Grateful. Rectified. Stupefied. Mystified.

I am so grateful I have this blog and read others blogs.  Just about the time I think I am going crazy, someone posts much the same thing on their blog, and I feel so much better!  

Like when it comes to family matters.  My (pretend) DIL told me, when she called to tell me about my son's cancer diagnosis.  "Your family is so weird!  You don't want anyone--even family members to know when you're sick.  In my family, we call each other every day.  If one of us doesn't have a bowel movement, we discuss it."

She thinks our family is weird?  Well, I don't know if I'd want our family to be that "open", but it would be nice if we knew what was going on.  As I said, "I wish I had known so I could have prayed specific prayers for Mark."  

BUT--just when I think I have the weirdest family on this earth, I read anothers' blog to find they have family much the same.  Medical tests being done without siblings knowing."Why didn't you tell us?"  "Because there's nothing to tell."

My Mark didn't tell anyone he had a prostate problem.  He was going to wait until after the tests and the surgery and then let his family know.  Of course, after the diagnosis, he got so scared, he didn't want anyone to know and feel sorry for him.
<My family has a real problem with pride!  You have noticed that I share that problem too?>

Just when I think that my Daddy was the meanest ever, I read anothers' blog that speaks of their problems with an emotionally absent Mother or a harsh Father.  Just when I get depressed because I was involved in spousal abuse, I read anothers' account of the same.

Just when I start to mourn the fact that my youngest daughter won't speak to me and sorta hates me, I read others blogs and they speak of siblings not speaking to them, or children who don't seem to care.

When Fred died and I was nutsy-cuckoo and thought I was losing my mind in the fog, I read of others going through the same thing.

As long as there is one other person who has experienced or is going through the same thing I am--for some reason, it makes me feel better.  

Misery loves company? or "Thank goodness, I'm not the only one.?"  I guess it reassures me that I am normal in my thought process and I can go on, because these other women have experienced it all and they are quite all right?  

At least as "all right" and "normal" as any human can be!
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My sister has a condition with Hemangioma.  She first had the problem when she lived in New York.
Hers are on her liver and cause a lot of abdominal pain.  A Hemangioma is (non-cancerous) excess collection of blood vessels that appear on the skin or internal organs.

They went away, or at least the pain did, until two months ago.  So she has had to have MRI's and ultra sounds, just to make sure something else wasn't wrong.  They could see the two scars from the original Hemangioma's, but they had not enlarged or come "back to life", so to speak.

She told me all this, before the tests and phoned me the minute she got the results.  Wonderful!  I worried less because I knew what was going on.  She didn't have to tell me and I never would have known, but I'm glad she did.  It renewed my feeling that she and I tell each other everything and it also made me feel that I am still of use and significance to her life.

This Thursday, she is going in for a colonoscopy--just to make sure the little twinge of pain she is having in her side isn't from something bad.  I'm sure it's not, but--I'm so glad to know she shared with me.

I am the kind of person who would rather know--even if it's something really, really bad, because I can deal with it better.  Feeling a "hint" that something isn't right and going on day after day and not knowing for sure, drives me straight up the walls!
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If you remember, I had written that every time I went out to supper with Pearl and Merle, one or the other of them complained about their meal and usually got it free?  I finally decided that I wouldn't go anywhere that was more than a burger joint because, it was sort of embarrassing for me for them to return perfectly good food and I really don't enjoy listening to all their complaints all during the meal.

Pearl told me last month that they wanted to take me out and treat me to supper for all the computer work I've done for her.  I kept putting her off until she acted sort of offended and I felt bad.  She called yesterday and asked me to go to supper with them tonight.

She wanted me to pick the restaurant and I refused, so Merle picked Outback Steak House (which just happens to be one of my best favorites).  I had a gift card from there with a bit of money on it and wanted to use it--it's over four years old and I would never go there alone to use it.  Plus what I wanted to order would probably be a bit over their price range.

They picked me up and we sped (60 mph in a 50 mph zone) up to Brighton.  Their car is 20 years old and has 350,000 miles on it.  It sits very low to the ground.  I sat in the back, about 12 inches from the pavement, with a hole in the floor and a piece of heavy plastic over it, as the car bucked and rattled along.  Thank goodness it didn't take us long.

Lobster tail and steak was on special!!  My two favorite eats of all time.  I had the kid check the amount left on my card = $23.67, so I figured I could order the 9oz Filet Mignon and steamed Lobster tail, which came to $30.95 and that way they'd only have to pay seven bucks for their treat to me.

First Pearl complained that the booth was too slippery and her feet didn't touch the floor and the table was too far away from her.  I was sitting opposite them in a chair so I slid the table nearer her.

Merle complained that he couldn't read the menu and I suggested he put on his glasses, which he did.  Then he complained because it was too dark to read--he had put on his prescription sun glasses.

Then they both complained that the bread had too crunchy a crust and the butter tasted sweet.

Our meals came and mine was heavenly!  That lobster tail was gone in six bites and my Filet was so tender, I could cut it with my fork.  My baked potato had half a pound of butter on it and the salad was so fresh and crisp!

Pearl devoured her sirloin, loaded baked potato, salad, and soup, and proclaimed it delicious!  (YAY).

Merle is very slow now and I could see he was having trouble cutting apart the bar-be-cue ribs he had ordered.  He finally picked up the slab and chewed a bit on the meat on the ends.  Then he finished his potato and salad.

Pearl said, "Don't you like your ribs?  You always order them when we come here."

"Too tough to cut."

When the waitress came with the bill, Pearl told her, "He couldn't eat his ribs because they were too tough."

The waitress said, "Oh, I'm so sorry.  I'll take to the manager and try and get that taken off your bill."

She left to adjust the bill and I thought to myself, "Not again!"

"Merle, I've never had ribs.  Could I take a taste of yours?"

He slid his plate over my way.  Then I noticed--he had been trying to cut the bone and not the meat in between the bones.  

I didn't say anything, but cut me a rib and gnawed on it and it was tender as could be!

Pearl said, "Are they tough?"

I slid the plate over her way.  "Not too bad, but I don't care for the sauce."

She cut a rib off and started eating on it.  "Well Merle!?  What is wrong with you?  These are melt in your mouth tender and really good!"

Merle said, "How did you get them cut?  I couldn't even cut them."

She slid the plate back to him and quietly said, "You didn't have your glasses on and were probably cutting the bone instead of between the bones! Don't eat any of that.  Just leave the plate there or they will charge us for your meal."

We got the bill.  Pearl's was 15.99 as was Merle's.  They took his off, so the bill came to around forty-five dollars.  With my gift certificate that means the total bill came to around 15.99--covering Pearl's portion.

We rattled and bounced back home and were gone exactly seventy-five minutes and that included the drive both ways.

They don't know how to "dine out".  It's get in there, get your food, woof it down and get out.

Thanks for the treat.

Never again!