Jammie Party

Tomorrow morning I will be having the surgery. My same carb-avoiding friend is here for another jammie party. We went shopping, found some new slacks, had dinner, and she drank a small bottle of wine. I passed on alcohol. I figure general anesthesia and alcohol are not a very good cocktail.

We played with the dogs and the very old cat. We talked about old times back to grade school. She gets the master shower in the morning and I get the main bathtub. She has coffee and I have a sip of water coming in the morning.

She used to live so close to here. We really miss being able to just pop in on each other with a batch of cookies or a story of a new boyfriend. We always had fun. We drove to Florida together once in a 1978 Jeep Grand Cherokee. I had whiplash before we went and was hanging from the rollbar for a good portion of that trip. We camped. I miss those days!

Good friends need to be cultivated and treated as something priceless, because they are. We have had open and honest talks about things my mother would have slapped me down with a strap for even knowing about. I hope we can always be around for each other.

I ask that my friends do a healthy, happy, healing dance for me. Praying works too. Silly me. I am more nervous than I was for my hysterectomy, which was a major surgery. I thank all of you who have sent me good thoughts. I appreciate it more than you can ever know. Sniff. My friends are special!

But I need that Dairy Queen on the way home. xoxo

Food? Food! Food!!

Being nervous before having one's privates sliced is probably normal. Thinking about going out to lunch on the way home from the hospital maybe isn't, but I am thinking I will be really hungry by that time. I will have gone over 15 hours without food or drink. While I am willing to lose a few more pounds, I prefer to lose them by my own choice. So I am thinking about where to have lunch tomorrow. I may have to pick a place where I can stand up. Dairy Queen is a good comfort food for me. Maybe a deli, then the DQ. Pizza sounds good, too. Maybe I should go check these places out today just in case.

I left two more pounds in Toronto. I apologize to whoever found them. I won't miss them and I hope you wear them well. If you need a few more, follow me around. I have lost 15 pounds in the last few months. While I have hit my goal weight, I intend to lose maybe another 10. I think most goal weights are too high. I prefer thin. My current romantic interest does not. Hey, then he should stop burning a couple of pounds off me when we get together. This is the man who gave me a tour of two Canadian cities on foot. We both love to walk.

This is turning into what Connie, aka indigosunmoon, calls a thought salad. I wonder what kind of dressing to use on that? I seem to be really hungry today! I should eat before I go to the grocery store so I don't buy 5 of everything. That is the best excuse I can come up with, and I am sticking with it.

I could be worrying about pain. I prefer to think about salads and sandwiches and ice cream and pizza and fruit and chocolate, oh my! Anyone want to go to lunch?

 

Tuck me in

On Friday I am having some female surgery done. This is not something serious or particularly dangerous, but it will probably be quite painful for a few days. Apparently I not only have a Pretravel Freak Dance but also a Surgical Freak Dance.

Maybe this comes from living alone, but I want to be sure that my house is clean, my laundry is done, and I have enough food here that I don't need to do much preparation or leave the house for a week if necessary. My general theory is if I cover everything that could go wrong, nothing will. My bills will be paid; I will have plenty of dog and cat food. Phone numbers will be on a paper near the phone. I have a large stack of new best sellers waiting to be read. Several friends will be calling to check on me and will come if I need help. I will call the doctor's office today to see if I need any supplies or prescriptions to be filled ahead of time. There is nothing worse than coming out of a hospital, emergency or planned, and having to sit in a pharmacy and wait.

When I had my hysterectomy I did not have general anesthesia. I insisted that I would not remove my contacts, and the anesthesiologist said I could not have general if I did that. I was unsure how long I would be unable to walk and was terrified of not seeing anything, since I didn't have any glasses. Finally I asked him what he would do. He told me that he would never have general anesthesia. I had a spinal with a cocktail in the IV. I was awake and I remember most of the surgery. I also learned that you can watch a lot in the lights, as the fixtures are somewhat reflective. I also remember being wheeled out, and thinking on the way to the recovery room, "I will start healing now." I don't remember the next 3 hours. Within 8 hours of surgery I walked across the room. The next day I was up and down the halls. I went home in 5 days because they wouldn't send me home with a staple remover. A friend picked me up and I made him go for a walk with me. We walked a mile, and he was tired. He complained that I walked too fast. The next day I took my dog and walked 2 miles. The dog didn't complain.

So I am not worrying about healing fast. I guess I just don't like going without food and liquids and then lying around in the hospital with no panties on, waiting for the doctor. I never understood why they make us lie there with no panties on. Why can't we sit and then remove our underwear just before going into the operating room? Why did I have to go without panties for my foot surgery a few years ago? At least this hospital gives us little private waiting rooms where we can wait with friends/family. They also allow us to walk with as much dignity as possible to the operating room with an open gown and no panties rather than being wheeled in.

Hm. This entry went in a different direction than I planned. Funny how that happens sometimes. Anyway, I will be online Friday afternoon and will be happy to chat with anyone who feels sorry for me being stuck in and missing my Friday night walk. I assume I won't be able to do the usual walk, but if I can, I will!

Just stay to the left, you can't miss it....

Sorry, I did neither much writing nor journal reading while in Toronto. My friend worked at networking our computers again so I could get online, but it kept knocking me off. I took it as a hint and decided to enjoy Toronto more instead of staring at a screen.

The computer class went great. It was a very full class, but even though this was a very first beginner's class, the students are actually more advanced than the ones I have had in the more advanced classes. I will not have to adjust the teaching for the student needs, unless I add to the material. Two ladies speak very little English, and one of them finally caught on that "click" means "push." Sigh. I still love seeing the looks of power and control and understanding that flash on their faces. I do feel badly that I had to ask one of the coaches to teach on Thursday for me, but it couldn't be helped. I had told the class scheduler the days that I would be out of town, but he assigned me to this one anyway. I am sure the class went just fine.

The dogs went happily to doggy camp. This is their third time there in 3 months, so they fit right in. My friend told me that the beagles took over the house and have already ascertained that she is an easy touch, so they walk all over her. She doesn't seem to mind. She finds them entertaining. She is a little frustrated that I tend to go to bed around 1 or 2 am, so last call is fairly late. She goes to bed at 9 pm, and has to get up to let them out "in the middle of the night" because they follow their normal home schedule. They gained enough weight in 3 days that I had to loosen their harnesses. I had joked to my friends that I will know if they overfeed the girls because I weigh them before and after camp visits. The beagles are bottom feeders and will eat until they explode. My friends are used to much bigger dogs with bigger appetites. Bad combination for their trim little figures. We will walk a lot this weekend.

So with the dogs settled in, I hit the road. The next hurdle is The Bridge. I spend the hour driving there from doggy camp telling myself that I can do this, I can pretend to enjoy the scenery from the top of the bridge. Right. Sure. No problem. I thought nothing could be worse than getting stuck on the bouncing bridge for an hour in traffic. I was wrong.

I hit the bridge with almost no traffic. I had nothing to distract me, other than the heavy fog and the bright sun coming up, right into my eyes. I couldn't enjoy the scenery because I could barely see it. I must have been driving due east at sunrise. The fog lasted about an hour and a half into Canada, but it was patchy, and not the kind where you can't see the front end of your own car. It was weak enough that the sunrise I was driving into was the bigger problem. I think I can say that the bridge was slightly easier this time. I didn't wet the car this time, either. I was too scared to let go.

I made good time to Toronto, but spent the 3 hours on the Canadian freeways worrying about the airport. As I have mentioned, I am fine in airports, but don't want to drive in them. I did drive into the Flint airport for Winnipeg, but that airport is no bigger than a mall, so it doesn't count. Toronto has a real airport, and I was afraid that I wouldn't find it or navigate it. I started worrying about it and finally when I made a last pit stop I asked for directions. I was told to stay to the left on 401 and exit 427 to the airport, and that there would be signs. I was told it wasn't "too hard to get to." OK, I told myself, I can do that. I found 427 last time to get to downtown, so it should be familiar.

Ah. I saw that it was very familiar. It went to the right. I was on the far side, about 5 lanes over, watching the familiar exit go to the right. I also saw the airport off on my left. Perhaps that is what the man meant. Next time, I will hunt him down and find out. I could see the planes coming and going. I had just a few extra minutes to get there. In the meantime, I was in the far left lane and needed to exit the freeway. There was a lot of construction and I never knew that many huge trucks existed, let alone drove in one city. I got over, exited onto 400, and finally found a real street. I had to turn, then turn again, then slid into a mall. I am comfy with malls. I went into a photo shop, assuming someone in there might not be too busy.

I found a very sweet lady in the photo shop to help give me directions back to the airport. She spoke some English, but wrote down what she said and kindly told me I can't miss it. Those words always scare me. I took off, a bit shaky by now, and actually got right to the airport. I parked the car, in 2P - who could forget that? I always have to pee.

As I was getting directions to customs, my purse rang. My friend had just arrived and wondered if I had gotten close to Toronto yet. I kept him on the phone while I asked him where he was. I finally saw him standing in the aisle and told him to hang up the phone. He didn't see me, and that comment confused him a bit.

We went back to 2P and got my car. I drove us to the hotel. He held my hand to help calm me on the freeways, and told me my palm was very sweaty. I am sure it was. Once we got the car handed over to valet, I was fine. My body temperature had actually risen or something, since I was hot and sweaty for a while, then cooled down. How do people do that kind of driving all the time? I guess I am just used to surface roads. We took surface roads back to the airport when we left.

As always, we had a great time. On Thursday I walked 8 miles while he was working, and then 6 miles with him that evening. We saw more of Toronto on foot. We returned to the Irish pub where we had gone our first evening together in Toronto in July. The weather was incredibly warm and sunny for Toronto in September. I think it was cooler in July. I am a terrible tourist and have very few pictures, even though I now have a nice little Nikon that fits into my little purse. I carried it all over. Too bad it can't take its own pictures, too. I never got lost walking.

Our room looked out over Lake Ontario. It was like being on the ocean, listening to seagulls and boat sounds. We had a window that opened, so we had fresh air and the lake sounds all the time. The windows went from wall to wall. The only bad parts were having to leave Toronto, and having to send my legal beagle home.

I had an uneventful drive home. The bridge was still there, but I got over it, shaky but proud to conquer it again. All the way there I swore I would never drive like that again. Then the drive home is so much easier, and my memory of the bad stuff fades.

I will not drive to Chicago next month. I will find another mode of transportation. I will not drive to Chicago next month. I will not drive to Chicago next month......

Bridges and airports

This really should be typed in yellow. I am a coward when it comes to bridges and airports. I am going to confront both tomorrow morning on my way to Toronto. I am fine being in an airport; I just don't want to drive into or out of them. I can't tell you why. Perhaps this started when the airliner crashed on the freeway here years ago. Bridges have terrified me since I was a child. I have convinced myself that they won't fall, but I can't seem to convince myself that I won't fall off of them. Michigan gets icy during the winter, so the concept of sliding off a driving surface is not alien to me.

I am not flying tomorrow. I am picking up my current romantic interest from the airport in Toronto after I am tired and wired from driving about 6 hours. Don't ask why I agreed to do that. He seems to sweet talk me into things. Works for me, generally.

I will get up early, pack up everything including the hounds, and drive to the doggy camp, an hour away. The standard beagles will stay there with my friends while I go visit with my legal beagle. Another hour, and I will be at that same bridge I wrote about before. I am hoping that familiarity will not breed contempt. (The bridge, that is, not the romantic interest.) I am going to try to enjoy the view while I am stuck in morning rush traffic on a huge, long, bouncing bridge that is high enough not to need a drawbridge and is overrun by gigantic, heavy trucks.

Surely immigration won't want to fondle my lingerie again. They didn't check anything, not even my ID, when I drove to Toronto before but they carefully inspected my luggage both ways when I flew to Winnipeg. Maybe Winnipeg is a hotbed for smuggling. Who knew?

My Pretravel Freak Dance is already in high mode, so I figured I would write early while maybe I can still spell a word or two. Feel sorry for my new class today. I will try to teach them the first session in a fundamental computer class. This will be a room of senior citizens who have probably never touched a keyboard before and will be intimidated until I can make them comfortable with the scary equipment. A wild-eyed, jiggering, stuttering instructor who can't sit still, remember any terms such as "operating system," or get two eyes tracking in the same direction won't instill confidence in the group. I will need to focus, be calm, and exude an aura of comfort. I can do this. AIEEEE!!!

Going to Dee-troit City

Sure, I love to drive. That must be why I accepted invitations to both my grandniece's 10th birthday party and a former co-worker's grandchild's christening party for today. The grandniece is one of the ones who come here to visit me with her older sister. I figured I should be on time, since I had to leave in just over an hour after I got there. Unfortunately, it also takes me just over an hour to get there. They live out in the country down some nasty dirty roads where it is really quiet and peaceful and dusty.

So I arrived at 2:10 for a 2:00 party. Too bad the mother wasn't there. She was out picking up the older girl and getting the food. She got back about 3:00, and I had to leave at 3:15. I actually stayed until 3:20 so I could eat a piece of chicken before I hit the road for Detroit. Their house is about 45-50 miles north of where I had to go for the other party. I hugged and kissed all the relatives, apologized, and left. I anticipated a drive of an hour and 45 minutes.

I do not like driving into the city of Detroit. The rules are different there. I finally understand why people from the city wander all over the freeways. Their streets have no dividing lines on the lanes. The streets vary from 1-3 lanes, but no lines. So people just drive wherever they feel like going. There are no left turn lanes. You have to watch to see if anyone is going to turn left at the light. If they are, you have to either wait for them or wander over to the right lane. Or lanes. Whatever. I am used to Michigan lefts. They involved a psychedelic creation on boulevards of going a block or two past the corner and then turning left in a turnaround lane. Don't ask. It is confusing and annoying, but I am used to it. Detroit doesn't have them, or at least I haven't seen any.

The party was held at an outdoor area in a private college. Normally this wouldn't happen in Michigan in September, but we didn't get summer until two weeks ago, so it was gorgeous outside. I apologize to the people who have been having hurricane and tornado weather, but we will get our share of ugly weather soon enough and it will last about six months. The family is Filipino. The food was homemade and most excellent. I can make the rice noodle dish myself, but do not yet know the secret recipe for the meat-filled egg rolls. They are so good that I have seen vegetarians sneak them and drool. I enjoyed spending some time with former co-workers, some retired, some not. The baby is absolutely adorable.

The drive home was a little less harrowing. I found the freeway entrance without much fanfare, used all the lanes like a native Detroiter, and got home without incident. Whew. I guess I am now in shape for the drive to Toronto on Wednesday. Maybe.

Just Let Me Hit Him Once

What did I do for my birthday? I had asked my daughter to take me to a nightclub to hear music. I wanted to hear dance, techno, or house. Any combination would work for me. She was surprised, since I don't normally like crowds.

Two words. Ryder Cup. We had to scratch the plans, since the club she wanted to take me to is in Birmingham, MI, and was guaranteed to be overrun by Ryder Cup people. It's one of the hottest clubs in the area. Damn. I was really disappointed about it. Even though she knew someone who could get us right in without the cover or waiting, it would still be wall-to-wall people and she said we could go another time, unless I wanted to deal with that. Nope. Another time would be great.

She came over and did my hair for me. It is just past my shoulders now and she flipped it up. Then we went to the local drugstore. She made me buy some makeup products that I would not normally use, and she finished my makeup in the car. I must say, she did a good job. She said that with my weight loss, longer hair and current romantic interest, I look 10 years younger. That was gift enough for me!

We had dinner at her boyfriend's restaurant. I had some great seafood. I had mushrooms stuffed with crab, lobster chowder, and fettucine with lobster and shrimp. Yum. They also gave me a brownie with a candle in it, but I ate about 3 bites. I was stuffed. My daughter gave me my gift, and then we went to the closest mall to walk for an hour because I wanted to.

After that we went to a local casual bar. They have an upstairs deck outside. We met a friend of hers and her friend's mother. We had a great time, drinking and laughing and catching up on girl stuff. I hadn't seen the other mother in quite a while. Around 11:30 pm, the friend and her mother went home and we went downstairs to the regular bar because child's boyfriend was there already waiting for us. Daughter and I found a table and snagged it while her bf talked with some buddies at the bar.

This is where the problem came in. A young guy came up to us and asked if he could sit at our table while he made a phone call. My daughter looked down her nose and said, "Briefly." After a few minutes he tried to pick us up. My daughter is almost 25 and I am 55, and this kid is hitting on both of us. He was offering us drinks, food, whatever we wanted. It was funny for about 20 seconds. We told him that we were celebrating my birthday and that he should move along so child's bf could join us. He started to get mouthy and I called the bf over. They clashed horns for a minute or so, and the creep moved to the bar.

The bf told me that I looked beautiful and that his 21-year-old bartender thought I looked great and asked for my number. I thought that was a very sweet lie.

The hassle with the creep continued until the bar closed. The creep would come to the table, apologize, shake everyone's hand, and then stare at us from the bar. I offered to go hit him, but my daughter wouldn't allow me to do it. The manager came over, offered us drinks, apologized for the creep, and I asked him to let me hit the creep just once. He scurried off and brought our drinks.

I found the situation to be hilarious. Here was this little creep, hitting on a girl and her mother while the girl's boyfriend is obviously protecting both of us. I again offered to just hit him once, but was refused the pleasure. I guess my daughter won't want to take me out drinking again. But it sure wasn't boring. I had a great time. I crawled in bed just before the sun came up.

Dog Days

Every day in my house is a dog day. My schedule seems to run around them. They get up me between 8 and 9 every morning, hungry. They demand food at 3 pm, and if I am not here, Molly will go in a cupboard and drag out Tupperware and chew it up. Once she ate a candle because I was late for her dinner. They expect treats at 6 pm. You can set your clock by their eating habits. Beagles are bottom-feeding food sharks and will gladly eat until they explode, if allowed.

But today they might have to follow my schedule as I choose it. Today is my birthday and I will do what I want. I will be going with my daughter to her boyfriend's restaurant for dinner, where I will eat seafood until I explode (the beagles taught me well). I might even take along my new camera, if I figure out how to use it. Then we are going to a nightclub to listen to good, loud, dance music. Actually, it might be techno or house, but any of them will work for me. I will get home very late.

Of course, I will be up between 8 and 9 tomorrow morning, no matter what...

Update on Molly

Several people have asked me how Molly is doing, so here is an update. Molly has been fine since her attack and has not needed more medication. She appears to be her usual silly, suck-up self. This dog has never met a stranger. She has never attacked anything except the vacuum cleaner. The vacuum sucked up one of her play socks once, and she now tries to establish dominance. At least she doesn't mount the vacuum cleaner like she does poor Baby. But Baby is a good little beagle who knows her place and takes it like a man. (Baby's real name is Rosie, but that is another story.)

I cut walks for a few days to let her neck rest, and will be taking them out today. They wear harnesses, not choke chains, in deference to Molly's medical issue. I also take my cell phone when we walk, since I doubt I could carry her home while leading Baby on the leash if she has a problem when we are walking. 

Molly is fine for now. She may have another attack at any time, or never again. They don't happen often, but seeing her tremble and hold her head down and walk off kilter due to the pain is horrible. I know she is past it when her tail goes back up. Her tail is up, and we are going to hit the streets!

The Best Dog in the World

My older beagle, Molly, is 5. When she was 6 months old, she woke up from a nap on the couch just screeching. I ran in to see what was wrong, and she screamed for a few minutes, then calmed back down. That was her first "attack." I had no idea what it was, or what to do for her. I called the vet, and was told she probably had a nightmare.

Through the years she had more attacks, and they worsened. I was never able to catch one early enough to take her to the vet when it happened. I can't pick up a dog in that much misery. They will bite even their owners if the pain is bad enough. I would end up sitting on the floor, crooning to a terrified dog. She would drop her head, put her tail between her legs, shake constantly, hide under the bed, and crawl in and out of my lap. All I could do was pet her and tell her she is the best dog in the world until the attacks passed. They ranged from 20 minutes up to an hour. I supplied her regular vet with the symptoms several times, but she had no idea either.

Finally one Sunday night (do emergencies ever happen during the day, during the week?) about 10 pm she woke up crying. So I bundled her up immediately, threw both dogs in the car, and tried to get to the emergency vet office before she died. She was a mess in the car, breathing hard, clearly in distress. I was truly afraid she was dying, but had no idea from what.

The emergency vet told me he thought he knew what it was, so he took X-rays and found she has a damaged disk in her neck. While she was lying on her side on the floor, crying, and shaking, he was telling me what was wrong. I asked him to treat her first. He gave her a shot of Valium and some Robaxin, both muscle relaxants, and sent her home with me. At least he ruled out epilepsy or any neural damage. He said beagles are not stoic about pain.

Molly will usually tell me when she wants a Robaxin. She will see me walk by the counter where her pills are, and then she sits and wags her tail. I will give her one when that happens, and we haven't had an attack in over a year. I figure she knows when the pain starts.

Late last night, I let Baby out and went to look for Molly. She was under the dining room table. I ranright for her Rx, but it was too late. She had a full attack last night, lasting an hour and a half. That is with the Rx. The attacks are getting longer. I do not want to have to get bones in her spine fused. She really is the best dog in the world.

Modern Wisdom

Do not sneeze while wearing White Strips on your teeth.

 

 

Overdue Library Books

Normally I am a voracious reader. I read fiction only. I spent 17 years in college and university classes, sometimes one at a time. I have had my fill of textbooks. Now I want to be entertained.

I am pitifully behind in my reading. Right now I have 3 overdue books, which is unheard of for me. OK, one has to be paid for because Molly ate it while I ran out for an hour. I was packing, left the book next to the suitcase, and apparently there must have been some food on the book. I don't know what people do to library books, but I get nervous when my dogs grab the books from me and start sniffing them like they sniff when they track rabbits. I always take 4-5 books when I travel, even if I am only planning to be gone a few days. I learned to do that when stuck with an unplanned overnight in New York after having waited 6 hours in Puerto Rico for plane repairs on the way home from a cruise. My daughter was too young for me to go out in New York, so it was a reading evening, as was the airport time.

I have been known to sit down and read a whole book if it is good enough. My eyes don't get tired and I don't fall asleep. I enjoy books and see them as magic. Even my social butterfly child reads when she gets the chance. So what happened?

Journals happened to me. I have probably 30 I read here, and they are better than fiction. What was better than Peachy getting her brother's dogs from California, being driven to her by two other journalers? How about Lotzamoe's Pakistani's doing dances with each testicle being held up by tablespoons? Davida's recover from being shot and left for dead by her ex? Then there was the controversy over Dan Wheeler's cartoon strip, and I can't ever miss one of his strips. He also just spent a week in Amsterdam, and has wonderful stories about that. I read many others and revel in the emotions and knowledge I absorb.

So I end up not writing entries because I am so busy reading other entries. It's worth it.

Breathing Grasshopper

I am going to have to buy a butterfly net. No, not one big enough for me. Not even for the little girls who live next door and wake me up every morning at 8:10 am, Monday through Friday. One has to stand in her driveway, one right outside my bedroom window, and they have to screech at each other. I don't know why they have to be 100 feet apart every morning to yell at each other, but it is a given. 

I was sitting here at the computer doing a little research, and saw a leaf on my window ledge. Hmm, I thought, how is it staying attached? Are my windows really that dirty? I got up, walked over, and saw that the leaf had feet. It also had antennae. That put it in the bug category. Grasshopper, I figure. Not a stinger-bug. It is beautiful. It made a 180-degree turn, watching me back. Upon closer inspection (about 3 inches from my face), I saw it breathe.

Never before have I seen an insect breathe. I once watched a lightning bug flash away on my front screen door, and got a magnifying glass to get a most excellent light show, but I never saw one breathe before. It made it more alive to me. How can I kill bugs that breathe?

So from now on when I find hornets/wasps/bees making lazy circles in my living room, knowing that their intent is to insert a stinger into my flesh, I will have to do a capture and release. No more flyswatters.

I couldn't get the zoom to go any farther than 1.5, so my grasshopper is fuzzy, but the trees in my backyard are nice, aren't they? I put them in when I moved in this house. They were in gallon containers, brought from Grand Rapids, MI, given to me by my ex-husband's sister. When it's windy, the branches look like fingers playing a piano. I can watch them for hours.