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Still Here – or There

15 Mar
     I came home last night, typed up my blog, fed all the critters, and fell into bed.  When I went upstairs, our bed was made, but the guest room bed was open, as that was where The Squire had started to sleep. I was too tired to turn down our bed, so just flopped there. Slept straight through until 8:30,  when both the cat and Blazer came in to inquire after my health, “and by the way, we’re starving”.
     I had every intention of going to early church, which starts at 8:00, so that took care of that. I ate some breakfast and ran a few errands, and went on down to the hospital. The Squire was drifting in and out of sleep, so I just sat and knitted, like Mme. What’s-her-name during the French Revolution.
     The doctors seem to be giving this everything they have. They are keeping The Squire hydrated, which is the big thing at this point, as he has had liquid diarrhea to go along with all the other stuff. Diarrhea alone can kill you, so that’s a big deal. When I was there last night, they had put a “pot” into the toilet, and the tech came in to get two different fecal specimens for testing. They have ruled out c. difficile (?) and food poisoning, which I had pretty much eliminated anyway, as we had both eaten the same thing for dinner. Other than Imodium, I.V. potassium, and the I.V. fluids, I don’t think they’ve given him any sort of medicine. He has, at least stopped vomiting, which is a big help. They say his blood is “compacted” – too thick from all the loss of fluids.  His blood chemistry is all out of whack, and the staff is just trying to keep ahead of the symptoms.  Every once in a while he will get a searing headache and spike a fever, which nobody has been able to explain.  I did ask for the doctor to call me, as a) my husband is hard of hearing, b) he is so sleep deprived he admits he doesn’t always know – or remember -what he’s told, and c) I have a medical background and can get a better handle on what’s being said.
     He had gone to his urologist on Wednesday and that doctor had told him the blood tests showed his blood was “too thick” and recommended he see our GP about it. We think this crud was already working on him then, although he doesn’t remember any symptoms.
     Everybody has been wonderful.  The I.V. technician came by to make some changes to his line, and I told her he had just drifted off to sleep. “No problem. I’ll come back later.” I know the woman had five patients to see just on this floor, so that was really kind of her.
     At the moment, The Squire understands that there is a good chance they may release him tomorrow after lunch. He did have chicken parmesan and peach cobbler for supper – the first solid meal he’s had since Friday lunch. He wanted to walk around the unit for a bit, so I helped him get a gown on to cover his back, and then he brushed his teeth. By then he was exhausted, so he never did get his walk.
     We only have one bathroom, and that is on the ground floor, so I will open the sofa bed so he can sleep downstairs.

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Never Get Sick on a Weekend

14 Mar

Friday night (was it only last night?) The Squire began complaining of severe stomach pains and burping almost immediately after dinner. This went on for a while, so he took some Tums and said he would sleep in the guest room, in case what he had was some sort of flu.  I take an anticonvulsant for my Restless Leg Syndrome, and it just plain knocks me out; I left the door open, so if he called out in the night, I would hear him.  About 11:00, he woke me up, banging on the bathroom wall.

I raced downstairs to find him standing over a toilet bowl full of blood.

While he pulled on some sweatpants I grabbed the clothes I had just taken off, and we left for the hospital. I hadn’t taken time to find my glasses, I was for all intents and purposes, on dope, and it was rainy and foggy.  God really does take care of drunks and fools. We got to the emergency room around 11:30 and I hung around until around half-past 2:00; the nurse told me he’d be several more hours and they would call me. It was 2:44 when I got into my car and the clock was just striking 3:00 when I came in the door. I think I was in bed by 3:05.

So – The Squire was admitted this morning, and they still don’t know what’s wrong with him. They have ruled out pyloric stenosis (rare in adults, but not unheard of), gall bladder, and a bowel blockage. The blood was because he had vomited so much he’d given himself a nose bleed.  Fr. Matthew stopped by, and I took down some things I thought he might want or need – a book of crossword puzzles, fresh pencils and erasers, his glasses. He said Blazer was quite concerned last night, whining and putting his paw on his leg, with long, serious looks into his face. “Anything I can do for you, boss?”

The staff at Franklin Square has just been wonderful. Can’t do enough for you, bringing me coffee, and asking if I wanted a meal from the cafeteria. All of the rooms are private, because of the Patient Privacy Act (Thank you, President Obama!) and visiting hours are 24/7. There is a recliner and a pull out couch in every room, and no charge if you want to stay the night.

Anyway, we hope to get a diagnosis tomorrow, and then we shall see if this little jaunt is going to involve surgery, or just lots of fluids and bed rest.

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Of Hard Drives and Furnaces

11 Mar

The Squire found his missing hard drives late Monday.

I was sitting on the sofa reading, and he came into the living room for a kiss. When he bent over, he discovered the cases sitting on the floor, under the end table – in more or less plain sight. Well, at least one can assume it wasn’t a place a thief would think to look.

We went to see our financial advisor yesterday (which is not quite as impressive as it sounds) and got to talking about misplacing things, and stuff piling up when you’re not paying attention. I remarked that from time to time I have to watch a rerun of Hoarders just to get motivated. Bill laughed and said his dad could have outdone them all; his father was a hoarder to end all hoarders. The house was so cluttered with stacks of papers and other junk that there were only narrow, unstable, paths to get from room to room. Many years ago, the furnace had gone up, and his dad had ordered a new one, which the men were unable to get into the basement, so they left it in the dining room.  Now old furnaces were big – maybe five or six feet long, by four feet high – and this thing sat in the dining room, taking up most of the space.

At some point, his dad was taken ill and spent some time in the hospital, so Bill and his siblings decided to clean the house. He said they actually had a celebration when they found the dining room table. (Sounds like my mom’s apartment, doesn’t it?) Imagine their astonishment when they uncovered the furnace! Here is this huge, hulking monster, so completely covered with junk nobody even knew it was there.

Bill said they were all very pleased with what they had accomplished, but their father never forgave them, and groused about it until the day he died. At least my mom was so foggy she didn’t even realize we’d cleaned up.  I wonder how long it took Bill’s dad to get the house in a mess again? My mother had her apartment “re-junked” in about a month.

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Still Digging

8 Mar

Well, in spite of some very, um, entertaining dreams, The Squire still hasn’t found his missing tapes.

He spent most of today entering family information from sheets his middle sister gathered at a family reunion several years ago, which he had picked up while we were visiting last week.  It is a wonder he has not pulled out what little hair he has left. As far as first names go, his family is as bad as French Royalty. Got a good name? Stick with it. He has at least twenty people named Alonzo, several in the same generation, where three siblings would each name a son after their father. Y’know, stuff like that’ll drive a genealogist bonkers.  Some people who filled out forms listed their parents, spouses and children as requested, and others listed only first names or nicknames, and one person, asked to list children and grandchildren only wrote “too many for this paper”. He has a cousin (or is it an uncle?) known only as Fat, and another is listed as Kissy.  And then there is a woman named Betty Elizabeth.  Who are these people?

Way back, when I worked for Blue Cross, I took a call from a fellow who was adding his infant son the his policy. His name was Francis J. and his wife was Frances M. The new baby? Francis T. “You named him Francis?” I asked weakly. “We named him after my father.”

What do these folks do when the phone rings?

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Playing Hide and Seek

6 Mar

We got a call from the vet at 7:45 this morning, saying that we could come up and get Blazer any time we were ready. We went to the Y and worked out, then swung over to grab the dog, who was mighty glad to see us. The tech said the vet had decided to close the clinic yesterday because of the snow, rather than risk somebody falling on the parking lot, and she had come over about noon to feed the animals. I must have just missed her, as she remarked “somebody had walked up to the door”.

Before we left for vacation, The Squire had backed up both computers and put the hard drives in a “safe place”, so now, of course, he can’t find them. I told him yesterday (after listening to him moan and groan all day) that if he thought about it really hard before he went to bed, the answer would probably come to him in his sleep.

This morning, he said he had been on an ocean liner, and had given the hard drives to the ship’s purser. When he got ready to leave the ship, he had asked the captain – who happened to be Jean-Luc Pickard – for his tapes. The purser had jumped ship at the previous port and taken the tapes with him.

So much for that theory.

Me? I hide the family silver. Him? He hides his Family Tree records. Just makes you wonder, doesn’t it?

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Two Very Frustrated People

6 Mar

In spite of what it says, this was written Thursday evening, the 5th. If I don’t post it before 7 PM, it shows up as the next day.

>>>>>>>

After a lot of wobbling back and forth about the oncoming storm – should we stay or should we go – we left Winchester, Virginia about 6: 45 last night, with warm-ish weather and a steady rain. Not too hard, but steady. We made excellent time, getting back home a little after 9:30, and that included a trip to the grocery store for milk and eggs, plus topping off the gas tank.

Eddie was extremely glad to see us! He insisted upon sitting in each of our laps while we checked our email, and then tried to sleep with us, which is simply not allowed. I did not know a cat could make so many different sounds! He sat outside the door and cried from 10:00 until about 2:30. When I came back upstairs, he was on the bed, and stayed there all night. He followed The Squire down in the morning and actually sat on his lap while he ate breakfast.

When we woke up this morning at 7:30, it had just begun to snow. I called the vet to see about picking up the dog, and got a recording. OK, maybe they don’t open that early, so I just left the house at 9 and drove on up.

Nobody there, and the lot had not been plowed. I went on up to Bel Air and picked up 40 pounds of birdseed and a dozen blocks of suet and headed back down the road. The vet’s office was still not open.

To say I am distressed is an understatement. It is bad enough that Blazer is not being cared for (although I’m reasonably sure they must have automatic food and water dispensers, the dog can’t get outside to take care of business) but there must be other animals there who have had surgery or need some sort of attention, and they have also been abandoned. I sent an email to a friend who worked there before she moved to Chicago, to ask if she had any personal phone numbers to I could contact somebody at home, but haven’t heard back.

In the meantime, The Squire was doing battle with Comcast.  Over a week ago, he asked them to change us to  their “Triple Play” program, which includes TV, Internet and phone service for less than we are currently paying for just TV and Internet, and would eliminate the $40 we pay to Vonage for our phone line, which includes unlimited overseas calling. I don’t understand it, but apparently it would save us a considerable amount of money per month. Of course, we may end up paying that back out to cover The Squire’s nervous breakdown.

Instead of more TV channels, he has lost some of his favorites, and Comcast still has not managed to change over the phone line. Today the young lady to whom he spoke insisted it would be impossible to do this and allow us to keep the same number. Mind you, we were able to change from Ma Bell to Vonage without any problems, but Comcast is not able ( unwilling, more likely) to do this. We’ve had the same number since 1972, and it is an easy one to remember, with a nice rhythm to it.  He was on the line with them when I left to go get the dog, and was still on the line when I returned. He had been transferred five times, disconnected twice, and was about to completely explode when I got home.

Some young lady with a heavy accent called here in mid-afternoon, and said they would call us tomorrow to arrange to switch the phone number, but she still didn’t know if we cold keep the number. That may be the deal-breaker. We can always go with Vonage if Comcast can’t get their act together.

Aaargh!

Continue reading →

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Dragging Home

4 Mar

We visited several grave yards over the past week, looking for old tombstones. At one point I discovered I’d lost my cell phone, and The Squire had to keep calling it while I wandered around the cemetery with one ear to the ground. Fortunately, I had a pretty good idea where I’d dropped it; I’d bent over to take several close-up photos of one particular marker and I figured that was where it had fallen out. Ironically, I almost never carry my cell, much to my husband’s annoyance.

We’d lost some time due to the bad weather, so The Squire decided to leave Newport a day early to visit the library at Johnson City. I wasn’t very happy with this arrangement, but he has driven miles out of the way to take me to doll museums and waited while I’ve read every single label plenty of times, so off we went. Actually, the Johnson City genealogy section was just fabulous, and we both had a grand time, finding lots of information, so it was worth the trip.

The motel in Salem last night was not very nice – no heat in the bathroom or extra blankets – and The Squire decided to watch one of his science fiction shows. Agents of Shield, I think. I wasn’t very nice about it, I’m afraid. I don’t like science fiction, and I don’t enjoy violence, and I don’t like the volume turned as loud as it will go. My hearing is very sharp for someone my age, but The Squire’s CMT has caused the small bones in his ears to stop working properly, so he is very hard of hearing. At home, he uses the closed caption option, which is a live-safer ( and a marriage saver!) for both of us, but the TV at the motel didn’t have it.

We arrived at youngest daughter’s home before lunch, and will leave right after dinner. The weather reports are all different, but the general consensus is that we will have snow before morning, and we want to get ahead of it, if possible.

 

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Weird Day

1 Mar

—Well, not really weird, I suppose. Just “ultra normal”.

We got pretty well packed last night, and left The Squire’s middle sister’s home in time for church at St. Andrew’s at 10:30. Not a soul  in sight at 10:15. Finally, the rector wandered out and apologized profusely for what was obviously not his fault. The city was doing some major repair work following several major snow storms in a row, and on Thursday had notified the church that they would be without power from 7:30 until noon. The church had sent out a shot-gun email to the parishioners that services would be at 12:30, but hadn’t put anything on the website. As it turned out, the power had just come on at 10:00. Bless him, Fr. Tim offered to do a Mass just for the two of us. A sort of private interview with God, and Rite I, to boot.

I don’t eat breakfast before communion, so I was famished, and since there was no coffee hour,  we found a nice little Chinese restaurant and had dinner before we headed over to Newport.

We knew that our friends had to leave at 3:00 to go to a Lady Vols game, but we have been here often enough that this is practically a second home. They headed off to their game and we went to visit The Squire’s youngest sister. She smokes non-stop and visiting with her is more of a chore than a pleasure, but we girded up our mental loins and headed off. As it turned out, she is quite ill – she thinks it’s pneumonia – but that didn’t stop her from trying twice to light up a cigarette in the five minutes we were there.

We left the poor girl to suffer in solitude and came “home” to wash our clothing and ourselves. I had changed wigs before we left the house, but I still had to strip down completely and wash my scalp, anyway. Blech.

I moved Jane’s laundry from the washer to the dryer, put in our clothing, took my shower, and The Squire and I are now eating fresh homemade black bean and rice chili while waiting for the laundry to finish up. I emptied the dishwasher, and just hope Jane can find where I stashed all the plates and cutlery!

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Hanging by a Thread

27 Feb

Quite a while ago, I bought a very pretty set of quilt, dust ruffle, pillow shams, and curtains for our guest room. Most of the time the quilt is covered by the usual detritus of a sewing room, but a few weeks ago I decided to wash the thing. Once a decade, whether it needs it or not, is my motto. Well, when I pulled it off the bed, I realized it wasn’t actually quilted.  The top is stitched to a three inch wide green strip, which is sewn to a twelve inch wide strip of the same white floral fabric as the top. Those three rows of stitching are all that is holding the top, the batting, and the back together. If I had washed it all of the batting would have come apart and I’d have had one ugly lumpy mess.

The machine quilting I've been doing to make this monster washable

The machine quilting I’ve been doing to make this monster washable

So – I managed to stitch the green strip with big Xs, and have one row of plain stitching four inches from the edge of the white strip. I’ve also sewn around three of the big roses on the top of the quilt. A much more involved job than I anticipated, mostly because the blessed thing is so big.

I have done most of the straight stitching on the Xs using straight pins to mark the lines, but when it came to the long rows along the edges I decided to use a marker. I have a fabric pen, but the line fades so fast by the time I get to the end of the quilt it’s gone at the beginning. Tailor’s chalk doesn’t work on white fabric, so I grabbed a blue marker off the table. I had only gone three inches when the fabric sort of puckered under my hand, and as I moved the marker to smooth the cloth I discovered I’d grabbed a Sharpie – a permanent marker! – instead of the washable Crayola next to it.

I think I would have simply laid down and died, just flat on the floor, if I had ruined that blasted quilt at the last minute.

Still plugging along at it.

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I’m Not Crazy…

24 Feb

…I’ve just been tested.

The Squire and I went down today to meet with a neurologist. I had made this appointment before I discovered my problems were more likely associated with Vitamin D toxicity, and was sorely tempted to cancel it, but The Squire said we’d be better off safe than sorry, so away we went.

We had a bit of a chat, and then some fairly simple tests – what year is this? Date? Month? Approximately what time? Could I spell “world” backwards? Take this paper in your left hand, fold it in half and give it back with my right hand. The doctor said there’s not a thing in the world wrong with me, and not to worry.  He did say he’d never heard of the Vitamin D business, but I told him if there was a weird reaction out there, I’d be the one to have it. Such as the time a “non-drowsy” allergy med put me to sleep for two hours.

One of my friends had a doctor who asked her to repeat a list of words backwards, and do all sorts of crazy things. “Jump down, turn around, pick a bale of cotton” sort of nonsense, and she was actually put on medication and told she had Alzheimer’s, so I figure I got off easy. And she’s perfectly fine, too.

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