Rare Diseases---What Can We Do To Help?

Check out Brass and Ivory Blog by Lisa for details. Thanks, Lisa.
http://brassandivory.blogspot.com/2009/02/rare-disease-day-2009-feb-28.html.sidebar

Happy Birthday Chat With Mom, But Few Memories.

BRRRRR

Mom: "Hello?"
Diane: "MOTHER?" (We laugh at my usual greeting.)
M: "Yes,"
D: "Happy Birthday!!"
M: "Thank you. Thank you for the flowers!"
D: "I didn't send any flowers. I sent candy! But, you;re welcome for both." (We laugh)
M: "Oh, I loved the candy."
D: "Great, now don't eat too much at once."
M: "No."
D: "So, how is your back patch working?" (On last call she was getting memory meds via patch)
M: "Well, I don't know."
D: "Who am I?"
M: (indignantly) "My DAUGHTER."
D: (I laugh.) "Good. What is my name?" (Last time she kept saying, "Jason.")
M: "DIANE!"
D: "Wow! That's great!"
M: "I wouldn't forget your name!" (Uh-oh, she did on last several calls.)
D: "How old are you today?"
M: "41! No...that can't be right...how old?"
D: "Guess."
M: "51? No, wait I was figuring this out before you called...51."
D: "81."
M: "81? No."
D: "Yes, I'm your baby and I'm 52! We're getting old! (We laugh)
M: "I guess so."
D: "Well, have a nice day. Anything new?"
M: "No."
D: "Okay, talk to you later."
M: "Okay, thanks for calling."

CLICK She and I used to talk a lot about getting older, when I was a kid, she always said she would be happy to hit 80. Her mom died in her mid-fifties. With her bad diet, stress, smoking, I never thought she would see 75. You go, Mom.

Geek Squad You Owe me

One thing that really got messed during my move was my computer. I went to Best Buy, chose, made sure Geek Squad would transfer all my favorites, documents, and links over...didn't happen. It took me MONTHS to compose the 100 Chronic Illness Blogs and now they are lost. I paid the Geeks and I WILL make this right, but have patience. Some new bloggers are coming TO me, and that is great; so I hope the List will come back better than before. If your blog is about a chronic illness and you would like to be added to the 100---contact me with your blog address; I'll check it out and let you know when/if I can add your blog. The blog must be, with few exceptions, free of much advertising and life-story oriented, though many of my posts are varied and yours can be too, just as long as the reader knows what illness you are dealing with.

I like promoting blogs with few hits. You need to be read. You will help somebody who is in your shoes.

Complexities of Life All So Simple or Just Multifarious?

Oral surgery over, evil tooth removed, affects of 1979 car crash live on. Was told it was simple, take "10 minutes," turned out to be "complex" and took over an hour. Isn't that just like life?

The most simple things can really be very complex. I've been feeling stupid lately. There is just so much I don't know. I am over 50 and tick tock tick tock; no matter what I learn, there is so much more I never will. Sometimes the library overwhelmed me in this way---I could never read every book.

When I was a child there were no college educated adults in my family. My mother read to me every day, my brother was a whiz at math, but our daily vocabulary was mostly from the seeds of an Irish farmer. I could read words but didn't know how to pronounce them, if they were "big words."

Even during by career with the city, I often said stupid things like "mute" point. And, of course there was a co-worker who enjoyed making fun at my expense. Whatever, but I do feel so stupid and besides reading all I can online, at 50 I'll never figure it all out.

Anyone with a chronic illness can tell you that learning is not as easy as it once was. Even remembering is a challenge; but, still I will keep at it. I always loved philosophy. The one that got away.

Grammar, my sentence structure needs work; my spelling is atrocious and I refuse to give in to "spell check" all the time. Oh, heck, maybe just tax time bumming me.

Tooth Extraction with Infection, Man on Moon but This will Hurt.

My new computer is beating me up. I know my brain needs to try new things, but too much is happening at once. My posts keep posting too soon. %^&*() All my fault, but still $%^&*(). Today my partner is having oral surgery. She must have a local due to heart condition. A friend is taking her. She has been is terrible pain all week and there will be more ahead. When it comes to pain she never gets a break. She is a newbie; this is my last life. I know her further lives will be painfree. She is such a kind, sweet, honest person.

Wedding Party Dresses After the Fact. What do Bachelor's Want?

Going out on a limb: the bachelor will choose Molly. I think that because he smiles bigger with her than the others. At my oldest brother's wedding (I was, ugh, a bridesmaid) I had never seen him smile so big; never seen him so happy. Molly.

Oh, my brother left her and they divorced a few years after the wedding.

Any suggestions about dealing with ugly wedding-member dresses?

Netflix--A Good Fix, How to Live in with Assisted Living

My new home is not in a mixed retail building. I lost my easy access to videos. Horror. So, I took the leap and signed up for Netflix. C O O L So, easy, fast, and cheaper than the store I had used for 16 years. Of course, I must deal with my feelings of betrayal to "the small business," the owner was a gay man in a building that was once called, "The Only Gay Mall in America," sigh, those were the days. Another example of gays fixing up a rundown area, then yuppies moving in and big corporations taking over by raising rents. Back to Netflix---love it and we now have some catching up to do. This is just the beginning of small changes we must make to build our life here.

Obama and America Will Rebuild and Game On

Do you care about the stock market? Do you ever watch Mr. Yeller, er, I mean Jim Cramer?

I care. I do. And I am not worried. Maybe I am too dumb to be worried. It just makes no sense to me. Obama just (we are on familiar terms) just stepped onto the floor to give an address. The applause is loud and unyielding. He is talking about our messed up economy. His red striped tie matches the red stripes behind him on the USA flag.

He is saying that we will overcome our problems. He is on to inspire us. He is good at that. "Now is the time to act boldly," he says. I don't get it all though. A GE light bulb costs more than a share of GE stock. A worker will get an extra $13 a week in their paycheck. Wow, Woo-hoo.

Companies will be held accountable for tax payer money given to them, O K, oh, right, except if they send it to the Caymans or some other place where money can be hidden tax free.

Now, Obama is talking about banks. Diane loans her money TO banks and what do I get? 3% interest. Woo-hoo

I wonder when hand clapping started...why not stomp our feet or pass gas? Who decided? Three women are wearing red. They stand out. Now, Obama is mentioning actions our nation took during other hard times, like building railroads. Energy, health care, education, these are his priorities he says. "It is time for America to lead again," he says. Hmmm, can we get some cures for many of the diseases and chronic illnesses on my blog? Just asking.

"The nation that invented the automobile can not walk away from it," he says. Now, I thought we were supposed to "leave our cars at home," and walk more. OHHH, now he wants to seek a cure for cancer. I'm listening..."...health care reform must not wait another year."

On to education: He is making a promise to allow a good education to everyone. Hmmm, here in Seattle the news is about cutting school to 4 days a week. Maybe we didn't get the memo.
By 2010 he wants us to have the highest rate of high school grads in the world. Two words: teen pregnancy. We must have sex ed in middle school, bananas included. Ah, he is mentioning Iraq and the money we waste there.

Ha ha ha, no more shipping our jobs overseas and getting a tax break, some guy in audience rolled his eyes.

His hands are so comforting-looking. McCain just stood as Obama said he will end the war in Iraq. The hour is almost up. He gives kudos to our troops as the audience stands and turns their applause to a group of uniformed personnel in the room.

"The United States of America does not torture," he states firmly.

Diane will buy some stocks tomorrow. Our best days are ahead of us. The First Lady is wearing a purple, simple dress, on a very complex body.

MS Won't Kill You, But Watch Out For COMPLICATIONS

After being diagnosed with MS in 1990, I read all the books I could find about MS. What a difference from the vast access to info that people have today. Not much available, I still have two books purchased at the University Bookstore. (And Seattle has MANY bookstores, ironic that Amazon.com started here and put several smaller, wonderful, bookstores out of business.)

The chapter written by a MS Dr. stayed in my mind: After falls, people got much worse (never fall, Diane) and one of the "...complications from..." that kills is an infection. (Don't get an infection, Diane and if you do---take care of it pronto.)

Well, I finally fell in 2004 (or was it '05?) and it has been downhill ever since. So, when I was told after 5 days and over $50,000 of testing that I had an unknown "viral" infection...wouldn't you think I would have suffered a relapse or my neurologist would email, call, or show some type of concern? Me too, but, nah.

Guess my next move is to get all my records from the ICU...I wonder how much THAT will cost and it will cost. How wrong is THAT? $50,000+ and counting, the bills are still coming in.

Mystery Photo Answer

Mystery photo is "Chicken and Dumplings" served at my new home. I searched for chicken, and shouldn't there be a sauce? What else is in there? Much served food is a mystery to me. Many seniors here, lots of cheese, bacon, beef, Aunt Vi-cookin' and the clue: My eating days in Indiana, "Lord I can't go back there." Eating is a challenge.

End of My ICU Adventure, New Beginnings

We tried to make it work at our apt., but my caregiver was gone and my partner’s health had been slowly going downhill for years. She worked at her university job for twenty years and her body finally screamed, “No more.” We had been discussing our future if she too had to stop working. We had even been researching assisted living facilities. We knew the time was near, unless there came that miracle we always hoped for…she contacted one of the facilities after my first night home. I had fallen on top of her while transferring and back out came the medics to place me in my chair. Enough.

Three days later we were packed and moved into our current home. We now have the help we need, 24/7, and we are fed. I have never been taken care of before. It is a new life for me, a huge change for my partner to say good-bye to the job and co-workers she loved. Looking back, it happened so fast. We worry that our savings will not be enough; it has been one of the darkest times of my life. I can not thank my friends and family enough for their support. There are probably some I still haven’t even told. I still don’t know my new phone number by heart and oh, my dying laptop died during all this as well.

To be in a new neighborhood (I look out the window and STILL am not sure where I am.) without access to my online everything, thinking about all of you and this blog (I did get a friend to place a note on the blog), OH, and the new DVR I had just purchased---died; no TV, no computer, no compass, and Obama’s big day coming---YES, I did get to watch most of it. OHHH, and my cell phone died. Seriously, was the universe trying to tell me something?
So here I am. Still taking just one Valium 3x/day, and well, I don’t feel great, but every rebirth is hard.

Chinese-American to Join Obama Team---a Perfect Fit

Gary Locke, former governor of my state of Washington and an upstanding man. He was the first Chinese-American governor and I am confident he can lead as Commerce Secretary. EXCELLENT choice---right man, right time.

What Is This? Take a Guess (Clue in Song Below)

A Clue==Makes Loud Noise

NY Post Horrible Cartoon

How do we weigh free speech and a cartoon about murdering our president? The NAACP is boycotting the NY Post. When will good sense and personal responsibility embolden our freedoms?

An Ambulance Braves the Ice in Seattle

Bitter cold hit me first as we left the hospital. Two men quickly loaded the gurney into their ambulance. I got my first glance at the mounds of snow, something I hadn’t seen moving to Seattle from Indiana. All the tests and final diagnosis was the first my MD told me---a viral infection. Or as his fill-in put it, "When we can't find anything wrong then we say it was a viral infection." The bill would come to almost $53,000.00 How quickly a young family's life savings could have been wiped out without insurance.

As we proceeded along, the sights out the small window were shocking. There were many parked, well, parked is not the best word, more like abandoned cars everywhere I looked. Cars were rolling out of control through red lights and sliding without any bracing, or braking, down side streets. My ambulance drivers were constantly discussing their possible maneuvers as we raced at 2 mph towards my home.

Finally we found my side-street and holy rocky road, it felt like we were driving over a rock garden. Ice had taken over the smooth pavement. My apt. building entrance was in the middle of the block and the drivers were able to get very close to the entrance. Were my eyes deceiving me? What ho!? The front stairs had been completely cleared of all snow and ice! (I had no doubt that a caring resident had done that, as our management company never would have.) My amazement ended when I realized that ONLY the steps had been cleared---the wheelchair ramp was covered in a foot of snow over a foot of ice.

The two young ambulance drivers were pissed off too. They shoved, pulled, with so much might that I feared one would have a heart attack. (Why they didn’t just carry me up the steps, well, a mystery even to them.) The one guy was slight of build, the other was short but husky. Husky basically dragged me one yank at a time up the winding ramp, while Slight was bent over puffing on the cold air. At least I was moving, even though my cover had slipped off and I was freezing, soon I would be HOME. Then Husky shouted, “NO!” And Slight added, “Oh my God.”

Just a few feet from the end of the Himalayan ramp was a tree branch which had fallen from the shrubbery above. It rested straight across out exit. Husky plunged his manly self right into the middle of the branch and began pushing it up (Slight tried to help but he just was too weak), up, and out of our way. Finally I had made it to my apt. building door.

My partner was anxiously waiting with our front door wide open. It would be the last time I would ever enter that apt., which we had lived in for 16 years, again.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Revolt in the Revolting ICU, Miracle MS Walk?

The ICU was becoming less fun. Constant needle sticking was growing old. Lack of any information on results of tests was just insane. I felt better and wanted out. I drew the line. I wanted OUT. No bath for me the entire time; my hair washed only once when I asked for it. (My hair felt dirtier afterwards.) Teeth went unbrushed unless I asked. And THIS was one of Seattle's best hospitals? Milkshakes were dull and it simply was time to go home.

A "Rehab" guy was sent to make sure I could walk on my own okay. (Did I mention a bed pan was left under me for an hour once, even after I called for removal?) The youngster, er, I mean, the young man brought along another young man for observation. Let me repeat: He wanted to make sure I could walk before releasing me. Obviously a lot of research into my records was done before he arrived.

This reminded me of shortly after my hysterectomy when I asked my Dr. if I would be able to play the piano now. He said, "Only if you could play it before," with no smile and without missing a beat. DRAT! And that is why I love older doctors---they've heard it all before.

"I can't walk," I calmly told the boy, er, PT. "Well, how do you get to the toilet at home?"
"I use a power chair and have a set-up."
"Okay. Move to that chair." He gestured to a chair across the room. Now, I could have said many...things, but I politely responded, "Are you serious?"
"Don't worry," he tweeted, I will help you."
"How so?"
"I will keep you from falling." I clearly out weighed him by 20lbs., and nearly his height.
Soooo, without hesitation I reached out from the bed with my long arm, grabbed his shirt, and literally pulled him out of his shoes. He turned red.
"You think I am weak. Would you have caught me then?" He and his friend left, never to return.

That got me thinking, the entire time I was there I got no ROM (range of motion) exercises; course why would I expect THAT when I wasn't even being washed? Later that night a perky, older woman (PT) stopped by. "I heard you had some trouble with David," she laughed. Word travels fast in the gossipy, hospital family. She proceeded to apologize for him, that he didn't understand MS, and what could she do for me. ROMs were done for 10 minutes and I never saw her again.

The next day I was rolled out of ICU into an open, but private...cubicle. The infectious disease doctor stopped by and we had a civilized fight. It ended by his saying, "I don't want to argue with you." (Ah, the death of discourse. He thought I should stay. I asked for one good reason why and what more could he look for? He had no reply.) My MD "Bob"-ha ha) stopped by and I said, "You can't keep me here like this. If you can't find anything wrong, I want to go home."

"OK," he said, to which I gleefully shouted, "I LOVE you!" He said back, "I love you too!" We both laughed and a few hours later an ambulance arrived to take me home.

Again, I had never seen the snow or ice I heard so much talk about, but I only lived a few blocks away---what could go wrong???

TO BE CONTINUED...

Wasn't Ponzi on Happy Days?

From a Dicken's story in the 1800s (and maybe before)--Ponzi was a criminal, making money off financial schemes in the early 1900's, his catchy name lives on and into every other news report lately. Ponziesk men live on and always will. Learn about money, learn how to build your money safely, remember Ben Franklin's words and not P.T. Barnum's.

Ben: " A penny saved is a penny earned."

P.T: "There is a sucker born every minute." (In fact, true that, as history says P.T. never said this. LOL)

Diane: Stay cool, think positive, America will put money in our hands again."

What Is Wrong with Me? Take Some Blood.

A phone and menu was given to me during my 2nd day in the ICU. I chose a treat I figured I might be able to keep down. I had arrived the first day severely dehydrated, IV fluids were immediately begun and soon to follow antibiotics and Valium for my spasticity. (Though the Valium never seemed to do a thing for me before and I never took the dose prescribed: 5mg every 3hrs; yeah, having seen Valley of the Dolls there was no way I was “going there,” though my then neurologist told me “…addiction is just a behavior,” yeah sure and cancer is just unreleased anger ( I prefer science to pop psychology)

I digress---I ordered something I hadn’t eaten in 45 years: Jello. The best damn Jello I ever ate and I crave Jello even now. When the nurse saw I ate the Jello with no problem, she suggested a milkshake. WHAT?! So, at 2AM I called and ordered a milkshake. Then at 5AM eggs, potatoes, and toast. Then at 11AM a hamburger, fries, and salad. All good nutrition out the hidden window. Why was the staff fussing over pizza?

The staff finally coerced the pizza store owner to bring some pizzas. Night two I heard a lot about how treacherous the streets were. All this time the tests on my body continued, my arms were running out of veins and skin to puncture. A catheter was shoved in day one. Every test found nothing wrong. All my systems were working fine. Still the specialists visited, with no news, and my patience was wearing thin.

“Has my neurologist checked in?” “No.” (She IS affiliated with this large Seattle hospital.) Obviously, the fact that I had MS meant nothing and the fact that infections can cause exacerbations meant nothing to anyone but me. I ordered another milkshake, held out my arm for another needle (Did I mention that in the ER a scrub DROPPED a needle on the floor, picked it up and stuck it in me? Is that like…kosher? A nearby nurse said to him, “Did you just drop that on the FLOOR?” “It’s okay,” he replied nonchalantly.)

Day three I was suddenly being rolled out of my room and into another, next to a talkative roommate who wanted to know alllll about me. My daily Dr. stopped by to say they couldn’t find anything wrong and I might get to go home, but the infectious disease Dr. wanted to stop by first. “Yeah! Can I take my regular MS drug now?” He said sure. I was shocked that during all my time there my spasticity was not bad at all. Hmmm

After taking my Zanaflex I dosed off to the sound of my roommate asking something about Indiana. I awoke to see about five doctors, several nurses, and a dude taking my blood pressure. One of the doctors said, “Do you know where you are?” (Was this a game?) “Seattle,” I replied while remembering how my mother had been questioned when she was being checked for Alzheimer’s.

“Where in Seattle?” asked the doctor. PLEEZZZZ with a raise of one eyebrow and a grin, I named the hospital. He wouldn’t let up. “And do you know who I am?” Well, since I’d never seen him before in my life I jokingly said, “Bob!” Then the BP dude switched cuffs, “There is nothing wrong with these,” he said in a concerned voice as I realized that Dr. was MY Dr. who had been seeing me daily.

My blood pressure was 60/17. Back to the ICU.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Grey's Anatomy is Real! Snow and Pizza Don't Mix

Lung specialist took over, more CAT scans, ultrasounds, no problem found. Time for a bed/room in the ICU (Intensive Care Unit) where the Grey's Anatomy cast resides.

First just let me say: I was in the ICU TWO days before I realized I was in the freaking ICU and therefore I really must be unwell. "What a nice big room they give you here," I thought.

Behind me was (I was often told) a big window. In front of me was a wall of window doors. Looking out I could see holiday decorations galore, "Think Snow," one demanded, HA! Every hour the nurses and staff were complaining about the snow. They sounded (my hearing is superb) angry and concerned about making it out of there, and getting food. Pizza was their desire, but no place was delivering, not even the big pizza chain around the corner.



Now, let me say, Grey's Anatomy (minus McDreamy or Steamy) exists. The constant conversations besides food was who was dating who, who was buying what, whose man was acting up, etc.---plus (I kid you not) there was a linen closet with a cot in it and more than once I saw a male and female disappear inside, too long to get a sheet, too happy to step out...separately.

Oh, maybe I just watch Grey's Anatomy too much. So, I mentioned to the pretty, blonde nurse, what I had seen and heard and she blushed, choked on her guilt and said, "You have good ears."



After that the shades to my room were kept closed, but I could still hear the conversations. Quite entertaining for entertainment in the ICU. (I had a TV, but it was stuck on a food channel.)



At this time I was hooked up to various machines, some so big that they barely fit into the room. I did ask questions, but some people just ignored me, not even eye contact---freaky. My MD is not affiliated with any hospital so he sent his MD assistants. Funny, they all look alike. When the lights went out my body never stopped being interrogated. There was a blood pressure cuff on my arm that tightened every ten minutes. There were cuffs on both legs that blew up tight, then released with a loud "whoose," every 15 minutes. A person stabbed me for blood every few hours. When I got home I was black and blue for weeks. The ICU testing continued for five days and four nights. Oh, my lungs were fine.

More machines, more ultrasounds, many more blood draws, were in store for me. A good friend, with a car and courage of steel, drove partner to visit me. I hated for her to see me so beat up. I had a phone and had called her the first night. She wanted answers, but so far there were none.
My neurologist was a no-show and never even replied to an email I sent after I got home. Grrr
I don't think I slept two straight hours there. But a wonderful event was about to happen,

TO BE CONTINUED...

Whoopi, Rosie, Slam Dunks over Bill O'Reilly

Don't ja just love the Whoopi Goldberg and Rosie O'Donnells of the world stickin' it to Bill O'Reillys of the world? That is how it is done: with calm, control, and class. I always found a bit of humor was necessary to take on bullies. (Nice to see Bill on Obama's side though. Uh-hem)

If you missed it, Bill put-down Helen Thomas for the way she asked some questions during a press conference. Helen rocks!

Taking My Multiple Sclerosis to the ICU

Seven, yes, seven firefighters arrived to wait with me until the ambulance arrived. The two ambulance drivers lifted me onto a gurney and off we went, eight blocks to the large, well respected hospital near my apt.

From the moment I entered it was a whirlwind of activity. The man in charge seemed most concerned about my heart. I directed him to take note (poor bastard) of my vomit, which my much concerned partner had placed in a small Tupperware container for future evaluation. (She, needing an electric wheel chair herself, had no way to go with me; besides we have a rule---one stays back to hold down the fort. And again, WINTER STORM.)

The leader of the pack of young scrubs with needles took a quick look at the treat I brought and asked, “You don’t want this back do you?” in a calm, low, seen-it-all, voice. Following my fast laugh and, “No,” he tossed it Tupperware and all in a “TOXIC” container.

He was a handsome man. Blue eyes to dive into, soft gray hair, and just enough facial lines to express wisdom and experience. I didn’t know at the time that he was a cardiologist. He planted himself on a chair in front of the bed I was on. (My entire 5 days there were all about big machines behind me, showing much “Diane” information, none “Diane” was privy to.) To wit: I clearly recall his name tag, used his name when joking with him and yet, when my partner called to check on me she was told a cardiologist by another name was attending to me; I received a bill from THAT unknown cardio, but I swear he never saw me.

Dr. Blue Eyes thought that although there might be a bit of blood (or perhaps not) in my gift, that the problem was my “tacking” heart. Apparently I presented with tachycardia, super fast heart rate. My heart rhythms were playing on a screen behind me---no Jazz, no Motown. So…Dr. Blue Eyes did what anyone would: he had the scrubs stop my heart. You heard me, STOPPED MY HEART, twice, a defibrillator stayed by my side for the next hour or so. The idea was to reboot me. It didn’t work.

This was followed by an EKG, EEG, ultrasounds, photos, a shot of something that makes you feel like you are about to die. To Dr. Blue Eyes credit, he did warn me I would feel that way but only briefly. My brain started shouting, "Diane! You are not asking enough questions." At one point a woman took my new (see previous post about the hell I went through to get that $%^& ID) and I kept thinking, "She better bring that back." (Nope, she didn't---another story.)

Yes, I kept telling everyone I had MS, but many had not a clue what that even meant.

Many lessons were taught to me in the ICU. Lesson #1 Whatever “specialist” is observing/testing you will believe your problem lies in his/her speciality. After a CAT scan of my heart, sonar something, MRI, and more blood draws than at Dracula’s Thanksgiving; my heart got the A-OK.

Next up: Let’s check her lungs.

TO BE CONTINUED

Seattle Perfect Storm for Multiple Sclerosis Adventure

Where to begin? Oh, sure---at the beginning, the problem is I don’t know where it began; and I don’t know where it will end. Maybe it was all just life, just another blip on many years of ups and downs. This does feel different though. I guess I won’t know for awhile. Perhaps it will never end. Perhaps it is all just star dust.

A few days before Dec. 19, I started feeling sick. Now I don’t do sick. My stomach felt queasy, and as I had recently posted (or commented somewhere), I have never vomited. I vomited. To describe what it looked like would be too horrific; but suffice to say it looked bad, dangerous-bad. Oh, and I was unable to hold water down, unable to swallow my Zanaflex (for my MS spasticity, which I have taken 6x/day for 10 years) which keeps me from being rigid. Oh, and my heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode like Alien from my chest. I don’t get sick though and simply thought “it” would pass.

This all was taking place during one of the worst winter storms Seattle had ever known. Seattle doesn’t “do” snow/ice/cold storms. Apparently if one survives long enough, then one will do it all. (I’ll ask Aunt Vi---102 on Feb. 12th.)

My always prompt caregiver, who would be many miles away the following week on vacation to visit her parents (Oh, right, Christmas was coming.) heard of my sickness and was valiantly trying to drive up/down the ice sheeted hills of Seattle, in an effort to get to me. Finally she parked and walked through the snow (buses had pulled over and cars were playing fender-bender tag on the slick streets) almost a mile to get to me. She quickly agreed that indeed I was sick.

My neurologist got the first call (a call she will never get again) and I could not speak to her but her assistant told me to stop taking the Zanaflex (?? Had she heard a word I said? And “do you have any anti-nausea medicine?”). Next call was to my Dr. Captain who told me to go to the closest ER and get admitted to the hospital. “What COULD it be?” I asked.
“Well, it is either something very serious or just a virus that has to run its course.” The concern was that the vomit seemed to have blood in it. The final call was 911, during the worst snow storm Seattle had seen in years. I would never see a snow flake fall.

To Be Continued...

The Seattle Bachelor or Jack the Ripper?

Am I the only one who finds "The Bachelor" TV show the most unromantic game show ever? A guy who sleeps with one woman, then another, then another, all the while telling us, the viewers, how wonderful each woman is---romantic? GIMME A BREAK

He "...has fallen..." for each one; uh-huh. What gal wouldn't love a guy who just slept with, "...I have to know you are really into me..." some other woman he just met?

Seriously, I got hooked on this show while recuperating without a computer or newspapers. The ratings are high, must be the beauty of Seattle. The guy is right out of Sleepless In Seattle, houseboat and single dad---awwww. I've posted before that Seattle is full of handsome bachelors; 'tis true, but this guy is just a dawg.

Do young woman think this is lasting romance? GIMME A BREAK

First Things First

Thanks to all my good blog friends and well-wishers. It feels great to be back among you. The last month and days of my life have been , well, interesting. It all makes "LOST" look as common as "See Jane run..." a long winding story indeed and of course I will share it all with you as time allows. Apologies in advance, as I have a new computer---enough said, or as the Geek Squad said: "Sorry."

OK, can't wait to tell you all about "it."