Hard

Eric had been in the ICU from Wednesday to Saturday. He moved back down to the oncology floor on Saturday afternoon, but he still hasn't been up and out of bed much. He is so bruised all over and he sleeps all day. One of the doctors said that his body has been through a lot and that it's normal to sleep a lot, to feel tired.

I plan on going home today, which I think is a good thing as I now have a full-blown cold. Before it was just the sniffles and a tickle in my throat. I wote a mask when I was in his room, but now I think it would be better if I went home for a few days to recover. I do NOT want to make The Boy sick. He's got enough on his plate.

It's so hard to watch him be sick. The feeling of helplessness is dragging. When he is awake I constantly ask him if he wants or needs something, which is not what he wants. He just wants to wake up and see me there. I do help him when he asks, but mostly he just wants our emotional support. The nurses and doctors are there for his physical support.

I met a very nice woman whose husband is here receiving treatment for leukemia. She is nice, but that did not prevent me from wanting to punch her in the face, not to mention her husband's. I heard him say "That colored guy told me to go..." What the F? It is not 1950 and the word colored describes objects not people. I had been on the phone in the family room with my parents talking about Eric's status.

When I got off the phone she said it sounded like we were having problems too. I said yes, that he just got moved down from the ICU. She said her husband has blood cancer, she couldn't think of the word leukemia. I said that Eric did too. Then she goes on to say that he probably isn't as bad as her husband who has acute leukemia. I said, yes that's what Eric has too. Then she asked me what the ICU is... wtf.

Okay, first off don't assume your husband who is up, walking, talking, and being faily jovial is worse off than The Boy who just came down from the Intensive Care Unit since his blood pressures was around 40/20 and they couldn't find a pulse, and whose kidneys weren't working. Don't even assume that shit. And the ICU, what the hell... that's a common term.

She's exactly the person I never want to be. We are all here with problems or we wouldn't be hanging around the Mayo clinic.

As I watch the staff here work, I know I want to go back to school. I am still not sure if I want nursing or med school, but the university in the town Eric and I work in has both options. So, I can look into it when I get back and maybe start something when Eric is well again.

Kemia Chemo

I read my last post and would be willing to return to the bathroom problem if we could take back what has happened.

On Thursday, July 17th, Eric was diagnosed with leukemia. It's an acute and rare form. He is currently being treated by the knowledgeable staff at the Mayo clinic. He is in the ICU receiving dialysis since his kidneys are under- functioning. After a very scary Tuesday, his blood pressure and oxygen levels are better. He looks so fragile hooked up to all those tubes, monitors, and gadgets. And it's hard to see The Boy as fragile as he is a very big guy.

He's been sleeping a lot. I couldn't make it down here until Wednesday afternoon but am so glad I am here to be with him. Even if all I do is sit across the room and watch him. It feels so much better than sitting at my desk agonizing over how he's doing, how he's feeling, and what's going on.

Life takes on some new meanings when things become scary. Little things don't seem to matter so much anymore. Living is where it's at and living good is what it's all about.

Lately, I'd been talking about what I want to do with my life and having seen quality care in action, I want to go into medicine. I haven't decided if I want to be a nurse with the more hands on approach or a doctor with the scientific side being more heavily weighted. Whichever I choose, The Boy, said I had to do something in oncology. I think I can handle that.

Here's to chemotherapy, here's to the doctors and nurses, here's to all the people who care, and here's to living large and living hard (not hard living, but living hard).

To The Boy- I love you. That's all that needs to be said. I love you.

Tick Tock

My life has begun to revolve around the bathroom. I shower in the morning, by the time I get to work I usually have to pee, then for some reason my intestines believe that they must expell all their contents.

I have had diarrhea every day since June 30. It's becoming unpleasant. I had some tests performed and they came back negative. So, I am still pooping and have no answers. My next test is to complete eliminate all dairy products. If that doesn't work and the medical community doesn't have any other answers, we're moving on to wheat gluten.

Hurley, our first puppy was spayed on Monday. When I went to pick her up at the vet's office, I nearly cried. She tried to lick my face just once, but wasn't up for it. I just held her in my arms and made a cozy place for her on my front seat. When I brought her in the house, I placed her on the loveseat with blankets. I sat with her most of the night just petting her head and stroking her back. She kept looking at me with these sad eyes that seem to say to me "Why did you let them do this to me? How could you?"

I left her on the couch all night, where I don't believe she moved. Norris, oh little Norris. I picked him up and let him sniff Hurley. Since she spent most of the day in a kennel with other animals around, she smelled a little funny. Well, apparently to Norris she smelled scary. He started shaking and looked terrified. Eventually, he came around and just sat next to his pal and sister all night. The next morning and definitely this morning, I knew she was better.

She still can't boing boing jump like she used to, but she's putting her front paws up on our legs like she always did. My sweet little girl will always be a little girl now. Well, I may be lying about the sweet part.

Simply News

Hello all.

I simply have little news. I am not quite sure if I could dwindle it down to no news, but perhaps scant new shall work.

The Boy was approved by his insurance company for his weight loss surgery. This means he has a month and half to lose 50 pounds. I hope no other obstacles get in his way or he shall lose his way on this journey. He will seek refuge in the fridge and will no longer try to obtain this goal of weight loss surgery. He is having something done that is different. Here is a website if you feel like checking it out: http://www.duodenalswitch.com/

I, on the other hand, lost five pounds since weighing myself last. I am wondering if this is due to the constant diarrhea that I have. I went to the doctor for it since it lasted a week and I am frankly tired of spending many minutes, maybe even hours in the bathroom each day. I was the lucky patient who had to give a sample... yeah, that kind of sample. Now, they recommend that you get a bowl, such as a Cool-Whip or Margerine tub to use. One that's clean and has been washed. I knew I didn't have any of these at home so I headed to the dollar store where life's dreams can be fulfilled. Well, at least my need for a cheap throw-away bowl. They had four plastic bowls for a dollar. I scooped one pack up and went home.

I would have given the sample at the doctor's office, but there was literally nothing left in me. So, at home armed with my bowl, a spastic bowel, and a plugged nose I scooped my poop. The vials I received had little spoons attached to their covers. After I was done, I threw my quarter away. It was disgusting, but hopefully I'll garner some answers. It'll be a five day or so wait on the results so I'll just be sitting here (most likely in the bathroom) waiting for the answers.

In other lab news, my father is awaiting his results on the tests for lyme disease and West Nile Virus. He does not have Mono.

Reading Myself

I am not a neat person by nature. I leave plates, cups, and other dishes in the living room. I throw my dirty clothes on the floor in my room and leave them as they pile into big heaps. I let mail and clutter mount up on the dining room table.

I am not a patient person at times. I wish for things to hurry up. I read books so quickly that when they are over I wonder why I read so fast instead of relishing the moments. But it is in the slowly down that the details can really be seen.

I was starved for affection. I knew I loved human contact, but was too scared for a long time to let anyone that close to me. I used to tell people I didn't like being touched so they could never reject my reach. I used to tell people that I didn't mind being alone all the time, but I would hope that someone would walk by and at least say hello. The Boy fills my needs in that department. There are many I love you's, many hugs, kisses, hand holding, and other verbal and physical sentiments that allow me not to lie anymore.

My mind works in mysterious ways. Today I was thinking about dust mites that live in our mattresses and each our dead skins cells. My thought was, How do they get there in the first place? I read that the eyelash mites are spread by facial contact with those who have the bugs in their eyelashes. Nearly 96% of people do.

I am not trying to pretend to be someone I am not. I am being who I always was, but no one ever knew. Now they know. And now I know, too.

Following

While we waited for the man to find a tire, we wandered around a bit looking at the old cars and thinking it was too bad that neither of us knew how to restore cars because there were some once beautiful cars that could be wonderful once more in the right hands.

When the man had asked if I wanted to go in the house to see the puppies, Eric saw me turn my head towards the living quarters. He later asked if I was actually thinking of going in and I said no, I was just wanting to be polite and show interest. I don't know if this is my Midwestern upbringing or an example of Minnesota nice, but it's a silly thought nonetheless (is that word hyphenated, I couldn't decide).

When the man finally found a tire that fit on our trailer, we paid him, and were oun our way to our free lawn mower it was well past ten o'clock. It was nearly eleven when we arrived at the house to pick it up. We easily pushed it on to the trailer, the man who gave it to us was very nice even at the late hour, and we were excited to see it was small and cute. We started on our way home. Things were swell once more.

Then, about an hour from home, another loud banging noise occurred. The other tire on the trailer blew. We were in the middle of no where, in the middle of the night, and this trailer was going no where. We pulled off the road onto a dirt road and followed that to another dirt drive. It led to a gravel pit and sand pile, which stated that no one should enter without some sort of training. We entered anyway and parked the trailer off to the side. We left it there with a note on the steering wheel saying we'd be back for it tomorrow.

Eric and his mom went back the next day after purchasing a new tire and retrieved our "free" lawn mower. Until yesterday, the mower sat at his parents' house untouched by his mechnic brother. Now, it's been moved to his brother's house where I am assume it is still untouched.

More Adventures to Come!

Rolling on the River

Sometimes I get antsy and I want excitement in life. But then I remember in what forms excitement can come...

Eric and I went on a little journey one evening. We were going for two hour drive along the country side to pick up a free riding lawn mower. Now, that is correct. It is a free riding lawn mower so who wouldn't go pick it up. We didn't know if it worked or not, but free and fixing should be cheaper than new and working.

Along the way we chatted and life was swell. Then, a tire on the trailer we were pulling blew. I'd never experienced a blown tire before. The noise is incredible and the jerking of the car definitely grabs your attention away from the driving zone. We drove back to the nearest town, not even small enough to be called a hole in the wall. The only thing open in town was, of course, the bar. We called all over the area looking for places that were open and that had the tire size we needed in stock. No such luck.

But then Eureka! A man steps out of the bar and hears our dilemma. He tells us he lives in a junk yard and should have 40 tires like that, well at least 20, and when we finally are in the car with this man in greasy jeans and a dirty sweatshirt, the number dwindles to 15. We swing by the trailer, hitch it back up, and drive on the tire rim for about a mile. However, that mile took us deep into Deliverance country. Well, not quite but the backwoods of Minnesota, at the very least. And I do mean, the very, very back woods.

The man, whose name I never got, did indeed list in the middle of a junkyard. Rusted, half cars all around, a pile of rusty metal just waiting to give us Tetanus, a dead cat, and a trailer house with broken windows, dirty blinds. A place that conjured many visions of horror movies, a blonde girl in a baseball cap running in between the cars, hoping to find safety, only to fall down and find something awful under one of the cars.

The man goes off looking for a tire. He finds tires that are the wrong size. He tries to put them on. They do not fit. The man goes off looking for a tire. The man does not come back for an hour or more. It is getting dark. Eric tells me that he will lock me in the car when darkness hits.

The man tells me I can go into the house if I want to see the Rotweiller puppies. Not until much later, do I realize there is another man in the house. His voice suprises me when he answers the phone. The trailer was so quiet until his tenor voice carried out the broken window.

To be continued.

Time melts

Ah, hello good blogger folks.

The world has been spinning with greater speed lately on my spot on the world. I swear I was almost flung off this earth once already when the spinning seemed so fast that I didn't know it would ever stop.

Stop it did. Well, the car stopped. The car wasn't spinning, but the alternator died. Eric and I were in Minneapolis which is where he "doctors" (according to my grandma's vernacular) concerning his weight loss surgery. We had two appointments on Friday, but in order to make those appointments we had to rent a car, drive his dying car to the airport, pick up the rental car, make sure his car made it to the mechanic, and then get to his appointments, which we did. We were just an hour late for the first one, oops.

We picked up his car later that afternoon, dropped off the rental car, and pulled over to a park to play with the GPS unit we had borrowed. The car died again. This time it could not be coaxed to life. We called AAA who kindly picked us up, found a mechanic that was open past 5 o'clock on a Friday, and were just generally helpful. So, the car was fixed once more and for the day we were nearly 800 dollars poorer.

Another piece of what you could call machinery was seemingly on the fritz for about two weeks. Eric was experience bouts of dizziness, ligh-headedness, shortness of breath, and weakness. The doctor discovered he had an enlarged heart and after a number of test found out that there is nothing physically wrong with his heart. It is englarged due to his size, but when he exercising it makes him dizzy but he has to lose weight in order to have his weight loss surgery, but... viscious circle.

Our elder puppy, Hurley, is simply the devil. She has taken to tearing up and eating the linoleum in our kitchen, she has chewed on the handles of two of our good knives, she has ruined two dog beds, just last night she chewed through her harness (which I don't even want to know how she put herself into that pretzel position to do what she did), she's chewed a book, eaten plastic bags, etc. She's the devil but she's cute. Alas, I think I'll have to keep her. I just need new kitchen flooring. Anyone want to spring for it?

Spinning Jenny

Where I live, the snow has finally melted. What is left behind is a dirty, mucky mess topped with dried half-rotted leaves, and garbage blown by the fierce prairie winds that never seem to cease. I too, some days, feel as though I never seem to cease blowing around, being torn in one direction after another.

At work, we were moved back to our old job duties for two weeks and I did not enjoy this step. Thankfully, once they were all caught up, our team was able to return to our normal job duties. This was a welcomed return.

Second, We are torn between food, fuel, and medicine. This economy is cutting us thin, shaving our happy temperments into shreds. The commute is eating our money, the heating oil is eating our money, and we are eating our money. Perhaps someone should be tell those hungry monsters that it's time to stop chomping on the American people. If the Republican government had a backbone or a conscience, they would impose a cap on fuel prices, tax the oil companies for any profits over a certain amount, or something. But no, they stand idly by because they are making more money than ever-records profits for the past few years while the rest of America is falling into record debt.

I read an article about how someone blamed Americans for living beyond their means. I understand this and I agree to some extent. Some people bought houses too big and too expensive for their needs. They wanted the high end life on a middle priced budget. But I think we are living reasonably. I have a seven year old car, and I don't have a remote starter, I don't have power windows or power locks. My boyfriend has a ten years old truck because it's for his business and it's what he fits in. We bought an inexpensive house and skipped buying the stainless steel appliances insteading choosing the cheaper white ones. We have two small puppies who do not wear designer collars or have excess frills. We don't go to the movies, we don't have the internet, we don't have big screen tv's, we don't wear brand name clothing except for tennis shoes, we don't go on vacations, we don't do so many things and still we cannot make it.

It's a struggle month to month. And there is no reason for this except to line some oil man's pockets. I don't understand why cars in America don't have the same fuel efficiency that Europe's cars have had for decades, why we don't have all hybrid cars, why they aren't building more wind farms, solar energy cells, why the government isn't helping us tighten our belts like Jimmy Carter did in the 1970's by putting on a sweater and turning down the heat.

So far, they are just turning up the global warming heat and the heat on America's paychecks which are burning through faster and faster. I do not approve of this message.

Time and Again

Hey all in Blogger world!

So much to tell, so little space to tell it...

Maybe.

We have another addition to our family. His name is Norris. He is a pure bred Chihuahua raised by The Boy's mom. Norris was part of the last batch of puppies The Boy's mom was having. He weighs a whole four pounds and has lots of fun with his sister Hurley. Though, Hurley does get a little too rough sometimes for such a little guy. He was the only puppy without a home, so The Boy and I adopted him. I think he's good for Hurley who is quite hyperactive. Norris is named after Chuck Norris. After all, a four pound dog needs a tough name.

We now have a full house and are enjoying the puppies quite a bit. My parents met their Grand-Puppies a couple of weekends ago and loved them.

A funny story to tell about them....

The Boy and I enjoyed the wonderful weather outside yesterday. We grilled, took down the storm windows, put up the screens, watched the puppies frolic in the yard, and sat in the sun. Whlie sitting there watching the puppies, I noticed Norris who was not on a leash wander off to the side of the house. When he came back to where I could see him, he had something in his mouth. Norris must have thought it a real treasure since he pranced in front of a leashed Hurley just like a prince flaunting his new pony, just out of her reach. However, Norris's "I have something great and you don't" attitude was too much for him to handle. He had to show it off to Hurley, who promptly stole it from him once Norris was in Hurley's reach. Curiosity finally got the best of me and I went over to where they were playing. The object of their affection and admiration was a turb, yes one of Hurley's dried up winter turds.

I took it away from them and they were no longer the royalty of refuse, they went back to being their old selves.