Dress Like a Total Dork Day

Looking at this picture need I say more...?

(That's me, Susan, Jimmy and almost Nancy admiring our new little of Siamese kittens when we were living in Valdosta, Georgia. Picture circa 1970),

Celebrating Long Distance Day

When I found out that today was Long Distance Day it made me stop and think what a blessing the telephone is. Without it I would be unable to call the people I love. I would miss the phone calls that I have most everyday with my dad on my way to the car pool parking lot. During those phone calls we get the chance to catch up on what happened the day before. Long distance also affords me the opportunity to chat with Mom on those rare occasions when she is awake and lucid. I miss the long and detailed calls we used to have several times a day when living in Georgia.

With long distance I get to speak with my grandson who is now beginning to have real conversations with his Grandma Carol. I especially enjoy it when he "shows" me something through the telephone. I get the chance to speak with Corey and Nikki and share in the activities of their lives. With my cell phone, I get the opportunity to experience some of the fun events as they happen in the lives of the kids.

This one was entitled "Ah, the art of buggy surfing"...

This one is "I love ice cream"...

"Check out my new bed gmom and gpa"...

"Saturday With Daddy" . (Notice the sweatshirt).

"He's a regular Picasso"...

Long distance is a wonderful thing in that you can call old friends and family whether they are across the country or in another country. I remember when I used to think long and hard before making a long distance call as it was quite expensive to do so. Now days, we don't think twice about doing so. The longest long distance calls I've ever made were to and from England to the McLean's. (I almost married their son John. That is a whole nuther story).

I still remember the first phone number I ever had to memorize. I was in first grade and back in those days you learned your pone number just in case you ever got lost. It was PARK 35496 in Hampton, Virginia. The number was dialed on a telephone that looked similar to this...

When Joe and I first started dating, we would talk on the telephone for several hours each night. I can't even begin to remember what all we talked about for those hours on end! Ah, new love - it makes you crazy and non-sensible. Think of all the sleep I lost! And that was long distance time. I can't remember the exact amount of my cellphone bill after the first month because I definitely went over my monthly minutes, but I do remember it was very expensive!

The strangest long distance call I made was on top of a snowy mountain peak outside Laramie, Wyoming using a bag cell phone when Corey and I were on vacation. We had borrowed it from some friends so that we could keep in touch with Mom and Dad while we were on our trip and we would also be able to book motel rooms when we decided to stop for the night.

Anyway, I could go on and on about how long distance has affected by life, but won't.

Here We Go Again...

Joe is back in the hospital - again. Yes, we went a grand total of 54 days since his realize from the last hospital visit. Here's the timeline for this stay thus far...

Friday - September 17th - Joe and I spend our day going to various doctor appointments and running errands. One of those doctor visits include blood lab work being done to determine all of his various kidney function levels. The word is not good. I get a call from the doctor saying Joe needs to be brought to the hospital Outpatient Department to receive some intravenous Lasix to relieve his kidneys. We go and that takes about three hours and we leave to go home around 7:00 pm. All is well.

Saturday - September 18th - Joe spends a miserable day of not being able to urinate. And, he's gained six additional pounds over night. The hard decision is made about 6:00 p.m. to go to the Emergency Room and have him checked out. We feel as though we know what the decision will be - admittance once again. We're right. After moving from the primary Emergency Room waiting area to another waiting room that is less crowded and more spacious, we are escorted to an examination room. It's the same room we been in before. It's the same room that Joe was in when he suffered his heart attack. Katie Jo comes to see us. See was in the er when Joe came in by ambulance after the heart attack and she recognizes him. Joe's nurse is almost familiar. She too is a rerun.

After three hours of waiting with Joe trying to not "freeze to death" under a stack of warmed blankets, numerous questions that have been asked countless times, i.e., what meds do you take, previous hospitalizations, how long has this been going on, etc., etc., etc., we are finally taken upstairs where Joe is shown his new temporary living space. We are back on 5th floor. The place we'd left 54 days ago. I began to feel as though we were in some type of time warp. How could we be here again? And, once again there were all these familiar people.

Room 500 - This is Joe's new home from Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Waahoo! He is coming home on Friday if all goes well. He's being given blood transfusions chocked full of iron. He's going to turn into Superman!

Pig Wrestling!

With Joe's recent hospitalization we haven't gone many places recently. Once you leave the confines of the city limit of Casper, hospitals and/or emergency help would be difficult to the find. Trina told us about some pig wrestling that was taking place in her hometown which is not too far from our home, so off we went with Jim and Jeannette.

Watching intently is our friend, Sue, Jeannette and Trina on the other side.

There was also a bike rally taking place so there were some very interesting people around that day.

The pig wrestling was divided up into ages also with the little kids trying first. The area was covered in slimy mud...

Then bigger people... The idea was to pick up the pig and place it in the barrel...

Aftermath of A Heart Attack

Today has been seven weeks since Joe had his heart attack. In many ways it seems so much longer. I still remember being at work when the emergency room called to say that my husband had been brought to the hospital in an ambulance because he'd had a heart attack. How could that be? He was at an appointment at the cardiologist's office doing a stress test.

I'll go back sometime, when I have the time and the strength to recount what happened in the days following the heart attack. What I need, what I want to write about at this time is the aftermath of the heart attack. I think aftermath is the perfect word for the last seven weeks. Aftermath means consequences, repercussion, after effects, etc. Many things happened to Joe after the heart attack. One of the main things is that he died. I was even told me he was without breath for almost six minutes. One day not too long ago, Joe shared something with me. He told me that when he was in that state of death he experienced something. He told me that he was touched. He was touched by someone and it was the warmest, most gentle touch he had ever experienced.

Those eight days in the hospital were long, life sapping long days of waiting on Joe. During that time Joe's kidneys totally shut down, he was on dialysis, he had a pacemaker installed, he went for too many tests to count or name, he was stuck with needles so many times it's a wonder he didn't look like a water sprinkler when he drank liquid, he hallucinated (a lot), etc., etc., etc. I was so glad when he got out of the hospital. I thought it might be easier having him home. I hated going to the hospital. I dreaded those many, many steps from the parking lot to his room. Having him come home hasn't been easy - it's been a living hell most days. It's been an endless round of doctor visits, lab tests, new medicine to be changed, picked up and/or deleted. It's been bills and more bills from the cardiologist, the nephrologist, the anesthesiologist, the hospital, the labs, the emergency room, the ambulance charge of over $6,000 for a one block ride, the $60,000 pacemaker, room charge and the list goes on and on. There are the copious amounts of money spent on the numerous drugs purchased on what seems to be an almost daily basis.

I confess I've been mad. I am mad. I'm pissed with this phase of my life. I feel as though I'm a mother to a very large toddler. I feel boxed in to a life that I didn't ask for. I feel smothered and at the same time sad that I seem to have lost the man who I fell in love with. I am not ready to be a caregiver. I want someone I love to be able to be a functioning, normal, giving to me person. I deserve it. I need it. For over 1 1/2 years I've gone through broken bones, rehabilitation, pneumonia, congestive heart failure, diabetic highs and lows, eye surgery, intensive care, almost weekly doctor visit and everything in between. I'm tired of changing oxygen tanks, sorting and dispensing medicine, fussing about what has or hasn't been eaten, not being able to sleep all night because Joe doesn't sleep when he should.

I won't go into details, but this week was a pivotal point in our relationship. Joe has been mad. Joe is frustrated. There have been issues that came to the surface; that came to a head. There were things that happened that I hope never happen again. There were promises made that had to be reinforced by both of us. There have been things said to each other that should never have been said by two people who love each other. And Joe and I do love each other. But now I understand why some marriages break up under the strain of traumatic and dramatic changes in their lives and relationship.

I went to visit a dear friend after work today. Marla recently lost her husband due to a lingering illness. She was one of the first people I met when we moved to Casper and we always felt that it was meant for us to become very good friends. We have offered each other our shoulders when we both needed a good cry or some encouraging words. Last week I had to call Marla to come check on Joe the other afternoon. He wasn't feeling well, I was 45 miles away at work and she is the one I was able to reach to come to the house. Marla had just gotten out of the shower and as soon as she dressed, she came straight to the house. Things did not go well for Joe and I that afternoon upon my return home from work and Marla had sent me a text this afternoon checking to see how I was doing. I decided to stop by and see her today before going home. That visit became a blessing to me.

During our conversation, Marla said something that became a "revelation" to me. It instantly brought me to a clearer and more loving understanding of what might have caused the strangeness and the madness of Joe. Earlier I wrote about the experience Joe had when he "died". The warm, loving touch. Marla said that maybe Joe was mad because he had had such a wonderful experience when dead and he had "to come back". She also said that maybe he thought it was his time to go and he was "brought back". Maybe it has been difficult to live each day for the last seven weeks knowing that his pain and healing could have all been over and he could be with that warm, loving, gentle touch. When she said this, it was as though a light bulb came on for me.

All this made perfect sense to me as my sweet husband had steadily become someone I felt as though I no longer knew. Whether what Marla said is true or not, I find deep solace and comfort in her words. One day I will share my "revelation" with Joe when our wounds have healed and we continue to nourish our love for each other. Because you see, I do love Joe and I know he loves me. I cannot imagine life without him. I love him from the top of his fuzzy little head to the bottom of his eight toes. Love is not always easy. I can testify to that, but in the end we can only try to nurture that love each day and don't take that love for granted.

How Many Women Does It Take To Change A TIre?

One Saturday morning Joe and I picked up Jeannette to head to Trina's home north of Casper. Jim wasn't able to go as he wasn't feeling well and was left at home. Jeannette had never been up in the area where Trina lives and we were going check out the Hole-In-The-Wall. (That's where Butch Cassidy used to hid out from the law). So, off we headed with Jeannette and her camera in the front seat.

Some of the spectacular scenery...

We were having a wonderful time laughing and enjoying ourselves when all of the sudden Trina spoke those dreaded words...."I think we have a flat tire" and we did. So, we all jumped out, scrambled to find the instruction manual to locate the spare time and figure out how to change the flat tire. Even Joe helped - him and his oxygen tank - he "supervised".

These pictures show what a desolate location we were in with the flat tire. See all the traffic that was around to help us? This is what it looked north, south, east and west...

By the time the tire was changed, two of us were hot and sweaty and it wasn't the too standing watching Trina.

We never made it to the Hole-In-The-Wall. Too afraid we might have another flat tire and no spare. So, that'll be for another day.

A Remembrance of Georgia

This gardenia bush is what my best friend in Wyoming, Trina, gave me for my birthday present. She knew how much I miss my gardenia bushes.

White Water Rafting Trip - 7/24/10

Last year while exploring the Wind River Canyon (see blogs dated 7/26/09 - The Return Trip Through The Canyon and 7/25/09 - Wind River Canyon) last year about this time, Joe and I saw some people rafting down the canyon. We thought it might be fun to celebrate our 6th anniversary by floating down the river. And, that's what we did this year. What a blast!

While waiting to be suited up, I spied this bumper sticker. If you've ever seen the movie "Deliverance", you'll understand the sticker.

Here we are outside the company that was going to take us down the river. Great staff and reasonable prices too.

Here we are all suited up for safety with our life vests and helmets just in case we fell out of the raft. Those are the rafts behind us and the shuttle bus we rode on to get to the place about 12 miles down the road where the rafts put in.

View from the bus at the launching point...

Once in our raft, we were given instructions of what to do if we fell in the river. Do you know how cold that water was? I had no intention of finding out. Not long after getting into the water this train came by us...

This is a map showing the various rapids that we floated, rafted and paddled across. We put in at the lower canyon and went through various "classes" of rapids - the highest being class IV. It is defined as "Long rapids; waves high, irregular; dangerous rocks; boiling eddies; best passages difficult to scout; scouting mandatory first time; powerful and precise maneuvering required. Demands expert boatman and excellent boat and good quality equipment". One of those was named "Freight Train"on the Wind River.

There was our raft and one other in front of us and it was fun watching was about to occur with us, but happening to them first. Here we are just shortly after getting into the river and before any of the rapids.

Happy Joe - smiling and dry...

This is one of the boulders that fallen into the river sometime in the past. It was called the "House Rock" because..................it is as big as a house!

This was our guide named Vanessa...

Tipis on the bank...

Another reason why there aren't many pictures of me. Joe took this one and I was really craning my neck to be seen.

But then the lady across from me took pity and took my picture...

A beaver dam along the bank...

Some of our first rapids. My butt got wet at the first one as you do sit on the edge of the raft and not inside it.

Joe still in the boat...

Just sit back and enjoy the ride...

Joe enjoying the end of one of the rapids and that he was still in the raft...

More pictures to be added later...and yes, we were wringing clothes, dripping wet by the time we left the canyon.