Leaving on a jet plane

I'll be back around Christmas time.

However, instead of being in bed right now, getting more rest for the trip, I had to get up at 5:00 (Mom works today) so my friend Becky can take me to a 7:45 appointment with my cardiologist. It's been over a year since I've last seen her, and she wouldn't renew my blood pressure med -- and I found this out yesterday afternoon.

A. I'm a busy person who now sees at least three specialists in addition to my GP. I can't keep track of who I saw when.

B. No one bothered to tell me when I should have a follow-up.

C. No one called me to make an appointment for a follow-up.

D. When the last refill was called in a month or so ago, no one (neither the pharmacy nor the cardiologist's office) called to tell me Dr. B "did it as a favor" and that I needed to make an appointment.

E. I am not a mind reader, people.

I need a nap. Please, dear Higher, give me the strength to get through this day without crying or yelling at someone just because I'm sleepy.

Happy birthday to MEEEEEEEE!!!

I slept late today -- didn't intend to sleep as late as I did (after 10:00), but I sleep SO WELL since I've been on oxygen at night. P called me while I was still getting up, and after I talked to him, I noticed I had a new voice message -- a call from my Aunty Poo at 7:00 a.m. (she always calls me on her way to work). I briefly checked my email -- some birthday wishes from two other managers of one of my online groups, with new siggies from one, and a happy birthday from my friend LaShonda's mom -- then Mom took me to lunch at my favorite taco joint. We took some overdue books back to the library, and since we were on that side of town, I dropped in on my friend Connie at the Renaissance Shoppe. I bought myself a new ring (an oval-shaped peridot set in silver with triquetras on either side) and a new necklace (a silver star outlining a silver spiral)):



Afterwards we went to the Alltel store because the keys on my cell keep freezing up and I have to have someone pull the battery to reset it. I'm three months past the manufacturer's warranty but nine months away from being able to change my phone for no charge on my contract, so basically I have to bend over, take it, and buy a new phone at full retail -- and the cheapest they have is $140. ::grumbles loudly:: I told the rep what I thought of their fancy little money-making scheme and left. I'll probably go to the McPherson store in a day or so and fork it over, but DAMN! ::grumbles more::

Then just a few minutes ago I got the best birthday present of the day -- Anita is taking up her master's degree again after an extended hiatus, and she's switching her focus to something she is very passionate about. ::squeezes the stuffing out of Anita:: I'm so proud of you, love!!!

And a delayed announcement that I am very happy about as well -- Lynlee is carrying a wee little tadpole for a gorgeous couple in L.A. Congratulations, honey! You always incubate such beautiful babies, and I'm so excited for you!

She would've been 34 today

Today started off pretty well -- my favorite attendant from the home health agency came to get me up, a little reading, checking email, a nice lunch with Dad (Mom's at work). It briefly passed through my mind more than once that today is my sister Stacy's birthday (especially since Dad made the comment after lunch that I am going to be an "old lady" tomorrow on my own birthday), but I didn't feel the usual sinking in my stomach or pang of sadness.

I should have known it was coming. I just didn't expect to sneak up on me in a song.

I was sitting here at the computer, looking up prices of trinocular stereo microscopes with included cameras and imaging software, not really listening to the music on my Real Player. Dad said he was going over to the neighbors' to mow (they're custom cutters and have been away most of the Summer), and I made sure he had plenty of water to take with him. That bit of distraction was all it took for me to notice the song that was playing.

"There You'll Be" by Faith Hill.

The song was popular around the time my sister died. I think of her a lot when I hear it -- not because of the coincident song popularity and her death, but because it fits our relationship. We were each other's defenders growing up. She was an extrovert who did whatever she wanted and everyone else's opinions be damned. And I learned from her without even realizing it. She supported me in whatever I did. Even at the height of our fighting days before she moved to Illinois, we both subconsciously knew that if one of us got into real trouble that the other would be there in an instant to help -- though you never would have heard me say it aloud, and probably not her either.

I sat here quietly, listening to that damned song. I don't remember when I started to cry, but boy, did I cry. It's been almost seven years, and it still hurts like a son of a bitch.

I suppose it always will.


There You'll Be -- Faith Hill

When I think back on these times
And the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed
To get to have you in my life
When I look back on these days
I'll look and see your face
You were right there for me

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there you'll be

Well you showed me how to feel
Feel the sky was in my reach
And I always will remember all the strength you gave to me
Your love made me make it through
Oh, I owe so much to you
You were right there for me

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there youll be

'Cause I always saw in you my light, my strength
And I want to thank you now
For all the ways you were right there for me
You were right there for me
For always

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky
In my heart there will always be a place for you
For all my life I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am, there youll be

Rant

My rant is something I forgot to mention in my recent hospital chronicles, and I don't know what brings it to mind two weeks later other than a general post-menstrual crabbiness exacerbated by a bad night's sleep. It involves the woman who was inserting my IV when I was admitted for the UTI. Mom was mentioning how my kidney stone had postponed my return to school in New Orleans, and the woman (I put her in her 50s, maybe early 60s) looked at Mom and said, "Oh, is there a special school there?"

I looked her dead in the eye and replied, with a bit of pissed in my voice, "Yes. It's one of the few places in the country with a Ph.D. program specifically for conservation biology." I only just managed not to tack on the end, "you bigoted, short-sighted, ableist bitch."

If she were 80 or 90, I could understand -- wouldn't make it right, but I'd know the social upbringing that had put it in her head. But this woman is not from a generation who should still be spouting that kind of BS. And she didn't even apologize -- just gave me a look that said she didn't quite believe me and left. I knew she was a callous bitch by the way she inserted my IV -- picked a vein and dug until she got it, no matter how much it hurt me -- but damn.

Kidney stones, lifts, and bonus book

Got my kidney stone removed yesterday. Not merely lasered to bits and I get to pee it out, but TOTALLY GONE. As Anita would say: "And there was much rejoicing." The whole thing was pretty effortless, actually. The nurse got my IV on the first try (nearly unheard of nowadays), they got blood on the second try for the obligatory pregnancy test (though it seems pointless to do it after I tell them I've been on my period all week), and I didn't wake up feeling like I was going to wet the bed (they had inserted a Foley, thank the Higher, while I was still asleep). I was, however, shivering uncontrollably when I woke up. They put this thing called a Bair Hugger on me -- it's two layers of paper (like a paper gown), and warm air blows in between the layers. Loved it. They also gave me Demerol for the shivering -- Mom thinks because it's a muscle relaxer, I think because it gives you that warm, fuzzy feeling. ::grin:: I can understand why people get addicted to that stuff. The nurse told me, "You might feel sleepy, so go ahead and sleep." In my head I said, "Just try and keep me awake," but all that came out was a dreamy "OK."

When we were leaving, I noticed a spot under P's van that I hadn't noticed when I got out. The lift had leaked hydraulic fluid. It barely had enough to get me in so we could get home. I have an email to my friend Jenni because her dad works on wheelchair lifts. I can't get back to NO until it's fixed because I can't get to the airport. I'm waiting just a bit anyway because I'm still on antibiotics for last week's "really nasty" UTI, and I want to make sure it's GONE before I go back.

And now -- the August bonus book of the month: Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill. I had an interest in reading this even before I learned that "Joe Hill" is in fact one of Stephen King's offspring. The premise of it put me in mind of a book my friend Brian has been working on for a while (not that they're the same premise exactly, but it kind of reminded me of B's style). The story was actually pretty decent -- a semi-retired rock star buys a dead man's suit and the ghost attached to it. You soon discover that the whole thing was set up by the man before he died and his oldest step-daughter as revenge for the younger step-daughter's suicide. Seems younger woman was an old girlfriend of the rock star who was prone to depression, and rock star sent her home when he couldn't figure out how to help her anymore. The plot twists later, and you learn things weren't what they seemed with the family. For a first novel, I give it a B+. The part that startled me came at the end. The rock star and current girlfriend wind up returning to where he grew up -- Moore's Corner, LA, supposedly near Slidell. I don't know if Moore's Corner exists, but the news reporter the rocker's aunt mentions does. Dennis Woltering is a reporter at WWL, the CBS affiliate in New Orleans. A tiny detail, but it lends authenticity to the story, you know?

July, July/August, and August Books of the Month

JULY -- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling One of my favorites in the series.

JULY/AUGUST -- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling Where does Rowling figure only two people died??? By my count, it was SIX on the good guys' side. The first didn't bother me too much because I wasn't emotionally invested in the character, but the rest . . . . ::bawls loudly:: Then the happy moments: Neville organizing the resistance, Percy's return, Neville's big act at the end. For a while, I wasn't sure what I was going to make of the book, but I was very happy with it from the Dynamic Trio's capture by Fenrir Greyback on to the end. For the movie, a lot of the material before the capture can be shortened without losing anything significant, but cutting much after that will damage the story -- though choreograhing the final Great Hall duels will be difficult.

AUGUST -- The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho A novel about a woman discovering the Great Mother and her trials in teaching others about Her. One interesting thing is that the book is not told from her point of view or even as a "biography" but rather through recollections of people who knew her or knew of her. This book resonated with me because I could see some of myself and my own journey in Athena (who the book is about) and in her teacher Edda. Some of my favorite bits:

Edda: "Try to feel good about yourself even when you feel like the least worthy of creatures. Reject all those negative thoughts and let the Mother take possession of your body and soul; surrender yourself to dance or to silence or to ordinary, everyday activities -- like taking your son to school, preparing supper, making sure the house is tidy. Everything is worship if your mind is focused on the present moment" (p. 149). In fact, the entire portion beginning on this page -- laughing at ourselves when we doubt, trusting that we are guided exactly where we need to go, daring to be different.

Edda: "You are what you believe yourself to be" (p. 152).

Edda: "The real Tradition is this: the teacher never tells the disciple what he or she should do. They are merely traveling companions, sharing the same uncomfortable feeling of 'estrangement' when confronted by ever-changing perceptions, broadening horizons, closing doors, rivers that sometimes seem to block their path and which, in fact, should never be crossed but followed.

"There is only one difference between teacher and disciple: the former is slightly less afraid than the latter" (p. 213).

Gypsy blacksmith, Edda's teacher: "Please, God, my Mother, don't give up until I've taken on the shape that you wish for me. Do this by whatever means you think best, for as long as you like, but never ever throw me on the scrap heap of souls" (p. 220).

Athena, when asked what she has gained from believing in a Spirit who is close at hand rather than an unreachable one far beyond the clouds: "The joy of being alive. I know that I'm here, and that everything is a miracle, a revelation" (p. 233).

Edda: "In order for us to liberate the energy of our strength, our weakness must first have a chance to reveal itself" (p. 235).

Athena: "Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is -- love simply is. (. . .) No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love" (p. 258).

I checked the book out from the library, but I think I will have to purchase my own copy so I can underline my favorite passages.

Quadruple UGH!!!

I got the stent placed in my ureter on Thursday, Aug. 2. When I woke up, I felt like the doctor had used my entire left abdomen as a punching bag, not to mention my kidney now hurt (hadn't really bothered me that much prior to that). Turns out my ureter is "really crooked" and Dr. M had a lot of difficulty placing the stent.

I woke up nauseous on Friday. I tried to keep my fluid intake up, but it's difficult when you constantly feel like you're going to yak everything back up. I laid down at 3:00, hoping a nap and some anti-nausea medicine I requested would do the trick. No such luck. I got up about 6:30, then went back to bed at 7:30. I was running a slight fever (99.7).

Saturday, I woke up feeling better. I ate a container of strawberry yogurt and had a nice visit with Jenni. I only tried to fall asleep on her once, but I don't know if she noticed. She filled me in on a number of details of Gina's last days. That evening, I ate a little chicken noodle soup (Campbell's knock-off -- yuck!) and went to bed at 8:00.

Sunday, I was still feeling OK, so I ate some peach yogurt. By 1:00, I felt like s--- warmed over and spread too thinly across a hot sidewalk. I was hot, I was cold, my kidney was aching, and I just wanted to sleep. I called Mom at work and told her I needed to "be seen by someone." She took off early (not TOO early, though, because her shift ends at 2:00) and raced me into the Mac ER (I never looked at the speedometer, I was too busy concentrating on not throwing up, but I'm pretty sure we were doing at least 80 MPH). Long story short, I had a "really nasty" UTI -- pus and blood in my urine, high white blood cell count -- and I was dehydrated. They admitted me overnight for fluids and antibiotics. I got 2-3 liters of the former and 2 grams of the latter by 9:00 p.m., and I felt like a whole new woman. They had put me on clear liquids for supper, but by 9:00 or so I was whining for toast. They let me try, and it was fantastic!

My GP Dr. P came to see me early Monday a.m., and he said he wanted me another day in the hospital for antibiotics. Then my urologist popped in to check on me (he is in Mac on Mondays for a urology clinic) and set my lasering for the 17th. ::sigh:: Looks like I'm missing at least the first week of classes -- but I'll be here for my birthday. Tuesday, Dr. P told me he wanted me 24 hours without a fever before letting me go home, and since I had run one the night before, I had to stay another day. Thus started the frustration -- I would be OK ALL DAMN DAY, but anywhere between 5:00 and 10:00 p.m., I would jump up to almost 101, stay there about half an hour, then drop again. I finally got out Friday evening, but only because Dr. P classified 99.7 "close" to a fever.

Saturday, Mom got my antibiotic prescription filled. I took the first pill in the late afternoon, and during supper I started feeling nauseous. I thought it was the brand of hot dogs Mom had chosen for our chili dogs, so I just ate the chili. About 10 minutes after supper, I threw up a little. About 30-45 minutes later, I threw up a lot. I went to bed and was nauseous half the night, but I didn't vomit again. Needless to say, I haven't taken anymore of the antibiotic. The pharmacist told my mom to keep an eye on the antibiotic because it is in the same family as one that gave me vomiting and diarrhea in January. The odd thing is that the stuff they gave me in the hospital is also in that family and I had no trouble. It is a 3rd generation (created to be more specific against certain bacteria) whereas the others are 1st generation (more general), so perhaps the change is just enough for me to handle. I'm waiting to hear back from Dr. P that he's called me in something else.

::sigh:: I'm ready to feel normal again.

I'm linked by someone "famous"

This last week has been, well, a drag. I'll post about it soon, but until then, I invite you to check out the comments Kay at The Gimp Parade was asked to give CNN about institutionalization of people with developmental disabilities in the 1950s and 1960s. Original CNN story here, Kay's response (and readers' responses to her) here.