tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72672968502448849192024-03-21T05:29:14.419-04:00Onward and Upward--Ever ForwardJudyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.comBlogger1383125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-39413167111601935262022-12-08T12:35:00.000-05:002022-12-08T12:35:22.737-05:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">When I was released from rehab, here, I thought I was done with rehab...period. I had not played well with the therapist's. I argued that my legs were longer than most and the equipment was too short for the distance built from foot to knee. They just kind of continued, forcing me to walk when I couldn't even stand. I just shut down from trying to do their exercises. They released me. I moved in.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Last week a new rehab lady came in and wondered if we could try some new rehab. "Sure." With a flat, polished board.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> She has taught me how to transfer from chair-to-chair, bed-to chair--flat surfaces like and today, she put me in a standing apparatus and not only did I stand and sort playing cards---I stood for 8 minutes. I feel renewed --emotionally.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-4086450164082008572022-12-01T13:46:00.001-05:002022-12-01T13:46:45.776-05:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Another chance?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For th</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">e last week or so, I have felt that my status here would be to get</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">weaker, stay in bed most of the day, than be moved to a different floor, fed, cared for and allowed to die. I feel like I have been making lists in my mind--things I have to do before I "leave". </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This morning, a woman from rehab came into my room. She said they had a meeting about me and they want to start rehab again. 3 times a week instead of twice a week.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I feel if I ever get a chance to walk again--this might be it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-63958555123626717912022-11-29T12:45:00.000-05:002022-11-29T12:45:02.657-05:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">For one tiny moment--a smile landed on my face,</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">it is as it is.</span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-5384534412572082542022-11-28T12:44:00.000-05:002022-11-28T12:44:13.189-05:00<p><span style="font-size: large;"> The last week of November. These last few months have gone so fast and I have spent most of them in hospital or here.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I went to the dining room for lunch today. "they" tell me if I don't socialize I will get even weaker and want to be alone more.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">HAH!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've spent the last 10 years basically alone and the last 3 years totally alone--except for therapy. I like to be alone, The ladies at the table seeded sane at least. I wanted answers so I ask--"how long did it take you to get used to living here?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span> #1. Mary--has a sharp nose, like a witch and a gray wig cut in different lengths. "I've neen here eight and a half months and I still hate it."</span><br /></span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: large;"><span> #2 Ann--quiet, composed, sweet smile. She said "I've been here 3 years...don't like it. I dom't anyone ever really gets used to it...knowing this is it for life...no matter how nice the facilities, we are still"captive".</span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-size: large;"><span> #Julia -- scowled atl the time--didn't say a word...not a word...just sat and look at me.</span><br /></span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span><span style="font-size: large;">That may or may not be her answer.</span></span></span></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-6443739626037614342022-11-23T12:41:00.004-05:002022-11-23T12:43:00.800-05:00<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Karen & Mark Grand Children</span></p><p style="text-align: center;">Bennie(3), Della(6), Eliana(18mo.), Neeco(1yr.), Harrison (4)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOo3egtsssGmVhqzVUvzBNF5_HiPVoR7A31wd0itGvuuUGPCPfbs-hoPvgqlgJCxx8dcpnYknq7_9dhFTbgkYl3hjRVad3GnZ-f6MqNuNhj6lNnuftoFFMbeMLKqpA0cVETnFYICG1GZh6XOlEBvUqNoz4XVAULWOrZIaXnAWhzuCyEgG2z133pso/s1280/greatgrand.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOo3egtsssGmVhqzVUvzBNF5_HiPVoR7A31wd0itGvuuUGPCPfbs-hoPvgqlgJCxx8dcpnYknq7_9dhFTbgkYl3hjRVad3GnZ-f6MqNuNhj6lNnuftoFFMbeMLKqpA0cVETnFYICG1GZh6XOlEBvUqNoz4XVAULWOrZIaXnAWhzuCyEgG2z133pso/s320/greatgrand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Daisy Josephine</div><div style="text-align: center;">4 hours</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQyGlSkxQCZ4dTmVidojwjI6ckOiMmF8Sr0WdMUE62z9rmp7D6YL_1fwsXVziWW3RJcO4wGMLCEPoSfRrz4G2FRTAuKA0-h1lzRrwL0GZW4r7ljZJ0GWJr1x9u8AueIMJQIVkcB-7UNP3SragiASFV7fVet2QCtJ0raCiRdrSV4SVpCn5QZWYaO78/s960/daisynew.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQyGlSkxQCZ4dTmVidojwjI6ckOiMmF8Sr0WdMUE62z9rmp7D6YL_1fwsXVziWW3RJcO4wGMLCEPoSfRrz4G2FRTAuKA0-h1lzRrwL0GZW4r7ljZJ0GWJr1x9u8AueIMJQIVkcB-7UNP3SragiASFV7fVet2QCtJ0raCiRdrSV4SVpCn5QZWYaO78/s320/daisynew.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-48571406971048539552022-11-22T16:23:00.000-05:002022-11-22T16:23:33.288-05:00<p> I've figured every way to die in this place--refuse to eat? Stay in bed, sleeping day-affter-day?</p><p>Doesn't work. I* aked to speas to a consulare, they don't have one. They have a social worker, but talking with her brings out the party line/ The Corporate slogan.</p><p>I know I'm lucky to be here This is the best AL continuum around--people mpve easily from rehab.AL to Long Term Care to Dementia care.</p><p>I think the initial schock is wearing off--it takes about 6 weeks. Every one agrees that the way I was introduced to the place, "This is where you will be living from now on. You won't go home again." Not being able to see mu Buddy cat again. look around at what I MIGHT want to bring here. I know something strange feeling went thgough me. I thought after, I may have had a stroke--because since, I have a hard time remembering and spelling...when the kids first set up my computer, I had forgotten how to use it.</p><p>I just know I need too find someone to talk to about how I get reconciled with this way of life.</p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-47466547285865326192022-11-14T11:31:00.002-05:002022-11-14T11:31:57.514-05:00<p> <span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Pretty much doomed to living the rest of my life in this old folks home, and no reason to get too enthused to break 100 years old/ it occured to me I should help the greater cause of the greater.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">Some of us wear BiPAP breathing machines. Haven't I read that they are suspposed to be cleaned? I've had mine 2 months--it has never been cleaned--I think they rinsed the water cup out once.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">I discussed with night-time hear nurse. She said they had already been tying to figure which department/which maintenance under-department and she thanked me for ,concern.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;">I am greatly assured as we strap on our masks and feel the deep slither of dirty/water salmonella, germ buggies slide to the deepest reaches of our lower lung lobes. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: times; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-21603220907712157122022-11-09T14:14:00.000-05:002022-11-09T14:14:12.324-05:00What's The Point?<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;">What's the point in coming back to a blog I haven't posted in, in 8 months?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">What's the point, when it is, as it is, and nothing is going to change?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Personality, I don't even see a reason to live. But, apparently, my innards are too healthy to quit.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">It all started August 16--I fell backwards in the bathroom. It didn't look or feel bad so I ignore it. Besides I had a 3 molar extraction the next day. On aug. 21, I fell==same spot in the bathroom. My PT determined that I would go to ER</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Off to the hospital...left (drop foot) is broken...4-5 and ankle and heel are sprained. Rehab at a swanky place called The Willows..lucky we know the director and a couple of nurses to vouch for us or we'd never got in here.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then the stress seemed continual:</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I woke up one Sunny morning and Maggie the Cat was lying dead in the middle of the floor. What do I do with a dead cat and no leg/muscle strength to take care of the situation? Suggestions to put in a bag out on the porch--93 degrees that day. Suggestion to just bag her and throw her in the garbage can--pick up the next day. Thankfully, my friends -Pearl and Merle's daughter Marge, who had been caring for cats while I was in hospital, came, lovingly wrapper her in baby, i had for her, put her in a vanilla scented trash-bag, into a small box and buried Maggie under the ornamental tree I had planted 3 years ago.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Back in hospital 3 days later for heart stress test and heart catherteriz ation. rehab Willows, back to hospital for breathing problems, rehab at Willows, home, hospital, rehab...then one morning, the kids, sister, doc, rehab people, all gather and with one united breath </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> state:"There has been a decision made by all of us, you are incapable of taking care of yourself, you will be staying here."</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Well, okay--but at least one time back home to go through things? Hold my Buddy cat, One night in my bed?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Apparently not, because they added reasons to it and stated it again. That's when I screamed and the nurse later described it to be as a "catatonic reaction" to a shock that came on too fast.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">That was a couple of weeks ago. For a long time I just laid with m</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">y eyes closed. I didn't respond or couldn't. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm still confused about the whole thing. Some one stuck in a place I don't want to be, but it's the best place for me. I have to stay here. where it's the same every day, the people are nice, the food is good...just to keep me alive as long as possible,</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I ask again.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">What's the point?</span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-58603979903556784142022-03-26T17:31:00.001-04:002022-03-26T17:31:42.408-04:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">My youngest granddaughter. 18 years old, taller than MiMI and a Volleyball whiz.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_JAOwWfEdc7jGaZujC80ygOFGySMY42d7X13_HLWlX4dyByhMRV-sV7obPRQSsf7mTBEwVH8osdI0TXNPF4Yru5jtRYnpU7PktCvKBHr9-KK_rz8K-NZIMmDGZBkQhSP9vyJTLMG36ypbyptnczgk1ddMlhYDbtkPmfN9-EXZkPNXkdBTOPBgII5/s1024/senior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_JAOwWfEdc7jGaZujC80ygOFGySMY42d7X13_HLWlX4dyByhMRV-sV7obPRQSsf7mTBEwVH8osdI0TXNPF4Yru5jtRYnpU7PktCvKBHr9-KK_rz8K-NZIMmDGZBkQhSP9vyJTLMG36ypbyptnczgk1ddMlhYDbtkPmfN9-EXZkPNXkdBTOPBgII5/w420-h560/senior.jpg" width="420" /></a></div><p><br /></p>When she was 1 year old.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80gLFEeur2lia6zcNgLJgZHTcOZ_Jnk1yo6Znf0SnRVmKMtAtbNpYsHeP_CxqdgV2V-0RAvgblJYz7vf__y1hBfSZOAq0uhvrmbvvNi6LQjNA3RibwEQ8MbUu5ICBYVDI7sB_nsINg3n1oRynVL-xlxl52zzH9Orz_nKV3U9O83l0hkjwCcA119kn/s238/bunny.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="224" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80gLFEeur2lia6zcNgLJgZHTcOZ_Jnk1yo6Znf0SnRVmKMtAtbNpYsHeP_CxqdgV2V-0RAvgblJYz7vf__y1hBfSZOAq0uhvrmbvvNi6LQjNA3RibwEQ8MbUu5ICBYVDI7sB_nsINg3n1oRynVL-xlxl52zzH9Orz_nKV3U9O83l0hkjwCcA119kn/w310-h330/bunny.JPG" width="310" /></a></div><br /><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-4466260654255775432022-03-19T09:22:00.003-04:002022-03-19T09:22:38.103-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbvkFh_XzURRW6wdKrZyifZboJ8vPcPoZhtE-_x-iclJZ9zaizJwXisnSJQkkVrg4pKoMIeVKgpgN0g0DxO2J7jMAo20e_5LndT7vlO1RkOEhqXcjMUFXIDoQTJwA7Nx__u-YZaXCah8EV2PniX7haSUMqsyJemR_agJSyhnbgD8R8UTQAuc_IVQ6x=s2532" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2532" data-original-width="1170" height="758" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbvkFh_XzURRW6wdKrZyifZboJ8vPcPoZhtE-_x-iclJZ9zaizJwXisnSJQkkVrg4pKoMIeVKgpgN0g0DxO2J7jMAo20e_5LndT7vlO1RkOEhqXcjMUFXIDoQTJwA7Nx__u-YZaXCah8EV2PniX7haSUMqsyJemR_agJSyhnbgD8R8UTQAuc_IVQ6x=w351-h758" width="351" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">My newest great grandson, Niklas,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">who looks just like his Momma.</span></div><br /> <p></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-16493549974529309122022-02-28T10:20:00.001-05:002022-02-28T10:20:36.582-05:00<p><span style="font-size: large;">I promised I would post something in this blog every Sunday. That didn't last very long. It is hard to post when I am just angry at everything. I have noticed that my lips are pressed together most of the day. When I see myself in the mirror, I look like a grouchy, old woman--I guess mirrors don't lie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had an appointment with an electrical physiologist--to discuss the results of my heart monitor test and talk about Pace Makers. My daughter Karen wasn't home so my sister and BIL offered to drive 25 miles down here to take me and my sister would go in the room with me and take notes.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The appointment was at 2:40. It started icing up at 2:00 and snowing by 2:30. BIL brought his truck for the bad weather and I had a deuce of a time trying to get up on the seat.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We got there, the electrical guy came in, told me my heart monitor test was fine...that I didn't need a Pace Maker--probably never would and come back to the Cardiologist in six months.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">COULDN'T HE HAVE DONE THAT THROUGH A PHONE CALL???</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It took sister and BIL over an hour to get home!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">==========</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The next week Tuesday, I had an appointment for a CT scan with contrast on my left Kidney. Karen took me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had an ultra sound on my Kidney's end of October. everything was fine. . I had a CT scan on my abdomen early November when I was in hospital, everything, including Kidney's was fine. The second time I was in hospital, end of November because of my fall, I had a contrast CT scan on my innards and they found a teeny something on my left Kidney. So I had to have this new scan.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was told to be there an hour early, because I had to drink Barium. Why would I have to drink that for a Kidney scan. We got there an hour early and finally at 10 after 3:00--the appointment was for 3:30, Karen asked the nurse when I was going to get the "drink".</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Oh--your Mom doesn't have to drink anything. You only needed to be here 15 minutes before your appointment."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">ARGGH!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So in I went. They popped an IV line in my arm--OUCH--I hate those things. They took 3 passes without the contrast, then warned me I would feel warm all over and think I had to pee, and did 3 pases with the contrast. I love the contrast--like how it makes me all warm inside.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Tech came in, removed the IV, asked me how I felt and because I was feeling relief because it was over, I smart mouth replied, "That's the closet I've come to an orgasm in 20 years!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She looked at me...old, skinny, wrinkled up woman and then she burst into laughter. Every thing had been very professional until my comment. I probably won't be able to go back there again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The test results revealed, a 1cc cyst--BENIGN--get it scanned again in 4 years.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">=======================</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So there is nothing seriously wrong with me. All my innards are working just fine. I should be happy and relieved, but I fell again the other day...landed on the cat food station which sent water and dry cat food up into the air and down onto me. I had to butt-walk across the kitchen floor, with hard, dry cat food embedding itself into my bare hind end--as I only had my nightie on--to get to my recliner where I could get on my knees and pull myself up onto the seat.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">All because of this dang dead-foot. </span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-75602413818623810832022-02-03T15:34:00.000-05:002022-02-03T15:34:43.600-05:00<p> </p><p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">I am not a spontaneous
person. I like to know who, what, where
and when and make a plan for that time frame..
I love schedules. I suppose,
growing up on a dairy farm, where schedules were kept—no matter what, has
caused me to be like this. Cows had to
be milked 12 hours apart. I don’t care
if it was the birth of your first child or the deathbed vigil for your
father. When it was milking time—you
were in the barn, milking cows.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">The first year of the
pandemic didn’t throw me off too much, I was still mobile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still had my schedule of chores around the
house to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certain jobs on certain
days and I could do 2 or 3 chores in a day—dusting, vacuuming, washing down
counter tops, working in the garden.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">Then I got this dang
drop-foot, along with balance issues, and there are some chores I just can’t do
anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am an independent person, I
could take care of myself—until the drop-foot. This has rattled me and made me
feel very unsettled<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">So, over the weekend, I
decided which chore I could adapt to fit my condition and make a schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that I could only do one major chore a
day, so I made an Excel spreadsheet (that’s part of the OCD I have) and made a
schedule for each day with one chore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
call it my BIG CHORE Day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">Today, I dusted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can do quite a lot of it sitting on the
seat of the Rollator.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The higher shelves
and stuff, I rest one hand on the Rollator for balance and use my right hand to
work with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I wiped down the kitchen
counters, using my legs braced against the lower cupboards.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">I can still bend over to
feed the cats and clean up their litter box and put dirty dishes in the
dishwasher for a future wash and I have no problem emptying the dishwasher—I
haul the dishes from the dishwasher, resting on the Rollator seat, to the
varying cupboards where they belong.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">The same way with
laundry…I load a load of dirty clothes into the bag under the seat of the
Rollator and wheel them out to the washer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When they are done drying, I sit on the seat of the Rollator, easily
reach in to the very back of the dryer, and fold them or put them on hangers
and then wheel them back into the bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-size: large;">I feel a lot better
emotionally, working from the schedule and knowing there are still things I CAN
do. I have to stay as independent for as
long as I can.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-8430112478767005632022-01-24T15:10:00.000-05:002022-01-24T15:10:06.230-05:00<p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">I watch a couple of cross stitchers who have their own You Tube channels. I think these women are nuts!!!</span></span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">They must be rich too because they go shopping every week.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">One has 50 projects "kitted" up, which means, in a decorative plastic zipper bag, (50 separate bags) she has 50 projects--pattern, fabric, thread all set to go...some over a year old...and not one stitch put in the fabric.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">They never seem to get any one project fully finished. They fully admit they can't stand to work on only one project from start to finish.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">Their way would drive me nuts! I am what they call a "monogamous" stitcher. I start a project and work on it until it is done. I might have a pattern, on the side, that I want to stitch up someday, but not until I have this project done. I might work on 2 projects at the same time, but one would be cross stitch and one would be crochet.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">===================</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">This past week was just horrendous!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">Smoke alarm going off in the middle of the night, for no reason. I finally got it twisted off the wall and threw it in the bottom of the clothes hamper.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">Furnace acting the fool. First it would come on about every 7 minutes, run for 8 and shut down. Then it got so it came on and only ran half a cycle, shut down, the blower would come on and blow only warm air. Then it got so it ran continuously, but could never get up to 72 to click off the thermostat.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">I called our electric company, that I pay additional each month for appliance service plan--no outlay of money from me for their repair guys.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">They told me the furnace hadn't been included on the plan. Thankfully, I had "minutes" and the name of the woman I talked to two weeks ago to have it added.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">A guy couldn't get out for two days...but when he did...he was marvelous. I told him I thought it needed a new thermocouple and he agreed, but informed me, they now call that part a "sensor". Before he left, he wrote down his personal cell phone number and said to call him if there were any more problems.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sure enough, two hours later, it was still doing the same thing, so I called and he came back.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">He inquired as to how old the furnace filter was, I told him I had replaced it the first of December, but on further checking, he could tell it was loaded with white like dust. I had purchased two small humidifiers first of the month...one for bedroom and one for living room. They do not have filters so that warm mist that comes out is laden with lime from this terrible water we have and had not only laid down a fine white dust all over the furniture...I had just dusted the day before, GRRR, but the furnace filter had sucked in enough to clog it up a bit. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thankfully, I always buy the filters in pairs so I had a new one for him to put in. Furnace runs great!!! </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have since ordered some kind of thingie to put in the humidifier water tank that is "guaranteed" to demineralize the water and prevent the lime laden misty-dust. We shall see.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">We haven't had much snow this month. I haven't been out of this house since December 30th, but had a hair cut appointment today. Guess what? We are under a weather storm advisory!!! Hair cut canceled. and I need to go to the bank before the end of the week.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It's not the driving---I grew up in Michigan, I know how to drive in snow, plus all the main roads around here are clear. The problem is getting from my front door to the car door and then back up the porch steps when I get home. I do not need to slip and fall on cement...if I'm going to fall, I want to fall inside, onto the nice, thick, soft carpeting.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">=============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Last week, I got a call from my PCP (primary care physician) that I need to go to little hospital up the road for a contrast ultra sound on my left kidney.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now I had one of those on Oct. 21 and everything was normal and fine. I had another non-contrast one the first time I was in hospital, first week of November. All was normal.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Apparently this "spot" showed up when I had a contrast one when in the hospital second time...after I had fallen and cracked a rib, bruised my right lung and had fluid buildup. I saw the report and figured it was just a bruise spot on my kidney. No big deal. Now, it sounds like a big deal.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I am not going to make the appointment for the scan until February because truthfully, I just can't handle it emotionally right now.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I wore that fancy heart monitor for a month and was able to take it off and will send it to the lab this coming Friday. I am assuming the monitor will show nothing out of the ordinary because I didn't have any pulse irregularities while I was wearing it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I'd just like to take one thing at a time. Maybe I can fake my way back into hospital where they could do all these tests all at one time, in one place and I wouldn't have to worry about getting back and forth or if my daughter has time in her teaching schedule to take me, so I don't have to walk so far from car to hospital lobby with my Rollator.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It has been a blessing to me to have Merle's daughter Marge come down every Monday afternoon to haul my garbage can out to the street. It is difficult enough for me just to get the can loaded up, as it is slippery on my porch and the can is unwieldy and hard to move around. She usually gets my mail for me to. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I don't notice if the mail delivery is bad or not...I only get mine when she brings it in...once a week. LOL</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">=======</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A Face Book friend--a kid that was in Pammie's grade and I haven't seen in 45+ years, sent me two of those reacher-grabber sticks. What a blessing!!!</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This morning the garbage pail was too far out for me to reach, so I grabbed the handle with that grabber stick and because the can has wheels, I could pull it right up to the open storm door and throw the bags of trash in it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It also is so finely tuned on the grabber ends that I can pick up cat hair fuzzies off the floor and pieces of dry cat food.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">When Walmart delivers my prescriptions, they just throw them at the top of the porch stairs. I can reach out with that grabber and pick up the package without having to go out on the porch and take a chance at falling when I bend over to pick up the package.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">This being disabled with mobility issues sure isn't any fun. There is not one thing I can do in my normal before movement. I can even put down the cat dishes and then pick up their empty ones with the grabber.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Every time I use that grabber, I ask God to bless that kid. Well, he's 62 so not a kid, but you know....they'll always be kids to me.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">===============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Like I said before..."If you can't do it. Adapt it." I've even learned how to sweep my kitchen floor by sitting on my Rollator.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: "Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-16525489682508462082022-01-14T15:00:00.000-05:002022-01-14T15:00:20.165-05:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">I keep telling myself that I am going to start blogging on a regular basis and yet...I think many of us are now on FB and post there about our raves and rants and are too tapped out to have anything cogent to blog.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On December 19th, we had our family Christmas up at The Farm, as so many generations before us...same house...where my sister lives. Not all my grands could be there, not all my children, but all my greats were present.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsiTVD-d4M2Uqzxz9-hhpMweToIDMHRA8IbtugEcTai4dDkncJYlkBv5k2rUTBenQZ7dRJ1tbHz_G8fcGwyg5SkBeVfyHHayKxXfP8XUDLhW-uZvqSeDxrynf-S3HjcPftT3gQxpWb-t08KPr2UXjwU2Yd7XuJ-MWDcTPArO-Do4PXJzJmxbu2ws_X=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhsiTVD-d4M2Uqzxz9-hhpMweToIDMHRA8IbtugEcTai4dDkncJYlkBv5k2rUTBenQZ7dRJ1tbHz_G8fcGwyg5SkBeVfyHHayKxXfP8XUDLhW-uZvqSeDxrynf-S3HjcPftT3gQxpWb-t08KPr2UXjwU2Yd7XuJ-MWDcTPArO-Do4PXJzJmxbu2ws_X=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">My sister played Christmas carols on the piano and we all sang. It was traditional and gave me a sense of peace and comfort.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Two days before Christmas I was fitted with a heart monitor that I have to wear until the end of January. Nowadays, they have a small transistor kind of sensor that sticks on my chest and sends heart beats and any kind of irregularity, to a small monitor that looks like a smart phone. They are checking to see if my heart goes into AFib. So far no irregular beats noticed.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjDAy3QXY1Qy550cF0QwOnUBJ0BYqUy03tPcsS5QquwNv1D4iPi8NEa0u2dqyptz38VbS2IIh_7lDwkdaESu6PxA3uPKsFAZpVF_fzTeozAyUqgJaCHzv6fxmX1eo4soVBtW6poUd8cDFfxR0vYU_FHIIvG8SnIfceQPbmL-PpjjTt5eBIY-18pwvj=s5152" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjjDAy3QXY1Qy550cF0QwOnUBJ0BYqUy03tPcsS5QquwNv1D4iPi8NEa0u2dqyptz38VbS2IIh_7lDwkdaESu6PxA3uPKsFAZpVF_fzTeozAyUqgJaCHzv6fxmX1eo4soVBtW6poUd8cDFfxR0vYU_FHIIvG8SnIfceQPbmL-PpjjTt5eBIY-18pwvj=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;">Then on January 5th, Karen's youngest Madeleine gave birth to another son. She decided to have a home birth...two midwives brought in a large tube--like a hot tub without the jets, and Madeleine delivered the baby herself! Labor took 4 hours. Karen was there to encourage.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">(Aside...I don't get how women do this. I didn't even want to watch my own kids being born..."Take that slimy baby over there, clean him up, put a diaper on him, wrap him in a blanket and THEN bring him over here for a snuggle and bonding." I did not witness either of my girl's giving birth.) Karen said because it was so calm and quiet, she felt a certain spiritual serenity about it all.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Niklaus Adeodatus Loretto Caspar John Stefan Gaudete von Buelow</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyljgPj8JdQ_7TCaSEN6MaV66SrcIiL14qQK6MoX_RFWn-0S8eNaE1rzEStdfapTYCgCY53dAW-iKJAQhBoCEY_HOxtU26Swy4wLtdJkwJIvwKCoqcUmUgKGiuLaBfO44A9Sjk6bAUyX3j61_yobv8INE2wKhwqpBu5_4Ii_YJFyXjjAyzBtrAUX9M=s1440" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgyljgPj8JdQ_7TCaSEN6MaV66SrcIiL14qQK6MoX_RFWn-0S8eNaE1rzEStdfapTYCgCY53dAW-iKJAQhBoCEY_HOxtU26Swy4wLtdJkwJIvwKCoqcUmUgKGiuLaBfO44A9Sjk6bAUyX3j61_yobv8INE2wKhwqpBu5_4Ii_YJFyXjjAyzBtrAUX9M=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><span style="font-size: large;">Welcomed by his 19 month old brother:</span><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Benedikt Leonel Lourdes Aquinas Anton Dominic Athanasius von Buelow</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0JL6_6jX5zxiej7PRC4S6I7uIUpmJU6BfJriXXJjh-09ZGWHqPAoXkp5QGFCNsHMqKZ7rIiRzlWJOiOVnpM4YXMwrdYzwWqwd-8oia0xF2lrSNn0AMgudd24U8EYmz2aAYVWcYdr6N3pMPaF7ak8iHcsYI95p_vFMT1ZEzVT-Q2t-ehLr8ah221mJ=s1440" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg0JL6_6jX5zxiej7PRC4S6I7uIUpmJU6BfJriXXJjh-09ZGWHqPAoXkp5QGFCNsHMqKZ7rIiRzlWJOiOVnpM4YXMwrdYzwWqwd-8oia0xF2lrSNn0AMgudd24U8EYmz2aAYVWcYdr6N3pMPaF7ak8iHcsYI95p_vFMT1ZEzVT-Q2t-ehLr8ah221mJ=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><p><br /></p><span style="font-size: large;">Karen with her fifth grandchild, in 5 years, 2 months</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdX8hczrORVOkqnveIphcufv_xHh1vQnays8VlfvBj14VjyrNUC-LUkfRfgL582WPd0qhAQGtzOQnCgGfr6AhbBvfM5AS4clotow5QaWK0GKTBIQMWPM_R55OdZ5p82kLqcZN70Ryo0emZhBt_G8hgtkW7VCd3RyZD47pUskJpV21VF4Uq0sBJHZA-=s1936" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1936" data-original-width="1452" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgdX8hczrORVOkqnveIphcufv_xHh1vQnays8VlfvBj14VjyrNUC-LUkfRfgL582WPd0qhAQGtzOQnCgGfr6AhbBvfM5AS4clotow5QaWK0GKTBIQMWPM_R55OdZ5p82kLqcZN70Ryo0emZhBt_G8hgtkW7VCd3RyZD47pUskJpV21VF4Uq0sBJHZA-=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Why all the names you ask? I have asked the same. Daddy Stefan comes from a family of 7 boys--Very traditional, German Catholic family and that is just the way they do it. We call the oldest Bennie and I suppose this one will be Nick or Nickie?</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">===========</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"If you can't do it. Adapt it."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've been doing a lot of that lately. So many things I can't do anymore with these mobility issues, but I am learning tricks to get things done with my Rollator walker.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the morning, I put a dishtowel on the seat of the Rollator, get the wet cat food into two feeding dishes, fill up their dry food and water dish and roll it over to their feeding mat. Thankfully, I can still bend over to put the dishes down on the mat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So I don't have to bend over and reach so far back into the dryer, I sit on the seat of the Rollator, which puts me on a level where I can get the clothes out of the dryer, fold them, or put them on a hanger and then get up, lay them on the Rollator and walk them into the bedroom to put away.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I can easily dust tables, entertainment/fireplace and even lower book shelves while seated on the Rollator. and yesterday, I found I could vacuum this office space, while seated.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It took 45 minutes of moving stuff, vacuuming, moving stuff back, vacuuming, either seated in my desk chair or the Rollator...10 whole feet of carpet, but I got it done!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"If you can't do it. Adapt it."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There is a warning, "DO NOT MOVE ROLLATOR WHILE SEATED" or I'd be using it like a wheel chair. I suppose they are worried about the contraption collapsing?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">===================</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am waiting for January to get over with and then will get back into physical therapy. Right now, our (Michigan) Omicron numbers are the highest in the United States and my grandchildren doctor's, who work in ICU in a hospital on the west side of the state, tell me that the hospitalizations are higher than they've ever been. I figure if I stay in my house, I have little chance of picking up a bad buggie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The same as last winter--hibernating until the worse is over and then peeking my nose out of my den.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If you can't do it. Adapt it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-53557104656743809402021-12-01T22:07:00.001-05:002021-12-01T22:07:42.060-05:00<p> 4weeks ago--Nov. 7th--11th</p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I’ve felt rotten for a few weeks. I had seen the Cardiologist P.A. on Oct. 21,
and they added a new BP med to lower my BP.
I told them that I thought it was already low enough, as I was having
feelings of light headiness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">So last Saturday, I sat in my chair all day and watched
football games. Sunday morning I woke up
and felt so weak and faint. I took my BP
and saw it was 92/45—and my heart rate was 140.
Usually I can feel a high heart rate in my neck, but I couldn’t feel
this.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I decided I had better call 911. I knew I had to let my sister know, but at that moment, I couldn’t remember
even how to use the phone to get her number.
Someone said, “Why would you post that on FB?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, I knew my sister would see it that way. Like I said I was, “out of it”.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">When I got to the ER, my BP was 89/38—they wondered how I
was still conscious…AND I was in active AFib.
High heart rate and it was tap dancing all over the place—140 to 100 to
150 to 108.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">My daughter-in-law had thankfully seen the FB post and
texted my sister and daughter’s. My
daughter Jennifer, way out in New Jersey, called two of the local hospital’s
until she found me and called the ER department and insisted she talk to
me. I did not have my cell phone with
me—never even thought about it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">The ER was full—all beds taken and people waiting in the
waiting room to get in. After 12 hours
of laying there, they finally had a bed open up on the “heart” floor and I was
admitted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I had gone through this AFib nonsense 6 years ago and the
med they gave me then had worked just fine, until the Cardiologist decided to
stop it and put me on 3 different ones.
BTW—I have a new cardiologist
now.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">So, back on the original med—Metoprolol—to get the BP
stabilized and then a cardioversion yesterday morning. That’s where they shock
the heart and it goes back into normal sinus rhythm—takes about 20 minutes from
start to finish, no big deal—I had it 6 years ago. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I did have fun in the hospital—with me, the more concerned I
get, the more I joke around, so the nurses/techs/residents, thought I was their
comic relief for the week. Of course, I
knew what to expect. One MD told me,
“You are the most knowledgeable patient I have ever treated.” I wanted to reply, “Yeah Doc. The better to know so you can’t kill
me!” But I didn’t say that. Like I said, I actually had fun and if it
weren’t for their insistence to poke needles in me to check blood levels, it
would have been a lot more fun.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So—end result. They
took away 4 BP meds and kept me just on the Metoprolol, which had worked so
well for 6 years and 2 months and sent me home.
I’m fine. Worn out of
course. Back hurts from laying in that
hospital bed, but no heart flutters, which is a good thing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">===========================</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Last Sunday-yesterday</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">First of all, if someone tells you that COVID is still
rampant—believe them. I just got home
from a hospital with over 500 beds—about 75 beds per floor—and they have 3
floors devoted to COVID patients only, plus over flow in their Emergency
Department Trauma Center…about 250 COVID patients.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Adventure 2.0: I had
been feeling so dizzy and tired. I
thought it was because my BP was high, than low and all over the place…not so
and not related to what I was in hospital for Nov. 8-11<sup>th</sup>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">I was short of breath on Saturday, Nov. 27<sup>th</sup>, but
there was an important football game on TV, so I decided to get through the day
and if I didn’t feel better, to call Sunday morning. I woke up at 2:00am Sunday morning, fighting
to breathe. If I sat upright in my
chair, it was easier, so I sat in my chair, trying to nap for the next few
hours. I wasn’t going to call anyone in
the middle of the night nor early Sunday morning, so at 8:30, when I realized
that I needed to get help, I just posted a quick FB post, knowing that my DIL
or sister would see it and text the other kids, by then, I was shaking so hard
that I couldn’t have made a phone call to anyone and have to explain—911 was
the best I could do.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">It took the ambulance guys about 8 minutes to get here and
determine that I should go “in”, I fought hard once again to have them take me
to the “small hospital” in Howell, rather than the Main hospital 35 minutes
away—where they wanted to take me. I won
the battle and we arrived at a once again, over loaded ER—people in beds all
along the wall, every ER room full. They
did a chest x-ray and came in to tell me they were transporting me down to the
“mother ship” big hospital—as the hospital in Howell is a satellite hospital. Never been in an ambulance before and now I
got 3 rides in 3 weeks!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">We arrived there an hour later, into a bigger ER department
with an over-flow in their new Trauma Center—all the rooms there were full with
17 of us on beds along the wall. The
next few hours are kind of a blur—bright lights—noisy—so much activity. They did take me for a chest scan and by
midnight, I was in a room “upstairs”.
More people coming in to check me out—vitals and then at 2:00am, some
doc prescribed that liquid LASIX be put in my IV line. Lasix—a water pill, at 2:00 am? I felt so bad for my nurses and tech, because
I had to pee every half hour and they had to help me to the bathroom. I told them I could manage with the walker,
but “hospital policy” says…….and they had snuck an alarm pad into my bed, where
if I got up, because of course, I tried it…loud alarms sounded and 2 quite
large, male techs showed up, scolded me and told me they were required to help
me to the bathroom. GEEZ!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Monday was a day of tests—another Echo Cardiogram and the
Doc told me my heart was very strong and healthy and “it won’t be your heart
that takes you out!”—HAH. Then another
tech and wheelchair showed up at my door and the words I was scared to hear,
“we are here to take you for a needle aspiration of your right lung, you have
fluid build-up—no wonder I couldn’t breathe!
I had heard about needle aspiration—they stick a 6 foot needle in your
back, through the ribs and into the lung to drain the fluid, so I was scared,
but, it wasn’t bad at all. I silently
prayed, “Dear God, help me be brave” and He did. NO—the needle isn’t really 6 feet long—it’s
pretty long, but………..<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">600 ml fluid off that lung—helped with my breathing. The fluid was clear and I asked if I had any
lung problems like COPD or anything and the needle tech wondered why I would
ask. “No you don’t have COPD or chronic
bronchitis…no stenosis…your lungs are in very good shape, why did you think
otherwise?” “Oh,,” I replied, “because I
smoked for 60 years.” “WELL, YOU’D NEVER
KNOW IT BY LOOKING AT YOUR LUNG SCANS.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"> Tuesday noon, the
head of PT came in to inform me I had a fractured right scapula (shoulder
blade). “I do not!” I said. He went on to try and convince me that the
fall I had taken on the day after I got home from my first adventure, had
broken my scapula and caused the retention of fluid in my “bruised” right
lung. He said the fracture had showed up
on the x-ray from the Howell ER. Now I
had fallen, but I didn’t tell anyone and <i> </i>I (thought) I had recovered because I had
no pain for the last couple of weeks, but I do remember someone asking me if I
had fallen recently and I said, “Yes”, but didn’t explain further. “You know,” I said, “the equipment at Howell
is probably older than what you have here, maybe you should take another x-ray
because……I do not have a broken shoulder blade!”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">So he put me through some tests with my right arm and I did
all of them really well. He just stood
and stared at me. Then he wheeled me
down to the PT clinic and had me walk around with a walker and up and down
steps and checked my right shoulder and……..I had no pain. Then he said, “I’m going to notify your
Doctor, write you off and have you released this afternoon.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">What a dummy I am! I
know very well that a fall can cause internal bleeding or fluid build-up. Heck—my Daddy, at age 92, died a few days
after a fall when his kidney area filled up with blood and his kidneys couldn’t
get rid of it and his kidneys failed.
Why did it never occur to me that I could have a similar problem? A lot of “olders” die from falls every year
and it’s usually from internal injuries.
Why did I not think of that?
Because I can’t get it through my head that I AM OLD and if there is no
pain, I think everything is okay.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">So—it took me 3 ambulance rides, a myriad of scans and
procedures to find out—the earlier hospital stay and this one were entirely
unrelated—this was caused by a fall that I didn’t pay attention to AND my
heart, my lungs and all other innards are really in very good shape.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once again, I found my hospital stay to be interesting and I
actually had fun. More social
interaction than I’ve had in nearly two years. LOL.</span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-31639119141421422062021-10-25T09:04:00.008-04:002021-10-25T09:04:58.391-04:00<p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> spilt pop on keybor--no post this Sun,y</span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-13263536024944696782021-10-17T17:29:00.003-04:002021-10-17T17:29:53.655-04:00<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"> <span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;">I know it's Sunday and it's a sunny day and I shouldn't complain about anything, BUT--</span></span></p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">for some reason this month has got me down. I feel over-whelmed and just trying to get through each day.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">It all started with having to get that new toilet, which took a big chunk out of the money I had put aside to fix the muffler on The Car.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Last week, I had to get a blood draw, which involved trying to climb up the many steps to the Doc's office. I had PT on Tuesday and PT and a Doc appointment on Thursday--this time I used my walker and struggled up the inclined ramp at his office.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I didn't get to drive out to The Farm on Friday like I had planned. It was a day of continual torrential rain. It has been 19 months since I've "been home".</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">This week, I take my car in tomorrow late afternoon to have him work on it Tuesday. This involves working around my daughter's schedule so she can meet me there and bring me home. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I canceled my PT appointment for Tuesday.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Hopefully The Car will be ready for pick-up on Wednesday, which will involve finding out my daughter's schedule so she can take me over to get it. Lord only knows what it's going to cost.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Thursday I have an appointment at 11:45 for a renal artery CAT scan to make sure the new meds I am on aren't damaging my kidneys. This will involve wrestling my walker out of the back seat of The Car and using it to walk, quite a distance, into the little hospital, and then wrestling the walker back into the car. Thursday afternoon, I have a dental cleaning, which will again result in wrestling with the walker and going up the inclined ramp. I canceled my Thursday PT, but get to do that on Friday.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I cancelled my hair cut on Monday...it can wait.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">On Wednesday of that week, I have a follow-up appointment at Michigan Heart, in the little hospital to make sure my new BP meds are working. I KNOW they are working as my BP is TOO low now, which makes me tired.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="background-color: white; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">AND to top it all off? As I got up this morning, I noticed one of the cats had barfed on the living room carpet. Not by a piece of furniture, where I'd have something to hold onto as I bend over to clean it up and put stain remover on it, Oh No--right in the middle of the living room. I guess I can pull my rocking chair over and sit on it and bend over to get that mess cleaned up.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">=========</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I'm just so frustrated and tired and actually angry. My dead foot isn't getting any better. There may be no fix for it and there is NO fix for my back problems.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I don't pray for a cure...there are so many with worse physical problems than me, and I pray for them. I pray to be more grateful and positive and I am grateful. At least I can still stumble along and am not in a wheel chair. I just get so tired and depressed.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">=============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Okay--pity party rant over. I won't post about any of this again--unless it is on a positive note.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">======================</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Remember the photo of my new toilet?</span></div><div dir="auto"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #050505; text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzdhKz2bPydYWbXHH07liB5QVFTk6lliVIVnWjmyCZ7TJmItNAQFE_df6ayxPnIwfFi8UpSyLiBkEm-ngYjMgQ2bErD7Lfk5oDEXCBp668eI4zzPzKPlvXQ1SioXmM0pv6ijYUIbrGlA/s5152/IMG_5868.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMzdhKz2bPydYWbXHH07liB5QVFTk6lliVIVnWjmyCZ7TJmItNAQFE_df6ayxPnIwfFi8UpSyLiBkEm-ngYjMgQ2bErD7Lfk5oDEXCBp668eI4zzPzKPlvXQ1SioXmM0pv6ijYUIbrGlA/w387-h290/IMG_5868.JPG" width="387" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><span><div style="color: #050505; font-family: courier; font-size: x-large; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">This is one I wish I had. LOL</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXp1R3U3Px3F_hy3usxgSsj1PxYEAZ5eaVkZ7VYBtriwkEMzYW0IcvDTDNLigmAQKEQcu4idmd5c5cZFdCe0mRn0qfd4kXZcQPY7apcvb_n7UrOAeE_GOekM-aolQgXhqyYb1zR_H6OMk/s1193/forblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1193" data-original-width="843" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXp1R3U3Px3F_hy3usxgSsj1PxYEAZ5eaVkZ7VYBtriwkEMzYW0IcvDTDNLigmAQKEQcu4idmd5c5cZFdCe0mRn0qfd4kXZcQPY7apcvb_n7UrOAeE_GOekM-aolQgXhqyYb1zR_H6OMk/w295-h362/forblog.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: justify;">===============</div></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I order my non-food products from the grocery store and have them delivered. The other day my "shopper" called to tell me there was not wet cat food in the 28 can cartons and there was no cat litter.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">Thursday my daughter took my food card to get my food groceries and call me half way through the store to tell me some of the items I wanted were not on the shelves.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">"Mom", she said. "This is scary...so many shelves are just bare."</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I guess it's getting like this all over the country. Not just items from foreign countries stuck on those cargo ships out at sea, but locally or USA made items and food that is manufactured right here in Michigan. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">We are 19 months into this pandemic and I expected short supplies when people were hoarding, but that crazy stuff is now over. Most be a trucking issues?</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">============</span></div><div dir="auto" style="color: #050505; text-align: justify; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: large;">I'm not real fond of this world we are living in right now.</span></div></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-381519701306100222021-10-08T14:39:00.001-04:002021-10-08T14:39:32.303-04:00<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I am on some kind of roller coaster of emotions.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">My drop-foot isn't getting any better. I don't feel safe walking with a cane. My balance is atrocious. Even with the PT twice a week for 6 months now, I don't seem to be getting better.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I got the car. Had a gift of money to fix the muffler on the car. Then insanity broke loose.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We have terrible water here. Rust and calcium to the max. Things wear out quicker than normal. I have had issues with the innards in my toilet tank for years. The chain that pulled up the ring that pulled up the flapper to flush, kept rusting out. I was capable enough to buy a new chain and fix it or use a wire and paper clip to fix it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Three weeks ago, everything inside the tank just broke down. Rusted pieces of this and that lay on the bottom of the tank. I called a guy who does a lot of work in the park here and he gave me an estimate for repairs. The innards alone and labor would run near $200.00.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Actually, I needed a whole new toilet as the one I had was a bit too low and made it very hard for me to get off. So he found a 17' high toilet. I wanted the 21" high, but it was $500.00, just for the toilet.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It took him 2 weeks to schedule me in. It didn't take him an hour to get the new toilet in. I had purchased a sort of chair like frame--arms--to make it easier for me to push myself up. They were under $40.00 and they work well.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">His invoice? $450.00. He then gave me $25.00 off because I paid him cash--sorta under the table?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">My bathroom now looks like it was built for an elderly, disabled person, which ticks me off, but I suppose is true.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2eUkA7OsC4cWGvip3DAoUkIpSB9fv8BXYHI_oDlgCZsWrzVnTTfTohD5ZtX38Pohb3Rpc298E3sRi7O0v0YNQnS1pE1m7AhWkQ-mHyQUuPMOqQ90U7o5JZJs8VB8kAPAPBg0MPaXBqE4/s5152/IMG_5868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3864" data-original-width="5152" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2eUkA7OsC4cWGvip3DAoUkIpSB9fv8BXYHI_oDlgCZsWrzVnTTfTohD5ZtX38Pohb3Rpc298E3sRi7O0v0YNQnS1pE1m7AhWkQ-mHyQUuPMOqQ90U7o5JZJs8VB8kAPAPBg0MPaXBqE4/w407-h306/IMG_5868.JPG" width="407" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Now, I'm wondering where the $$$ is going to come from to fix the car. Probably $250.00 for new muffler and labor.</span></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Ya know? Somedays I just want to go to bed, refuse to eat and turn my back to the door and ease on outta this world! I know a few people that have done that.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">===========</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: x-large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Closure?</span></span></p><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It's been 4 strange months emotionally for me. I sit in this computer room a lot and the windows face the street. Dar's house is kitty-corner, so every time I look out the windows, there it is.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I have had a hard time even imaging she is gone. I look up and expect to see her car pull into her drive or see her and her Dad walking out to go somewhere or look up; to see her headed over here.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Her house was put up for sale and sold quickly--as do most homes in this park. Her kids had a garage sale last week. I didn't go over. All this past week, her oldest daughter and her partner have been cleaning out the house. People came to buy furniture.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I'd watch as the women went in and out--all day long--carrying loads of stuff--filling up the back of their SUV and coming back with it empty. Donating to Salvation Army, I supposed.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Yesterday, a truck with a box trailer pulled up in front and two men started hauling out large items. Perhaps for a consignment sale? Perhaps to put in an auction?</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I felt a great urge to go over. I just wanted to say good-bye to her daughter...that I will never see again in my life. I got my walker out of the back of my car and went over.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">She invited me in and a kind of shock hit me. There on the living room carpet were left the imprints of where the couch had sat--her chair, the chair I always sat in, her Dad's chair. He died last week at the age of 100 and 4 months. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The empty house echoed with the sounds of our words.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">It hit me. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">We hugged, our good-bye words came from thickened throats and tear filled eyes.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">========</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I saw the real estate woman go in the house this morning.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Now, everything will be in reverse--with trucks and vans bringing in furniture.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I hope nice people bought it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">======================</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">On a lighter note: My youngest great grand baby that was born prematurely in April. She is six months old now and has such a precious personality. Those big eyes remind me of my daughter, her grand mother Karen, when she was that age.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4n24Hc0VCtVEnoZmZU10L9Hp17shCZNZRuz13Bk7HPy1gA800zMO3FJAYJbtglishUOnwrkLmTgCCGBbAwPSdq1kU5O4Mk6ZHarkrs_rz0FPCOtcyERilerp6zEpTVvGxZAXFzqlF8Ok/s1440/6+months.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="1440" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4n24Hc0VCtVEnoZmZU10L9Hp17shCZNZRuz13Bk7HPy1gA800zMO3FJAYJbtglishUOnwrkLmTgCCGBbAwPSdq1kU5O4Mk6ZHarkrs_rz0FPCOtcyERilerp6zEpTVvGxZAXFzqlF8Ok/w406-h406/6+months.jpg" width="406" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-57662544301245883982021-09-12T11:53:00.001-04:002021-09-12T11:53:38.942-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjerUvvNbEebPIXtOhrnkUwSx1I1AmqAyZHZKnKKnnyiiHHKF7ebae_A3c8Jn79lUwdK3-mD_dCJd-Wqp2qR7lsUiNDS7AopDf6_61Ql-Bg1TP_oh89Bzl7xuYeEUcxlbop3V3xESIL0n8/s960/012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="521" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjerUvvNbEebPIXtOhrnkUwSx1I1AmqAyZHZKnKKnnyiiHHKF7ebae_A3c8Jn79lUwdK3-mD_dCJd-Wqp2qR7lsUiNDS7AopDf6_61Ql-Bg1TP_oh89Bzl7xuYeEUcxlbop3V3xESIL0n8/w390-h521/012.jpg" width="390" /></a></div><p><br /></p><span style="font-size: large;">Well, what can I say that is worth reading?</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ever since last fall, when the mechanic told me that my car was "near death" and I shouldn't really drive it because of the power steering fluid leak, I have only driven 4 mile round trips--to the store and now to PT twice a week, which...oh yes, continues.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have a condition called Drop-Foot. Who knows what caused it or when/if it will ever get better. Then April 1st, my left foot started swelling. "They" ruled out it was caused by the Drop-Foot as that is not one of the side effects.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My Doc thought I had dropped something on my foot...in July, he declared the swelling was caused by the hot weather. That Idiot is wrong on both parts.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Coincidentally, this swelling started exactly two weeks after my Johnson& Johnson vaccine shot.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have been researching and reading and think I have come up with my own self diagnosis--which I've always been pretty good at.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lymphedema. Not serious, but no cure. Lymph nodes in the upper legs aren't draining away the fluids like they are supposed to. I am now wearing compression socks--which take all my strength and prayers for help, to put on!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">I will bring this up when next I see the Idiot Doc.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">============</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">As for the car, since last fall I have had 3 deals on getting a different car fall through. Finally, a friend of my my daughter Karen told her they were selling their daughter's car. Then they changed their mind. Then they changed their mind again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">My car is 23 years old. This car is 12 years old, but looks like it survived a war. Bumps and bruises on all sides. Paint missing. Every time their daughter bumped into something, they didn't fix it as their insurance would have gone up. It needs a muffler, hubcaps and a driver's side headlight cover. BUT..........</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">it runs great! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They could get $800.00 from the dealer as a trade-in, but because it was Karen's friend and their daughter is a friend of Karen's daughter Maddie, she said, "If it's for Grandma Judy, I want her to have it."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So I had $500.00 to my name....and that's what they said they would sell the car for. Great, but how to pay for the needed muffler, hubcaps and headlight?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I opened my mail yesterday and there was a greeting card and inside that card was 3, crisp, new smelling $100.00 bills!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I HAVE AN ANGEL!!!! HER NAME IS JUDY ALSO. SHE SAID SHE JUST WANTED TO HELP.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My Gosh! How do you thank someone for a gift like that?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now I can get the car fixed and hopefully, take a drive up to The Farm. I haven't been there in 18 months and I am so homesick.</span></p><p> </p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-76665517105914517582021-08-20T20:22:00.000-04:002021-08-20T20:22:10.666-04:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Daughter Karen had a party August 1st for all the birthday's and anniversaries for that month. We have a lot.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I got to meet my newest great grand girl. Eliana Katherine. She was born pre-maturely April 4 and only now weighs 8 pounds. It was like I was holding a new born, but she was alert, smiling and cooing at me like a 4 month old.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_HgT1suk0llG3aNpDtOiQ4yu-Qh3YJI9wmChtaTlVF0kForwLtuElnt2TlMW-RIQRizopcBCdVK0zP-9I75rvdNiMGEFxoPiE6ESeD9MA4b5WL6BB5HXN_lSEmD3fz8gmAxCcy4Gvnk/s2048/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_HgT1suk0llG3aNpDtOiQ4yu-Qh3YJI9wmChtaTlVF0kForwLtuElnt2TlMW-RIQRizopcBCdVK0zP-9I75rvdNiMGEFxoPiE6ESeD9MA4b5WL6BB5HXN_lSEmD3fz8gmAxCcy4Gvnk/w372-h496/1.jpg" width="372" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKgQKqttOHeYS08_Tz1uizmgkZydIDnEbgeeIxfGnKdAm4IbrgcXA0VNPb-RH6J4VyrIZtAse-gki3CEtVLmS-SZCBQflika8whkUXViq_W1dZ0dPX9hObYYlhepBBZj6t-ftAMWppxg/s2048/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKgQKqttOHeYS08_Tz1uizmgkZydIDnEbgeeIxfGnKdAm4IbrgcXA0VNPb-RH6J4VyrIZtAse-gki3CEtVLmS-SZCBQflika8whkUXViq_W1dZ0dPX9hObYYlhepBBZj6t-ftAMWppxg/w340-h453/2.jpg" width="340" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">She just kept looking at me all the time I held her.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Karen continues to get my groceries for me and I continue to go twice a week to PT. It's been almost 4 total months. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-11845399399613795522021-07-26T13:05:00.000-04:002021-07-26T13:05:21.449-04:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">Well, you'd think I could keep up with this blog more than a post every six weeks!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm still in physical therapy--nearly 3 months now. My legs are getting much stronger, but I have what they call a "Drop Foot" on my left side. I can't lift my toes off the floor, so I take a step with my right foot, heel-toe, and then my left foot just drops on the ground. I look very similar to how Frankenstein walks. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The pain in my lower back is better. It will never go away, but at least it isn't constant anymore. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My unreliable car, is still unreliable--I drive it 4 miles-round trip, on Tuesdays and Thursdays to the PT. That makes me frustrated! I just want to be able to get in my car and drive up to The Farm and visit my sister and my hometown.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The weeds in my garden are taller than my beautiful Lilies. My front porch needs to be painted, but my balance isn't good enough yet to do any of those chores.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mobility issues, they call it. I know what I'd like to call it, but God told me not to swear anymore.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-76832538473936412512021-06-12T21:39:00.001-04:002021-06-12T21:39:38.794-04:00<p><span style="font-size: large;"> <span>If you have been reading this blog for the last few years, you have seen me write about my neighbor Dar. The strong-willed, strong-minded, assertive Dar.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She visited me one evening about 7 weeks ago. Her 100 year old Dad lives with her and every once in awhile she needs to escape. So she waits until he falls asleep for his evening nap and scoots over here for 45 minutes.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She had walked her normal 3 miles that day. Diagnosed with a very rare blood disease, Waldenstrom Syndrome--a form of Hodgkins cancer, but no symptoms, so they are "watching it".</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Two nights later, as I sat here in my computer room, looking out at her house, I saw an ambulance pull up and attendants going into her house. I naturally thought it was her Dad, but about a half hour later, the gurney came out and it was Dar, sitting on it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The next day I called a couple of her friends here in the park--Jackie, who lives next door to Dar and right across the street from me--was in bed asleep and didn't know anything.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dar's housekeeper who lives down at the end of the street didn't know either, but had Dar's daughter's phone number and would find out.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dar's daughter, from North Carolina, had just come in that very morning. They were getting together so that Dar could make out her Will.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Two days later, I heard that Dar had been having extreme stomach pains and vomiting, so the ambulance was called. Tests had been done. She was to have surgery.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now, this rare form of blood cancer can remain dormant for years and then appear in an internal organ. There is no known cure.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dar had a tumor, the size of a large bake potato removed from her Pancreas and two smaller ones--lemon sized, removed from her kidney, liver and had her spleen removed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She was in hospital for 10 days and then came home on Friday, May 8th. The next morning, her daughter, Dad and her sat down for breakfast and all of a sudden, Dar said, "Oh", and fell over onto her left side. The day before Mother's Day--when her granddaughter was expected to arrive.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Back into hospital. She had a stroke.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She was in hospital for 10 days and they wanted to move her to a care/rehab facility, but the facility said she wasn't well enough for them to take care of her.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Finally got her moved in the last of May. Even though Dar could speak a bit and knew her daughter/Dad/granddaughter, within four days, she suddenly decided to turn her back to the door, refused to eat or drink and kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut and refused to speak.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jackie went to visit her at the care center and said it was awful. Dar looked awful and Jackie wished she hadn't gone.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I told Jackie and Dar's other friends, "Dar is just waiting for her Angel to come and escort her home. Her faith is very steadfast and deep and she doesn't want to be here anymore."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dar died Monday, June 7th.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Everyone was shocked, but I thought, if she did make it through the stroke with rehab, she'd still have some debilitating effects from it and then the cancer? Would she want to deal with the treatments? Would she want the pancreatic tumor to come back and kill her?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">============</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It feels very strange to look out these front windows and see her house all closed up, her car removed from the driveway. I keep expecting to see her pull in with her car. I keep waiting for her to open my door and walk in.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She had such a dynamic, strong, vibrant personality, that it feels like something is missing from out neighborhood.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Today, her kids opened up her house so family, neighbors and friends could gather together and talk about memories. It was a nice gathering.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">=======</span></p><div class="obit-aside" style="box-sizing: border-box; float: left; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; width: 215.25px;"><img alt="Darlene C. Nadeau" class="obit-photo" src="https://www.macdonaldsfuneralhome.com/fh_live/13200/13263/images/obituaries/7494538_fbs.jpg" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; max-width: 100%; vertical-align: middle; width: 215.25px;" title="Darlene C. Nadeau" /><div class="obit-links" style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both;"><a class="btn-tree obituaryInline-trees-cta-leftside" href="https://www.macdonaldsfuneralhome.com/obituary/darlene-nadeau/gifts?campaign=obituaryInline-trees-cta-leftside" style="background-image: url("../images/gifts-bg9.jpg"); background-position-x: 100% !important; background-position-y: 10%; background-size: 150%; border-radius: 3px; border-top: none !important; box-sizing: border-box; color: #006699; display: block !important; flex-direction: column !important; margin: 0px 0px 0.75em; min-width: 43%; padding: 1em 30px 1em 1em !important; position: relative; text-decoration-line: none; text-shadow: rgb(255, 255, 255) 0px 0px 4px; z-index: 4 !important;" target="_blank"><h4 class="btn-title obituaryInline-trees-cta-leftside" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", Times, serif; font-size: 1.4em; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; text-shadow: rgb(255, 255, 255) 0px 0px 4px; text-transform: uppercase;">PLANT TREES</h4><p class="small strong btn-subtitle obituaryInline-trees-cta-leftside" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: black; font-size: 11.9px; line-height: 1.3; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 7px; text-shadow: rgb(255, 255, 255) 0px 0px 4px;">In Remembrance</p></a></div></div><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="obit-content" style="box-sizing: border-box; float: right; font-family: "Segoe UI", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; width: 602.688px;"><div style="box-sizing: border-box; float: left;"><div class="obit_name" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 24px;">Darlene C. Nadeau</div><p class="lifespan" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 1.1em; margin: 0px 0px 10px;">May 13, 1942 - June 07, 2021</p></div><div style="box-sizing: border-box; float: right;"></div><div style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both;"></div><div class="icons" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px; position: inherit; right: 10px; top: 10px;"><a class="btn btn-footer btn-ftd obituaryInline-gifts-textLink-header" href="https://www.macdonaldsfuneralhome.com/obituary/darlene-nadeau/gifts?campaign=obituaryInline-gifts-textLink-header" style="background: rgb(80, 81, 38) !important; border-radius: 4px; border: thin solid rgb(65, 66, 31); box-sizing: border-box; color: rgb(255, 255, 255) !important; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; line-height: 1.42857; margin-bottom: 0px; padding: 6px 12px; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation; user-select: none; vertical-align: middle; white-space: nowrap;" target="_blank">Send Sympathy Gifts</a></div><div class="obit2-nav-container" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 25px auto; text-align: center;"><div class="obit2-nav bs-gb-link-container" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block;"><a class="obit2-link" href="https://www.macdonaldsfuneralhome.com/#" id="bs-gb-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #006699; text-decoration-line: none;">Sign Guestbook</a><span class="obit2-pipe" style="box-sizing: border-box; padding: 0px 15px;">|</span></div> <div class="obit2-nav" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: inline-block;"><a class="obit2-link" href="https://www.macdonaldsfuneralhome.com/guestbook/darlene-nadeau" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #006699; text-decoration-line: none;">View Guestbook Entries</a></div><div style="box-sizing: border-box; clear: both;"></div></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 1.1em; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 1.1em; margin: 0px 0px 10px;">Darlene C. Nadeau, age 79 of Brighton, passed away after an extended illness on Monday, June 7, 2021. She was born May 13, 1942 in Detroit, the daughter of Clovis and Betty (Holtz) Nadeau. She is survived by her children Lisa Nalepa, Jeffory Nalepa, Connie Hetu and Wayne Hetu. Grandmother of Jeffory, Ashley, Zoe, George, Eleni, Hopejoy, Corey and Shea. Great-grandmother of Cooper and Hunter. Also survived by her father Clovis and brothers Mike and Terry Nadeau. Darlene was a manager of several restaurants. She enjoyed taking her day trips to to many places especially Frankenmuth, liked attending church, was an avid walker, liked her coffee and enjoyed spending time with family and her father. A memorial gathering will take place at a later date. </p></div><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-28033004868899214402021-06-10T15:16:00.003-04:002021-06-10T15:16:49.344-04:00<p> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><span style="color: var(--primary-text); font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large; white-space: pre-wrap;">Well last Friday was one of those kind of days, that left me emotional, but so happy. I had talked it over with my sister, last month when she took me up to her house. My mother built me a doll house for my 3rd Christmas. No young girls left to play with it and I wanted to say where it went before I die. Just one of those things you want done...just in case.</span></p><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="" dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc ihqw7lf3 dati1w0a" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_q3" style="font-family: inherit; padding: 4px 16px 16px;"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d" style="font-family: inherit; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql lr9zc1uh a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto" style="color: var(--primary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today, my daughter Karen, her oldest daughter Helene, my great great granddaughter Della and her little brother Harrison drove on up to Susan's house to pick it up...to go to my gg daughter Della.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">I wrote the history of the doll house and rolled it up like a scroll, tied with a little piece of leather and put it in one of the small closets to stay with the doll house.</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">"This doll house was made by Dorathy Della Walts in 1943.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">She gave it to her daughter, Judith Jean Walts on Christmas Eve that year. Judy was 4 ½ years old.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">When Judy’s little sister, Susan Ellen Walts, was born in 1952, she played with it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">When Judy had children, Mark, Pam, Karen & Jennifer, they played with it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">When Judy had granddaughter’s, Helene, Susanna, Madeleine (Rivard) & Elise (Oertel), they played with it.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Judy gave it back to Susan to have in her house and Susan’s granddaughter’s, Kate and Elizabeth played with it. 2015</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now that all those little girls have grown up, Judy is giving it to her great granddaughter, Della Helene, her oldest granddaughter Helene’s daughter, to have. 2021"</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="font-family: inherit; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">They loaded it into Helene's car, I took one last look at it, with my arm draped over my little sister's shoulders, and could remember the exact moment I saw it for the first time. That Christmas 78 years ago.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLeb1KfV0fiROHlWMbDm4s0VOD4l6mtUFYrAIjUpzHIwhm1VLqT3WT756Njo6Mk8bFPT4HXSCqM1pTkSob2px_t4Yo5JQoBcrsdWLze0D5M9dtRunAxdymBDOGV7Y1EVhvfycrLY4xl_I/s512/dollhousecopen.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLeb1KfV0fiROHlWMbDm4s0VOD4l6mtUFYrAIjUpzHIwhm1VLqT3WT756Njo6Mk8bFPT4HXSCqM1pTkSob2px_t4Yo5JQoBcrsdWLze0D5M9dtRunAxdymBDOGV7Y1EVhvfycrLY4xl_I/s320/dollhousecopen.bmp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBmpJyE9YWjz_cnMeiHnA5X9tsjFC4Jt1akdcFmxBdt_P9oatzXmmo8GLcTlQgneBKNARSGx2nQI7dAYugI4j0XHlnNGD2rPsvtzp0Hj-caVMuqupDHCeUZCSs5Q-QTvOXmRfhJp1tvY/s2048/dollhousetodellajune2021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="561" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBmpJyE9YWjz_cnMeiHnA5X9tsjFC4Jt1akdcFmxBdt_P9oatzXmmo8GLcTlQgneBKNARSGx2nQI7dAYugI4j0XHlnNGD2rPsvtzp0Hj-caVMuqupDHCeUZCSs5Q-QTvOXmRfhJp1tvY/w421-h561/dollhousetodellajune2021.jpg" width="421" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sister Susan, daughter Karen, Granddaughter Helene, holding Harrison.,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Della and me.</div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div></div></span></div></div></div></div></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-75086246761734379702021-06-01T22:26:00.001-04:002021-06-01T22:26:42.540-04:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">A month and a week since I've posted.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Is there an excuse? Not a very viable one.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Just not in the mood, I guess</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This past year plus has made me old. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I started physical therapy mid May and it has helped. It is going to take a long time even to learn how to walk again, without staggering from the back pain and the weak legs. I am booked twice a week through July 15th, with an extension if I need it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Last Thursday, I finally got up enough courage to allow Kiera (the PT) to stick a couple of acupuncture needles directly into the spot, where it feels hard as a marble. On my left side--the same spot that has hurt for the last 9 years. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I woke up the next morning to a bit of soreness, I suppose where the needles went in, but no pain in that area and the "marble" went from one of those big ones, down to a regular size. I couldn't believe it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then yesterday, I bent over to put the cat dishes down on their feeding mat, like I do every morning and when I went to stand back up, my right leg gave out and down I went...banging my right elbow, shoulder and hip.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had to scoot across the kitchen floor and the living room carpet to get to my recliner chair, where I got up on my knees, grabbed the cushion and pulled myself up enough so I could collapse into it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I woke up this morning, I could barely get out of bed, I was in such pain. My elbow and shoulder are bruised a bit, but it is the right lower back and right thigh that are so painful.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Here I am getting my left back fixed up and now I've set us back by racking up my right back.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I did have an appointment with her this afternoon, but when she saw me, she said my back was so inflammed that we couldn't do any exercises and she just massaged it for about half an hour.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Expecting a prescription of steroids to be delivered tomorrow.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">==============</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That reminds me...I heard a knock at my door Saturday and when I opened it, there Kiera stood with her freckled face 10 year old boy. She handed me a salad and said, "You sit and eat your salad while we weed your gardens." My gardens are thick this year and the plants are taller and fuller than they have ever been, but I have long grasses that are taller than the flowers. They cleaned them up good. Does that qualify for going above and beyond? She said she was afraid that I'd go out to weed and fall. Which, I probably would have.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">====================</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You remember Dar? My neighbor. I certainly have filled this blog with stories about her over the years.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"They" found out in January that she has a very rare blood cancer. Nothing to do but monitor it to see if it starts invading her organs.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">First part of May she became very sick and went into hospital. They waited a week than did surgery, to find she had a very large tumor in her pancreas and small tumors in her liver and kidneys. They removed them, but didn't want to pursue chemo right now.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She came home the day before Mother's Day. Her daughter had driven up from North Carolina to be with her.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mother's Day breakfast, Dar was at the table with her 100 year old father, who lives with her, and all of a sudden, she said, "Oh!" and fell to the left. She had had a stroke.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Back to the hospital. Clot in her brain. They couldn't operate because her other major surgery had been a short while ago.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The hospital wanted to put her in a care/rehab place, but the rehab place said she wasn't well enough. So the hospital kept her another week.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She was placed in a place last Monday. Her daughter and father got to visit her. Then her daughter went back to NC for a month, her father had to go live with his son, that he can't stand. They removed all the cable boxes from the house, put her car in storage, set up the house like you would if you were leaving for a long time and closed it all up. When I look out my left front window over there, it looks very lonely.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jackie, my neighbor directly across the street and next to Dar's house went up to visit Dar on Sunday. She called me afterwards to tell me...she regrets going.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dar lays raised in her bed. She will not open her eyes. She will not speak, even though she can. She has a feeding tube because she can't swallow. Jackie said she has lost a lot of weight and "looks just awful."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They expect her to be there 3 months...maybe longer. I'm thinking the pancreatic cancer might take her before then.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Personally? I think Dar is just waiting for her Angel to come and get her and take her to the Lord.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">It's amazing how quickly things can happen. Just the day before she first went into hospital, she walked around the block then stopped in to visit me. She seemed just fine. Spunky as usual.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">==================</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">On a brighter note:</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">My granddaughter Madeleine--the ballet dancer, who now teaches ballet, was married just 2 years ago end of May, came to visit and brought my great grandson Benedikt. It was wonderful to be able to hug and kiss and sit close to talk. She also brought news that she is expecting in January.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6V1RP0nMlYa6zAMvGZ7XrVwPI8PYytcrROwsouXMI2OSQFI3EhjAOVhw5i1nfaBZibQ5b2ZYQbfUmMShaE6rbb6CxKsyJaNphYigRjv8k762q-4QgTdkOAhjVmLeEA3Jbzglt-RjZ8Y/s2048/1bennymay2021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="499" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6V1RP0nMlYa6zAMvGZ7XrVwPI8PYytcrROwsouXMI2OSQFI3EhjAOVhw5i1nfaBZibQ5b2ZYQbfUmMShaE6rbb6CxKsyJaNphYigRjv8k762q-4QgTdkOAhjVmLeEA3Jbzglt-RjZ8Y/w374-h499/1bennymay2021.jpg" width="374" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7G-fdxp9Qh7Oowibj7mdYfqjGtodOHeq2DVrGj048vDkU_xrfMlDgAXhQw1fCQpuMv73Q86myaFCekxjcuRez7aZ2yMzn0TOsBHhyphenhyphenxD1cfsE5Y-BBxLcTNJMLuguoETR3_DpfWnpv8sw/s2048/2bennymay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7G-fdxp9Qh7Oowibj7mdYfqjGtodOHeq2DVrGj048vDkU_xrfMlDgAXhQw1fCQpuMv73Q86myaFCekxjcuRez7aZ2yMzn0TOsBHhyphenhyphenxD1cfsE5Y-BBxLcTNJMLuguoETR3_DpfWnpv8sw/w299-h399/2bennymay.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7267296850244884919.post-5282129308118932192021-04-25T22:10:00.001-04:002021-04-25T22:10:52.665-04:00<p><span style="font-size: large;">I have been so down in the dumps lately. Lonely and lonesome.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's been over a year since I've been up to The Farm. My car is not stable enough to make that 25 mile trip.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday, my sister came all the way down from The Farm to pick me up. We stopped at Culver's to get a butter burger for lunch and then drove the back roads up to our home town.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't know why, but she has a key to the church--a church I attended from the age of 6 weeks of age on, so we went inside so I could look around in the sanctuary. They have added those large video screens up behind the altar. I don't like them. I like to hold a hymnal, so I can see the notes so I can harmonize. Nowadays, they post the words on the video screen and, I guess, people just sing the words in unison with no harmonizing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have been having a lot of trouble with my legs. They are very weak. I had walked around the church quite a bit and when we got ready to leave, I stepped down on first step of the stairs...my left leg went out and down I went...landing on the step on my behind. I couldn't even pull myself up by the railing, so I just bumped along, down each step, until my feet were on the floor, then I grabbed the hand rail and my sister grabbed my other arm and I was able to stand.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then we drove around town a little bit, remembering who used to live where and what stores used to be on main street. We drove on out of town and stopped at the cemetery where all of our Daddy's ancestor's are...and where we both will be too. I walked a bit, finding it difficult and painful in my back to walk on uneven ground. My sister put the flowers in the urns and then we drove around the perimeter lane in the cemetery and stopped to "see" friends and family members who are buried there...my best friend and her husband are there.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then we drove the 3 miles over to her house. I enjoyed that drive. Some of the farmers are already tilling their fields...it's a bit early, but we've had an early spring. We drove by my oldest daughter's home--was my grandparents home and after my grandma died, we moved over there and raised the kids in that home. Then up on the corner where my son lives on what was my parents farm and the place I was born. Then 1/8th mile down to sister's place. The farm our great great grandparents settled on in 1855. 5 generations of my family have lived in that house. Of course sister and her hubs updated it a bit when they moved in 9 years ago.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1GmVqEXwKGdBaWdLwVsOoZsZsc9djwknzQeVCiZWbVGXEyNVnzN7Vd2QJq6gaGeu91Pz8U0_NDfa3n2cvy83hgpMG3Oh8oW3B692D2vUORlGUHIA6rqpcgS8R7oW1uMM9DMC32EKy3Y/s1026/Walts+Homestead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="523" data-original-width="1026" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL1GmVqEXwKGdBaWdLwVsOoZsZsc9djwknzQeVCiZWbVGXEyNVnzN7Vd2QJq6gaGeu91Pz8U0_NDfa3n2cvy83hgpMG3Oh8oW3B692D2vUORlGUHIA6rqpcgS8R7oW1uMM9DMC32EKy3Y/w455-h232/Walts+Homestead.jpg" width="455" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Now</span></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvosRP17t-UIIQ9R6rBB0uI8aykOcl_tLAQXBAw-vqLaO6wOQDCzKH6t2iXrqr5MxuN64HEaLc_Bc7Rf3CkoGA1cY0zF5EjHUGUQp5TqdSqFqUf2PtlsAqgA6K1RmuE4TkByBNYbRcrjk/s1429/bighouse2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1429" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvosRP17t-UIIQ9R6rBB0uI8aykOcl_tLAQXBAw-vqLaO6wOQDCzKH6t2iXrqr5MxuN64HEaLc_Bc7Rf3CkoGA1cY0zF5EjHUGUQp5TqdSqFqUf2PtlsAqgA6K1RmuE4TkByBNYbRcrjk/w454-h341/bighouse2013.jpg" width="454" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Instead of leaves, that entire front lawn is covered by tiny purple May flowers.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We talked. Some serious talk about things I want to go to certain people after I die and she will take care of the distribution.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">We laughed and then she got out some old home movies our Mother had taken and I had put on a DVD and we watched. Once again, so many friends and family members. It was great to see my sister when she was little and I was a teenager. To see your Daddy and Mother and grandparents and great grandma walking around. We wish there had been sound so we could hear their voices again.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then, she brought me home. I had been so lonesome to go back "home"...where I know every inch of those houses, the fields, the woods.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was such a wonderful day..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">=============</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Of course today, my legs hurt so bad I can hardly walk. I rubbed them down with some horse liniment I got from a Vet. It helps horses that have gone lame and...I tell you the truth...this old nag has gone lame in the last few months...but at least I'm not homesick anymore.</span></div>Judyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03399435237919718544noreply@blogger.com10