Holiday Weekend

Hi Blogger Friends.

I'm hanging in there. 

To address a comment or two.

Yes, vitamin D does cause depression, but I take a vitamin D3 supplement and just had my blood work done, and it's A-okay. But thank you.

Yvonne said I'm resetting. I liked that.  That's what it feels like in a way.

I talked to my doctor and had my blood work done as I mentioned, and she gave me some happy pills.  Eh. 

I am strong and I will get through this. I am trying to be active.

When Rick is going to the gym. I am going with him but I don't go inside.  I walk the outside trail since the humidity and temps are down. Everyone goes into the gym. The walking trail winds through the woods behind the gym.  It's lovely. I like walking, and it's good for my back too.  I used to have sidewalks where I lived, but I don't here, and walking on the road is treacherous to me.  The doc seems to think exercise is also key.  While I do enjoy nature, I love the solitude.  

Doc also suggested a therapist but none take insurance and I honestly can't afford $250 an hour or more.  

So there you have it. You've been updated😏

I must admit, I was embarrassingly guilty of watching too much TV during this time. Nothing great, just staring at the tube.  

Although I admit I enjoyed the Thursday Murder Club with Helen Mirren, Pearce Brosnan, and Ben Kinsley. (This was filmed in the UK)

I had never read the book, so I can't say if it's close to the book.

I enjoyed it. Not great but interesting. And gosh, Pearce is good-looking at every age, isn't he?  Damn!

Like The Great British Baking Show, I have to Google words to be sure I know what the hell they were saying. Chuffed got me.  Is that good or bad? 

"I'd be chuffed,"  I assumed, pissed, but looked it up anyway because she didn't look pissed.  Ooh, very wrong assumption.  

It means pleased, happy, etc. That is for all of you out there, like me, who didn't know. Also, on  The Great British Baking Show, they made something with suet. Geez, I have no idea what that could be, but it sounds dreadful. As does kidney pudding and schoolhouse pudding.  What the hell are they eating over there?  Kidney pudding just sounds YUK.  

Back to the movie - I had to laugh when one woman said to another that she had on a nice jumper.  Rick said, "She's not wearing a jumper."  I told him in the UK, that means sweater.  All he said was, Huh. 

In other news.  I made Rick dinner, and I lost my balance as I pulled the rack out of the oven.  My arm hit the rack and I burned myself. Ouch.  It's amazing how much a burn hurts, and this one is small.

I've done worse.  Think I'm accident-prone?  Rick suggested putting me in bubble wrap. He may be on to something.

During this time, I also watched The Price Is Right with Rick. He records it, which is funny in itself.  Anyway, I watched a young person who was a big dufus win and make it to the showcase showdown.  He won a fabulous sports car, but it was manual, and he said he didn't know how to drive it, so he passed on it. C'mon. I'd learn if I could win a 50K car.  Okay, that generation can not write in cursive, read an analog clock, or drive a manual transmission. Blows me away. They make tik-tok videos.

I'm losing hope in that generation said this old person.

There are a lot of car thieves around these parts. It's a big problem we see daily on the Ring app and the news.  

I told Rick we should buy a standard next. No fear of them driving off in it. 

I didn't learn until I was 18, but I learned. 

I drove a standard until we moved to Seattle. The hills were a killer at a stoplight/sign.  I came home one day after a terrible day of hills and said that I may have to get an automatic car for ease while living here. I told a person I worked with about this, and she laughed and said she had to do the same thing after she moved there.  That made me feel less like a loser. 

I'm leaving you with sad and funny Memes.

To all my American readers - I hope you all have a fabulous holiday weekend.

The Ghost of Peg

I know it's been a while since I've been here. 

Things are out of whack right now.

It seems that finally, all that shit, the move, stroke, chemo, surgeries, pain, and caregiving is all over. I just fell into a puddle.

I have no energy, no motivation, no real pleasure in anything.

Not my typical Type A personality. I think it's called depression.  

But I will work my way out of this.

I don't like it here.  For a woman who is a bit of a control freak, I don't like that I can't fix or control this. But I'm gonna sure try. Where did this come from?  Why now?  It's going to be brighter, I know it. Please?

In the meantime, I've got a husband who does all he can to make me laugh.

I honestly thought I hid it well. But this man knows me sometimes better than I know myself. He doesn't like "quiet Margaret/Peggy"  It freaks him out he said to me yesterday. I did laugh at that.  

Sunday at lunchtime, he wanted to go to our favorite fruit and veggie stand.

It is on a farm.  Attached to this place is an awesome ice cream shop.  

I LOVE their orange sherbet and vanilla shake.  I have been known to only go to the ice cream shop, which is 100% different than Rick. He prefers the veggies and fruits.  To me, that is just damn weird.

We walked around the stand, and after we paid, Rick grabbed the bags out of my hand. I asked what he was doing.  He said, "I'll put them in the car and we can get a sherbet/vanilla shake."

"I really don't want one, Rick. I'm sorry."

He puts his palm on my forehead and asks, "Who are you and what did you do with my wife?"  He got a smile, and he just sighed.

Later that evening, we talked about this. 

I get it, he's worried about me. 

He reminds me he doesn't know what is on TV at any given time and needs to ask what channel. I can't live without you, he says. Who would do all my medications, I could die.  You don't want that on your head, do you?  Besides how will I be able to drive anywhere without your co-piloting skills?  How will I know when I do anything wrong? 

I admit he was making me chuckle.  

What can I do to help you?

I told him to not take this personally if I am withdrawn and quiet. Hug me and be patient. This feels like it did before my thyroid was diagnosed.  I'm just off. If I'm not out of this soon, I will see Dr. Alison, fair?  He agreed.

So please bear with me. 

I'm still reading y'all.   

Crime Shows in the Car

 I have shared with you many times about my love of crime shows like Dateline, 48 Hours, 20/20, and the like. I especially like Dateline. 

Knowing that about me, imagine my surprise when I saw this was on Sirius radio. How did I not know this?

I got in my car to go to the eye center last week. It appeared that Rick changed the #7 channel to Hair Nation.  yuk. #7 was a NYY station.

So as I get a slowdown on the highway, I begin to look for my channel, and on the way there, I come across Dateline.

Yes, the Dateline on TV.

To say I was thrilled to listen to this for my hour drive is an understatement.

By the time I got to the Eye Center, I didn't want to get out because I wasn't sure of the killer yet.  Damn it, I had to get out of the car.  So I will never know.  

But on the way home, I listened to another story.

I wanted to ask Rick why he didn't use a channel number that was unused instead of deleting mine. But once inside, I forgot all about it.

Then this morning, Rick had to have an Echo test.  

He got into the car, and Dateline was on.  

He texted me when he arrived and said, "Really?  Even in the car?"

I knew immediately what he meant.  I just sent him back a smiley face.  What can I say?  I'm addicted to Keith Morrison and Dateline. 

When Rick got home, he told me he hated to admit it, but it was nice listening to ole Keith on the radio, and he added, I also knew it was the neighbor who killed her.  

Oh, that made me chuckle.  

I think I have created a monster because now I find him watching Dateline when he can't find anything else.  

Smoke On The Water

Saturday, my 'alarm', better known as my bladder, went off at 4:50am.  

I tried to talk myself out of getting up. Don't think about it, I tell myself. 

That makes me think about it. 

I'm whining to myself, 'I don't wanna get up!' That is not helping.

My bladder won.  Honestly, I am beginning to dislike my parts and organs!  They just no longer function at the level to which I have become accustomed.   

My mechanic (Dr.) seems to think there is nothing wrong with me. 

But she is wrong.  

I digress - I got up and went into the hall bathroom so I didn't wake Rick.  Normally, I would not turn on the light.  There is a tiny light on the bottom of the receptacle cover in the bath, but it wasn't helping me.  

I couldn't seem to find the soap container/pump to wash my hands. 

No glasses, it's dark, I even laughed out loud.  Then I remembered I took it apart to clean it, and it is drying in the dish rack. I turned on the damn light. 

I got soap from under the sink. 

Well, now I am certainly awake. I might as well get up for the day.

Just as I entered the living room, there was an enormous boom that shook the house, and then the living room lit up like all the lights were on.

I ran to the window. I saw sparks and smoke across the street coming from one of the poles. At first, I thought all of this was caused by the street light, but then I realized it had to be the electrical pole. Just as I was about to turn from the window, the boom sound hit us again, and I saw the sparks fly this time from the pole to the ground. Then smoke.  I was wondering if all that heavy rain the night before was what was keeping this from catching fire.  

I looked up the number to call our electric company. I sure didn't think I should let this go.  Then another boom/strike. This time, the sparks and lights were like fireworks. Many more sparks were flying now, and for some reason, that concerned me. I hoped they didn't think I was crazy, but better crazy than cremated alive.

I got a voicemail from the electric company. They told me to leave a message.  This was the 24-hour emergency line. So much for emergency service. I did leave a message, but I figured I'd never hear back on a Saturday.

By this time, Rick is coming into the living room and says, "The bedroom is lighting up like crazy. Do you know what is going on?"  I point to the window.

He knelt on the sofa to look out the window, and boom!!  Rick jumped.  

He saw the sparks and the smoke on the ground.  

When I couldn't reach the electric company, I called 911 and said, "While this is not an emergency, I think it could be a fire in the making.  

I explained. Within minutes, a firetruck was outside our home, and just as they pulled up, another boom, the sky lit up, and sparks went off.  As they walked around the pole, sparks came flying down, and the firemen scattered. And here I was, worried it'd stop and they would think I was a prank call or something.

The firefighters did what they could and waited until the electric company arrived. They spoke to one another, the firemen left, and the linemen did their jobs.  They were here for 1.5 hours, but it's fixed. All of this was done before 7:00 a.m.

Because the heat dome left us, it was a nice morning. We were sitting on the porch, drinking our coffee and watching the linemen.  When they were done, one of them walked up our driveway just a few feet and yelled, "You are the ones that called, right?"

We said we were. He thanked us for calling and just turned around and walked back to his truck. Rick wanted to ask him all kinds of guy questions, but he didn't seem to want to talk. 

The two poles.

This is from the porch, showing the puddles and how wet it was. I still think that was good because that smoke scared me. But what do I know?!

Saturday afternoon, I stopped at the grocery store. Rick was out of his favorite cereal, which he refers to as Colon Blow.  Lovely isn't he?  

There was one box left on the shelf.  It was all the way in the back of the shelf.  

The shelf was a bit high. I went across the aisle to jump and see if there was a box in the back that I could not see. Yes, there was.  I looked both ways - no one was coming. So I tested the shelf.  Yep, it'll hold me. I began to climb when this cute red-headed freckled-faced boy, all of 13/14, said, "Here, let me help you, ma'am."

I thanked him a million times.  I asked if he was the superhero for old short ladies as his mom came around the corner. 

He laughed and said, "I guess I'm going to need a cape."  Cute, cute kid.

 

I'm normally like the girl in the pink sweatpants.  In fact, this is the exact shelf that Rick's cereal was on, and I had to reach all the way to the back. I couldn't reach it.  I jumped down, and that is when the kid saw me. 

Oh well. If I bring Rick, he can reach all those things up high. But if I bring Rick, the grocery bill will be double. No exaggeration!

What's Going On?

I had another shot in my eye on Tuesday.

"Betty" isn't cooperating.  

In October, he would like to give me a shot right into my corti - somthing, basically, directly into Betty.  

Currently, when this steroid goes into my eye, it is absorbed by Betty, but it doesn't go right into the mass. It's been doing it's job until now.

This time, they want to try this new injection. It will hurt, he tells me.

My regular shots, I don't even feel.

I asked, What will you do for my pain?  

Hold your hand, the nurse said.

Fuck no.  

Apparently, I am given nothing except the numbing of my eye as they do currently.  I want drugs.

This time, Rick is definitely driving me. 

He kept talking about the pain, so that scares me. He also mentioned chemo again. I said NO.NO.NO.

When I got home, my eye was swollen more than it ever has before.

It was closing as I was driving. Not good.  I got home and lay on the sofa with an ice pack on my eye. It had a pulse.  I had a sip of gin and fell asleep. Which was what I was going for.  I awoke to a swollen eye and mild pain, no biggie.  By the next morning, I was fine again.

I wish they could just remove this mass, but I would lose my sight completely, so they won't do it. I don't want to lose my sight completely either.

Then I asked my doctor to check my new eyeglasses because I am certain the new RX is wrong. I can't see shit out of the bifocals.  So the doctor checked them and indeed they were wrong. They were a 2.00, and I need a 2.50, which is what my Rx said.

I've been using my $20 readers from the drug store. I will have to take my new glasses back and have them fixed.  It should be free.

Duke is a teaching hospital, so there is always a resident with my doctor.

The resident he had on that day removed my scar after the cataract surgery.  

On Tuesday, Dr. S walked into the room and said hello & then said, "So the Bitch is back"🎼 🎵 in a sing-songy way.

The resident gasped.  

The dr. and I laughed. 

Dr. S explained, "She has named this stubborn mass as Betty.  Then we decided the song by Elton John, The Bitch is Back, should be played each time this happens. So, it's okay, Dr. C.  You okay, Margaret?"  

I laughed and said, "I started it, Dr. S just goes along with me to keep the patient happy."  

The resident had no idea who Elton John was, I swear. He nodded his head and said,"Okay."  Dr. S and I had a laugh.  Dr. S doesn't appear to be that old, but Dr. C looks like a baby.  I honestly don't think Dr. S is 40 but close.

So let's add these up shall we?

Can't hear

Can't see

Can't spend a lot of time bending over in the garden.

Can't reach shit because I am shrinking.

Now they are playing hair bands in the grocery store, and I'm singing to Dead or Alive and then Here I Go Again by White Snake. I was never a big fan of White Snake, but there I am in the grocery store in the canned goods aisle singing to my happy self. 

What The Hell is Happening?!

         Yep, I was singing this song from 38 years ago.