying and even in the midst of the sadness these people were experiencing, I could not helped but be moved by the fact that they had each other.  You could see the strength that the man was drawing from whoever all those people were.  The two, grown sons also were strengthened and held up by everyone around them. As sad as it was, it was also a beautiful scene.

You could tell that major decisions were being made right there.  They’d alternate from being totally broken down to business-like. 

Then, a young woman came in carrying what looked to be about a year old baby girl on her hip.  This baby looked like the Gerber baby…beautiful little thing, just learning to walk.  When the baby showed up, the husband who was told devastating news about his wife, melted.  Why?  This was his grandbaby.  Everybody in the group went from crying to smiling when this baby came in.   Babies teach us a lot during times like that.

My own Manchild was such a baby when going on 18 years ago, at the very same hospital we were in today, we brought him directly from Centennial Hospital to St. Thomas to meet his dying grandfather before we even took him home to our house.   When death looms…babies are a reminder that life continues.   Just like the Manchild was for us back in 1992 (and STILL to this day because the Gene Pool dumped a lot of my Dad’s genes onto him)  this Baby Girl is a unique part of the grandmother who lay upstairs breathing only because of a machine.

At one point, the whole bunch gathered, baby included and all went upstairs together.   We all knew what they were going to do. 

I have no clue who these people are, their names…none of that, but  I can tell you this…I will never forget them, their faces, their pain, their tears, their love, their joy…Them.

Lookin’ Up…

Hey there, Chickens!

Things are lookin’ up over Collie Way…

I have a new job.  Another one. The other New Job was not something I could deal with.  I realize now I’d have done better to stay on the Unemployment instead of take that job (it paid SQUAT-not enough to live on and considering what all was expected of you…no thanks).  I guess I thought that it would be better to do that than NOT work at all. 

It was not a totally negative experience.  I met some interesting people, learned some things I didn’t know, it got me out of the house for 9 weeks and gave me something to do (I really think I’da ended up at the Nuthouse had I not had something to do) but it also gave me something I’d never had before-migraines, unless of course, that was totally coincidental that I started having those the same time I started working there.  I only get them around that “special” time of the month, which I really don’t have anymore.  A friend of mine calls it “The Phantom Rag.”  Heh. 

Anyway, so I’m going to work for this other company and you know how you feel stuff in your gut and know something’s right?  That’s how this is.  I’m very excited.  I will be working close to my Mom’s house, which is good considering she has her surgery this coming Wednesday to deal with this damn cancer.   I’m glad I’ll be close to her.

I still have rent to pay in a week.  I had done a little house cleaning and would love to do a few more this week if anybody wants it and I can swing it with Mom’s surgery and all that.  I’m not too worried about that sorta thing though cause God’s been awfully good to provide for me. 

Speaking of Mom….If praying is your thang, do pray for Mimi/Mom/Barbara/Bobbie/Mrs. Collie-whatever she is to you.  The prognosis is positive.  It’s gonna be hard on her beforehand not being able to smoke her Marblies or drink her coffee.   It’s a rough surgery at any age, but, at going on 75 with COPD, it’s not gonna be easy. 

Foster went to his first Training class this week.  Oh my gosh!  This is the coolest thing.  Miz Nikki knows her stuff and I’m amazed just since Monday, our first class, how Foster is really…I don’t know how to explain it really-it’s like he really wants to please me.   He does sooo good with the Sitting and with the whole Control thing with the food.  His biggest problem is mouthing and nipping.  I know that’s part of the whole working breed that he is and we’re working on it. 

Foster is also a very horny dog.  I notice when he gets nippy and irritating is the same time he is wanting to hump everything he sees.  Dr. Heather the Vet won’t neuter him til he’s 6 months old.  Nikki said I should find somebody who would neuter him sooner.  What to do?  

I’m noticing this week that he’s really getting affectionate towards me.  I mean, he’s liked me since the day I got him and all but he knows his name now, knows me and my habits (he hides under the bed when I get in the shower because he knows that usually means I’m going somewhere and he’ll have to get in the crate!) and the Potty Training thing is really going good.  I took him for his 2nd Vet visit yesterday and the Vet said his kinda breed is the kind that outsmarts their owners.  He is smart for sure.  He has doubled his weight since I first took him to the vet.  He weighed 7 lbs that day.  He weighed 17.5 yesterday. 

The other night, I had gone to Spin Class and I was tired and thought maybe we could skip our Daily Constitutional for just one night but Foster would have none of it.  He started the nippin’ thing and was staring at me, with that one Photo-1327ear up and one down thing, tongue hanging out as if to say “Um…aren’t you forgetting something”  So we went and walked later in the evening and he was very happy. 

He’s done something for me here lately that I can’t quite describe.  I don’t even mind (too much) when passing cars at the park stop me to ask what kind of dog he is.  That happens just about everyday.  He seems to make other people, besides me, smile.    That is very cool.

The Joys of COPD, 10 Year Old Logic and Potty Training

Life is funny.  I mean, sometimes ya just gotta laugh at it.  I’m so not up to telling the tale again but I will mention the whole job situation is different.  I should have good news to report in the next few days so for now, don’t ask me what happened.  It’s not that exciting and I’m trying to forget it and move on to the next page.

Mom didn’t have her surgery today as was scheduled because she got pretty sick with bronchitis and pneumonia last week.  She is doing better from that but still having a time getting her strength back. 

Need I say again if you smoke….quit.  Just do it and save your family and yourself lotsa trouble later on.  It just complicates everything.  Everytime Mom gets a cold, etc. she gets this horrendous bronchitis thanks to the COPD.  I don’t mind and I know my sister doesn’t mind tending to her or being there when she needs us to be.  It is hard on everybody and things all have to be shuffled around, sometimes late at night when she has a panic spell because she can’t breathe, as happened last Friday night at 9:35. 

#2 was most unhappy about having to go over to Mimi’s that late.  He griped and moaned and I gave him the Guilt Trip speech about “What would you do when you have one of your headaches (he has migraines) and me or Dad wouldn’t help you or do whatever we have to do to make you feel better?”   Eh.  Deaf ears.

Funny thing was though…Saturday afternoon, #2 got to thinking that the next day was Sunday and that might mean he may have to go unto the House of the Lord. This brought him some anxiety and he musta spent a lotta time conjuring up this suggestion he made to me…with a totally straight face..”Um, Mom….you know, Mimi might need us tomorrow so we might oughta stay home from church so we can look after her.”  I screamed laughing. Little stinker.

And here we have some moving pictures of Foster, who is getting bigger by the second.  We are seriously working on potty training (like Dr. Heather the Vet predicted, his early go-round at potty training was great but by 11-12 weeks they sometimes regress.  Foster regressed.)

We walked today out at the park in Hendersonville and I was shocked at how much trash and duck poop covers what could be a really nice park. Mayor Foster (ironic that name huh?) Hendersonville can do better than this.

Easter weekend has been grand.  I was reminded again today how the Old Rugged Cross makes a difference.  I don’t forget it per se’ but it’s good to see how knowing Christ makes a difference in everyday life for not just me, but, others.

I go from “training” to “Transition” in my work tomorrow.  That’s all I have to say about that.

Oh…my mom has had some stuff come up as a result of her cancer about this time last year.  She had a biopsy Friday as well as a CT scan.  We’ll know, hopefully, tomorrow what the Pathology thing says.  Ugh.

As for Foster the Wonder Pup…he is so fun.  He has met lotsa people this week.  Seems like everybody who meets him falls under his Foster-ish spell.  He’s still rockin’ and rollin’ on the potty-training. 
One of my favorite Foster pictures of the week…here with my nephew. Boys and dogs just go together.

payton-foster

 

n641539040_1635465_6307172

n641539040_1635464_6929481

Pulp Non-Fiction

I’m taking the scenic route through the Root Canal tomorrow morning.  I’ve had one before.  I’ll be glad to have it done cause it makes me nervous having a bum tooth.  I don’t remember the whole Pulp Removal being painful, contrary to what people make it to be.  Then again, a Mammogram is not painful to me and I did have a nearly 10 lb baby without any drugs so…

 It’s not too painful yet.  It has moments that it’s tender and uncomfortable. 

Is it EVER going to stop raining?