Optimism

I have a tube of bath gel named this and so the other day when I squezzed it onto the palm of my hand and found the spout plugged, I had to wonder....

January is tough enough with its sub temps here in Idaho to go around feeling really stoked. Whoever is in charge of the weather must have felt we needed a good old blast of snow. A lot of it. Then let it turn into freezing, wet sheeths of ice.

However it brought a day off from school and J. couldn't have been more happy or surprised by the whole matter! Yahoo!

More tomorrow. Cause I think I can go back to sleep. Which is an optimistic thought.

Flu and Cold Arsenal

Okay. I'm sure many of you have been dealing with the nasty cold and may have heard the cold words from your Dr. that even bacterial strains of this year's bugs are super resistant and they are finding even antibiotics aren't working!!

 

OR

 you may have a certain friend, uhem Ann, who amazingly hasn't had her kids get sick at all. She is attributing this to some oils diffused through, you guessed it, a diffuser.

I could only blink in awe that this could be the case. But my Madre has the same oils and we have been side swiped, too.

 

Personally, I think it is Ann's Green Juice Drink, which I will list in my Desperation Arsenal for those fighting Big Bugs.

 

This is what is next to the bed or in a pocket or cupboard close by:

 

Numero Uno: The dreaded asthma meds.

 

Yup. The darn Idahoan sub temps get us every year dang it!

 

So don't skip your asthma meds:

 

 

even if you think you are tough and asthma is some imaginary, weakling weakness in your armour.

Yes, inhalers make ya look weak. But sucking air through a straw at a stand still looks pathetic.

 

2. Yummy Smelling Soap.

 

why is this part of my arsenal? Because J loves the smell and this promotes him to wash his hands The yummy smelling soap go on sale in January and it's worth stocking up on them and the hand sanitizers. Cause those help promote a novelty in washing your hands when a sink is no where in sight.

 

3. Vicks Menthol Rub and Tiger Balm. Menthol is the key here. We've rubbed it on our feet, shoulder blades, chest, under the nose, along side the neck and massaged those sinus draining areas. I even put a dab under his nose and behind his ears.

 

4. The Tiger Balm is stiffer stuff and when I mix it with Vanilla lotion, it just soothes the arthritis and clears your nose. As does some mustard dipping mix I accidentally took a dip out of when my parents brought home leftovers from a Chinese Restaurant. Lil Sis had a baby, and they got take out. Or else Padre would never have picked Chinese. But I dipped a piece of bread in it and boy was I sorry. I burned my tongue, cleared my sinuses and drank a gallon of milk.

 

5. Neil Med Sinus Drowning Rinse. Yes, you can irrigate farmland and your face. Use distilled water. You can buy your own or boil some water. You can even make the little packets that the Neil Med people use. Google it.

 

6. Stand in a hot shower.

 

When I was in a Dr's office and he told me to try this I was almost insulted. Of course I'd tried a hot shower to alleviate the brain swelling. But it is relaxing to let the hot water hit your sore muscles and it doesn't hurt to have more moisture trying to relax your inflamed sinuses.

 

7. Those throat lozenges I told you about from Sweden. Little round life savers.

 

8. Mix water, lemon juice and heat it up. Not too hot so the honey you put into it doesn't lose its potency. This will cause your intestines to light up. But when your throat is so sore... it does help you endure a long night.

 

9. Heating Pad.

 

10. Humidifier. And drinking plenty of fluids. Yes, it's annoying to get comfy and then have to run to the bathroom. But it does help.

 

11. Forget having any hope that a visit to the Dr. will help. It won't. So stay home and save the gas and energy. Because like the Dr. said- those antibiotics are virtually useless.

 

12. A book that you can read one sentence out of every so often and be satisfied.

 

13. Plenty of rest. Good luck on that.

 

14. A neighbor or friend who brings over a meal or two. That one saves the day right there. Yes, chicken noodle soup is good. But when you get a really yummy meal by surprise..... it nourishes your heart and soul.

 

All we need now is Germ Control Laws implemented in the schools and we'd be set. The little kiddies could go through a conveyor belt and a microwave powered heating device would just zap all germs.

 

If a child went to pick their nose; immediate lockdown would take place until said child washed hands and was given tissues.

 

Whenever anyone sneezed or coughed, military gas masks would fall from the ceilings like they do in airplanes during an emergency.

 

These are just some ideas.... after hearing that one friend volunteered to clean desks after school for her child's school- I started to really think about what we could implement. Personally I like the idea of a dish washing cycle happening in each room at the end of the day. This would be expensive to put into the rooms, but well worth it. Think how much money would be saved!

 

And the last thing you can do is blog when you can't sleep because it requires you to sit up and let that stuff just drain.

Letter to Care / God's Sense of Humor; Prone to Prank? .

Care,

So I am locked out of my email account.

 The site asked  random question that I outfoxed even myself with, and now I can't check my email. How am I supposed to remember my Uncle's Monkey's Maiden Name?
Gosh.


So I am writing you in the new  old fashioned, Amanda way- a letter per my blog. One because I am to lazy to write or call you. And two,  because this is too funny not to share with the millions of down trodden, bored, or otherwise curious about why I would think

God has a sense of humor folks out there.

The God head is not only slightly jovially, but I think has a wickedly funny sense of humor. And he knows when to pull it out and tease you. When you are at the end of your rope. Taking things too serious. Need a good ribbing. Although it does bring flashback of familial ribbing growing up and that's just not funny.Until later in life or something. Because family moments of teasing usually involve jokes steeped in sarcasm and mindless life bearing scars if you don't find your sense of humor.


That is where I was. Not in the funny mode. I was  In the:  

"this particular event, trial, and office visit  is dragging on a looooong time mode."

 The mode where you look off into space and forget that there's a Celestial realm and a black hole or two that could be  a symbol of what you are going through. Which could be where you are; drifting in a black hole!!!!- but at least I was able to laugh inwardly  for a minute about beign in a

 black hole.

In outer space. Seemingly

Indefinitely, or at least until  a  Dr. or a pharmaceutical company rides the Milky Way tosses  some good news. Which I wonder how that would work; research on paper or transmitted to me somehow and how would they administer  a prescription medication while in a black hole? Is it possible? Star Trek or Star Wars junkies get back to me on this. .....

The Godhead being funny and teasing at our expense, isn't  LDS doctrine from my church, Readers. But I just have this sneaky suspicion...


After what happened the other day at a Dr. appt., not only was I converted into believing He has a sense of humor, but doesn't mind  playing a harmless prank here and there once in awhile.

This particular prank took place across town, on a COLD, no, FRIGID COLD morning in Idaho. At a Dr. appt. One of the many so I was in a really patient mood.  It took place on a morning where the sound of your footsteps crunching on the snow is more of a gravel sound and the shoveled snow on the sides of the drive are not mounds of pretty, rolling hills- but scattered with black and white stained shards of large glass. Because we don't shovel snow at this point, but ice. And it breaks up into pieces of that candy bark that comes on neighborhood goodie gift trays.

So Mary starts. And right there we are in good shape cause it is sub zero something. And I needed to get to this appt.

When I arrived to the appt, signed in and sat down to wait I stayed bundled up to keep warm. Which meant I looked like a Giant Marshmallow. I had on a jacket over my long john underwear, an fleece vest and then an Eddie Bauer coat that has lasted me since my days at USU.
That coat isn't too poofy and the recently the zipper has been acting up. Which is a shame. Because when you have something that does the job, it is hard to see it hit the end of its life.

No worries! We have a lady here at a Dry Cleaners that is apparently the Yoda of Zippers.
So I am almost hoping to get a chance to see her in action. Because as we all know once a zipper is done, it's done. You are out of luck. That particular piece of clothing is DONE. Unless you want to go around unzipped. Which can work with some jackets.

So I was all bundled, zipped to the lips and even kept my gloves on.

There was an older couple to my left who looked to be in pretty good health. I was facing the TV that is a special channel that these Dr.s must get that are along the lines of elevator music; the idea is to keep ya calm and mildly alert as you endure a dreary wait for whatever floor to you need to get to.

To my right was a mother with some small children playing with the table and chairs and other toys available to a waiting room. So glad I didn't have to entertain a toddler while waiting for an appt.- not a blast when you feel like death warmed over.

Then it hit. Emergency bathroom need! AAAHHHH! I was toasty warm! I didn't want to go! But I was early for the appt. and it was urgent. I jumped up from my spot where I was watching some video about plaque building up in the arteries of your body and what things were necessary to keep it from happening or something. All I registered was that the people on the pre-recorded videos are in top health condition, very positive, and even plug in the name of the GI clinic I was in. Like Taylor Swift doing a voice over for a radio station on one of her songs or something.

As I walked to the bathroom just a few feet away, I started peeling the layers. The bathroom was ice cold. AND it didn't have a hook on the back of the door for any of my stuff. The coats, my huge yellow purse. There wasn't any place to put my stuff.

I take that back. Above the sink was a little shelf that could have held a small purse. So I did my best to juggle all my things without resorting to putting my stuff on the floor.

This was no small feat, Care! I had to put the coats in one arm, balance my heavy purse over my shoulder and keep all of them from dropping in the toilet as I placed the toilet bib on top of the seat.
(You know those paper outlines of the seat that should make you feel safer that you are sharing that seat with a lot of people. Especially in a GI clinic. )

Finally, I got sat down, adjusted my bag onto my lap and wearily rested my elbows onto it. The LOUDEST blast came out of nowhere. Here I was in this vulnerable position and it sounded as if a fire alarm had gone off briefly. And it wasn't from the toilet.

My initial response was to duck and cover. J and I had watched a little video the day before about a man named the 'Candy Bomber'.  He  WWII pilot who dropped candy from the sky. So my mind must have been in WWII aircraft mode, but since I was already on the commode, I could only really react with a head bending, scrunched shoulders, brace for the bomb.

Surprisingly, under the pressure of such an alarm; still unknown at this point, I didn't scream. But it did scare the "turap" outta me. (This is a cute saying J. used when he was scared on a Halloween night by some pranksters. Good thing he went to Peach Therapy to get his speech impediment fixed.) 

Well, the alarm came from my purse.  I'd packed some of that elaborate safety. and I carry around for protection, into my purse. A big blast from the boat horn had been set off by my elbows while I was sitting on the throne, in the GI's office, out in the middle of space in a black hole.

 I'd never done a trial run on the Boat Horn; so I was unaware of the volume, length and its ability to draw attention. I now know it works. Really well. Even in a black hole. 

This blow horn woke me from my chilly coma, started the blood pumping into my outer extremities so as to warm me and it  startled me to a ttention and deducing how I could possibly have to evacuate the building.

Once I realized it was just a "pracitice drill", I could only shake my head, and laugh.

The whole waiting room had to have heard the horn. As I performed impeccable abilities to clean up and keep all of my things from gracing the tiled floor, I wondered what on earth I was going to say when I left the bathroom. ??????????????????????

"Don't worry folks, false alarm." ?? Do I compose my laughter before I walk out? Will they think I was trying to undue the plumbing or something in the bathroom and find my smile a guilty verdict?

As it happens, I went with  this: Girl exits bathroom after huge blast  feigned deafness. Surprisingly, Nobody seemed too interested or curious when I walked back to my chair. Which was some prettttttyyyy good acting on their part as well. Or maybe they thought it was the pipes. too?

This event was totally a wake up call. The drowsiness I felt; Gone. The downhearted, boo hoo, why me? feelings were totally down the drain. I could not help but smile. Or try to keep from smiling and laughing. Which made me look like I was in the wrong Dr.s office.

This Celestial prank was payback for  me wanting to use the horn on my friend's kid while they watched a movie one night. The HS kids were down in her basement watcing a movie in the theater late at night and we were getting sleepy. Some of them were cozying up to each other on the couches and getting into that warm, safe, unaware you are gonna get a wake up call.

Earlier in the eveining  the house had been a buzz with three or four friends for each of her kids. She'd  even fallen asleep on the couch upstairs while I'd been reading. All the hullaballoo sent me down stairs. But she was in a coma for a bit and when she woke up she was surrounded by the teens oblivious to the poor mom on the couch! They continued to yap and giggle, etc. So she sent them downstairs. Where I was. DOH!

So  when we were talking upstairs later that night I devised a plan to use the boat horn on them while they watched their movie. We laughed like we did when we were kids and getting into trouble. I couldn't wait to see them jump.

Well, I  Failed to follow through because by the time it was all quiet and perfect to scare them, I'd fallen asleep.  My lightweightness can really be a downer. So the wake up call backfired on ME in the Gastro's office while on the john, no less!

Darn teens. I gotta tell Ann about this too.

The only explanation I have for this was that I was getting too serious, the Lord knew I needed a wake up call and a good laugh. The only sad thing was, there was nobody to share the moment with! Old couple either didn't hear it, or were too kind to wonder what on earth..... and the kids playing must have thought it was a mock fire drill or something.

I'm going to have to find a new way for safety. The pepper spray is still a debatable tactic.. The horn.... I don't know if it would phase anyone in a parking lot. So it's back to the drawing board!
Because there is NO WAY I"m having that kind of scare EVER again.

Any Readers out there with some ideas for safety?

I think what I am going to do is go buy a hook for the Teton Gastro's bathroom door. I don't care if they even reimburse me. I'm going to Home Depot, buying a sturdy hook for coats and a nice bag, taking Padre's drill out to the office, and screwing that puppy in place!

How is your week going? Call me cause I am going to have to contact the email folks about them locking me out!

Ahoy,

A

Good Morning Gil!

Is there some Disney movie/cartoon where it shows a child waking up when he is told and interacting sweetly with his mother/father/caregiver/orphanage director?

Because I have some strange dillusion that J. will behave hypothetically like this:

Me, up and ready for the day wearing a dress and cute 50's apron, tiny waist and singin while I put scrambled eggs in front of a little boy. The little boy is in a plad button upped shirt and his hair is already combed, his face is washed and there is a twinkle in his eye as he thanks me for breakfast.

Child:" Mom, thanks. You're the best.. I'm glad I woke up on time that I have enough time to eat breakfast with you and talk about how much we love eachother!"

Mother: Oh, Sweetie. That's the nicest thing I've heard. Beside you memorizing your multiplication table faster and faster each day!!

Reality:

Me: Jadennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!! Gettttttt UUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!

J:

Me: JADEN H.D. GET UP.

J: OKAY! (Said as if he is the one on prednisone.)

Me: (state time)

J:

Me: (state a later time than previous.)

Child finally emerges from bat cave with hair cowlecks everywhere.

Me: Good Morning Gil! (Off what about Bob)

J:

Me: I said Goood Morning, Gil!! (purposely sarcastically)

J:

Sits up to table where food sits and does nothing but stare off into space. Time ticks. Mother reminds him to eat and walks from room to do something.

J: .... says something that makes me skip one and two strikes and straight to the clencher.

ME: STTTTTTTTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKKKKKKKEEEE!  You are OUT!

I say in upmpire fashion.

Child continues. Mother stays firm. Child leaves. Mother feels guilty and sad.

And now mad to.

Child will climb onto bus without a second thought and by the time he barrels through the door after school will have completly suffered amnesia as to his behaviour and why he won't be able to play.

boo hoo. Becaue I really wanted him to be able to play. And his consequence is basically a death sentence to me cause that will mean we get to hang out together while he is still in a chirpy mood.

I can't wait.

Apple Vinegar Results and Interruptions

Yesterday, or last night, I promised to tell you about the experiment using Apple Vinegar to help ease inflammation--- LIVE INTERRUPTION:

"BBBBrrrriiiinnnggggg!!!"

Me:oh no. The phone is on the floor and I hope it isn't Padre. We've already talked in the last 30 so if it is him, it has to be a call where he wants something done.

*
Yup, it's him.

So I stretch over in the least likely good way for your back instead of doing it Physical Therapist Properly.

Me: Hello?  (wincing.)

Padre: "Manda?" he asks As he drives to a trouble shooting place for work.

Me: Yes.

Padre: "Could you do me a favor?"

Me: What kind... I haven't been able to do much just yet. I just eat some crackers and got dressed. Is it an elaborate thing. Like hook up a car to a battery charger?

Padre" "No. There is a blah, blah, blee, blah, blah, blee up stairs I think by the blah blah blee. Could you locate that? And then put it on my desk so I don't lose it?"

Me: (thinking to self: I am gonna lose it.) Okay, once I can make it upstairs I will blah, blah, blee, for you.

Padre: "Thank you!"

Me: Nauseated from this sinus thing. Wondering if I could talk with Hillary Clinton about her concussion experience and if we share some similar symptoms. And if she has gotten a sinus infection and how that's made her head feel post concussion. Because my brain feels like it is seriously swelling and I wish I could just put a shunt in the back to drain off the pressure. But I'm not a surgeon. And my appt. to see the ENT isn't for several days. This has drug on for a long time.
I can't take an antibiotic. I've stood in a steamy shower, irrigated. (This is a sinus procedure that is basically drowning yourself then giving yourself CPR and hoping it cleared the sinuses.

Me: This is some of my best writing about being a stay-at-home daughter and professional patient  I am staying true to my blog. But why am I pushing myself to do this when it hurts my brain? Should I call my Dr. who I just saw and ask for an MRI? Or holler mercy and tell him I can't endure any longer and let's risk taking an antibiotic? hmmmm.

Me: Man, I wish I could implement and try out some of those really cool ideas off
moderndaymoms.com that deal with White Vinegar. Dang. Which Dr. should I call? The one I am going to see or the one I saw for advice or answer on the antibiotic deal? Should I try drowning (irrigating) myself again first?


Back to the point: Apple Vinegar didn't really work, I don't think.
And, Reader, if you have Crohns or tender tummy this will burn like Ajax down a drain. So don't do it unless you have intestinal tracks of steel.

As Jaden and I joked the other day with the line from The Grinch Stole Christmas (Jim Carrey)

"Well we've done our worst. And that's all that matters!"



 

fweu! ;my new love of White Distilled Vinegar

 

 

This was a kindergartner's spelling of Whew!

 

So now, whenever I make it through something, save something from breaking, get out of jail free card from Padre for a mistake made on his walls or something I think:

 

fweu!

 

I still have the envelope Jaden wrote this word on and it goes up on my magnitboard.

 

So while I drink my water and Apple Cider concoction to help with sinus pressure,

 

Here are a few "fweus" that have happened lately:

 

Mary- the van passes little cars on slick roads, icy roads.

 

The sub temps that gave J. a day off and maybe some kids a chance to recover from the flu. Which sounds like fweu- so it could be an interchangeable word.

 

Jaden does not have the flu.

 

A web-site with more tips on it that I am in awe. The latest- White distilled vinegar cleaning up some gummed up fiskar scissors. Oh, and helped in the laundry category.

 

awesome! I had given up hope of a fweu in some of the clothes future!

 

WD-40. It can be added to the cocktail of stain removal recipes and dropped me to my knees in prayer.

 

Not having to be OUT in the cold. Our neighbors in Jackson Hole had 30 below temps not counting the wind chill factor. fweu, glad I don't live there and have to try and start Mary under THOSE conditions.

 

I was complaining of having to pull out the long underwear for our mere 16 below or something.

fweu!

 

Getting to the end of the day after accomplishing all the needs. Like appts., meals,

answering many q's from a child and living another day on prednisone.

 

fweu! I'm tired. I will let you know if this Apple Vinegar clears the nasal passages tomorrow or if it will be another night sleeping upright.

 

AND

 

I will test this little concoction involving White distilled vinegar on a carpet stain.

 

If I can get this to site to upload my pics it will be even more fun.

 

 

Oh, and one last nugget- Jaden asking me tonight if he should get his birthday wish list going yet.

Because it is so close! (yeh, right.)

 

I had to hold back from saying: Fuey, kid! Bdays are not like

 Christmas and as you age, you don't get big birthday parties.

In fact, you have to just be happy with your cake and ice cream.

 

Cause big bday parties can really be a stressful event. And becoming older just makes your Madre want to keep it simple.

 

fweu!

 

Looks like I'm going to have to enlist Padre's help with the upload pic problem. Sigh.

 

 

 

 

 

Loose Pillow and Laughing Out Irrationally

"Uh, oh." Padre said as he pulled his neck pillow down from the closet and stated to uncase it from it's plastic sack.

 

Me: What? as I waited for toast to pop out of the updated retro toaster.

 

Padre: "What's this?" Revcealing the plaid pillow covered in a pillow case; a direct sign I could have used it. But I've had my own for a long time so couldn't place using it recently.

 

Me: A pillow?  I asked like  narrowing my eyes like a kid who needs glasses,  when the teacher has asked a question and the student is naaawwwttttt too sure about an answer given in front of the whole class.

 

Padre: Yes, but what's this? (referring to the Winnie the Pooh pillow case.) with a look of fear crossing his face.

 

Me: A pillowcase. (said confidently)

 

Padre: Do you know what this means????

 

I shake my head, rack my brains to the time I'd last used it, and wonder what he is truly asking. Then my toast pops from the toaster.

 

Padre: Somebody has been using it. And that means it has been getting around!

 

I sighed relief and explained I'd owned one for some time, that if it was me, it was used only upstairs on his chair or something. So he was clear of getting any flu during this stomach flu season. He dejectedly walked back to his office to continue with work.

 

Alluded becoming toast for a day I started to eat mine. Close call! But I had to laugh that he'd act like his pillow was a call girl for other necks in places he doesn't know.

 

**

The other day I got a good laugh at J's misunderstanding of a word. Which can happen a lot. Especially when I use big words and don't hand him a dictionary right away or talk to him in the way Lemony Snickett, the author of A Series of Unfortunate Events, does; and that is to give you the definition of a word, or how a word could be used in the particular setting.

 

So we are driving. Veered off of onto the exit leading to Idaho Falls and Jaden asked me this:

 

 

J: Have you ever Laughed Out Irrationally?

 

Me: You mean lash?. Lashed out irrationally?

 

 

J: NO!' Laughed out irrationally'.

 

Me: Laughed, as in laugh like the joker in Batman, laugh?

 

J: Yeah.

 

Me: ummmm... hmmm. I can't recall laughing really hard lately. Or irrationally. I think I laughed pretty hard during such and such movie.

But then I look back and wonder if I do any Heath Ledger or Jack Nicholson laughter and pretty soon I'm thinking of the scary show where Jack is trying to get into the freezer locker after he's gone coo-coo writing a book  in a deserted   hotel resort minus himself. Oh, and his innocent family.

 

Who knew you could get cabin fever in a big destination? 

 

J: Have I laughed out irrationally?

 

It takes seconds to pull up times when he and his friends get so wired you have to hog time them down before they turn into Big Jokers.

 

Me: All kids laugh and it can make parents irritable. So, yes, you have.

 

Sensing he is misunderstanding this common phrase, and wondering where in tarnation he heard it

 

 Me: 

 

Do you know what lash out and irrational mean? as he looks a bit confused confused with his answer and trying to express it, I tell him what they both mean.  

J: Ohhhh. Have I ever done that"; "lash" out irrationally?

 

Me: All children, who want something and throw a fit  in the grocery or toy stores do, so yes, you have lashed out irrationally at time.

 

J: Have you?

 

Me: Yes, I have.

Dear J; My Theater

Dear Jaden,

You are asleep. I am awake. But I have to write you a "letter".

Remember I wrote you one with the Cody, Wyoming hotel's stationary? And you never opened it?

It's in your scrapbook when you get around to wanting to read a long letter.

 

This letter will get read by many. Possibly. Unless they think it's just to you and grant us privacy.

 

I want you to know how stinkin' cute you are. No, really. The other day you wore a shirt of Nic's, hoodie, and bball pants. You accoompanied me to "the office" and sat patiently for the first half.

 

I laughed when you asked me: "What is that sickness you get from hospitals?"  (Staph)

 

My reassuring didn't help when we walked through the circular revolving doors still holding red poinsettieas and you spotted a couple people with masks on. I loved the glare you gave me for inviting you on this little outing.

 

You sunk into the other chair in the office when you realized three people would be coming in to chat with me, wait while I read fine print warning label information from the FDA and signed my Johnny Hancock initials on the appropriate lines.

 

You were so relieved when it was all done and I wasn't going to be hooked up and hydrated or something. So we had a date. In the cafeteria. You asked if it was like the one at school- not even close!

 

It was hopping in there so we didn't wait in the yummy food lines, but quickly picked up a cheeseburger for you and I got some salad. We split a huge Rice Krispie treat and you offered to fill my drink after you got your Sprite. In line, we talked about the side effects of Caffeine which were slightly less dangerous than what I'd read from the FDA.

 

You picked out a perfect spot- the only spot left, really. It was by the window and doors leading out to a garden area. When I needed something, you jumped up and grabbed it for me. A knife to cut my beets. Some more napkins. We scooted our chairs next to each other so we could hear one another talk.

 

We decided to take home leftovers so you jumped up again to go back into the cafeteria area and get a lid for my platter and another cheeseburger for later. On the way down the hill the sun shined on us in our car, but it was COLD. My toes froze while we chatted like we always do.

 

You said something so special that I needed to put in my journal and out there into the world for all to see. As We talked about having "things",

Like Ebenezer's big staircase and balustrades. I told you that if God gave me the chance to be totally healthy, be married to Scrooge, and have a handful of kids- I'd not take it nor turn in the chance to be your mom; to have YOU.

 

"So what your saying is, I'm your 'theater'." You summed up my point.

 

Yes.

 

Jaden, you are my theater. From the minute you were born, I have loved watching you- I even have box seats.

 

It reminded me you told me I was YOUR American Flag. And your Coca- Cola. Caffeine Free if you wish. Or straight with lots of chopped gas station ice on a hot day. And recall the time you had your tonsils out and said I made you feel like a chocolate chip? That was probably the pain killer I gave you after you took a swig of vinegar thinking it was a water bottle. But it still made me melt like one in the oven.

 

 Today's theater comment made me feel like one of those round Lundt chocolate truffles. 

 

I love watching you. Thanks, Son. And don't hate me for posting this letter- I don't have my journal on hand.

Love,

Your American Flag Momma



A Shoe Rack for Footballs, etc. End of Year Inventory

Sorry to double post. Think of it as Talk-o-Tuesday! After starting the ventrue of cleaning out closets, which really was a desperate attempt to do inventory on what I had for clothes in a bigger size, I pulled out the shoe rack.

Does anyone else despise these things like I do? Why do they not work? Shoes love to become sleds and slide right off of them. Or maybe me throwing shoes in the closet doesn't help the poor thing do its job.

WELL, It has a new job, folk.s And I can't wait to find the rest of J's footballs, somewhere under the snow or beneath beds other than his own- but here is what we started with........ magic.

No more, "Mom, where is the one football......." Nope. Neft footballs, real ones, smaller college ones, ones for the Nerf hoop; all RIGHT HERE.

Ka-ching!

And just wait until I finish the sword, play gun project. It is so easy you will shake your heads in disgust.

If you find it very sad that such an idea could make me so happy, well, you'd have to know J. and know how these balls mulitply faster than rabbits.

Too bad some of their siblings, the most exspensive ones, are MIA. ugh. This picture is bitter-sweet.

Good luck with your 2013 inventory/organizing!

Edema, Prednisone, Moon Face= Horsetail

This post is to save others the hassle of looking for an answer to water retention from prednisone- nothing but getting off of it will help the chunky, moon face and other swollen areas of your body. Period.

 

Full Moon from the other night. Put in perspective by different settings of camera. Something not afforded to you on prednisone....

 

 

You can read the rest of this informative post if you are bored, up late on prednisone, or just curious. 

When you are on prednisone for a long time- and I mean more than a week or more; more in the category of year(s), you get some really, really wicked side effects.

One of which is Edema.

 

It sounds like a name a star would give their child and then try to patent it. But it's just fancy for: legs like elephants( i.e. major overall body water retention.)

 

My little "edema" was so bad one night I was ballistically trying to reverse the hurt. I had my legs up in the air against the wall in my room, compression socks on, wrapped my legs in J's sprained ankle emergency kit bandages and hoped for relief.

The big toe was close to needing amputation by the strangulation. All I'd done was walk around shopping, do some laundry and basically try to live as normal as a stay puffed marshmellow can under the circumstances.

The elevation:brought the swelling down.\

 And right into my abdomen and face.

My ankles, that were as puffy as if I HAD sprained an ankle were compressed into submission, but the joints still hurt so bad. The inch of water below my knee disappeared but it still felt like someone had broken my legs.

Now that water/fluid/blood/toxins was on the other half of my body.

Hmmm.

THAT helped.

So don't do that; elevate, compress and massage one end for a long period of time or else, like an hour glass, you just reverse fluid location.

 

Remember that one part in a STephen King's book where the lady breaks the guy's ankles? I think it got to a point where I was wondering if the joint pain in my feet, lack of potassium and overall side-effects bordered on that pain.

 I doubt it, but I wondered.

 

 

 

 

I unswaddled my strangled/ anemic looking appendages and started googling.

 One person mentioned home remedies for edema- when I got to the part of her blog suggestion of "Horsetail" I stopped reading

 I have never heard of this herb. Primrose, okay. But Horsetail.....

I'm assuming she meant it was an herb, like I said, I  stopped reading at "Horsetail" and figured

Horses Rear

cause I knew in my heart of hearts-- after a good 15 years of prednisone use, that this water retention doesn't go down til you are off the med so suck it up. -But it is still fun to google when you are desperate.And sometimes you find something funny or amusing. 

 

Sure, avoid salt. Drink a lot of water. Try to move around. Put your feet up above your heart a few times a day, if you've got two hours to spare. (they suggest 4 times a day of doing a 30 minute above your heart propping of your feet so it can just go to your face. Which hurts your neck and brain.

 

 

Bottom line: Don't get your hopes up of avoiding the side effects until you are off of it and it is out of your system.

Which can be up to a year.

I'm sorry.
 

DO try to find a send of humor. DO try and find clothes that fit and don't point out your trouble areas.

Good luck on that.

 

I've decided that only brooches are a good way to distract. BIG, GAUDY, LOUD ones if you want to really draw attention away from your moon face.

The full moon name for December is: Full Long Night's Moon or Full Cold Moon.

 

One last sob story of swelling.

The saddest event of this swelling took place when I moved one of my rings, a keepsake from my HS sweetheart onto a pinky finger. It was a Sunday and I was putting on some jewelry, shocked to find it only fit the pinky. Well, I was switching a load of laundry and the ring flung off my pinky- since it wasn't completely a tight fit, hit a metal file cabinet and flung into laundry room oblivion.

 

I checked the drain first. NOT there! The Black Hills gold ring, with my birth stone in laid between two leaves was officially declared lost after 3 minutes of searching. It will be up to the laundry Gods to reveal its location.

 

I hadn't worn ANY rings in a long time and the day I try to put some on, whelp. Gone. By the way, they say not to wear rings or bracelets because it draws attention to the swelling too.  But I wanted to make sure they knew what they were talking about. They do.

 

So stick with brooches, I guess. Neclaces possibly, depending on what you are wearing and how long they hang down. 

 

Oh, and to cover the swelling in your abdomen choose shirts with a big vertical stripe down the middle.

Hope this saved you the time of going out to some farm and trying to get some Horsetail.

 

**

 

This was written a few days ago. But tonight my Dad offered to help me look for the ring.

That's when it hit. He gave suggestions and I went into the depths of the laundry/storage room where we have a year's supply of both and looked for the special gift.

 

Long black flashlight in hand I peered into the dusty cob webbed recessess behind furnaces, file cabinets and between cans of cream of chicken soup and tins of wheat.

All it did was make me cry.

 

(not for the ring, but that my Dad would take such an interest in helping me find it.)

 

Second ring I've lost. Second time I had lost that ring. Well, it wasn't lost, just not on my finger and I noticed it missing during a test during college so I thought I'd lost it enroute to the testing center.

 

 I cried then too. For all the lovesick, missing my sweetheart reasons and sick to death to have lost something I'd worn every day since I got it.

 

I raced through the test, ran down the slick hill past the Hart Gym, searching the snow worn path-toward my apt complex with tears streaming down my face, crashed into my apartment and there it was- on the dresser beside my bed.

 

I sunk to the floor in relief. leaned up against my bed and put it back onto the finger it lived upon. How great the feeling of finding something so cherished!

 

I regretted speeding through the important test, felt embarrassed that my face was flushed red in front of my room mates all over a ring, but they understood. 

 

It was special.

 

It still is because it tells my story. But I'm not too upset about the loss. Too many losses in life help you deal with what you can't change.

 

However, I hope that one day, whether it's when we open a box for a new holiday, or open a can of peaches, or on one of my many trips into the laundry room- it appears.

 

I know it's in there.

 

Maybe it won't be found til years from now? Will One of my grandkids find it. like I found the strand of pearls outside digging while putting in new plants along our fence?? Or will another, new owner of this house at some point come across a ring. How sad, they will never know the story behind it!

 

That's why I love jewelry. I don't own much. My gnarled, swollen hands are too ugly to wear rings at the moment. And I usually wear silver or white gold. But the Black Hills Gold has pink undertones... It wasn't brassy on my skin. It was perfect. And sweet. And I love

But what I do own, has a great story behind it and is why I love them.

 

Those stories are in my journals.