Just a little of this and not much of that

The sparrows run along the top of the fence as if propelled by toy car wheels. The White Christmas compelled the birds to roost until the sun and fresh seeds drew them to the yard.

Mother Nature gifted us with a photo perfect day. The day began with large snowflakes drifting like feathers over a vent. The unique patterns melded into a soft white blanket covering the dry harshness of drought.

I spent the day with my family of choice.  Seeing the four men that my godsons became cheers me. I am proud of them, for them and for their parents.

The amaryllis bud taunts me. A couple of days ago I saw a sliver of pink. Today the bud seems ready to burst. Perhaps tomorrow it will explode with the color hidden under the sheath of green. The other two buds trail behind as if to allow each glorious splendor of its own.

How can we desire change but at the same time run from it?

You are still there in my heart, Dude.

Later.

'Twas the night

Except for the dishes I washed and the cake I made, this day was a waste. I slept on the couch most of the day with Pogo and Momo lining my left side.

My amaryllis seems to be thriving. No flowers yet, but three stalks, the tallest almost a foot. Today offered lots of sun. I could almost hear the ahhhhs.

I am in a beat up state again. Owies cover my arms and hands.

The bed calls.

Later, Dude.

Not easy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATQ9KcELAJQ

Missing you, Dude.

Later.

Ferry across the Mersey

I picked up I.F. somewhere along the way. At first his influence affected me in minor ways. Gradually he gained more clout. Now I listen to him more and more and regret my responses.

Then G. joins the party with her incessant accusatory tone, railing my every move. I should ignore her but she makes that impossible. She shrieks her message with grating voice.

Then like an alcoholic who swears off the booze, the pressure begins to mount.  Soon I freeze in place, the solution hidden behind a wall of  recriminations.

I do not like my pals. When they begin to stir, I begin to panic. The process begins anew.

For most, this time of year represents joy. I just want to roll into a ball and sleep through it all. Selfish? Yes. The rationale for G. to harp.

An argument ensues almost every time; I lose most of them. Who am I?

Later, Dude.

Amazing

Fewer than 30,000. That number represents cases of PH in the U.S. 31,800,000: the U.S. population in mid-2011. Do the math.


Later, Dude.

Points to ponder

Children remind us to view life with awe, especially this time of year.

Pets remind us to love unconditionally and trust the ones who care for us.

Friends remind us we are not alone and someone cares.

PHriends remind us someone knows how we feel.

CFers remind us the quality of life outweighs the quantity.

Family reminds us of our beginnings.

You remind me how lucky I am, Dude.

Later.

Lost it

I flat wore myself out today. I proved the adage, "Use it or lose it." Apparently the two weeks I was sick killed what muscle tone and endurance I had. I walked in the door at 3 p.m. with barely enough energy to take my clothes off, do a Tyvaso treatment, which was four hours late, and feed the kitties.

What did I do to cause my arms and legs to ache? Well, not a whole lot. I closed my account at that vilified banking institution. I also drove through the pharmacy to pick up some meds. C and I went to lunch and then to Wallyworld and the grocery.

My arms, legs, knees ache. Time for the Tylenol and bed.

Later, Dude.

More random thoughts

Below are the start of blogs this month that did not go beyond the first sentence or two, thus the random thoughts title.

When things go wrong, we look for answers, excuses, anything to explain why events unfolded the way they did. Karma, God's punishment. Just desserts.

Years after you are gone, no one will miss you or even know you existed.

I am a bit aggravated. I managed to capture the lead in the Fantasy EPL League. I expressed pride in my accomplishment in a public manner. Of the five opponents, well, I got a congrats, but a look out now comment from one of them; a yeah for you; and then the son of a gun who said "Eek, I have not even looked at the game in weeks." The statement's accuracy aside, the speaker could be kinder. Look out now, Buster!! You have lit a fire under me that will make your butt toast.

Winter beats at my door hounded by a cold north wind. Despite the new weatherstripping, the chill wind blows enough through the gaps to snuff a candle.

Missing you, Dude.

Later.

Rest easy

Another gray day. I received notification from the Tyvaso folks that my three-month re-certification  is tomorrow. Because I was sick, I did not check my mail for a little over a week. Well, I tried to call the senior clearance specialist. Same woman I have had problems with in the past. She did not return my call, so I called someone who sees this woman and promised to hand deliver the paperwork which I faxed. I guess I will find out soon if she got what she needed and the company will continue to pay for the drug.

Just got word on FB another of my PH friends, who had a transplant, has died. RIP Sheila Williams.

A couple of CFers I knew of also died recently.

Later, Dude.

Seasons in the sun

I awoke to frozen fog. The wind did not blow, but somehow the day looked colder than reality. I snuggled under a blanket and a comforter with the kitties lining my left side. A football game and a couple of basketball games later, I stir from my cocoon. Eight hours later, the gloom prevails. Soon I will seek the warmth of the covers.

This year ends on a note of thankfulness. I am thankful I have gotten to spend quality time with my brother. I think he did not understand what my disease was like. I am older than he by four years. Now he calls about once a week to check on me. I have learned to appreciate my sister-in-law. We went to college together many moons ago. Then we went our separate ways until she met my brother again.

I am thankful for my Facebook friends. I continue to keep in contact with many of the folks I used to work with. Journalists move around. Most of my journalism friends no longer live here. I enjoy seeing their children and themselves growing up. Another group fills my soul with support. They catch me when I fall into despair. They encourage and empathize. A small group of your friends helps me keep a connection, somehow making it more real.

I am thankful for understanding. I am thankful for thoughtfulness. I am thankful for blessings.

Later, Dude.

All thumbs

 A special friend thinks she can transform my brown, kill everything in sight thumb into a green one. She sent me three African amaryllis bulbs. So far, the confidence in my abilities to change appears justified. Two of the bulbs have three shoots that seem to grow by the minute. The largest bulb has the potential, you can see the beginnings of at least two shoots.

My Tracleer shipment for this month appears lost in lala land. I will make more calls today. I have three pills left. To be fair, I think the problem lies with UPS, not Accredo.

That is all.

Later, Dude.

A cautionary tale?

Last night, not too long after I had turned off the lights, my doorbell rang. My apartment complex lies in a modest neighborhood but the complex itself shows signs of its age. Since the rent falls in the lower bracket, so does the tenant population.

I opened the door to a woman, who at first glance was a hipster. Jeans tucked into knee-high boots. Spiked blonde hair. She asked for a woman whom I was not. She told me she had locked her keys in her car and asked if I had a phone she could use. I brought the phone to the door and let her call her daughter in Perryton. She had no coat and I let her into the apartment to wait for the locksmith to arrive. Seeing her in the light, she must have been in her middle to late 50s.

I sat on the couch while she stood at the door waiting for the man to arrive. She talked nervously about how her 38-year-old daughter caused her trouble. Then she told me this was the third time in a month she had locked her keys in her car. She offered to pay me for use of the phone. Finally, the man came and the woman left.

I have energy to clean today, which means this ugly mess will soon stop hanging over me. I also have to track down my Tracleer shipment. Accredo scheduled the delivery for yesterday. Nope, did not make it. I called the complex office. Nope, not there. (UPS delivered my Tyvaso to the office this time. Accredo requires a signature. I wonder who signed?) I have noticed a new UPS guy, too. If I were to give him a grade: epic fail!! In the meantime, I have 1.5 days of Tracleer left. I have a FT friend who has an appropriate name for this situation: Helena Handbasket.

I am one lucky woman. I miss you, Dude.

Later.

As time goes by

Two years ago I lost someone whom I did not know well but at the same time I knew for as long as time and space itself. I will never know what if, but I do know what.

I ponder why you made such an impact, Dude.

You came into my life at a time when my life had turned upside down. I lost a career of close to 40 years. I had no time to make adjustments or even to make choices. I felt hopeless and vulnerable and numb. I was alone with me. All my friends worked and soon many of them dropped me from their lives. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose.

Then, by chance or fate, I met you online. I fell in love with you in a long-distance, will never meet kind of way. You filled a hole in my being. I felt, as I am sure most of your many, many friends did, needed by you as well. Talking to you about your issues made mine disappear for awhile. You confided in me, and I grew protective like an animal momma with her babies. You hit a bumpy stretch and I wanted to do everything I could to make that path smooth. You hurt and I wanted to hold you and wipe the pain away. Yet even in that mess of a time, you showed me how one can let go of the anger and move on.

I grew to know you by the way you reacted to events in your life. I knew how you felt about the folks in your "real life," how you compartmentalized. Did you set up the Post-Thanksgiving Fantasy Hockey League with the players you did consciously or subconsciously? What would you think about how events played out after you died?

Once you told me you were sorry. Once you told me thank you. Two simple phrases that were more precious than any gifts you could have purchased.

That first year I grieved for you with an intensity I never believed possible. How could your death affect me so when I knew you for such a short time? I managed to get through the year with help from a couple of unlikely  friends who have continued to help me. I hope I have helped them in return.

Yep, Dude. I miss you. You still have a place in my heart.

Laters.