My dear Joon...

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shireling
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Nov 17, 2017 10:04 pm

Duane threw a tantrum in the Steak 'n Shake.

He couldn't remember a word, and that set him off. The girl taking our order didn't bring us menus; we've been going there every week for the past six months and pretty much order the same thing, but that didn't help. He was growling, and screaming :cry: , and grinding his teeth, complaining about the meds he was on. I was so scared. Let's go. I said. Let's leave if you can't calm down.

But he kept refusing. I think we were told they were out of hot chocolate, because they were worried he might throw it (it comes to the table like chocolate lava wreathed in a cloud of whipped cream - unless the server is Phyllis; then she always tops it with chocolate morsels. Same for her chocolate milkshakes.) Anyway, that set off whole spasms of coughs; he kept taking off and putting back on his respiratory mask, and getting upset with himself for doing it. Finally, after the food came, he settled and we were able to eat. They switched out the waitress for one, whom it turns out, has an autistic brother. I did get him to leave for the car after he finished, and the couple across the table from us was so nice and kind :cry: . That's when that server told me about her brother; I told her Duane was on the spectrum - I guess she could tell. Once you're aware of the syndrome, you can't help but spot it. We were able to come straight home because I'd done all of the shopping this morning.

Oh, am I glad I did that! It was a pain, doing it alone, and I just happened upon Rosemary leaving as I was coming home. But coming in the door after all that and not having to do anything more, was such a blessing. We watched Gotham, and, after, I was able to take a nap with Amy, until a bit ago. I went into the kitchen to make sure she had enough of everything, and he followed me. He gave me a hug and told me he loved me, thanking me for sticking by him. Well, sure, I mean, why not? This is the way it is. This is what you do when you love somebody.

Have a good weekend, my joons.
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Nov 21, 2017 1:31 pm

This may be a record. Duane hasn't used the words I'm and insane in the same sentence for five days and counting.
Of course, I just may have jinxed it by saying so.

We saw Michael on Sunday :) . He was still very much under the weather, and coughing. But it sounded looser and there was none of the other unpleasantness that accompanies bad colds. Still, his throat was sore and as soon as devotions were over, we left for lunch and home. The house was able to find him a beautiful coat - it's one inside of another, a blue outer and a red inner - and I grabbed my laundry pen to make sure his name is in it. My poor baby :( . He stayed home all last week trying to get over this.

But back to the Honey. No more hospitals. We've done it twice, and both times, he's come home confused and actually a bit worse than when he went in. Though when I think back, I really couldn't have handled it. I don't have the expertise - the experience, sure, just dealing with crazy family - but these meds complicate everything. Then you have staff in conflict with each other over what's the best route to take, as shown by those confusing discharge records. And that's not all - both the NP and the GP told us they were having trouble reconciling the hospital's observation notes. I liked the surgery he had so much better. The gallbladder was gangrenous and had to come out - it rarely gets easier than that. I want to see if anything like this occurs again, what other options we might have instead of an ER admit. There's got to be something.

Speaking of mental, Amy's herself again. No more a'more for at least five months. Why can't she just pine and sob, like some Daphne or Annabel in a romance novel? Instead, it's all yowl and nip and lunge at my face, her pupils the size of golf balls, and accompanied by flying fur and these reddish-brown additions to the household fabrics. I should probably be more compassionate; after all it's not her choice. I was talking to somebody one day about this, and they have the idea that cats are the predatory answer to rabbits. Both have large litters, both can get pregnant right up until that last heartbeat - definitely sounds plausible. Anyway, except for the fleas - I have no idea where they've come from, again. - she's good. I've got both of the over-the-counter 'death to the jumping vampires' kits on hand, and a good tube of A&D ointment to rub into the bites.

That is the best. The ointment heals the wounds, stops the itch, and suffocates the little monsters when they fall into it. It's like magic. And it has the added benefit of a laxative, if she should happen to get it in her mouth. She's sleeping on the bed behind me - she's so very cute! As of last night, all of the bites were gone, the flea nurseries had disappeared from behind her ears, and we can pet her on the head again, now that the stuff has worked its way in.

Okay. Today's a slow day. No reason to go out. Take care, joon-ams.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Wed Nov 22, 2017 4:46 pm

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving :D !

I sallied forth this morning to buy turkey dinners, whipped cream, pumpkin pie, extra turkey for sandwiches, and Miracle Whip. We've decided to go to the Bob Evan's up the street for our holiday meal today, and stay home tomorrow. That is being brought to us by those fine folks at Marie Callender's :) . Frankly, it was so much easier to buy a frozen pie and bake it myself, than to try to carry home one already done. It would have to be flat in the bag, so as not to mess it up; they last longer in the fridge, too, the store-bought ones. But there's something nice about taking it out of the oven and letting it cool on the rack. The place smells just wonderful, and by the time we go out, I'll be able to stick it in the fridge. I have never made a pie from scratch and it's not something I've been just burning to do.

We'd gone out to eat for the past two Thanksgivings, and while it's nice, I've noticed people leaving the restaurant with lots of extra food. It you don't arrive by 10:30 AM, they tend to run out of the populars rather quickly - no thanks for that going to these aforementioned folks - and Duane, of course, does not notice this. So, I suggested we go for turkey dining today and tomorrow, I will cook up the ones I bought. Then, in the evening, the deli turkey will be sandwiches for supper with pie. I didn't get any cranberry relish, but there should be some on the side with our lunch today. It's more of a garnish these days, than an actual side.

The Honey's doing much better. He's controlling what he takes and it seems to be working. That reminds me - I needed to call for an appointment for him. I didn't get the scheduler but I left a message. We're long time clients now so it shouldn't be a problem.

Today is the 54th anniversary of the assassination of President Kennedy. And the day after the passing of David Cassidy. I'm sorry that he died - I can remember my sister calling me downstairs to watch Marcus Welby, MD to see this 'absolute babe of a boy'; that was the first time either of us had ever seen him - but I'm glad that it wasn't the same day as Charles Manson. Orson Welles and Yul Brynner died on the same day and year, as did Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. It's easy to forget when you get two together like that - not that Mr. Manson is worth remembering at all. Still, just like other monsters of the past century and the current one, none of that evil was accomplished alone. He had minions to do his bidding - not as many as Hitler had, or so few as Timothy McVeigh - but it sufficed.

Joanie just called and we agreed on a appointment date for Duane's next visit. Speaking of him, he is ready to leave for lunch and I am too. Have a wonderful, safe and sane :lol: holiday, my loves! Thank you all for your sweet selves :) .


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Thu Nov 23, 2017 4:32 am

It's ten thirty at night, on the eve of Thanksgiving.

Last Sunday, there was a presentation about gratitude. G.K. Chesterton, the 'father' of Father Brown, kept a journal in which he would list what he was thankful for. After years of atheism and an obsessive need to prove his position through endless debate, he found himself severely depressed, and, in moment of enlightenment, came up with the idea of writing down the benefits of his existence.

We went around the room, stating what we were thankful for. I said, my family, my cat and my bed. It wasn't what I would have said, were I not so keenly aware of where I was and how it would be taken by those present. It's the sensibilities of others that has, for the most part, kept me quiet. But not so here.

I am profoundly and humbly grateful for this Day. The Day, which for centuries, men have prayed and begged God to hasten. I am so thankful for Baha'u'llah, and all the gifts which have accompanied His coming, that words fail me. Nothing I can say, will convey just how much this means to me. Have I always been aware? No, I'm ashamed to say, and will I forget myself in the future? Sure, I will - I'm human, and we do that. But, because of Him, I have the family I would not have. I wasn't going to marry, let alone have children, and then I met Duane.

It's been hard, I don't mind telling you and anybody else that'll listen. But, like a plant forced to grow in a rocky field. Or a sword, shaped by flame and the smith's hammer, that relationship molded me. It made me grow, and learn what mattered in this world. And if I needed more than that, I have the lives of people showcased around me, people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing. Oh, they have their day, but I wouldn't trade a single second of my time for theirs.

My son is the best thing I've done or will ever do. I regret with all my heart that he will always be at the mercy of those who cannot be trusted, but I can't imagine life without him in it. Michael has touched many, and will touch many more in the years to come. And that is something I will always be glad of.

Amy, our cat, is the last in a long line of pets that have shared my home. I haven't always been the best of owners. I've been immature at times, selfish at others, and these creatures have suffered because of it. I will never be able to make it up to those in the past, no matter how loving and attentive I may be now. But, forgiveness is there for the asking, and to anyone who thinks - and you know who you are - that God will never it go, that such a sin is too great to lay at His feet, please consider this.

Is it God or is it you, that's being uncharitable?

We are entering into that phase of the year that most hold sacred. It's the end of the harvest for some, and the beginning of the year for others. No matter that Lord Jesus was probably born during the spring, when shepherds would be watching their flocks, their dogs and crooks at the ready to beat away the gathering wolves from the lambing ewes. He is the season's reason for many, many who couldn't care less about timing, and it's my favorite. Like Scrooge's nephew, Fred, although he's also speaking of Christmas here, I can see Thanksgiving
"...as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys..."


The way ahead is uncharted. No one knows, especially in these stormy times, what the future will hold. Yet, I do see a light, a glimmer of hope, and to that I have and will always cling. So, I'm off to my bed, now, and to face another day come the morrow.


A Most Happy Thanksgiving to All,
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Nov 24, 2017 1:26 pm

I hope your Thanksgiving was wonderful :) . Ours was better on Wednesday :lol: , food-wise.

Even with the three frozen dinners I bought, there wasn't enough for the two of us. And, except for the mixed vegetables, which had their own section, everything else was combined, which made it difficult to scoop out and give the Honey extra mashed potatoes. I was so disappointed, because I like the quality of of M.C.'s other stuff. Like the pumpkin pie - that was definitely worth it! It was custardy, and it baked up perfectly, very satisfying. And a good thing, too! That and the deli turkey, combined, made for a great day. It was a bit like being the Cratchits -
indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last!


So, there are no left overs. But, at least we did and do have food, which is more than some can say the day after. Next year, I'm buying just the breast and splatchcocking it, with a modest array of sides. Maybe I can find a couple of legs and roast them along with it. My mother-in-law always bought a whole bird, since I'm the only one who appreciates the dark meat. That was so thoughtful. I always got to bring some of that home with us.

It is cold in here, but that's good for me. I want to buy a robe for myself, and some Catholic Christmas cards, for my brother and the Fraternity; that's as far ahead as I'm thinking this weekend. I haven't bought the gifts for Mike's house yet, but I will get to it next week. Christmas is coming so fast this year! I'll go to the mall for my robe, and hit the anchor stores - while they still stand. Some nice chocolates for Michael's house and our haircutters - need those, and tips for Mikey's staffer, and the cleaning ladies.

I'm trying to keep my mind off the state of things, which is very hard to do. I've limited myself to three news shows a day during the week, and three on the weekends. The weekend ones are recorded, so I do a lot of fast-forwarding, and I can then concentrate on the world. Usually that's only carried by the BBC, God bless it.

It's been a week since we went to Steak 'n Shake, and that's where Duane wants to go today. I'm a bit apprehensive - I can't help it. But, he's been good. There was a bit of an outburst yesterday, but football was on, so that's okay. And I'll be trolling through the tv guide for my favorite Christmas shows. It's a shame that so many of them are being charged for. Like the 1984 Christmas Carol with George C. Scott. And I think that if you have to pay for it over and above your cable bill, you should be able to record it as well, but that's me.

It's only 25 after 8, but I'm sleepy. Maybe I can grab a bit more; he won't be up until 10, and both Amy and I are set. Have a good rest to your week, loves.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sat Nov 25, 2017 11:56 pm

The trip to Steak 'n Shake went well; there were no problems. I apologized to the one server and told her that I was thinking maybe we shouldn't come back. And she said, don't worry about it. I hope that things are on the up now.

It was hard to sleep last night. The little girl upstairs was running around between 2 and 4 AM. Her mother's lucky to have such wonderful neighbors as ourselves :D . It takes parents to know that, short of chloroform, there is nothing to settle down a rambunctious youngster in the middle of the night. I wish more people understood that. When Mike was small, we didn't want our kid screaming, crying and jumping off the bed any more than they did, no matter what time of day it was. But we were cursed with a pair of numbskulls downstairs. You know what was so funny about them? Was that the woman we bought our place from, thought they were too loud - which is why she was moving to the third floor of another building.

Anyway, I've finished all of my Christmas cards and mailed them this morning. There were over 40 of them, but I know I'll be getting at least one of them back. One of the Franciscans has moved from his assisted living place and is in very poor health. For some reason, they can't forward his birthday card, and I got that back today. He should have received it on the 17th of November *sigh* . Joan and Ann visit our shut-ins, so we find out right away what's going on, but not soon enough if I just did the mail.

In addition to the post office, I was hoping to buy fixings for stew tomorrow. But my knees were acting up, and by the time I gave up on trying to find everything, they were burning with each step. The cashier was nice enough to take the few things I had in the cart and return them to the proper aisles. I should have done the shopping Friday. It was dry and I was walking without pain. So after lunch, I was able to pick up the Christmas cards (ones with the Wise Guys :D), and since the women's wear was on the way to them, I checked out the robes. And I got one!

It's the same color as Amy (so it hides cat hair well), it has a zipper (with a zipper pull), and it's roomy enough for a family of four and their trained gila monster (I've been watching a lot of Animal Planet lately :slowblush: .) Besides that, it was under 20 bucks! I'M SO HAPPY! I will be schnuggling in it all this winter long :D .

Speaking of animals, Dr. Pol's on, so I'm off to watch some pregnancy checks.


tootles,
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Mon Nov 27, 2017 2:42 pm

Duane was awake all night - at least I think so.

The couple of times I got up, the light was still on in his room. So, I don't know what we'll be doing today. There's a library book on the dining room table, so that at least is one pretty good bet. He wants to start mall-walking again. I want to also, but trying to get him to go at a decent time has been a battle from the first. There's an unwritten rule that from 9AM - 11 AM is the time. If you're not done flying around the circuit by then, then what's the matter with you?

He hasn't spoken to me yet; I'm waiting for him to make the first move. He walks into my room, and touches his clothes behind the door.

Good morning, honey.
Is this the third day for these?
No.
No?
No.
Saw your library book. You want it to go back today?
Yeah.
Yeah?
Yeah. I heard it's going to be warm today.
It'll be warmer tomorrow.
Yeah?
Yeah.
Let's enjoy it while it lasts.


He's dressed; I'm not. I'd best finish and set about the day.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Nov 28, 2017 5:53 pm

He didn't sleep Sunday night. But we went to the mall - he walked the route he's always done; I did like a quarter. There were no carts to borrow from Sears. In fact, it looks as though the experiment has ended and the corrals are gone. So, he did the walk without help while I used my rollator.

It was so tempting to go into the little stores. They set up these tiny toy shops that only last until the first week of January, and you can find the coolest things in them. I know, I'm a sixty-three-year-old woman and I love toys! I love them! They have so many that aren't exclusive to boys or girls - just the kind I wanted when I was puppy - and those were so few.

I did have a gun and holster set. They were pink - I kid you not. Pink leather, pink steel barrels and hammers, with pink 'mother-of-pearl' handles. And a farm. I was three, and I had a barn made of pressed tin, with scads of plastic livestock. They all looked like their legs were set in concrete that matched their bodies. I remember just going with it. I knew none of that was true in nature, even at that age. As soon as I could walk, I was chasing the chickens on Grandma's farm - would have been a lot easier to catch if their legs were stuck in something. There was a chimp named Jiff, that wore a yellow shirt with red suspenders. No pants, but I wasn't supposed to notice that the legs were the same color as the head and arms. There were a couple of pull toys - a bee and a dog - and one doll. It was made of rubber, and had a plug in the back. The hair and clothes were molded to it, and it came with a high chair, a bed and a bassinet with a lid. I opened the lid, put the doll in and went off to play with the box. *sigh* Those were the days.

Anyway, I would just look now. I don't buy those things. Michael wasn't interested in toys beyond viewmasters and bead mazes. He will still gravitate to the latter in a doctor's office. And besides, my walls are still covered in LOTR action figures, a tapestry, and three posters from the movie. The last figure I bought I ended up donating; I had no place to put him (it was a big Frodo and he kept falling off my desk.) The joy of ownership doesn't last beyond taking them out of the box, and these days, not even the cat wants to play with those. I called Kelly to ask if she would like to shop for Michael's house with me. I'm still thinking of going to the second-hand shop with the neat charity setup.

I was talking about the mall with the Honey, wasn't I? Well, after the mall, we had lunch. I was elvish for the pharmacy and our stylists, bringing them cards and candy as thank yous. Then, there was the library, and the final stop for the beef stew kit and a fruit cake. The cake was an afterthought; it was on a table all cluttered with siblings and other assorted bakery. I could never resist them.

So, this morning was a laundry day, and as I did the wash, I got out the stew fixings. Since we don't have a crockpot, I did the next best thing that there were directions for: a 9x13x3 inch roasting pan and tin foil. It said preheat the oven to 350, but since I suspect my range escaped from Hell's Kitchen, I figured 325 was more than enough. The meat comes precut and in heavy plastic wrapping. Beside it, is a packet of stew-do (salt, pepper, flour and paprika), topped by four darling red potatoes, one big peeled white onion, six 1/3 celery stalks, and a herd of carrots. I cut open the meat, and placed it evenly around the bottom of the pan. Then I mixed the packet with 1 cup of hot tap water, and poured that over the beef. Opening the veggie bag, I ate the celery (neither one of us like it cooked), arrange the rest of it and cover it all with tin foil. It was to bake for 3-4 hours, but it was perfect in two and a half. I was able to finish my work and get some more sleep, and by the time I heard him wake up, it was done.

Next time, though, I'm using two cups of water. Duane insisted on a bowl with a spoon, even though it was fine on a plate with a fork - that's how little gravy there was. But it was good, we both thought. The meat, the potatoes, everything, came out fork-tender. In over half of the reviews I read, people recommended tossing the packet and making your own. But I'm suspicious of those who have 'vegetarian' in their profile.

Well, it's almost one, and I have a couple of things to finish up. Be good.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Wed Nov 29, 2017 2:32 pm

The Honey has slept two nights in a row.

He's talking about going back to the mall today - Monday, Wednesday and Fridays - until he builds up his stamina. Kelly and I are going Christmas shopping for the boys; I'm really looking forward to this. So far each one has an ornament and there's one present. I'd bought it for Mike - a viewmaster - but he's not interested. I'll ask him on Sunday if he would like me to give it to Max. Max is interested in nature, and this happens to be one with nebula, and planets - maybe he'd like it. Jacob is the hardest one to buy for. Renee told me that he likes horror movies. Ah geeze. I'm not a fan, but I'll keep an eye out (see what I did there? holding it aloft as I scan the aisles?) for something that it won't embarrass me to buy for him :roll: .

This morning on the news, another famous man has lost his job. There wasn't any these are the accusations; there will be an investigation, no. He's gone, terminated, after twenty-five years of hosting the sixty-five-year-old Today show. I don't get it.

I've never gotten it. Oh, I've had guys from the neighborhood, through high school (being pushed into and groped in my locker), through drama club. For example - and I can't remember his name - we were all on stage for the finale of OLIVER!, singing 'I'd Do Anything', our arms around each other's waists, when the actor on my left dropped his arm and grabbed my ass. My character was dressed in a flannel nightgown; I had only a bra and panties on underneath. I can still feel it. I was so mad. It was our last performance, I'd finally captured the heartbreak and greed of Old Sally, the audience was on its feet applauding, I have tears in my eyes, and this jerk does this. I never talked to him again.

It was the same bs at work. Running a cash register, and being pinched each time the bagger reached for a bag. Going to the restroom, finding the lights out, only to see a life-size standee for wine, blocking the stalls when I finally found the switch. A dead mouse in my office desk drawer at the envelope manufacturers. But I'd had mice as pets and loved them, so I was justifiably angry about the casual murder of such an innocent, solely for the titillation of the idiots I was forced to put up with. There's more, there's always more, but I won't waste your time with it. Some of you, I'm sure, have stories of your own that would make a stone weep.

How hard can it be for some guys to be decent? Is it really that difficult not to be a dick?

There's a friend of mine from Argentina, and she still has a noticeable accent. We were all at an Ayyam-i-Ha Party, one of the last at the Baha'i Center. It had been a fun evening and she had something very eloquent to share. I remember that it was so, but what she said is lost to me. I don't remember it. I don't remember it, because the Bane mocked her speech. Oh, she let him have it. She spoke up for herself, and shut him down flat. But the damage was done, because he thought he was being clever and couldn't keep his big mouth shut. If you wouldn't do that to the Virgin Mary, who didn't even speak English because it hadn't been invented yet, let alone try to, then why would you do that to anybody? What the hell was supposed to be funny about that?

The next time I hear about how God made man first, I will gently point out that Creation was worked from the bottom up.

Anyway, it's going on 9:30 and I'm looking forward to having some fun today. Be nice, my joons. You know what I mean.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Thu Nov 30, 2017 3:19 am

Had a wonderful time shopping with Kelly.

We first hit the second-hand shop where I found three Blue Ray DVDs, one for each of the boys, and a Frank Sinatra Christmas CD for me :D . Then we went for lunch and talked. It was so nice to spend some time just being out, and getting this most fun of jobs done with somebody else. I was really feeling good; Kelly said she could tell and asked if I would mind going to one more store. I was sure I could handle it. I picked up a book, two toys, and three knitted hats - then saw another toy going through the checkout line. We separated for a bit, and met up at the front. We are both officially done! And it's not even December! Though I do have my doubts about one of the hats. It's a beautiful red, but it's got NAUGHTY in big, bold, white letters around the edge. I'm tempted to take it to the shop around the corner and see if they can add either 'NOT' or 'NEVER' to the naughty, or '...& NICE' after the naughty. I intended this for Mike, since he loves red. I don't know how I missed the lettering, but I shall find a solution.

After taking Kelly home, I stopped to see if there was more fruitcake at the store. There was a bumper crop of the confections; I bought three. And two loaves of bread, two boxes of Bacon Ritz (they were on sale), two bars of white cheddar (they weren't), and two more deli containers of turkey. Actually, what I'd bought the other day turned out to be chicken, but the Honey didn't notice and I didn't say anything. It was very good.

I will never be a vegetarian. I - no. No. If I ever had to do everything myself, from buying the calf/pig/chicken, to rearing it, to slaughter and butchering it, I'd learn. I would make sure that I was the best at doing all of that. Granted I'm a bit incapacitated at this stage of life, so it's not likely that I'd do it now, but I just can't see me totally relying on plants, grains and beans - not without a side of ribs I can't.

I did find myself thinking about that beef stew kit. What if I had to grow my own carrots, potatoes, and onions? And get water from the well? And carve up the meat, and gather the wood for the fire, and make the fire, and boil the water, and grind the flour, and prepare my own salt and pepper, and let it cook in the fireplace or outside over an open flame. I don't know how anybody did that.

I'm convinced there were no good old days. The best days are now - with stores and appliances and cars. I go downstairs, sit behind the wheel, and like magic, my engine turns over. And I go wherever I want or need to. Girlfriend never needs to see a vet, or a farrier. She never gets colic, or swollen hocks, or shattered hooves. I never worry that it's too cold or too hot for her to be on the road, and if she ever breaks down, I call a tow truck. Yeah. I like living now. It's not perfect, but tis a far, far better thing than I could do or have ever done.

I'm hungry. It's after 10 PM; I need my meds and a nosh and sleep. And you sleep well, too, my joons, should you be in a like timezone.
It's not a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known, but I'm tired. Sorry, Charlie.


'night
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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Thu Nov 30, 2017 3:33 pm

I'm donating the NAUGHTY hat.

After consultation with the Honey, it seemed best. I could return it, but it's not a store I usually go to, and besides, someone will appreciate it. On the other hand, I have two more. I'll give Mike the blue/grey one to go with his outer coat; the heavy cable-knit one I'll give to Jacob. It had a huge black pom-pom on top that I just snipped off. It'll be nice an warm for him. Jacob has no family, and Max does - his parents would probably prefer to see him in something they bought.

My right ear hurts, so I guess going to the doctor won't be so bad. I'll have a reason. I hate going just to go. I'm not an invalid. I know, I'm mostly ignoring my diabetes - I'm so sick of hearing about it! It's all over tv; I get these bi-monthly magazines that were complimentary four years ago. When that ran out, I thought, good, done with that. Nope. They've been coming ever since, and I haven't paid a penny. And every now and then I get these education brochures in the mail, which I throw away. My eyes just glaze over. That's not how I learn. I would do fantastic in a group home of diabetic women where we were all given a routine and proper feeding. I need a hoarder for people like me. Somebody to snatch me off the street and keep me with 30 or 40 others, like cats. But then I remember that's all hoarders do. They snatch. They don't clean, or proper feed, or change the litter box. On the other hand, forget it. I'll manage.

When I got home yesterday, I took out all of the loot I'd bought, and laid it around the decorative pitcher topped with the lighted-holly bush. It's a nice haul, if I do say so, even without the novelty hat. I've got three gift bags ready to fill; I'll do that later today, once I tuck in a sheet of tissue paper apiece.

Lately I've been having these weird dreams. I call them 'henny pennys' , and they come in serials. Last night, I was living with my mom, my sister and two brothers. We went to an animal rescue, where my mom insisted on buying two gila monsters, and an iguana. I asked her what they were for, and she said, to eat the cockroaches. And you know how it is in dreams. You just accept it - yeah, sure, okay. So, we get home and the place is a mess. We release the reptiles and they promptly disappear into the highly-piled junk. But then I get worried. The place is cold, and these critters will need heat and water. I develope a nasty suspicion that they will revolt against these horrible living conditions, and team up with the roaches to do battle against us. I'm desperate to get my family on board, and while they avidly listen to me, as soon as I finish, they go right back to what they're doing as if I never spoke at all. My sister was my greatest source of aggravation; she held her phone to her ear the whole time, and carried on her conversation. I've rarely been as happy as I was to wake up this morning, find my family gone and my Honey on the computer instead.

I'll probably have one or two more of these and then they'll stop for a bit. But they are all the same - something's really wrong, I can see that, and nobody else cares. It might be connected to the state of things, or it could be part of encroaching Parkinson's. To hell with those neurologists; by the time I find one that sees it, I will be well and truly screwed. But, in the meantime, I will do what I've always done. Take care of business as best I can.

Well, it's 10:30 and I need to get lunch on the stove. Stay warm, and be warm to everybody that will let you.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Dec 01, 2017 3:37 am

The red NAUGHTY hat, and a book about grief and grieving, have both gone the way of the local AMVETS donation bin.

And I saw my doctor. My blood sugar was 149, but my BP was 151/70 and my pulse was 100 - down from 120. The echocardio was normal - the heart hasn't suffered any damage, yet - but she's upped my beta blocker by another 25 mg. We argued over what I take for pain; she says that the caffeine side of the migraine formula, is increasing my heart rate. But, I say, I only take it when I'm in pain - like now - and both of my knees feel like they're on fire. So, she keeps asking me when I took it last - which was yesterday evening so I could sleep. I got the same question three different ways, and she got the same answer, because that's when I took it! HAMBURGERS, woman!

Caffeine is virtually a food group to me! I sleep best on a great big mugful of the stuff! My head hit the table after consuming four, (4) cups of 100% Colombian coffee during a very tough bout of consultation in 2005! And when I went home, I slept through till morning. Anyway, she prescribed steroids for my ear (there's fluid behind my right eardrum; probably allergies), and renewed my inhaler.

Over the past several days, I'm realizing things that I hadn't before. Ever since I made that phone call to the Bane, I'm okay with him. I'm not mad any more - not that he needs to know that. And I love him. If I didn't, I wouldn't have called in the first place. Besides him, there are four others that I feel the same about. Not in the same way - I won't be making any profanity-laden calls to their numbers. But, I want nothing more to do with them.

This may not make sense at all, saying I love these people. I seriously don't wish any of them ill, not in the slightest. Even telling the Bane that I hope he dies, was meant kindly. I just want him to stop hurting folks, and if that would do it, then that'd be okay with me. But, what I mean is, that they are bad for me. Like The Chocolate Wave at Red Lobster kind-of bad. They have a negative influence on my soul, like that dessert does my health. They say things that devastate me, and do things that prick holes in my heart; they prejudice people against others, who cannot defend themselves. For instance, trying to explain to a mixed group of individuals at a devotional gathering, what Wiccans are. One of these five had to pipe up, that Wicca is also known as 'witchcraft.' Yes, it is. But, that one word ruined what I was trying to get across - which was that they also have a 'Golden Rule', the topic for that particular day's get-together. That one bit of bigotry, that one Oh, look what I know! summed up in centuries of that word - she just had to say it. And there was a momentary look of dismay that crossed the faces of all in that room, dismay at the sound of that word.

I love a lot of stuff. And quite a few of it is bad for me. Like The Chocolate Wave. And I have it once a year, for my birthday. I plan for it, I make arrangements for it so that it has room to be appreciated, and so I look forward to it. Things like that, I can still enjoy. But, I won't be going out of my way to spend time with any of the five. They are what they are, and they've grown up this way; now, in their sixties and seventies, the die is well and truly cast. I'll see them from time to time, at funerals, at conferences and tutorials, etc., just as I always have over the years, years that I put up with for the sake of unity :roll: . I'm done with appeasing. Instead, surround me with loving souls of like mind; it is with kindly hearts, that I crave communion.
So much wasted time...

Those were the last words of the late David Cassidy. No one will ever call him 'seer', or even a minor philosopher. But in his last moments, he looked back and he was wise.



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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Fri Dec 01, 2017 1:15 pm

Another good night. I really think we're back on track with Duane's meds.

Yesterday I stopped at the pharmacy and came home with a bunch of refills, three meds of which he's no longer taking. Those combined caused his serotonin syndrome, and, of course, once you leave the counter, you can't bring them back. I thought that there weren't any refills on those, that the NP was just trying them out. So, we're out at least 45 bucks for medications that are dangerous for him to use. I'm so mad at myself. It's unbelievable, the stuff you need to stay on top of, especially when you don't have a second pair of eyes to help. It may seem a small thing. But it's really not, when I think of everything I'm responsible for.

I've complained about this for years. The myth of the informed consumer. You have to read and internalize everything, from your insurance policies, to the contracts you sign, to the paperwork for your furnace and how to maintain your dishwasher, to the probity of the people you vote for *cough*. The stuff from Girlfriend alone is overwhelming. And you have to do all of this why? Because 'the buyer beware.' Because you have to expect the unexpected. Sometimes there are honest mistakes made. But others are deliberate, and they are oblivious of the consequences that will befall them and only them, if the rest of us are lucky.

I am so ready for the New World Order of Baha'u'llah. I am so ready for people to all be on the same page, to realize that their behavior and character counts, not only in this world but the next. To start thinking of others as their own beloved, whether they know them or not.

Just thinking out loud.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Sun Dec 03, 2017 8:01 pm

Michael came over today.

I can't help laughing. We decided to go to the cemetery. It's been 24 years, this fall, since my father-in-law died, and we wanted to take flowers to all of the family. So we asked my kiddo, my baby, my pride and joy, to chose whatever he wanted and he picked up a bouquet of white roses! *squee* Yep, we Yorkist! I am so proud of him! Then, we had to walk down to the chip aisle for a snack bag of Fritos (carefully steering him to the little bags when we all saw him pass them up.)

But, when we got to the graves, we couldn't pull the vase out. Duane, Renee and I all tried, but it wouldn't budge. We ended up just laying the flowers ontop. It also looks like somebody brought a bunch of silk posies for Phil. I was able to stick the wire into the ground and stand them up. But his headstone might actually be ready to install.

I drove us down to the end of the property to turn around, and found a couple of stacks of memorials. There were two short ones, and one was a rose granite. Duane and I got out to look. There was a heavy piece of cardboard zip tied over each one, so we couldn't see a name - just a section written on the side. But, it would be nice if this is so. We realize that the ground needs to settle before they can do this. It'd just be so good to see him acknowledged is all.

We went to Wendy's, had lunch and kissed Mike goodbye until next time. When I got home, I pulled the three gift bags out from behind the couch and arranged them on top of the entertainment center. I wanted to hid them from Michael, and that's done. Now, I have to find another insurance plan.

I sure do. At the appointment last week, I learned that neither one of the doctors I'd seen over the past ten years, is taking what I've got.
So, since I still want to go to Duane's doctor - I didn't want to leave him in the first place! - so I'm going to see today if I can find a plan that his office will take. I can go with Premier; so much the better if I can sign up today...

Well I just got off the phone, and there are three plans offered in my area: CareSource, AM BETTER (who are they kidding?), and Marlina Marketplace. :wtf:

*sigh* What a crock! I'll call tomorrow, see if I can skip the marketplace all together. I don't want another doctor. I don't like going to the doctor, period. To start all over again? I really don't want to go back to whom I'm seeing now. I want who I had with Duane. So, I'll call them tomorrow morning and see what they take. I am thoroughly disgusted.


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Re: My dear Joon...

Postby shireling » Tue Dec 05, 2017 1:33 am

Okay. Here's what I know so far.

Going back to Duane's doctor is a no go. His office is not taking any of the plans that are available in the area - not even as a single plan.
A single plan would mean that he would agree to take me on as a patient, and there would be an alliance of sorts between CareSource and himself. That might have been possible if we had tried to do this back in August of 2016, when I had to walk away from that practice.
But I've been with the DO since, and she's been my physician. So as uncomfortable as I am with her, she's agreeable to seeing me. Now my meds will all be covered as are, because I'm with an in-network pharmacy. The problem is having someone to prescribe for me.

We're already at loggerheads over procedures. I'm not having any done until I'm on Medicare - and even then I don't think I will. The trouble is I know and have seen too much. All those years I worked as an LPN, I formed the opinion that unless preventative care gets rid of the thing you're looking for, I'm not doing it. Take mastectomies.

Mastectomies don't kill cancer; they find odd-looking things that you are then driven out of your mind over. I've watched friends and family frightened to death by these things; I've been frightened to death by these things. And there is still a battle royal over when a woman should start being squashed like a bug between two panes of plexiglass, or be ultrasounded. To biopsy, or not to biopsy. I don't understand why if a woman chooses, she can't simply have the breasts removed as soon as she asks for it. No dissection, no lymph node removal, no muscle damage - just chuck the things in the bin and move on.

Anyway, her office manager told me that Dr. C_ will work with me, and to try not to worry. It doesn't matter what I hear from the Marketplace. They may show that the insurance I've chose is available through her office, right through the 15th of December (that's when Open Enrollment ends.) But, on January 1st, whatever plan I'm carrying, may disappear entirely from the roster of acceptable insurances.

*sigh*

On a lighter note, AncestryDNA has marked down their kits from $99 to $69, and if you buy three, they'll throw in a fourth for free. We, however, will just do the two of us and triangulate from there about Mike. We have to do it this way; he is simply not going to spit into a tube.

I am so excited :D . I want Neandertal, and African, and Gypsy. I also want Celt, but that ain't gonna happen. I really think the Neandertal is a done deal. Broad shoulders, depression, diabetes, a barrel chest with mammaries like a goat - yep, that's me. I'll bet 35% of me is that. But African, now that would be so cool! I do believe we are, that we all are; that even the Neandies are from way down south originally. Hey! I just realized it would make the Bane treat all of us with more respect :yes: . Gypsy is because that's what my grandma told me. If I can't be Celt, then Gypsy would be great too. Duane says he doesn't care. HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE!!!!! This is the best thing since frozen perogies!!!!! I know you can't change anything about it, but I just think this is so fun to find out.

Anyway, I put in the order and I'll be watching for them. Well, it's 8:30 and I just might be able to get the sheets done if the laundry room's available. It's no fun sharing it with eleven other condos, but it's better than a rock in a stream. Here's hoping.


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