FINAL 2020 BLOG POST

 

This will be my final blog post for 2020 and I’m sorry to say I didn’t reach my goal of 366 posts, or one each day. I was unable to write and post to my blog during the five days I was in the hospital. Still, I’m proud of myself for sticking with my goal even though the blog posts I initially imagined I would do never came to fruition. Those would have been all the posts I’d have made during my travels in 2020. As we all know, travel was no longer an option after February.

I also envisioned a readership of hundreds, if not thousands, when it came to my blog. I don’t believe my number of readers ever passed ten and certainly not even 20 unless folks read my blog but chose not to “like” or “comment.” But that’s okay, because I found I was writing more for my own self rather than any readers. True, it was nice to see comments, to know people looked forward to the next post, and to read how much they liked what I’d written.

Beyond that, I’m proud of myself for a number of reasons which I’ll reiterate here.

(1)           When I began this blog, I was so angry at John I could barely say a single good thing about him. Over the course of the year, I’ve managed to let go of that anger. Rather than remember how he hurt me I’ve now chosen to remember all the wonderful experiences we shared during our long marriage. As someone told me decades ago: ”There are times in a marriage when you feel as though you are walking alone through a very dark valley and the sunshine is a mere pinprick in the sky. But you persevere and eventually you’ll climb back out of that valley to create and share even better memories in the sunshine. It’s great memories that get you through that valley.” And in our marriage of 53 years, we had far more great, fun, loving and exciting good memories than bad.

(2)          When I began this blog, I thought I’d be blogging about the exciting life I was planning. I managed to go on one cruise before the world came to a screeching halt and I really enjoyed that cruise and blogging about the experiences I had. Since life was definitely not very exciting, I still somehow managed to find stuff to blog about. Hopefully, the majority of my blogs were not full of “poor me” and whining.

(3)          Well, I did get a bit tired of whining and looking for stuff to blog about, so I decided to write an erotic book. I was surprised at how the words fell out of my fingertips. Even more surprising to me was the fact I managed to follow the story line and actually complete my story about SHE. In 2021, I’m going to submit it somewhere and see if it’s publishable. Also, did you know there’s an erotica group on Facebook. I’ve joined, but haven’t done much with them just yet. I’m going to spend a bit more time there and see if I find it helpful. Apparently, you can self-publish through Amazon, but I don’t know anything about that yet either.

(4)          I started a second book that’s more story and less eroticism. It’s something that’s been in the back of my file cabinet for many years. I wasn’t able to finish it before 2020 ended, but I’ll continue to work on it in 2021 and bring it to closure as well.

(5)          Most of all, I found I really enjoy writing. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, or have been a writer, but never actually took or made the time to sit and actually follow through with a project. I cannot begin to tell you how many projects were more or less completed that found their way into the shredder. It makes me feel very good and accomplished when I push back from the keyboard knowing I’ve created something whether it’s a book chapter or a simple blog about gardening or a memory of something in my past. I plan to continue writing because it brings me pleasure.

So, finally, tonight at midnight, 2020 will come to an end. They always picture the end of the year as the grim reaper. This year in particular, the grim reaper has to be totally and completely exhausted from all the souls he harvested throughout the year. I know, like most people, I will be exceedingly happy to see the end of this year.

The beginning of a new year, 2021, is always pictured as an infant. I seriously hope 2021’s infant has had every single vaccination available. I seriously hope this coming year will be 1,000% better than the past year. It is my fondest hope, wish, prayer that by July 1^st, if not before, we’ll once again be able to congregate, exchange hugs and kisses, and look at shelter in place as something in our pasts, that those of us alone don’t HAVE to be alone, but can simply CHOOSE to be alone when we wish to be.

So, I’m wishing each and every single one of you a HAPPY and HEALTHY  2021. And to ensure that it is HEALTHY, please continue to wear your masks, use sanitizer, wash, wash, wash those hands and STAY HOME as much as possible. I’m also hoping, praying, and wishing that come 12/31/2021, this pandemic will be over and that we all learned something extremely valuable from the experience that will make our lives more wonderful going forward.

MEDICAL ISSUES...

 

Seem to have stolen my creativity, or perhaps I’m just more exhausted from the ordeal than I think I am. Saw the MD for a check-back yesterday and all looks fine, although he did tell me that it could take up to a couple of months before I’m totally restored to where I was before this happened to me.

          And, I’m not done with visits to Kaiser. I have to have another chest x-ray tomorrow, more blood work in a week, a video chat with my MD the end of next week, a video chat with a pulmonologist the following week, and today I’ll be scheduling what I assume will be another video chat with cardiology. The fun seems to be leaking into 2021, so I’m going to pretend it’s still 2020 until it’s all behind me.

          I’ve utilized Kaiser Permanente more since 12/1, than I’ve used them in the last two years. The Good Lord willing and the creeks don’t rise I’m hoping to return to that pattern beginning 2/1/2021 and keep it up all through 2021 and quite possibly 2022. I’ve really had enough medical visits to last me for quite some time.

          Today I'll be getting a massage and I'm sure that will make me feel ever so much better. Meanwhile, I thank you all again for your concern and support during this, the most difficult time I’ve had medically since breast cancer in 2000.

DOCTORS AND NURSES...

 

were absolutely amazing. I may have complained about the hospital food and television, but I have absolutely no complaints about the care I received from the doctors and nurses at both Urgent Care and in the hospital. It was so terrific; I plan to write letters to them expressing my thanks and appreciation for how well they all looked after me.

It began with the doctor I saw on Thursday. He called first thing Friday to inform me my red blood count was very low and I should go immediately to Urgent Care. When I arrived at Urgent Care, I barely sat down before they called my name. They took me right in, asked me a bunch of questions and then moved me into a room. Clad in a hospital gown…they are really the height of fashion…there were more questions, blood draws and a trip downstairs for more CT scans.

No one really talked to me about the scans, but the one doctor who seemed responsible for me, eventually told me I was going to be admitted to Swedish Cherry Hill. He did tell me they couldn’t find a reason for why my red blood cell count had gone down, and that it was continuing to drop. They’d get it all figured out at the hospital, he was sure.

Three very nice young men came to transport me to the hospital. They made sure I was comfortable, strapped in securely, and made conversation, probably in case they thought I might be frightened. It was my first time ever in an ambulance, but since I wasn’t critical, they didn’t turn on the lights or the sirens. That was perfectly fine, but it might have been fun to go faster than we did because the roads are so very bad, I felt every single bump and dip.

I figured they would leave me in the ER, but instead, they walked me and my gurney through the hospital. I believe if they’d decided to abandon me at any point, I’d probably still be trying to find my way out of that maze. We arrived at what was to be my room for the next six nights, transferred me to the bed, got their paperwork signed and wished me well.

My nurse that night was Kevin. He was from southeast Asia and I think he told me he’d lived in Hawaii. Actually, his father was in the armed forces, so he lived in a lot of different places. He made me comfortable, took my vitals and returned every four hours to take my vitals again. It was still very difficult to breath.

The next morning, I met Dr. Phan who would be my doctor through Monday. He assured me they would get to the bottom of my problem. Kevin was replaced by Regine and Kristin and they popped in and out with medications, checking my vital signs, checking on me throughout the day. They didn’t allow me any food until late afternoon and I’ve already blogged about that.

Sunday morning, nothing had been accomplished and I felt worse than ever. When Dr. Phan came to see me, I cried like a baby and told him I felt hopeless, that I just kept getting worse and there didn’t appear to be any rhyme or reason. He patted my leg several times and assured me they would figure out my problem and make me well again.

After Dr. Phan left, I got up to go to the bathroom without notifying the nursing station. I was barely back in bed when I had three nurses around my bed. One of them gave me holy hell for getting out of bed. She told me I wasn’t to move from that bed, that they were going to bring a commode or bed pan. The other two nurses were Regine and Kristin and I never saw the one who raised hell with me again. Later on, I learned the reason for the big upset…my heart rate climbed precipitously to 133 during my little trek and I was very short of breath.

I don’t know if it was the tears or exactly what, by come noon that day, I was transferred to an OR where Dr. Demopolis removed the fluid from around my heart. I had been told it was a “moderate” amount, but the doctor and all his assistants (4 of them) seemed amazed at the amount. Dr. Demopolis left the drain in the pericardium which was a good thing since there was even more fluid that leaked out over the next 12 hours or so. The nurses had to change my gown and top sheet twice, plus the bandages twice more to keep up with the fluid that kept draining.

I cannot begin to tell you how much better I felt when the fluid was drained away. The huge rubber band that had been compressing my chest was gone and I could almost take a very deep breath without any pain or discomfort. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

On Monday, the pulmonologist, whose name I didn’t learn and who had arrived the day before while I was in the OR, came to my room with his assistant who handled the ultrasound. Together, they inserted another drain through my left back and removed the fluid that was in the plural membrane. Again, it was way more than they expected. This doctor also told me that as my lung re-inflated and expanded I might have some pain. Fortunately, there was no additional pain and I could actually take a very deep breath.

Regine and Kristin continued to take care of me on Monday and on Tuesday, it was just Regine. They didn’t come to check on me quite as often as before, but that was okay because I was getting better all the time.

Dr. Phan’s last day on the floor was Monday and he had indicated maybe I could go home on Tuesday. Dr. Burney replaced Dr. Phan and there was no way I as going to be discharged on Tuesday. She didn’t have any answers to any of the questions as to why this had happened to me nor were there any answers to why I had become anemic so quickly. It was possible I could go home Wednesday, but she wasn’t going to make that decision until then.

On Wednesday, my nurses were Courtney and Jen. Courtney had just graduated from nursing school and Jen was her mentor. They also took excellent care of me. Unfortunately, Dr. Burney still didn’t have enough answers to allow me to go home on Wednesday, but she more or less promised I could go Thursday morning.

Dr. Burney kept her promise even though she still didn’t have any answers. She told me the fluid in the lab wasn’t growing anything, so it wasn’t a bacterium, but perhaps had been viral. She also thought perhaps the anemia was due to the amount of inflammation in my chest, that my bone marrow had decided to take a break from manufacturing those important red cells. However, the blood work did indicate the red blood cells were now increasing as opposed to the decreasing they’d been doing.

It’s been decades since I spent any time in the hospital. Yes, I had both hips replaced and a shoulder repair, but they got me up and out within a day or two. Then, the care I received was excellent, but I wasn’t there long enough to really understand how it all worked.

I found it amazing that no matter who the nurses were that came on duty, my care was seamless. In the space of those seven days, I had at least seven different nurses and the ones going off-duty handed off my care to the incoming nurses. It was absolutely amazing how they coordinated so there were no mistakes or slip-ups. And, they’re not just nurses who administer medical care, but also are responsible for removing the trash and soiled linen. In the past, there was janitorial services who took care of that and I don’t know if it’s a COVID thing or if those chores have been added to a nurse’s workload.

Finally, let me say how amazed I was at the trash that was generated just in my room. I know it’s necessary to keep everything fresh and antiseptic, but the amount of trash generated each day when it came to blood draws, glucose checks, vital sign checks, etc., was simply mind-boggling. Someone really needs to invent that medical thingie they used on all the Star Trek programs…it monitored your body and fixed it without the use of all the products we now require.

I have absolutely no plans to return to the hospital for another stay, but it is exceedingly wonderful to know the care provided is extremely effective. Being either a doctor or a nurse was never a goal for me, but I’m thankful there are wonderful people who choose those occupations. They are a very special breed of human and I don’t think we can ever thank them enough for the work and care they provide.

HOSPITAL FOOD...

 

absolutely sucked. There are supposedly two menus, one for diabetics and a general one. I somehow ended up with the general menu, but I’m sure the diabetic one couldn’t have been much better. About the only thing I found palatable was string cheese.

To begin with, I wasn’t allowed to eat anything on Friday. They finally brought me a sandwich just as I was to be transferred from Urgent Care to the hospital. It was turkey, lettuce and tomato on wheat bread. Unfortunately, the tomato slices had been placed next to the bread, so it was a soggy mess. Hungry as I was, I barely managed to eat half, if that.

On Saturday, I was again not allowed to eat in case they decided to put something down my throat. It was late afternoon when I was finally allowed to order food. Breakfast menu was no an option, which I would have preferred, so I ordered a salad and a toasted cheese sandwich. I did not order salad again because it tasted terrible and the toasted cheese was barely warm. I did order the toasted cheese once more to go with tomato bisque which wasn’t terrible, but did not in any way, shape or form equal what I make myself at home.

Breakfast wasn’t bad when I was allowed to have it. I usually had cheerios or hot oatmeal with milk or yogurt and peanut butter toast. That was palatable, but I dreaded lunch and dinner, because no matter what I ordered, it wasn’t very good. In most cases, I ate what they brought, but the thought of a juicy hamburger (the hospital one was extremely dry and flavorless), slice of pizza, or anything else from outside sounded delicious.

Since coming home, I’ve made my own tomato soup and toasted cheese, had a small round of softened brie with crackers and ordered Mexican food yesterday when I went out shopping. Today I’m going to make some spaghetti sauce and have that with a fresh salad for dinner.

So, another reason to avoid hospitalization, and perhaps another way the hospital encourages its patients to return home to their own cooking as soon as possible.

HOSPITAL TELEVISION...

 

absolutely sucks, and yet the only activity available when I wasn’t sleeping or dozing was to stare at the television mounted on the wall. There were maybe 15 channels from which to choose and practically none of them had any decent programming. One day I said something to one of my nurses who laughed and said she told patients the hospital planned it that way so we patients would be eager to return home to our preferred programming.

Programming consisted of some shows I’d never watched before and plan to never watch again. One was called Hoarders. Now, I realize the people profiled in these programs are seriously mentally ill. But where were their family and friends when the problem first began? I know my own family would do an intervention should they realize my house was being overrun by rabbits or cats, filled with piles of garbage or so filthy it would be amazing I could live in such squalor.

Family members were included in these programs, but they seemed almost as bad as the hoarder or had simply given up on trying to make the hoarder’s life better. I also found myself wondering how and why these individuals would agree to have the hoarder’s life profiled in such a program or agree to be part of the process when it came to trying to improve the hoarder’s life. I’m sure they were all paid some kind of fee for their participation, but I’m also sure that the hoarder went right back to his or her bad habits once the cameras left.

Another show was called Dr. Pimple Popper. Again, I’m sure the people with the problem were paid to participate as well as given free treatment, hotel and travel accommodations. I only saw a couple of these shows before that channel was replaced by fuzziness, but it was sort of sickeningly amazing. I think the doctor’s name was Lee. She was Asian and very nice and appeared to know her business. I didn’t see her pop any pimples, but I did watch as she removed lipomas from the various patients. In every case, the patient left feeling as though s/he had been given a new lease on life because the ugly growth or problem no longer existed.

Then, there were the commercials. Seriously, have you ever known anyone who received a car for Christmas with a HUGE bow on top. I’m sure that does happen, but not for anyone I know. There was even one commercial where the husband bought not one, but two vehicles and told his wife to choose…she chose the one he wanted for himself. Seriously, I don’t know anyone personally who could afford to gift one car, let alone two whether it was Christmas or July 4^th.

What about all those glittery diamonds that flash or slowly rotate across the screen. Again, I don’t know anyone personally who would go out and spend thousands on a Christmas gift of diamonds or any other item that would cost so much. I believe most of the people I know, and my own family look at the Christmas budget and spend less than a hundred dollars on gifts.

I found myself wondering who all those people are who do have the funds to spend so outrageously. I also found, and perhaps my age has something to do with that and the fact I don’t need or want more stuff, myself grateful my Christmas wish list is small and reasonable.

Now that I’m back home, the TV programs I’m watching are the ones I choose from a much larger variety and the commercials are either nonexistent or I fast-forward through them. And, you know what, I don’t miss seeing all those fanciful commercials one single bit, plus even if I run across programs like Hoarders or Dr. Pimple Popper, I won’t be tuning in to watch. What I’ve already seen, was way more than enough.

MY ILLNESS HISTORY

 I have decided to write this blog post about my recent medical experience mostly for my own edification as well as to make sure my memory bank doesn’t suffer and refuse to provide a withdrawal when I want it.

So, to begin. I turned 75 on November 20^th, and was miserable the entire day because I’d received my second Shingles shot the day before. I suffered from every single side affect listed on the handout and quite possibly some that weren’t listed. I was miserable.

This was followed by a number of good days and a great Thanksgiving. The day after Thanksgiving, my left lower wisdom tooth decided it was not happy. On Saturday, I called my dentist’s emergency number not once, but twice. I did not receive a reply for the entire weekend, but had some of John's Percocet which I took to keep the pain at bay. When I finally got in there Monday afternoon, they took x-rays. When my dentist came into the room, I strongly believe she flat out lied to me. First, one of her staff had told me she had the emergency phones and that they didn’t always work well if she was at the cabin. Then, the dentist herself told me that she had been able to only hear part of the message and then somehow lost it. She did say she heard Paula and I’d really like to know how many patients she has named Paula. Finally, when I told her I called not once, but twice, she didn’t have a response. I’ll be changing dentists after the first of the year because I cannot now trust her.

My dental exam was followed by a trip to Bellevue to see an endodontist. His staff person did some kind of a full head x-ray for which I was charged $245, and I still don’t know the purpose of that x-ray. The x-rays sent by my dentist did indicate I might have an infection in that wisdom tooth, so I’d need to return for a root canal the following day…another trip to Bellevue. I did, the root canal was done, and I seriously believed my lips were going to split because my mouth was held so wide open for more than an hour. Not a pleasant experience, but, hey, it was done and now I’d be just fine.

On December 3^rd, I woke up with horrible chest/throat pain. When I checked in with the MD, I was told to go to Urgent Care which I did. I was not having a heart attack and no matter what they tried, they could not knock the pain back (from a 9) to less than a 6. They also did a chest x-ray and a CT scan. Neither of those showed a reason for the pain in my chest and trachea. They sent me home without resolving the issue.

For the next two weeks, I chatted on-line with doctors, had an appointment with one on December 14^th, had some additional blood work and returned home. On December 17^th, I saw a different doctor who ordered additional blood work and sent me home. This doctor called me the morning of December 18^th, told me that my red blood cell count was extremely low which could indicate I was bleeding internally. I should go directly to Urgent Care, not collect $200, and quite possibly plan to be transferred to the hospital for a day or so. My granddaughter came and drove me to Urgent Care where she dropped me off. That was the last I’d see of family for a week.

In Urgent Care, they drew more blood, sent me for another CT scan of both my chest and my abdomen. After a few hours, the decision was made to admit me to Swedish Cherry Hill (SCH). I got my first ride in an ambulance which was quite bumpy and very short, but the three gentlemen responsible for me were exceedingly nice. At SCH, they took me down hall after hall, up an elevator and surrendered me to room 418E.

My nurse was a very nice young man named Kevin. He did all the things nurses do, i.e., vitals, checking back on me, etc. I was not to get out of bed alone but was supposed to call the nursing station and say I needed to get up. I really hated that part. Friday passed into Saturday and a very nice Dr. Phan came to see me. He asked questions which I answered and proposed some treatment options; however, Saturday ended without any treatment or definite plans for treatment.

When Sunday morning arrived, I was feeling extremely hopeless. Dr. Phan came in to see me and all I could do was cry and say I felt hopeless, that every day I was worse than the day before. I don’t know if it was the tears or what, but by noon, I was downstairs in an OR with a cardiologist and his team. There is a membrane around the heart called the pericardium. It usually has a bit of fluid to ease the heart’s beating. When they put in a drain, almost 12 ounces of fluid was removed from the pericardium. It was a lot and was sent to the lab to see if it would grow any bacteria or whatever they would look for there. The cardiologist left the drain in place and said he would return on Monday to take it out.

Back in my room, I couldn’t believe how much easier it was to breathe. It had felt as though there was a big wide rubber band around my chest which kept me from breathing normally, plus it hurt when I breathed. The pericardium continued to drain and the nurses had to change the bandages and my nightgown and top sheet at least twice. They then had to change it a couple of more times, but by early Monday morning when a new bandage was applied, it remained dry until the following day.

Lungs are also surrounded by a membrane, called the pleural membrane. It too has a minimum of fluid to ease the expansion and contraction of the lungs. The pulmonologist had also arrived the previous day to remove the fluid from my lower left lung, but had to reschedule because they were doing my heart. This happened Monday afternoon. Using an ultrasound so he could see where the needle should go, a drain was placed into my lung and almost three cups of fluid removed from the pleural membrane. It didn’t take long before I could pretty much breathe normally and without much in the way of pain.

The cardiologist did not return to remove the drain on Monday. Instead, another cardiologist appeared at crack of dawn Tuesday and pulled it out. It looked like I’d be able to go home Tuesday afternoon. I was so happy about that.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, I now had a new doctor. She was not in favor of sending me home since there were no answers as to why this had happened to me. The one thing all the doctors agreed on was that my problem was not caused by the root canal. She wanted to wait another day and see if there would be some kind of report from the lab showing bacteria or something else that was responsible. She was also concerned about my anemia and wanted to make sure my red blood cells were being replenished before releasing me. Okay, I could wait until Wednesday.

Wednesday came and it was the same story. Not enough information available and the doc didn’t want to send me home only to have me return in a day or so. She also wanted to have a follow-up plan so that I didn’t just go home and that was it. I could wait another day, and she was fairly positive I could go home December 24^th.

Finally, late morning on the 24th the doc came to see me. She would be discharging me that afternoon and my discharge papers would contain all the information she was providing verbally. That information was basically that my problem was idiopathic, meaning tests hadn’t been able to identify a reason for this happening. It could have been a virus. She also hypothesized that because of all the inflammation in my chest, my bone marrow had simply decided to make fewer red blood cells, but my count was rising and looking good.

She placed me on 600 mg of ibuprofen for a week or two to make sure the chest inflammation was reduced, another med called colchicine which helps with the heart and a tummy med to keep the ibuprofen from playing havoc there. An appointment was made for the following week with my regular doctor. Cardiology and Pulmonology would be calling to set up appointments to follow up and make sure I was continuing to heal well. At about 2:00 pm on December 24^th, my daughter-in-law, Angie, picked me up and brought me home.

There are two additional things that concerned my doctor. There is a lymph node behind my breast bone that is enlarged, plus the CT scan showed a new nodule on my right lung. The doctor wants pulmonology to check those out just to make sure the lymph node swelling is due to my chest inflammation and the nodule is nothing about which I should be concerned. This is all good and I don’t expect to receive any bad news from any of these appointments.

I’ve a feeling my little medical episode will continue into the new year, but won’t last beyond the initial follow-up appointments. Meanwhile, it’s amazing how weak I became after not walking or doing exercises for most of December. I plan to begin working on that tomorrow, December 26^th. First, I’ll do as much of my exercises as possible. Then, I’ll walk just around my cul-de-sacs a few times a day to build up my stamina. I don’t know if I’ll be ready for the hour-long walk I was doing with my neighbor, but that is my goal and whether I reach it on January 1^st or January 15^th isn’t important…just reaching it is what matters.

One final note. I know I posted about being horribly depressed at the beginning of December. Perhaps Karma (not my dog, but karma karma) decided I needed a lesson about how good my life really was/is. This medical episode was Karma’s way of showing me how important it actually is to be HAPPY and HEALTHY. It’s my most serious wish that Karma take note of my efforts to return to the HAPPY person I generally am, that I CHOOSE to be HAPPY as well as my efforts to be HEALTHY by renewing my exercise and eating well efforts.

I think this is a good lesson on which to end an absolutely horrible year. I’m looking forward to 2021, to exercising, walking, laughing, spending time with family and friends, eating very yummy and healthy food and seriously appreciating all the positivity that inhabits my life on a daily or hourly basis.

Finally, while I know not everyone who posted encouragement and positive thoughts on Facebook reads my blog, I’m so very very grateful for each and every person’s comment. Each and every one made my ill heart swell just a bit, brought a smile to my lips and reminded me how many of you love and care for me. I’m exceedingly thankful all of you are a part of my life.

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES

 

I know I’m not the only one that is sad today because we cannot be with our loved ones enjoying a wonderful meal, watching the kids and grandkids open their gifts and exclaim in delight. I also know I’m not the only one that is going to miss the comradery, hugs and kisses and the sharing of Christmases past. But rather than actually be nothing but sad, I thought I’d post some memories from the 55 years of Christmases I shared with John and our extended families.

We didn’t have Christmas stockings in my family, but John had them in his, so our first, maybe second Christmas, I made stockings for my mom and dad, sister and brother, John, myself and our cat and dog. They were all hand-made, no machine work involved. I have no idea what happened to those I made for my family, but mine and John’s reside in the attic in the Christmas stuff that did not come down. This will be the first year since they were created, they do not hang above the fireplace.

When AJ came along, I made him a stocking. It has a snowman on it and I had to take an emergency knitting lesson from the lady next door so I could make the scarf that went around Frosty’s neck. AJ still has his stocking and hangs it up every year. He was very careful with his stocking and it doesn’t show too much wear and tear.

When Thor was born, I made him a stocking and it has a Santa on it. I’m not sure if he hangs it up every year or not…I’ll have to ask him. Thor was not as careful with his stocking, so I had to repair it a number of times and stretch it back into shape when it was returned to the stocking box after Christmas.

Fang the Wonder Dog also had his own stocking as did the dogs that followed; however, I think along about Midnite or Mia, I began to cheat and would pick out the name and sew in the current animal’s name. Poor Karma and Kaizer have never had stockings and I’m sure they feel terribly slighted. Fang’s stocking was buried with him under the apple tree.

Our various cats also had stockings, but again, I believe I began to cheat and picked out the name of the previous owner in order to replace it with the current cat. I’m not sure if the one in the stocking box in the attic says Zooey or not.

I believe it was the first Christmas after we moved into this house that our best friends Patty Lou and Mike gave us a camera for Christmas. It was beautifully wrapped with a big hot pink sticky bow on top. We opened it Christmas Eve before we got ready for bed. John got in bed first while I was brushing my teeth. When I went into the bedroom, he had adopted a sexy pose and the hot pink bow was on the end of his Johnson…”Merry Christmas honey…here’s your gift.”

What a very nice, fun, exciting and thoughtful gift, however, when I pulled the bow off his Johnson, the bow also removed a layer or two of skin. I didn’t actually get my Christmas “gift” until a few days after. We laughed about “my gift” for years and years.

When John worked for Nordstrom, he had to work Christmas Eve in order to haul out all the Christmas decorations so they’d be ready for a big sale day on the 26^th. For a few years, we didn’t have to buy a tree, but had a very nice and usually very different tree courtesy of Nordstrom.

AJ had probably just turned year a few months prior to this Christmas. I bought my sister a blanket and couldn’t find a box large enough, so I simply wrapped it in paper and put it under the tree. I don’t know what fascinated AJ about that gift so much, but he pulled it out and ripped the paper off…not just once, but every single time I re-wrapped it until I just put it up until I could wrap it and know it would stay wrapped.

My parents moved to Lynnwood from Chehalis when AJ was going on two I think. We inherited their china cabinet (which is in AJ’s house now) and table which had three leaves. That was the year I said I would host Christmas dinner because I didn’t want AJ to have to leave his Santa toys. For years, we hosted dinner on Christmas day, and at one point I think we managed to get about 23 of us around the two tables we put together in an “L” shape.

And, every year, we would take photos of all of us in a group in the living room as well as photos of just the immediate family. As AJ married and then Thor, the number in the immediate family increased as well. It’s been a few years since we stopped that tradition. One of the last family photos was actually taken after Christmas and has the five of us (John, moi, AJ, Angie and Thor) in front of the fireplace. We’re all holding a poinsettia and I’m in the middle of the group, surrounded by all these tall people. I love looking back and seeing the photos of all the family and friends who so enriched our lives and our Christmases.

We also liked to have our trees flocked and John’s sister would come out and flock the tree for us. One year we had to do it on our own and that led to hysterical laughter. You use the exhaust end of a vacuum cleaner, somehow attached to the bag of white stuff. AJ was supposed to have been in bed, but he was in his bedroom window watching John and I in the open garage. I don’t know to this day what it was we did wrong, but one of those bags exploded and flocked the two of us as well as our surroundings. It was pretty funny.

When AJ was young and continuing through Thor’s Santa years, I would paint a Santa head on the dining room window that faced the street. Santa was saying, “Ho Ho Ho.” I didn’t do too bad of a job and I think one neighbor still wishes I’d kept doing it. I don’t remember if it was the last time or not, but Thor was a baby and I was rushing to get it done during his nap. I finished and didn’t think anything about it until my friend and neighbor laughingly pointed out that Santa was saying, “Oh Oh Oh” from the street. At a Chocolate and Canvas event with my grandkids, the painting I did was that Santa head saying, “Oh Oh Oh” and I gave it to my friend for Christmas. I don’t know if he hangs it up every year, but it brought us some laughter which is always good.

Then there was the year when Thor was maybe four years old. I was having great difficulty with depression and other things in my life. Thor and I went out in the pouring rain to find a tree and had no luck. Back home, without even taking off my coat or attending to Thor, I called John at his work site and proceeded to yell and scream like a banshee (The real me was standing in the corner wondering why in the hell I was being such a bitch.). John couldn’t do or say anything because the lady he was working for was home. That evening when he arrived home, he told AJ to watch his brother, told me to get in the truck and took me to Chubby and Tubby. There, he said, “Pick one.” I did.

On the way home, I apologized profusely for my horrible behavior and explained that I simply didn’t understand why I acted that way some times. I also made John promise that if he had to have me locked up, he’d bring the boys to see me once a week so they wouldn’t forget their mom. The answer to my problem came three months later when my new doctor listened to what I had to say, ran a blood test and verified that I was menopausal. The hormone replacement therapy she put me on made all our lives, but especially mine, ever so much better.

For years, John was also very good about putting a little something naughty in my stocking. After the first time, I learned to quickly stuff that little something in between the couch cushions for later retrieval or into my bathrobe pocket. The one that comes instantly to mind is a little china pipe that looked exactly like a penis. I really didn’t want to explain to the boys the purpose of this little gift or the others that tended to bring pleasure to us both.

I don’t really remember when we began to host Christmas Eve, having the kids and grandkids here for dinner and present opening. Just a couple of years ago, it snowed during the evening, so their getting home in time for Santa to come became problematic. Fortunately, a friend with a four-wheel drive was happy to come, pick them up at the bottom of the hill and deliver them to their houses. Santa arrived that night just as scheduled. I cannot now remember if I hosted Christmas Eve alone last year…apparently my memory bank isn’t providing any withdrawals today.

Cannot forget the Christmas cards and newsletters. I wish I’d begun doing a newsletter the year John and I married because once I began them, they are a small synopsis of what happened during the year. I reread them and remember so many things that I don’t necessarily often think about. John was a great one when it came to Christmas cards. He kept the list of people who were sent a newsletter and those who received a card. As we received Christmas cards or newsletters, he’d mark those senders off. The last few years, he became a bit grinchy, saying, “We didn’t get one from them, so we’re not sending them one this year.” Depending on who it was he’d decided to ignore, I’d either go along or surreptitiously send out a card. John was also responsible for the card display. He strung fishing line across the dining room and as the cards arrived and were checked off, he’d hang them from the line. Some years, I’d have to get cranky to get him to take them down more than a month later. I always thought he tossed them, but when I went through all his papers, I found a number of years-worth of cards he’d saved.

Then, of course, come the holidays where your kids no longer reside with you. You get up in the mornings and the house seemed so empty with just me and John. But, later, as we went to our child’s home(s), I would take great pleasure in seeing the ornaments, collected and given each year as they grew, hanging on their own tree. I also take pleasure in watching them and their spouses prepare and host the brunch or dinner or dessert. It always makes me feel warm and happy to see our kids and their families continue traditions originally initiated when they were much younger.

So, just happy/good memories here today. Of course, I’ll add this Christmas Eve when I received the best gift ever which was being released from the hospital, and this Christmas Day when I'll my own Swedish pancakes for brunch, mainly because it will be just me, myself and I here with Karma and Kaizer. Christmas will last a bit longer this year as well because I didn't get my gifts prepared for distribution. That will happen over the weekend. But that’s okay. Christmas 2020 won't become one of my most cherished memories, but I’m sure like the hot pink bow, the naughty stocking gifts, tree flock, it will be remembered and while maybe not laughed about, at least acknowledged because we all made it through the worst year in history. We'll have great plans for Christmas 2021 where there will be lots of presents, hugs, kisses, laughter, good food and best of all, being together in the very same space.

AND THE BEAT OR PAIN GOES ON

 

Didn’t get a thing written yesterday because I once again went to Kaiser about my problems. Since my PCP didn’t have any openings I ended up at the new Ballard Clinic…oh, so very nice…with an MD I’d never seen before. I was seriously hoping he would be my Knight in Shining Armor, and while he did a very thorough exam and ordered additional tests, including another COVID which was negative again, nothing was really resolved.

So, the root canal was 12/1 and I’ve been fairly miserable since 12/3. This morning I called the endodontist’s office and left a message telling them Kaiser had pretty much exhausted any solutions to my problem and the only one left is to have my jaw x-rayed to see if there’s an abscess or infection in the location of the root canal. I’m hoping they call back this morning and can see me this afternoon or Monday for sure.

Meanwhile, I continue to take the antibiotics and still record a fever of either close to or above 100 degrees each night at bedtime. I lay on the couch with the doggies to read or watch television and the next thing I know, I’m waking up. I haven’t cleaned the house since Thanksgiving and yesterday I noticed there are clumps of dog hair in places, not to mention the dust that’s piling up on everything. And, just where does all this dust come from anyway?

At least not having any Christmas decorations was a choice I made before all this. I can imagine how badly I’d feel if I had been looking forward to decorating and making everything sparkle and shine. I think my house and that of neighbor Ross who is in Costa Rica are the only homes in the neighborhood that do not have a single twinkling light exposed…you can just call me the neighborhood grinch.

There’s the update. With any luck at all, I’ll be able to sit down and compose the next chapter of Water Rights which will include the confrontation between Hannah and Luke.

NEVER ENDING????

 

Nothing new to report this morning. Still feeling crappy and wishing this would go away. So far, the antibiotics don’t seem to have done much to ease the pain; and then, to make matters even better, I’ve not only been ending the day with a fever, but the last couple nights a headache and last night a stiff neck on the right side.

I did my exercises this morning but won’t be walking. I have the chills even though my temperature comes back as normal. So, I guess it’s going to be another day of television…The Crown is quite good. I’ll also try to write a Water Rights chapter, but it’s hard to imagine Hannah and her cohorts when I don’t feel good.

Hope y’all have a great day.

ANOTHER PARTAY DAY

 

Yep, the fun is just never-ending for me, all spike heels, sequins, fancy hair and makeup. Yep, can hardly make it through these partay days. Yesterday, I did as the MD online suggested on Sunday and called Kaiser at 7:00 am. I was surprised they answered that early, but ended up with an MD appointment at Northgate Clinic at 8:20 am. Had to hussle, but I made it on time.

The MD there couldn’t come up with any new theories about the throat and chest pain, but ordered a bunch of blood work, but only the results of one has come back. The good news is the COVID test I had on Sunday came back negative.

Then, it was back home to call the dentist who said I really needed to call the endodontist which I did. Then, it was all laughing and dancing and carrying on for the remainder of the day until he finally called back at about 3:30. He, too, seems stumped over my symptoms, but ordered a new course of different antibiotics which I went and picked up at Bartell’s and hour or so after our phone conversation. Began taking last night, but so far haven’t noticed any improvement.

The endodontist is going to call me again tomorrow to check in and then wants to see me on Thursday or Friday. Yep, I tell, the fun just keeps on keeping on.

So, just in case anyone is keeping count, it’s now been 24 days since I turned 75, and of those 24 days, I’ve spent 17 miserable and in pain and thanks, in part, to pain medication, also very depressed.

Still, yesterday while eating, dancing and laughing, I decided I was really tired of feeling shitty, so I chose to change my attitude. So far so good, but who knows how long it will last if we don’t find a solution to whatever my problem may be. This morning I got up, had my coffee and did all my exercises even though having to take deep breaths didn’t feel great. I was going to walk with Kathy this morning, but since I still had a fever last night, decided being out and about and having a great time in the rain wasn’t wise and that I’d best wait for a drier time.

I just know each and every single one of you reading this post is horribly envious of my current lifestyle. What can I say…I’m just extremely lucky!!!

WATER RIGHTS, CHAPTER 14, LAST QUARTER

 

         In years past, once the cattle had been hauled away, it was time to see to a few chores before winter came howling in with snow and ice. This year was different because Hannah had so many projects underway. Some days, she just wanted to ride off into the great blue yonder and not have to deal with another invoice, decision, person or anything else. Yes, she’d helped her gramps, but she’d never been solely in charge before. Then there were the new plans she was trying to bring to fruition, not to mention her growing belly.

Hannah had realized shortly after the cattle sale she needed someone to assist her with a wide variety of things, from decorating the little abodes to keeping track of invoices, orders, marketing plans, building a web site to working with Dale to figure out just how much food he’d want to order when the time came.

She posted a notice in town and was surprised when Anita Valdez who’d been a few years ahead of her applied. Anita had gone off to college and received a degree in accounting and computer technology. Hannah didn’t really understand what kind of computer technology, but when Anita showed her examples of web sites, she’d either helped develop or developed herself, Hannah was ready to hire her on the spot. When Anita’s resume indicated she also had some experience in marketing, Hannah just knew she’d found her assistant. Now, if it looked as though they would be compatible, she could cross one more thing off her list.

Hannah met Anita at the local café for their interview. She was hungry all the time and barely went more than a couple of hours before stuffing her face, so she could do two things at once. Anita arrived in a business suit and heels and Hannah felt horribly underdressed in her ranch clothing. They had a very good talk and by the time Hannah had finished a hamburger and fries, followed by a chocolate milkshake, she was ready to offer Anita the job.

In addition to the salary Hannah offered, she also offered mileage since Anita would have to drive out to the ranch to get to work each day. She also offered the possibility of Anita working from her own home if she chose after they’d established a routine. Once the business was up and running, there was also the potential for benefits if they made any money. So, Hannah offered and Anita accepted.

Hannah realized she’d been exceptionally smart to look at hiring someone to be her assistant because each project seemed to grow exponentially and become a lot bigger and more demanding than she’d expected. Finally, by the end of November, the concrete pads for the various little houses were in place. Not only that, but Anita had worked with Hannah long enough at that point for Hannah to trust her and delegate. Since Hannah had chosen several different styles for the tiny houses, she left it to Anita to work with the vendor to get all of them to the ranch and in place. Fortunately, it wasn’t that difficult and her contractor took care of making sure each had power and plumbing.

An offshoot of these little homes was the fact she and Dale had discussed and implemented the building of a dining room and kitchen that was closer to what had been the open pasture. They’d decided that if all ten of the spaces were rented and they planned to provide meals, then Dale would definitely need more space, not to mention some place for the guests to eat.

Hannah also handed off the spring planting to Anita. She’d already chosen a landscape company and drawn up a plan, so all Anita had to do was liaison when the time came. They could both imagine how the grounds would look come spring when the landscaping would be done. Small gravel paths would wind throughout and flowerbeds would surround the dwellings. Sod would be brought in for the areas not planted with flowers. Hannah had also chosen several fast-growing trees that would provide shade for the buildings and grassy places. It would be beautiful once it was finished.

Dale pretty much took on the building of the dining room and kitchen because he knew just what he wanted. He still talked major decisions over with Hannah, but she trusted he knew what he was doing, so rarely, if ever, said no to one of his ideas. She even consulted Dale when it came to purchasing furniture for the dining room. There would be at least ten tables that could be combined in whatever combination was required. A honeymoon couple could be alone at a table for two while a family of six or more could push tables together so they could all dine simultaneously.

Furniture for the small residences also had to be ordered, received and placed. Hannah did almost all the ordering from companies online. That was the cheapest and easiest way to get it. Once it arrived, it was up to Anita to move and place it in each of the tiny houses. Hannah would follow up with some decorations and/or ideas for decorations that Anita would pursue.

Anita also soon had the paperwork in hand. It wasn’t that Hannah wasn’t organized because she was. She just didn’t have enough time to do much beyond shove papers into files. Once dinner was over, she barely had enough energy to wash her face and brush her teeth before falling into bed. Hannah was so grateful to Anita and felt they were become not just employer/employee, but friends who worked well together.

By the end of November, Hannah was also showing, her tummy pooching out. She had to begin wearing maternity jeans, and they were actually quite comfortable. The fact she’d always worn shirts, sweatshirts and coats that were bigger than she needed had helped disguise her condition for a bit, but not long. Now, when she had to go into town which wasn’t often because she tried to give those errands to Anita, Dale, Joe or anyone who happened to be heading there. Unfortunately, there were things like her OB appointments, financial meetings with her advisor, attorney and bankers to keep the cash flowing, or as she often thought, gushing.

Still, even though Miz. Lionel had paved the way and the majority of the town folk were kind and sincere with their congratulations, there were others, especially her old classmates, who looked at Hannah, lowered their eyes to her belly and then returned to her face with eyebrows raised. No one came right out and called her a slut, but she could practically see what they were thinking. Rather than shrink away from any of them as she had done all during her school years, she looked right back at them, her one eyebrow raised in return and practically dared them to say anything. She had already decided she wasn’t going to be ashamed or feel bad and she wasn’t going to let any of them make her so. She’d conceived her baby because she was in love, and she’d love this baby no matter what. Hannah now wished she’d been strong enough in high school to give those nasty kids the stink eye.

Something else that came up Hannah hadn’t thought about was the name for her new venture. It was already known as the Wakefield Ranch, but her advisors all thought she should come up with a new name that would encompass all she was planning to offer. To quote Anita, she needed a new “brand,” and didn’t mean the piece of iron you heated up to put on your cattle’s hide.

Hannah fiddled around with the idea of actually making a new brand. The old one was WF for Wakefield. What if she added an R, so the brand would be WFR, but all linked together. She talked to Anita about it and saw Anita become a bit excited. “You know, Hannah, that might work out just great. Besides a new brand, you need some kind of a tag line. Why not use WFR—Be wild, have fun, as you roam the hills and canyons of Wakefield Ranch.”

“Anita, what quick thinking. Do you really think that would work?”

“I don’t see why not. You want people to come here and have different experiences than what they’ve had in other places. You’re going to offer trail rides, rides alone for those who have experience, hikes, play at the waterfall, as well as teach your guests how to care for their mounts. I like it. Let me see what I can whip up as far as design. I’ll play around with it and email you some ideas.”

“That would be great,” Hannah said, giving Anita a quick hug. “One more thing I can cross of that damned list. Ooooh!” she added with a quick huff of breath. “I think he’s moving around in there.”

“Well, it’s about time that Little Mite did something. Let me feel.”

Hannah took Anita’s hand and placed it low on her belly. “I’ve felt him for a long time, but the movements never seemed strong enough for anyone else to feel. There, did you feel that kick?”

Anita laughed and said, “I sure did. And, you’re positive it’s a boy?”

“Yes, when Dr. Harvey did the ultrasound, there was definitely an extra appendage which he said was a penis. I couldn’t really tell so I had to take his word for it. It was hard for me to tell it was actually a baby. I was expecting something that looked like a baby and that picture on the fridge sure doesn’t look like one to me.”

“I’ve seen my sisters’ photos and agree that it’s hard to imagine those various blobs and segments to be a baby. The only thing I’ve ever really been able to find is the head and I think that’s only because it’s so big. Have you thought of a name since we were just talking about the company name?”

“Well, I know for sure his middle name will be Thomas after gramps, but I haven’t decided on a first name. His last name will, of course, be Wakefield. I figure I’ll have something thought up in time for his birth.”

Everything was moving along perfectly, or at least Hannah thought so, plus she was positive that Anita, Dale, Joe or Dave wouldn’t hold back when to came letting her know if things weren’t going well.

Until the new dining room and kitchen were ready for use, Dale continued to cook in Hannah’s kitchen and everyone who was there at dinner time came through the mudroom to the kitchen. Fortunately, the table was just large enough so everyone had a place. Anita didn’t usually stay for dinner, but Hannah asked her to stay the second Saturday in December.

There was lots of talk and laughter around the table as everyone chowed down on Dale’s delicious dinner. Once dessert was served, Hannah stood up and requested everyone’s attention. “I’ve been over WFR TREK;S finances and discussed this with my advisor and have decided to give each and every one of you ten days off with pay, beginning December 23^rd. You’ve all worked so hard to help me move ahead with my new plans while keeping track and taking care of everything else that needs doing. So, some time off with pay is my thank you. Of course, if you want to stay here for those ten days and simply loll about, that’s fine too. You’ll all get your check before you leave or stay on December 23^rd.

“Of course, come January 2^nd, I expect every single one of you to be here, and ready to work your asses off so we can open WFR TREKS Memorial Day weekend. There’s going to be a lot to do between the beginning of the year and opening day.

“I’m also going to have to rely on many of you about the middle of February when the Little Mite arrives. I have no idea if he’ll be early or late or just how difficult he’ll make my or our lives, but I promise I’ll do the absolute best I can. And, I know without asking, that you’ll all do the best you can for me. So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year a bit early. “

Hannah sat down to applause and Dale stood up. “I know I’m speaking on behalf of everyone sitting around this table. We know it hasn’t been easy for you, but we appreciate the fact you’ve worked just as hard as any one of us. We also appreciate the fact your first thoughts and renovations had to do with our comfort. You may be doing this for the first time all on your own, Hannah, but you’re doing a mighty fine job. You’ve made us all feel like your family.”

As everyone got up to go their separate ways, each person came by and either hugged Hannah or took her hand, murmuring words of appreciation or approbation. When only Dale was left, Hannah laid her head on the table and let the tears come. “Hey, hey, let’s not have any of that. No reason to be sad Hannah,” Dale said as he patted her back.

Hannah sat up and scrubbed at her eyes, rubbed her nose on her shirtsleeve and said, “They’re not sad tears, they’re happy ones. I felt so alone after gramps died and now, after just a few months, I have a brand-new family. Dale, I’m so very grateful. Thank you for your kind words.”

Dale gave her one more pat and headed for the sink. “Now you get on out of here and get your butt in bed. There’s no way I’m strong enough to carry you down the hall if you fall asleep right there, and I know how fast sleep can overtake you. Don’t think you’ve seen one TV program in the last month without my having to shake you awake.”

Hannah smiled and laughed a bit. “I’m sure it’s just the Little Mite who’s sopping up all my energy, but you’re right. I need to head for my bed. Good night Dale.”

SORRY, SORRY...

 

there’s no continuing chapter of WATER RIGHTS today, although I did begin and almost finish a chapter.

You know how it goes, however, when you play you have to pay, so that’s what’s happening with me. I had so much fun at all those partays the day before that I simple didn’t have the energy to sit at the computer long enough to finish the chapter. And you know how it is when you have a horrible hangover…you’re hot and sweaty and your head aches no matter how many Tylenol you take.

But, all those hugs and kisses, pats and squeezes were absolutely worth the price I had to pay yesterday, and I truly do wish I actually had a hangover, but, once again, I’m trying to be funny about something that’s actually not.

I have no idea what’s going on with me. My tooth/teeth continue to plague me with a certain amount of pain. But, is it really my tooth/teeth that is responsible for the pain I feel in my chest and far back in my throat when I take a deep breath? And, did the endodontist choose the wrong tooth, so there’s an infection gaining ground that’s responsible for the rise in my temperature at the end of the day…100.2 last night, but normal this morning?

I’ve prepared a note to the MD and am contemplating going online and sending it off to see what s/he says, but I really don't want to return to Urgent Care, a hotbed of COVID possibilities. Or, should I wait until tomorrow and call my dentist. I just don't know. What I do know is that my 75^th birthday was horrible with side-affects from the shingles shot and the majority of days since have brought me a lot of pain and discomfort which, of course, makes me horribly depressed. At this point in time, I almost feel like a stay in the hospital would be a positive in my life because there would be people there who would figure out what’s wrong with me, take care of me and make me all better.

I don’t remember who said, “…into each life a little rain must fall,” but damnit, I’m really really tired of the dark clouds and pouring rain that keep falling on my head. I am ready, more than ready to be done with all this shit. I’d really like to get back to doing my exercises and walking every day, but it’s hard to accomplish those things when you don’t feel well or are having pain.

C’mon 2020, hurry and get the fuck out of here. I’m ready, past ready to be DONE.

UPDATE:  Chatted with MD, going for my third COVID test in a bit, will call both dentist and MD tomorrow. So ready for an answer.