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!!!