...countdown to surgery!

Just a really cool wagon I found to photograph

“The best laid plans of mice and men…”  One of those things I’m always saying, has bitten me rarely squarely on the tuchas (butt). I mentioned briefly yesterday that I tore my knee. Well, I really did a number on it, apparently. One of those silly moments where nothing actually “happened”, I just turned wrong! My knee was already weak. I had gone to see Dr Quinn, Medicine Boy (I call him that because he looks really young to me for a surgeon!) about this same time last year after doing something rather similar.  At the time, he said there was a small tear in my meniscus in the back of my knee but that we could probably do some physical therapy and strengthen the muscles around it and I’d be okay for a bit.  I am thankful that it waited til winter to do this, actually.  You gotta find your gratefulness where you can!

I asked him if I’d be back to normal by the time we are supposed to do a photo shoot vacation in Monument Valley and the deserts of AZ in mid-April.  He assures me that it should be walkable and strong by then.  He did my last ortho surgery…shoulder… that time.  For such a young looking surgeon, he’s really great. When did doctors get so young?  I swear when I was Nursing and trolling for a mate, they were all old curmudgeons! My shoulder surgery was a blessing. I had an entrapped AC space and lots of bone spurs in my shoulder. He took out about half an inch of my collar bone so things wouldn’t rub anymore and I feel like I have the shoulders of a teen now! I’m hoping this is the case with my knee.

He’s a little nervous because I’m not on any HIV meds at the moment. I tried to explain that those pills to keep the virus under control really have no bearing on my ability to heal.  Quinn and I have an unusual relationship, anyway.  He really doesn’t have much of a sense of humor and it just drives me batty! Yesterday, when he was torturing me by putting my knee in angles that knees weren’t meant to assume in the first place, I was trying to joke between my sobbing in pain. I actually did make him crack a smile a time or two. Hey, doctors, it’s okay to appear human to your patients!!

Going in for procedures is always weird when you have AIDS.  I worry a lot about someone accidently sticking themselves. I still hear from the RN who accidently stuck me with that HIV infected needle.  The poor woman still can’t forgive herself, almost 21 years later, although I did when it happened. Every time she contacts me, I spend a lot of time assuring her that it was not her fault, it was the hospital’s for where they had the needle boxes located.  Sometimes, I think I stay alive, just for her.

The weirdness comes because there are two kinds of medical professionals when it comes to dealing with HIV.  Some are so worried that they are going to show fear around my body fluids that they endanger themselves in their attempts to “act nonchalant” about being so close to an incurable disease. I have to chastise them to put on gloves and am constantly pushing heads away from needle sites (you never know when something’s gonna squirt in the eye).  I really appreciate them trying to make me feel normal but hey, I AM a diseased pariah that can change your life forever.

The other sort never came out of the dark ages.  I’m an empath, there I said it… I am very, very sensitive to other people’s feeling..good or bad.  They come at me in waves and sometimes colors and shapes emanate from people. I used to think I was crazy until I found other empaths to talk to.  Anyway, that’s another story.  These dark age medical professionals of which I speak just ooze contempt and loathing when they see me.  There was a nurse at our local hospital like that. I had gone in for a very serious lipid based infusion that must either be done in the ER or the Cancer room because it could have caused me to have a heart attack or stroke during its administration.  All this was to get rid of a rather nasty case of thrush (yeast) in my esophagus. This nurse treated me like total garbage.  She constantly made insinuations that I must be a druggie or a whore.  She almost killed me because of her prejudice! She never even took my blood pressure before the procedure or my temp.  After the infusion and more of her ridiculous snide, demeaning remarks, she let me go with a 105 temp and blood pressure of 190/120.  I freaking drove myself home, shivering with fever. I had to call my friends Sheryl and Reba to come stay with me until everything went back down, them taking my vitals about every 15 minutes. It took over 14 hours for me to stabilize. Rob was away on a hunting trip at the time. As soon as I arrived home from the hospital, I called my infectious disease doc, who was in Casper at the time.  He says…go back in… I said, not on your freaking life.  So once again, thanks to Sheryl Sowers and Reba Foster for getting me through that nightmare! I am a nice person and will not tell you who that nurse is, as she still works there. Karma will get her ass.

You’d think in this day and age, with HIV being around for over 25 years…at least the medical profession would have their facts straight! I used to get so pissed (still do, actually) when I would run into people who said they felt sorry for me because I didn’t “deserve” AIDS.  Excuse me, who does? Why do we condemn folks who get a virus from the very act that perpetuates the human race (sex)? Do you feel any less sorry for someone with colon cancer or stomach cancer?  Do you chastise them and tell then it’s their fault because they ate badly and brought the cancer on themselves?  Of course, you don’t! But people do it with AIDS patients all the time.  They BLAME the victim. I have run into so many women over the course of my lecturing that were infected by supposed faithful husbands, it makes my head spin. Is it their fault their husbands cheated? Gah!!

Anyway, so these things run around in my head every time I have to get any major surgery. I also really have to worry about infection because, hey, I have no immune system, right? Last bloodwork check a few weeks ago, I was sitting on 72 t-cells.  (I've been down to Manny, Moe and Jack - 3, before) The normal person has around 1100 (this is what they count in a mm of blood, by the way).  So, I’m a little nervous. So is Dr Quinn, for that matter.  He even joked (he joked!) that if some miracle occurred and my knee felt better, we should call the whole thing off. One little infection post-op could mean the beginning of the end. But, I’ve been careful over the years. I don’t let docs give me antibiotics unless absolutely necessary so I can save their strength just for times like these. All of my other bloodwork is pretty excellent for a half dead chick. I am blessed with low blood pressure and low cholesterol, through no fault of my own.

Today, I’m working on arranging stuff in the great room on the main level of the house so that I can be comfortable after surgery .  Don’t think I’ll be hitting those 16 steps up to the bedrooms any time soon! Thankfully, years ago when I was really sick, Rob bought me a great recliner. It even has heat and massage! I call it my shake and bake chair.  It is my dear friend and I will be spending quite a few nights now in its comfy goodness, near the crackling woodstove. Friend Pam just gave me a whole sack of books to read, I'll be just fine...

Best laid plans of mice and men…..

in which I piss off the world with my views on Pro Football

The Superbowl crowd

So, did everyone enjoy the Superbowl?  Did you even watch? I am very ambivalent about football.  I think sports are a wonderful tool in school to teach discipline, teamwork, sharing and a lot of other moral values and skills required to be a well-rounded adult.  But, personally, I think pro-ball is just stupid. Please don’t throw things at me before you hear why.. then I’d prefer you still not, but if you insist!

Here we have guys playing football for millions of dollars for a few years, right? The fans have seen the Superbowl tickets go from around $20.00 when it first started to now the cheapest seat is $600.00.  The fans like to complain all the time about the cost. Also, you practically have to wait for someone to die to get season tickets to the regular games. We’re not EVEN going to talk about what season tickets cost.  The fans complain about the cost. When the football players decide that $190,000 per game or whatever it is, isn’t enough to play 4 quarters of football…they strike for more money. 

You go to the stadium.  You buy your $90 worth of food (hot dog, a beer, maybe a pretzel and a souvenir)  You’ve already probably shelled out $60-$100 for a seat, if you are lucky.  You sit down and lo and butthole, there’s a fan from the other team…the “enemy” sitting next to you.  He’s swilling beer like his wife never lets him drink. As the game progresses, his team starts losing, he’s swilling more beer and his personality changes! All of a sudden, you are the object of his wrath because a bunch of overpaid grown men in tights can’t keep a mathematically slippery object in their sweaty hands.  Now, it’s all your fault….you, you (insert team here) loving jerk! Next thing you know, if you are lucky, you just get drenched by one of those $7 beers. If you aren’t lucky and there’s a crowd of angry fan-losers around you, you may just wake up in the hospital after being flown through the air down through the stadium.

Don’t tell me it doesn’t happen. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Pro football  (or any other pro sport, look at soccer) brings out a nasty side of people I really prefer not to be around.  I’ve been to Redskins games and Colts games (back when they were in Balto) and I’ve seen what the “team spirit” rage can do. I’ve even been the object of the violence and only because I wasn’t paying enough attention to the game.  Since when is it anyone’s business what I do in my seat? I paid for it, right?  If I want to sit and talk to my friends instead of watch the game, that’s my prerogative. As long as I’m not interfering with your view, what’s the freaking harm?  You can’t hear the players whispering on the field and I’m not shouting to my friend, I’m just talking. I’ll bet something gets destroyed tomorrow in NY because some fans still have some pent up testosterone.

As I said, everyone and I mean the fans, are always complaining about the cost of the games. Well, folks, if you stop paying those prices, maybe they’ll come down.  You are the ones perpetuating the cycle! Stop going to a few games.  Let them experience a half empty stadium. Organize a consumer strike like the football guys do.  Who is in charge here anyway?

I did go down to the Moose Lodge for the game yesterday, though.  Made a really nice cheese, fruit and salami platter with a red wine syrup for dipping. We had a huge table of friends and more food than you can imagine.  We shoved the tables in a big horseshoe so we could all talk and watch the big screen.  If you look at the picture above, I’m in the brown cowboy hat with my back to the game.  I did turn around for the commercials and to watch Madonna (dang, that woman still looks fabulous, we’re the same age, I don’t look like that!).  But mostly I sat and talked dogs and science with my friend, Brenda.  Some of you may call me unpatriotic or some other such nonsense.  I really think we need to put down the cleats, balls, racquets, whatever… when we get outta college, though, except for personal satisfaction in friendly neighborhood games.  Better yet, get your opinionated, fat butt off the couch and go out and enjoy PLAYING something instead of getting all mad and greasy from the chips while someone else becomes a millionaire off of you!

We’ll return to our regularly scheduled happiness tomorrow, I just had to get that off my chest. 

Oh and on another note...I think I tore my meniscus in my right knee yesterday! I had torn it around this same time last year and went to see Dr Quinn, medicine boy, the Orthopedist about it.  He said at the time it was a minor tear, not operable and I did months and months of physical therapy to strengthen my knee. Yesterday, I was outside with Thistle and I turned wrong and my knee popped like a champagne cork. I can't straighten it and I can't bend it all the way now and it's swollen on the inner side! Hurts like a, well, you know...Luckily, being the accident prone creature I am, I have those great forearm crutches (mine are lavender) to hobble around with until I can get in for an MRI.  Stay tuned, this time I think it will require some surgery and that's ALWAYS fun when you have no immune system....

I’m a big girl and welcome comments on my blog, by the way.

Thistle and Lady Bison kisses

I truly believe I must have more fun than the average human being. I’m not going to apologize, either, because I think it’s just in the way I look at things. I really don’t think I’m involved in anything that anyone else isn’t. Okay, maybe I do live in a wonderful place, although, if you talk to some of the kids who grew up here, they’d beg to differ. It always amazes me when the kids around Buffalo say there is nothing to do or that dumb winter has set in and they are bored.

Of course, I do remember being that sloe-eyed, rebellious age when I thought adults were incredible idiots. You remember…it was hard to figure out just how “old people” managed to function with their lack of knowledge?  Then, about 27-30ish, you came back to your senses and felt most had normal intelligence again?

Somehow, I manage to make every day an adventure, that’s all I’m trying to say. And, yes, I’m very verbose at times (that means I take a lot of words to make a point).  Ask my husband or my friends about that verbosity thing. I think it actually irritates them.  I know it irritates Rob.  He’s always telling me to get to the point of my story. I can’t help it, though. I guess I think that all conversations require that you fill in all the background before you say “and then I saw…” I apologize, folks.  I realized it yesterday when I was talking to a store clerk… in of all places, Walgreen’s.  I saw that glaze over that Rob gets when I’m taking too long to get to “the crux of the biscuit”.

I was in purchasing one of those new “Blu” e-cigarettes. My friend, Bobbie, has gotten one, and had let me try hers the other night at the Moose.  As I’ve told you, I’m always making serious movement toward quitting and here’s another thing that just might help.  I tried those e-cigs, when they first came out a few years ago.  They hadn’t quite perfected all the stuff yet.  No pack to hold it in, so I lost about 4 of them in short order, left here and there.  And you had to refill them with gooey nicotine juice yourself (well, you didn’t HAVE to, but I save money where I can).  All in all, though, they just weren’t ready for prime time.

So, I tried Bobbie’s Blu and it felt pretty good.  Nice pull on it and heavenly smoke comes out. Got its own little pack to keep it in which even keeps it charging.  It even has a “social” feature on the pack that blinks blue if you are near someone else who has a Blu…kinda cool.  I guess you can be semi-miserable together.  I can just see myself now…standing in a crowded place and all of a sudden my pack starts flashing. I guess I’m supposed to start asking everyone “Who’s the other loser who is trying to quit?”  Regardless, I came home yesterday and charged the sucker up and am giving it the old college try starting today.

The clerk in Walgreen’s was victim to my verbosity because she had asked why I was getting one.  Luckily, she had just put up her “closed” sign or we might both be in trouble because I had to answer her in longhand. Bet she’ll never ask me anything again.  Of course, if she hadn’t continued to ask more questions, we wouldn’t have spent 15 minutes together. Lady at Walgreen’s, I’m sorry I took up so much of you break time! She really didn’t seem to mind too awful much, though. She banters with me every time I go in there.

We also hit the wildlife pen yesterday. It was a gorgeous day and Rob wanted to get some good shots of the big elk guy in there. Thistle and I walk while he’s doing that. There was a huge Bison (Buffalo) laying near the fence right near the walking path so I took Thistle over to get a close look at him.  While I was trying to get her to focus on the big guy, a younger female Bison came right up and started sticking her big gray tongue through the fence. After checking , indeed, that was all she would be able to get through that little hole, I let Thistle get right up to her!  Lady Bison was really friendly and curious and so was Thistle. 

Lady B would snort gently a big blast of air (which we could see because it was chilly) and Thistle would sniff, sniff, sniff, almost enveloped in a cloud of her steam.  Then, out would come the tongue from Lady B. Finally, Thistle stuck her face close enough that she got licked right up the face by Lady B. This seemed to make the bison even more excited, but not in a bad or threatening way, which kinda surprised me, as they can be very dangerous.  We stood there for probably five minutes with big clouds of bison air billowing out toward Thistle and random licks. They almost seemed to be communicating! The most unusual thing (okay it was ALL unusual) was that Thistle was completely calm and focused the whole time. No puppy antics, no jumping or barking or clawing at the fence this time! I think she could feel the power of the big lady. I don’t know, really, it was just surreal.

Of course, we got none of it on film.  Rob did get some great shots of the elk, however. So, you never know when you are going to have an adventure, do you? Around here, it seems it’s every day.  You just have to open your eyes and really look at what’s around you.  Nature can be so awesome, even if you live in a big city!  I used to live in downtown Baltimore and had a fire escape off my living room window at one of my apartments. I’d put out plates of bird food out there and get some amazing birds!  Okay, got a lot of freaking pigeons, too, but if you look close, they have pretty colors, too. 

I think there’s beauty everywhere, not just here in Buffalo, WY.  I do not, however, want to live anywhere else.  We seem to have a perfect mix of everything here for me (although, Lord, I’ll take a few more restaurants, please).  We have real seasons here, which I love because I love all the seasons. I think each one has its own unique beauty.  When I lived in California, I really missed the changing seasons.  It hardly ever rains here in summer, so you can make plans without fear. Spring is just shockingly amazing when the brown and white landscape turns green and there’s hundreds of thousands of new births everywhere, both domestic cattle & sheep and the baby deer & pronghorn antelope are prancing about.  Fall is spectacular when the aspens turn! Winter, ah, winter…still my favorite!  The snow here is so dry and crystallized, picks up color like you can’t believe.  Yes, it’s cold. I do believe we’ve perfected warm clothing, however, and dressed properly (and not trying to look like a fashion model) can be enjoyed just as much as the other seasons.

I’ll leave you with my two favorite quotes of all time on this crisp, beautiful February morning….

This one hangs over my stove:

“In the midst of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” Albert Camus

And in my library:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could learn what it had to teach, and not, when I come to die, discover that I had not lived” Henry David Thoreau

....you gonna drink that?

As much as I love Fridays and Happy hours, I’m not real fond of Saturday morning! I used to be able to socially have a cocktail or two and be just fine. Not anymore, apparently! Last night I only had one drink…okay, it was a very large drink, but still…. Let me back up and explain that I dislike having just alcoholic drinks in front of me.  I’ve always been that way.  Also, I don’t like beer, at all…  I’m allergic to the sulfites in red wine and rarely can I find a good white in a bar. So, for as long as I can remember, I’ve ordered my alcohol separate from my tea or coke or whatever. What I’m trying to delicately say is that I drink shots (but I don’t “shoot” them by any means). I sip them and it can take me almost an hour to finish one. I’m mostly actually drinking whatever non-alcoholic beverage I have also ordered.  The male of the species that inhabits and trolls bars sometimes finds this a challenge, for some reason I cannot fathom.  It seems to rub against their sensibilities that a female is drinking straight alcohol. Hmm…

Luckily, with the gray hair I now sport, I don’t get so many challenges from these trolls anymore. You know what I’m talking about… They swagger up all macho with their eye on my rocks glass full of Captain Morgan (no ice) and say something like “Hey there, sweetie, don’t tell me that big ole glass of booze is all yours?” I politely say yes and explain what I just told you about keeping stuff separate  and for some reason they ALWAYS come back with “I bet I can drink a (insert expletive of your choice here) more than you, BABY (emphasis on that "baby"..always sarcastic)” I try to deflect by politely saying “Yes, I’m sure you can” Never works….they aren’t listening. I seemed to have touched off some Neanderthal hair-pulling thing deep inside their primordial brains that just has to make them stupid.

Now when I was younger, this would be followed by a “shoot off” and I used to REALLY be able to hold my liquor. It was like that scene with Karen Allen in Raider’s of the Lost Ark, when Harrison Ford found her doing that one on one shoot off in the ice cave.  These silly men forget I’ve been drinking this particular booze for about 25 years and they’ve just been swilling beer until their encounter with me. That’s why I win, nothing magical there….

Oh, nothing like that happened last night, by the way, my mind just follows its own thoughts, I have no control here at 5 o’clock in the morning. Something cute did happen though.  We have a friend, Roger, can’t remember his last name at the moment, doesn’t matter.. He and Rob were both in the Navy at the same time.  He’s a retired Gunner and Rob’s a retired Chief. There were only 4 ships docked in Greece back in 1972, and Roger was on one and Rob on another. They didn’t know each other back then, just met here in Buffalo but when they get together that’s all they talk about…the good ole days in the Navy in Greece. Last night, they got a little carried away and we had to take Roger’s keys away after he flat faced in the bar (& again in the parking lot) and then he couldn’t find his house keys in his truck so he’s sleeping soundly up in our spare bedroom right now.

He’s such a sweet guy. He wouldn’t stop apologizing last night for being loaded, heck, he’s the one who fell flat on his face in the parking lot, not us!  Anyway, so when the guys finally wake up this morning, I’m going to take them for a nice big breakfast down at Duffy’s before we go try to find Roger’s house keys and get him back to his truck.  It was all I could do to keep Thistle from sleeping with him last night.  She thinks he’s just grand, too. I just hope he stops with the apologies…isn’t that what friends are for?

Oh, and to finish it up…that ONE drink I had, despite having brought cheeses, crackers, walnuts, fruit and assorted other snacks, kicked my butt! Glad no one challenged this old teetotaler.  I may have to give up even my one cocktail soon or maybe actually just get a normal shot next time.

Ya’ll have a great day and don’t forget to smile at your fellow humans. You never know what’s going on with them and your smile might just save their day.

a little medical lesson....

This week sure flew by! Well, at least it did for me…. I don’t know about you.  I was really busy but at the moment I am not sure exactly what all I did.  I know one thing I did not do…I did not call the doctor yesterday.  Life got in the way, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

It all started with a text message a few minutes before the doctor’s office opened.  A friend was in great pain and was waiting to call my same doctor to try to get in as soon as possible. She has diverticulosis (little pockets in your intestines) and they were inflamed again (diverticulitis). Now, if any of you suffer from this, you know the pain of which she speaks. It is bad! I helped her through when she was originally diagnosed a while back. As a matter of fact, I have that lovely little problem, too and so does Rob.  It seems to be a side effect of aging.  It strikes a lot of people over the age of 50. Food particles get caught in those little pockets and start to fester and the area gets inflamed and then you end up with a little infection in the pockets. This in turn causes spasms along the whole track of your intestines.  Now spasms are a normal occurrence in your intestines…that ‘s called peristalsis, it’s how your food gets pushed through your digestive tract, but this is a extra special nasty spasm when the diverticulitis kicks in!

Anyway, so I did not call the doc for myself. Last time this happened to her, we had to take her to Sheridan for additional testing and I did not want to be in the middle of my own problems and not be able to assist her. She doesn’t like to drive if the weather is bad and the mountain was already looking a little angry by the time she went to see Sandy.  The weather can be completely different in Sheridan so I wasn’t taking any chances.

Turns out, she got in to see Sandy at 11 am and was given some majorly nasty antibiotics and painkillers and there was no need to go to Sheridan.  By the time I got Rob fed for lunch and got over to see her around 2, she wasn’t looking real hot, though, and I wasn’t about to leave her. Nothing worse than not feeling well and living alone, I say. 

Being Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy (that was my nickname when I worked with the kids, given to me by my mother, both in psych and ICU) it was my self-directed obligation to comfort my friend.  Of course, my faithful blonde four legged medical assistant, Thistle, was along to make her smile! She could have refrained from jumping on her stomach, however.  I have to teach her a little better in the ways of therapeutic touch., I’ll forgive her now, she’s still a puppy in training, but if she want to go on house calls with me in the future, she’s gonna have to restrain herself a little better!

Between the two of us, we got her smiling a little.  I convinced her to let me make her some dinner to bring back to her as you can’t be swilling painkillers on an empty stomach (even though it feels like they work faster and better) because that will make you feel sicker. SO, off I went to make her a very mild manicotti drizzled with a little olive oil.  With diverticulitis, you have to let your stomach rest. They used to make you go clear liquids for like a week to rest your system, but have now started letting patients just go the soft food route.  You just don’t want your stomach working too hard digesting food for a while. I also brought her over some frozen pieroges and pot stickers for later.  Yes, I’m a food pusher when it comes to being sick. You can’t heal if you aren’t giving your body proper nutrition!

Don’t mean to toot my own horn but I know all the tricks for sick people, being a professional sick person myself. And since I can no longer practice medicine, I truly enjoy helping my friends. It helps keep the cobwebs away from all that great learning I got in nursing school and beyond, as well.  People are always apologizing around here when they pick my brain on medical stuff but I really enjoy it. It makes me feel useful and I paid a lot of money for that education!  I was working on my Master’s/NP when I got my needlestick and my head still brims with lots of medical knowledge.  Also, I’m one of those that will not tell you medical info if I’m not sure, but I do have all the resources not available to laypeople to look it up. I have continued to keep up my nursing license all these years which enables me access to medical journals online that require a license for access. I use it a lot for my own diseases.  Sandy really likes that, as we both agree..I only have one patient..me…so I stay up on the latest medical breakthroughs. 

That reminds me…I really appreciate everyone who comes up to me and tells me the “latest” AIDS breakthrough they heard on ABC or CNN, really I do. Folks, hate to tell ya, by the time it hits there, I’ve known about it for probably a year.  I don’t know how many people had to tell me about the “Berlin patient”  who was cured!  Old news, folks, I followed his case from the beginning.  What you didn’t know from the main stream media is that he almost had to die to get those results and he had a rare bunch of circumstances that are almost impossible to duplicate.  But, I really do appreciate that you are thinking of me when you see those news items, I really do.  Rest assured, though..I’m not wandering the desert…I want there to be a cure more than you’ll ever imagine.  I’ve done some pretty crazy treatments toward that end.

I’m a realist, however and know that there has never been a cure for a virus to date. We can’t even cure the common cold (although that is a VERY complex virus) You see, the problem with virus’s is that they are extremely smart.  They want to survive just as much as we do, maybe more so. They are willing to go without food or movement in tiny pockets of our body for years, just for one little chance to reactivate! They can mutate, too!  The HIV virus can actually trick our own t-cells into thinking they are producing more new t-cells when in actuality..they are producing HIV cells!

Some of the greatest minds in the world are working on a cure.  I’ve met them and they are brilliant. Stephen Ho is one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever had the opportunity to talk with and Tony Fauci, who I actually correspond with on e-mail.  They have pretty much dedicated their entire lives to this and I wish them well.  However, every time they think they are close, the virus seems to outsmart them. Hmmph… 

So, I didn’t call and make my own appointment yesterday with Sandy.  But, guess what, I actually feel a little better today! I think it was just some passing congestion.  It could have even been due to all the barometric changes, just loosened up some stuff.  My back doesn’t hurt this  morning, either.  I just have a little junk in my upper chest, I think.  I am, however, going to call this morning and schedule an appt for Monday, really I am.  Just to be on the safe side, I’d like someone other than myself listen to my lungs.

Well, it’s Friday! If I don’t see ya this weekend, enjoy the Superbowl! I have no stake in who wins but I do have money on squares! Goooo….numbers!

 Time to do the Happy Pants Dance………  All together now… ♪♪♪Happy Pants Dance… Happy Pants Dance…. Let’s All do the Happy Pants Dance! ♫❤♫

...the enemy is Myself!! Crap!!

Me at 12 with my birth father, Bill Weichel in FL

Golly gee willikers, sometimes I’m my own worst enemy, I swear! Remember I told you I have telephone reluctance?  Well, I still haven’t made that simple call to the doc for my appointment and I think now I have to call as soon as the office opens this morning….

I’m a little wonky this morning and I have some congestion in my chest again. My back hurts up behind my rib cage.  Not good. I hope to heck I didn’t just fool around and start up with pneumonia again.  You see, the problem with that stuff is that once I get it, I have a tendency to keep getting it back.  This is a regular thing for me in the winter and I really wish it would just quit it.  It always catches me by surprise.  It starts with just not feeling my usual “roadrunner” self and then progresses to being more and more tired….not sleepy, just tired.  Then the backache starts.  Funny thing, I never really cough, which is what you think of when someone has there lungs all clogged up, right?  No, mine is more of a slow drowning, I think.

All of you that see me on a regular basis know that I am a smoker. Save the lectures on quitting, I have been trying to quit longer than I can remember. I have been smoking since I was 12 years old. My mom was a smoker until the age of 68. She caught me smoking at age 12 and being the smart parent that she was, thought she would use reverse psychology on me. She told me that if I was going to smoke, I’d do it in the living room. Her reasoning was that I was just doing it to be cool and that once the thrill of sneaking behind her back was removed…I’d quit.  Not! I went to school the next day proudly proclaiming to my 6^th grade class that I was allowed to smoke. THAT made me cool, for sure!

Well, actually nothing made me cool back then. I was the stand-out stranger, from somewhere else geek, everywhere I went to school. In 6^th grade, I stopped growing.  So, here’s me at 12…picture it in your mind…..tallest kid in school (5 ft 9),  completely developed…read BIG boobs, coke bottle bottom glasses….I mean thick!  Top that off with being a bit of a brain, and always the new kid and you have a train wreck that gets bullied and badgered, right? Oh, hell yes.  At one point in 7^th grade at Loch Raven Jr.,(by then, luckily I had contact lenses) the 9^th grade boys would sing the starting sounds to the Pimlico horse track stuff ( ba-ba-bumpa da bumpa da bumpa da bum) and announce me as “Here comes “Man ‘O War” (the horse)when I would come down the hall. I could go on and on because it went on and on all through high school. Looking back, I realize I was quite lovely and they were all just assholes. My reward is that I turned into a smart, grounded, loving person and they are mostly still stuck right where I left them in dead end lives and probably still judging people and hating their own lives.

So smoking was my friend, sometimes, my only friend…. It’s been really hard and I’ve tried everything to quit.  I even followed the clinical trials for Chantix, eagerly awaiting it’s debut on the market. I was the first to ask my doc for a prescription. I was sure that was going to be my answer and I was finally going to be through with this disgusting habit.   Sure enough, it worked like a freaking charm! I quit for 4 months, no anger issues, no cravings…SWEET!  Then, all of a sudden my personality totally changed and I found myself actually plotting Rob’s demise. You laugh…this was NOT funny. I seriously have never come so close to cold, calculated murder in my life.  I almost RAN to the doctor..  I was one of the first to alert the company to the terrible side effects.  There are now black box warnings on Chantix.  If you ever use that stuff, be very, very careful.  I tell everyone I know to have their loved ones keep an eye on their personalities because it really can turn you into a monster.  Of course, as soon as I went off the drug…back to my little friend I went.

So, here I sit,  little weird rumblings in my chest, a little tightness and I KNOW I have to call Sandy this morning and it’s making my stomach hurt from the stress. It’s going to interfere with my life as I like to live it.  I have this fantasy that if I ignore things, they’ll just go away on their own. Pneumonia doesn’t believe in fantasy, now does it? I really need to grow up sometimes.

But darn it, this weekend is the Super Bowl and I have plans. I’m making an awesome new recipe..it’s a red wine syrup that you boil down to yummy sweet goodness and I have some fresh mozzarella, some of Scott Sower’s great artisan bread, grapes and greek olives that I’m gonna drizzle it over to take to the Moose.  It takes 3 bottles of wine to make a pint of this stuff. Is your mouth watering yet? I ain’t no wangs and buggers type of Superbowl chick…ya see?

Crap, do you see my conflicted self here? I’ll call, of course, I’ll call.  Not calling will not make it go away, dammit.  People always say they are sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I’m the billboard……………where’s that freaking number…..

So fail. Be bad at things. Be embarrassed. Be afraid. Be vulnerable. Go out on a limb or two or twelve, and you will fall and it’ll hurt. But the harder you fall, the farther you will rise. The louder you fail, the clearer your future becomes. Failure is a gift, welcome it. There are people who spend their whole lives wondering how they became the people they became, how certain chances passed them by, why they didn’t take the road less travelled. Those people aren’t you. You have front row seats to your own transformation, and in transforming yourself, you might even transform the world and it will be electric, and I promise you it will be terrifying. Embrace that; embrace the new person you’re becoming. This is your moment. I promise you, it is now, now, not two minutes from now, not tomorrow, but really now. Own that; know that deep in your bones and go to sleep every night knowing that, wake up every morning remembering that and then…keep going. Unknown

heat waves and harnesses...

Holy, Indian summer, Batman! We’ve been having a heat wave in Buffalo, Wyoming! Okay..maybe not a heat wave, but we got up into the 50’s the last few days and those of us who live here know that’s pretty darn warm for these parts. I haven’t seen so many smiling faces since the painted ones of the circus clowns in town!

Michelle, Ginnie and I went on a lovely walk with the Golden Retriever circus yesterday morning at 9 am out on the Klondike Trail. Eh, you say…no big deal. Well, on Jan 31^st, it’s actually quite a big deal.  Klondike Trail sits high on a ridge on the outskirts of town, there’s no real hills to block the winter wind that’s usually pretty stiff out there. I don’t think I’ve ever walked it this time of year before. The trail was nice and clear, too.  It was a little chilly from the coolness coming off the mountain but it was glorious.  Abby and Thistle (keep up, these are the Goldens) had a magnificent time, winding around and getting tangled all around us in true rodeo fashion. At one point, and we cannot figure out how this happened, Thistle’s lead actually got inside Abby’s leash clasp! Now, that took some serious rodeoing!  We walked about 2-21/2 miles and it was beautiful and we ran into all kinds of other people who were out enjoying the sunshine.

We even stopped and let the Goldens “talk” to a really beautiful bunch of horses. (They did not bark, they just sat & trembled & wagged, curious) Don’t know who they belong to but they are a gorgeous and friendly bunch. There was a huge black draft horse that I really fell in love with (from my wagon train days, I just love Percherons and such) and one horse, that upon first inspection appeared a bit ugly but as she got closer, we noticed she had gorgeous splotches on her face that made her look like she had brown eye shadow on white and just beautiful smudges all over.

Rob and I have a real appreciation for the Klondike Trail.  He did a lot of work to get it to become a reality.  It begins where Klondike turns from paved to a dirt road and goes for about 3.5 miles.  The residents out there, about 17 of them spaced far apart, really wanted a nice place to walk, besides on the road itself, which can be dangerous.  Rob helped them by getting a grant to pay for the construction and the residents out there pretty much maintain the trail.  Last summer, we all got together with sledgehammers and shovels and dug out & pounded in the trail markers every ¼ mile and then had a celebratory bbq. The residents also keep the trail clean and maintained. Great group of folks out there and they are saving the county tons of money by maintaining it. The trail itself is packed gravel and dirt, nice on the tootsies! You can see the whole ridge of the Bighorns the whole way, it’s a spectacular view!

We have an elaborate trail system here.  By the time it is all finished, you will be able to walk uninterrupted from 1-90 all the way to the mountains! I’m guessing that’s about 10-12 miles. It’s called the Clear Creek Trail system.  Right now, it’s pretty awesome already and I spend a lot of time there with Thistle. Most of it runs right beside the creek (I don’t know why they call it a creek, it’s a river, except at the height of summer) and it goes right through the center of town, just like the creek. If you are ever here, I highly recommend the walk, you won’t be disappointed. (Oh and folks here call them "cricks")

So, where was I? Ah, the weather! Rut ro…as I said, a sensitive topic here. Some are already worrying about this lack of moisture being a bad omen for fire season next summer. Hopefully, we’ll have a nice wet spring, that’s when we usually get most of our snow anyway. When we moved here in 1998, we had a snowstorm on April 15^th that dumped 3 feet of wet snow in a matter of hours.  A lot of people lost roofs, including our local Eagles building. Just crushed the bugger under the weight of the snow!

Today, it’s supposed to start cooling down and I heard we may get snow tomorrow, so it’s back to reality of winter.  As I said, I love winter so it’s no big deal to me. As long as the wind is under 30 mph, I’m a happy camper.

Today, I’ve got a busy schedule. It’s the beginning of the month so, ugh, it’s bill paying day. We only get paid once a month, it was hard at first to budget, but I’m so used to it now. Of course, we have trickles of income from our home businesses throughout the month but the economy has made it no so much of a certainty that we’ll get paid these days… Things are tighter than Myrtle’s girdle around the end of the month. Due to my lean childhood, I am a food hoarder.  My girlfriends tease me that they could shop in my pantry, like a grocery store.. but I think it’s a good obsession to have.  We never run out of food. Rob may not “like” the end of the month food but it’s healthy and nutritious. I can the bloody bejesus out of our garden in summer, this year I did over 200 jars of green beans and 300 of tomatoes, and that’s not counting all the frozen corn I put up and we have enough various kinds of jelly to put several diabetics in a coma, all from our fruit trees in the yard.  I even jar my own applesauce and corned beef. Between that and the 100 lbs of elk still in the freezer, we’ll never starve.

At noon, we are having the “State of the City” address at the Chamber of Commerce luncheon. That’s always a great time.  The mayor and staff clue us in on all the “happenings” going on in the City and where we are fiscally headed for the year.

After that, I have to go restock my larder in Sheridan and drop off Rob’s racquetball racquet at the Sports Stop there.  He busted his strings AGAIN! You’d think racquetball would be an inexpensive sport…just a racquet and some balls….but them there racquets are expensive and restringing is, too.  He’s been playing 3 times a week for about 30 years and he’s very, very good and very hard on his equipment.  A couple of years ago, he won the gold medal in the Senior Olympics here in WY. (Snicker)…Senior Olympics…naw, really, they were a very athletic bunch and I’ve very proud. They are considered "senior" at 50.

Also have to call and make an appointment with my doc.  I have something I like to call “telephone reluctance”. I have a really hard time initiating phone calls. Call me weird, okay - never mind, that’s been established long ago.  Anyway, I have a funny feeling there’s something going on in my chest and I know ignoring it will not make it better.  Spending so much time with docs, even one’s I like, is not something I cherish, so I’ve been putting it off.  I know, that’s dangerous when you have no immune system and so today, I WILL make the call.  I just got over a bout of walking pneumonia not long ago, I need to be more responsible. Funny, I have no problem calling friends…but make a hair appt or any appt…pbbfftt…lock-up! I could never be a sales person, I swear, I’d be so broke.

Okay, I see I really took you all over the place today so I’m gonna get my rear in gear and see what Miss February 1^st has in store for me.  I hope your little corner of the world treats you well today and if it doesn’t …..there’s always tomorrow, so smile big and don’t let the buggers see ya sweat!

From where I stand now, I see enough of the road to understand how it must be travelled ... The trick is to keep moving forward, to let go of the fear and regret that slows us down and keep us from enjoying the journey that will be over too soon ~ Rodyna