The cheese stinks

I have mentioned I do not like change, right?

First I updated my browser to version 9. To quote one of those despicable business propaganda films, "They moved the cheese." Then my internet provider merged with a compatible service. I like the tool bar but dislike the home page.

There are 32,000+ reasons I stress. My Windows mail no longer works and I do not like web mail. I systematically killed about 12,000 messages, 25 at a time. Before I was done, the mail server started giving me the old 999 error message. So I google 999 error message. Essentially, "whatever it is you are doing, you are messing with the bandwidth, therefore you are not allowed access for awhile."

The point: I do not see any rational reason for the changes. Did they improve my ability to do what I use the internet for?

The shrimp at Red Lobster had lots of garlic, but tasted so good. I also enjoyed the conversation with Boopie and the Youngin'.

My sats have fallen about 5 percent since I got sick. My mind went along for the ride.

Later, Dude.

Claws It

I sat in my easy chair this afternoon and stared glassy-eyed at the room. In one corner sits a pyramid-shaped scratching post, hut, cave, well, you get the idea. The $10 on sale cat amusement object endured the skills of  four other cats. Sharp claws over the years left the carpet covering in strings. Viewed from a certain angle, the pyramid looks like Cousin It from "The Adams Family." Every now and then Pogo scratches it.

Feel worse today than I have in the past couple of days.

Later, dude.

No patience for this

Somehow, with help from me, my email got all messed up. The ATT tech got the emails downloaded off the server into my inbox in my Windows mail. Only problem after 30,000+ emails spanning a couple of years, it would not stop. I rebooted the computer and it started over. Same problem after the second time. I finally quit the Windows email program. I do have two email addresses on att.net but I am not crazy about the idea. I am not sure the send part is working either.

Frustration.

My ear/jaw hurts, which means I probably have an ear infection, too.

Dude, I so miss you right now.

Later.

Sod it all!

The prednisone shakes begin.

My cable TV went off. I called the tech. He had me punch two buttons. Fixed. Apparently I hit cable off instead of TV off. I am no techno genius.

I think I messed up the email account I use for personal stuff. I am sure it has a simple fix, I just do not want to mess with it now.

Boopie and the Youngin' and I plan Red Lobster. Yummm. I look forward to catching up.

Nap time.

Later, Dude.

Better than you are

I find the recent postings on FB about CF and PH amusing. Some of the comments indicate the groups seem to share community though the diseases are not alike. Yet they share similarities, most notably transplant. Yes, CFers can have PH and some do. A double whammy.

I would love to do nothing today. The maintenance guy has to add another coat of mud. I hope that means no more than 30 minutes. I do not feel well enough to make nice.

A crazy dream woke me up about 3 a.m. I was crying and got arrested for something. I usually do not remember dreams.

I am ahead in EPL, no matter how briefly. Two more days of matches. You would be proud, Dude.

Later.

Not well after all

I left the house this morning to visit the vampire. I got there plenty early and the nurse took my blood. She asked how I was.

After wheezing and coughing for a bit, she said she would tell Doc. He got in the office a little early and saw me. He had the tech give me three breathing treatments, one right after another. He had X-rays taken (good news it is not pneumonia) and wrote prescriptions for two kinds of antibiotics, more prednisone and liquid albuterol to neb. He wants me to do treatments three times a day until I am well. Oh yes, and the nurse gave me a shot of Medrol. Doc made the prescriptions refillable for three more times, so I can just call them in if I get sick again.

I hope this clears it up. I hate being sick. With all these treatments, I imagine I will be tied to the house most of the day.

The maintenance man has spent most of today working on my plumbing. Right now he is putting up new sheetrock where he had to cut the wall to get to the pipes. Then he will reseal and reset the toilet. I surely hope this will be the end of the plumbing woes for awhile.

I really wanted a nap today. Guess that will not happen.

Later, Dude.

Bathtubs and bunnies

When you hear a glug, glug, go to check and find the sewer backed up in the bathtub on a Saturday, a holiday weekend, you know you are in trouble. I left a message with the answering service. By this time, two inches of yucky water covered the bathroom floor. Thank goodness I had cleaned out both bathroom closets. Pogo's kitty cube was the only victim of the mess. I put it outside to dry and then I will see if I should keep it or toss it.

To his credit, the apartment maintenance man called right away, said he would come as quickly as he could. He worked almost six hours. More work needs to be done, but he left with the bathroom usable. His son mopped up all the water and cleaned out the bathtub.

The Easter bunny paid me a visit. The bunny knows its stuff.

I spent most of the day asleep. My waking minutes I spent arguing with myself about ordering pizza. The do not order me won this round. I got nachos from Rosa's. Ho-hum. Nothing sounds good.

Later, Dude.

Reason to believe

Justin, my godson, fell 18 feet from a crane on Wednesday. This morning, Saturday, he sleeps in his bed. Justin's time had not come.

When I was in my 20s, I worked nights at the newspaper. I headed home one night and a teenager ran a red light and T-boned me. The car door flew open and I came out of the car. (Before the seatbelt law.) The car was not drivable. I did not have a scratch on me. My glasses came off, but they were not broken. My time had not come that night.

Over the years, other near misses occurred. Through naivey, stupidity, my nature, I placed myself in positions which could have ended in loss of my life. I choose to believe I am not gone yet for a reason. Will I know that reason? Perhaps at the moment of death I will.

I miss you, Dude.

Later.

I have my reasons

I am not sure what to say. Justin, my godson, easily could have died yesterday. Instead, he lies in a Lubbock hospital and cracks jokes.

All my godsons are special. Justin was born on my 29th birthday. He was 5 when my daddy died. He had been out playing and was running through the house. He saw me sitting in a chair crying and stopped long enough to tell me he was sorry my daddy had died. Then off he ran, a 5-year-old once again.

Justin has two beautiful boys of his own now and a stepson.

I am so lucky to have such wonderful friends who rally when I need a hug or listening ear. I am so lucky to have met those I have and I believe there is always a reason. Always.

♥ Dude.

Later.

Must be teardrops

The box with clippings of my food column sits in the middle of the bedroom floor where it has been for more than a week. The box also contains letters from readers and some recipes from a holiday food contest I conducted for five years. I put the box in the tornado closet the day after I was laid off. Now I face either tossing it or putting it on a shelf in another closet. Sort of rotating stock in the hopes one day it will be gone.

No Pulitzer sits on my desk. In the kitchen cabinet rest several mugs commemorating my perfect attendance at work for several years running. Hidden away in one of the closets, two employee of the month plaques. All the "we are family, we value our employees" turned out a bold faced lie. So why keep reminders of that time? Because the box represents a body of work, the reason for being for that chunk of my life. Once I am gone, no one will want some old yellow newspapers.

I hope I am not pushiing myself on people who think I am crazy but are too polite to say anything. I am just sad.

Later, Dude.

Revolution

I keep reading about the gap between the rich and poor. I was not big on European history, but I did Google French Revolution to see if I remembered what happened then correctly. I pretty much did.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Imb4tYOk8GE

The world finds itself in a pickle.

Went to Wallyworld this morning. The workers were changing everything around and expanding some departments. I had a hard time finding things plus I did not really go in with a plan. I did encounter sticker shock. I have noticed packages getting smaller, you know an ounce here and there. The cat food does not go all the way to the top of the can anymore. The ice cream I prefer, a regional brand, has remained one-half gallon, but the price went from $5 about two weeks ago, to $6.95 today. I bought cookies instead.

I was putting my groceries into the car and had a 20-pound bag of dog food to load. A nice young woman offered to put it into the car for me. That made my day. And she took the shopping cart back into the store for me. Pay it forward.

Miss you today, Dude.

Later.

It's in the air

Today I woke up with one of those something seems wrong feelings.

I am tired of tired. My world orbits around a pile of pills and Ned the neb. Seems like every time I turn around, one or the other needs attention. A little extra sick on the side only emphasizes how timed my waking hours are. Then like a stack of dominoes lined up for the big finale, gloom grabs hold for its share and the whole me topples. I am edging closer all the time.

I am afraid I will have to call Doc on Monday. I finished the abx and albuterol today. I have another week of prednisone. I think the infection left; however, the residual leaves me gasping.

Pogo sits beside the mouse on my desk as I write. His eyes slowly close and his head lowers. I think bedtime draws near.

Later, Dude.

The crying game

I made a pretty big boo boo this morning, or rather a couple at least. My first Tyvaso treatment was at 4 a.m. I followed that up with an albuterol neb. Then my 16 pills, one of which was abx. Long story short, I got interrupted twice so I shunted eating. Then the wind started its thing so I headed for the CPAP and the couch.

I was lying there feeling worse and worse and like a friend concluded, "The little steroid burst" kept my mind traveling while my body rebelled. Then I remembered I had not had a Tyvaso treatment for nearly seven hours. Duh. Maybe if I were well, the missed treatment would not matter as much. My poor body.

This wind chills. Yesterday I ran the air conditioner. No wonder I feel awful. Oh yes, I woke up at 2:30 soaking in sweat.

Whine, whine, whine.

Some days are just like that.

Miss you much, Dude.

Later.

Same stuff, second verse

No. 500 and counting

This post marks the 500th time I sat at my computer and wrote down some of my thoughts. Perhaps we should have a virtual party with helium balloons, a sheet cake from the local bakery, a tune or two, and a toast. At least something momentous.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-5zlj49ugk

From the first post in December 2009, I laid my heart out. I examined my life, I worried about my friends and most of all I mourned. What a long bumpy ride. I marked small victories and bemoaned the times I stumbled. Guess what? Mourning does not come with a switch.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RbYKVcx0so&NR=1

Writing was an education in self. I learned what I can take and what I refuse to face. I examined the dark places and found sightless unspeakable horrors. Guilt wears an ugly robe of accusations and self-loathing. But the boogeyman fails the tough test when the light of reason reveals the truth. The white hot flames of anger seared me. Somewhere in the ashes I found myself.

I talked about my buddy PH. I fight a battle I will not win. That does not mean I am ready to quit. Just stating facts and looking for ways to dodge the inevitable for awhile longer.

Life does go on, but I do not forget. I hope I did not disappoint you, too.

Later, Dude.

Sign of the time

When I awakened from a nap yesterday, I broke down and called Doc. I figured I would tell his nurse my symptoms and he would phone in an antibiotic for me.

Well, I was wrong. The nurse called me back and asked how fast I could get there.

So off I go with a smelly body and limp hair; hufffing and puffing all the way.

Doc confirmed what I already knew -- I have bronchitis. He listened for a very long time to my right lung and had me saying "one." Then out comes the Medrol shot and the Xopenex for a breathing treatment.

He gives me a written list of what I am to do and how often. He sent me home with abx, Xopenex for nebulizer and prednisone. All samples.

I am to call him today to see how I am doing. But so far, I feel about the same. At least I am no worse. Have I mentioned lately how much I like and appreciate Doc?

K sent me the most adorable bag, which she had repurposed. She oozes talent. She probably will have a laughing fit when she sees what I am sending her.

I will be tied up most of the day doing meds. Sheesh. I imagine I will work in a nap or two as well.

I miss you like crazy, Dude.

Later.

A shot in the arm

 Bronchitis. Ugh!!

Later, Dude.

Dear Body

Dear Body,

I know you have had it rough the last couple of days. Your muscles ache from head to toes. The joints protest one more move before they are allowed to rest. Why oh why did you add the nose and throat to the script? Now the plumbing in the head refuses to work

I have watched you peak with energy. When you are on, you are on. Not bad for a semi-abused body of 62. But boy oh boy do you punish me now when you attract these maladies.

You cannot take a break with the breathing. Oxygen keeps you moving along, so you need to repair as much of the airways as possible. Since the nose plays a major role in that, I would suggest beginning there. In exchange, I will give you Tylenol to soothe those joints, muscles and head. Deal?

I know the major traffic control area in the head wants me to order you to finish tossing or putting away all those out of place objects. Sometimes the control center cannot motivate you. I understand. That means a day or two of sleep on the couch and some mindless TV show to allow you to rejuvenate.

The problem seems to be the lack of cooperation on your part. Is two days not enough? Do you need more? I am afraid if I give you another day or two, then you will revolt to the point of a strike.

What do you need to pull yourself out of this? I know you would like antihistamine, but I believe they are not acceptable. Soon your nose will look like Rudolph's.

OK Body, I will let you sleep on it and get back to you tomorrow.

Later, Dude.

Cry me a river

I went down for the count today. Exhaustion took over and I slept for most of the day. I did manage to get up to do my Tyvaso and eat. The wind hit the 60s today and I have sneezed up a storm, so being under my CPAP was a good thing.

Later, Dude.

Yep, I did it

I am fixin', like we say in Texas, to do the last Tyvaso treatment of the day. Then, not too long after that, I probably will crash. I did everything I said I was not going to do today.

I got up early. I had a wee bit of energy, so I tackled the tornado closet. First let me say I would have had a hard time putting another object in that closet. After an hour of hauling most of it out into the bedroom and on the bathroom vanity, I began the process of sorting and tossing. S&T, sit; . S&T, rest some more. Thus I worked for about three hours. By that time my energy lagged big time. So I swept the closet, emptied the bathroom of  the not sure pile and tried to pick up some in the bedroom.

I had a habit of tossing my pennies into metal cans, the kind fruitcake comes in. The boys in their many explorations of my tornado closet knocked a couple of these cans into a large box that held wrapping paper. About $20 worth of pennies I had to remove from the box. That took awhile and even though I put the box on another box and sat, I still had to bend over. Tired back!!

I realized I had not eaten more than a few crackers and suddenly the hunger monster attacked. I nuked a mixture of wiener, cheese and the rest of the beans. Then I allowed myself a mug of ice cream.

I should have dumped some more. Later maybe.

It is time, Dude.

Later.

Devil in a bag

I just opened the devil in a bag, at least for PHers. Lays Potato Chips. Made from all natural potatoes and salt (according to the bulleted information). I surely will pay for this indulgence tomorrow, but right now they hit the spot. Even Pogo stole one of  the chips and asked for another. Can't eat just one.

The wind, dust and pollen conspire against me today. My breathing sounds like a wheezing bellows.

I am tired. Too much work, not enough rest. I went to the grocery, bank and gas station today. I was gonna rest, but somehow that did not happen. Tomorrow maybe, although the tornado closet needs cleaning. Especially since tornado season could blow in with the next storm. I have had to use the air conditioner before I can sleep for several days this week. I had rather sleep cold than hot.

Hey Dude. I miss you.

Later.

Charge

I no doubt overdid myself today. A burst of energy sent me into the depths of the smaller of the two bathroom closets. I rearranged, sorted, tossed and swept. I also swept the bathroom while I was at it.

Then I moved on to the bedroom closet. I got rid of the last of the more than 60 pounds ago clothes. I also tossed shoes with holes in them (cannot imagine why I thought I should keep them). Bye, bye cowboy boots and granny boots. So long tennis shoes that I wore more than 10 years ago. Now the closet seems huge.

I changed the sheets on the bed. I chose to be an optimist and exchanged the heavy blanket for a lighter one. I also washed the dishes and carried the trash out.

The wind brings all sorts of crap into my lungs. Today leaves me pretty breathless. My CPAP helps so naptime, here I come.

Later, Dude.

Thanksgiving

Today I am grateful for how things seem to work out despite any amount of fretting by me.

I am grateful for friends who care for me even if I do not sometimes.

I am grateful that many of the worries I had more than two years ago do not mean a hill of beans to me today.

I am grateful for surprises with heart behind them.

I am grateful for understanding and kindness.

I am grateful that I always had enough of most things.

I am grateful that I never had more than anyone should ever have.

I am grateful that for most of my life I was healthy.

I am grateful that my health is not as bad as some.

I am grateful I knew you, Dude.

Later.

Lame

I need a hobby. Back in the day, I knitted. I also did embroidery and crewel. I tried painting (humph, not an artistic bone in my body) and did lots of cooking. I read dozens of books a month. I helped with recreational soccer as a board member and commissioner.

I need some sort of impetus. Right now my hobby is FarmTown. That spells lame.

Later, Dude.

Rhyme time

Another Monday. The past few days I have coasted. I slept. I ate. I slept some more. Monday.

I wonder if T thinks I am a nutty old woman. I sure hope not, but you never know. Maybe he, along with others I know, cannot imagine someone taking interest in their lives without a ulterior motive. My motives are nothing more than a general curiosity about people. OK, I admit his history with you could contribute. I want to explore every nook and cranny. Maybe I was not meant to learn any more.

The thermometer reached a new high yesterday -- 91. Winter, like a child who refuses to go to bed without one last glass of water, spit snowflakes at early morning commuters. The sun came along quickly after and kissed the delicate buds of spring with warming rays.

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

I  was born on a Monday.

OK, time to get to work.

Miss you, Dude.

Later.