There comes a time in every dog's life when their human decides to go soul searching. This last weekend was my time. Mommie made lists. A lot of lists. When all was said and done, it ended up being six notebook pages, front and back, of pros, cons, and lists. (When I sniffed the kitchen trash this morning, I found her used up notebook underneath her first round of coffee grounds.) The best part of the weekend, for me, was when Mommie would tear out a page, crinkle it all up, and throw it ... until she opted for a trash bag instead of my retrieval efforts ... I smelled that bag in the trash too. <sigh> ... it was fun while it lasted.
Mommie has decided that it is in both of our best interests if we: continue growing our own food; continue to spearhead her physical therapy; grow our own herbs; not get cable tv during football season; stick to raising awareness for RSD and not focus on on raising money; create a fan page on Facebook for me; finish our book; take more short walks together; start looking for a new couch/sofa-surfboard; remove all mouse turds; and just remain the Dynamic Duo. I have no idea what any of this has to do with searching her soul, but it all sounds good to these pointy, floppy ears.
As she explained it, these things will make our lives cheaper and easier. Really Mommie, that's all you've got? Cheaper and easier? The word "elaborate" comes to mind here. And then she did just that (she's convinced that the only reason that she got a dog in the first place was so that she didn't look crazy when she talked to herself out loud). Ok, here's the breakdown:
She said that if we grow our own food and herbs, it will be cheaper than always having to go to the store and to the herbologist. As summer ends and the weather gets cooler and it becomes more difficult for her to get out of the house, it will make it easier and less stressful when she runs out of something. So we are going to build a make-shift greenhouse with all sorts of veggies and roots in it. This should go well ... oi vey!!
The whole physical therapy thing boils down to a swimsuit, or lack thereof. She was contemplating going back to the therapy pool at the hospital and then transferring over to the YMCA to continue PT on her own. The RSD in her right leg is causing the muscles to shorten and warm water therapy is the best when it comes to elongating those muscles, but that means that she would have to buy a swimsuit and that's not in our budget. I think it's because she thinks that no one wants to see her 43 year old, skinny butt in something as revealing as a swimsuit ... but I digress. So we will take more short walks around the block followed by me helping her with her stretches and more baths ... for her, not me!!
Next ... she already has a game plan in tact for football season, so there is no need to shovel out more dollars on cable tv. We do just fine with Hulu, Netflix, and the 5 local networks. Day games at Auntie ColoAngel's house, night games at the GingerBar, and "bad day" games at the Castle where Mommie's parents live. My Mommie is so smart ... she only goes where there's good food. I taught her that!!
Something that causes my Mommie a hell-a-ton of stress is having to ask for money ... for any reason. She swallows her pride often enough to ask her parents for help, but when it comes to raising money for a cause, she just can't do it without feeling like a "humiliated ass," as she calls it. Her line of thinking is that if she can't afford to donate, what gives her the right to ask for other human's hard earned cash ... answer: not a damn thing!! So she will continue to focus our efforts on raising awareness for RSD. We'll leave the fundraising to the rich people that can afford it!!
Mommie wants a new couch that also converts into a sofa surfboard. The couch that we have now is so comfy, I just don't understand why she wants a new one!! Oh wait ... never mind ... I do know why. The couch that we have now is a woven red fabric/mohair (my hair) blend. No matter how often Mommie vacuums it, it just takes one Happy Nappy from me to reupholster it. I can see how that would be nerve-racking for her. And we need to be kind to her nerves. Let the search begin!!
This morning, finally ... after weeks of procrastinating, Mommie created my Facebook Fan Page, Kiva's Korner. All for me!!! I get to tattle on her, make jokes about her, post pictures of myself, and maybe even learn to write my own meme's. This leads straight into the need to finish the book that Mommie and I are writing together. Hopefully we can make enough money with it to afford trips so that we can include "The Adventures Of..." to my page. Mommie wants to travel Route 66 with me ... just think of all of the stories that I could tell about that adventure!!
The last bit of soul searching that Mommie did was to realize that she can no longer ask a guy, any guy, to take us on in a relationship. She doesn't want to risk someone else caring about her and being forced to sit and watch and feel helpless when she has a flare or needs to recover. She sees the looks on their faces and she might as well have just asked them for money, because the "humiliated ass" feeling comes back and clobbers her over the head with a 2x4. It's not to fair to ask anyone to have to witness how pathetic she gets, and it's not fair to her to see them miserable because of her. So we will remain the Dynamic Duo with some stellar friends, an amazing family, and (Mommie says) batteries. (I don't get that last one, maybe you humans will.)
I have faith that Mommie and I will do what we need to do for us!! I have faith that I will back her up on her PT and protect her while she flares and recovers. I have faith that Mommie won't try to make me eat the veggies and herbs as we grow them (thank God). I have faith that we will find a new couch before winter hits. As much as I love the vacuum (no really, I do) I know that it hurts Mommie every time she has to drag it out and use it. Now, I'm gonna go search the world wide doggie web for meme's for my wall ... tee hee ... this is gonna be fun!! Peace out, humans!!
Raising Awareness for RSD (and Ziggi's)
The Power of Orange
Monday, August 13, 2012
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Just One More Burp
You know that kind of heartburn that you get that's not exactly in your stomach but hasn't quite made it up to your chest either? The kind that causes your neck and shoulders to stiffen up and the only ounce of relief that you get is when you burp? Yup, that's me today!! I've tried milk, lukewarm water, Pepto, and Tums. But if I could just get that one good, loud, juicy burp from the diaphragm, I know I'd feel better instantly. I've had a few baby burps that have helped a little, but if I could just get that one.....
Now don't start spewing the names of the medications that help you through your bouts with this, because it was about like pulling teeth to get me to take the Pepto, as well as the Tums. I ... don't ... do ... pills ... anymore!!! I even try to avoid Tylenol and Advil like the plague. Only as a last case scenario will you ever catch me poppin' a damn pill. 14 years of pills and booze have left me with a mild case of cirrhosis of the liver ... and that dang liver never lets me forget what I did to it. Talk about holding a grudge, sheesh!! You'd think that I'd have enough on my plate with the pain and recovery process, but nooooooooo!!!! Usually, the milk is the cure when I get these "attacks" but the acid from my belly is making everything taste sour. I had to have Houdini come over this morning to smell my jug of milk just to make sure that it was me and not spoiled cow juice. Yeah, um .... it's me!!
Dear Body,
I am truly sorry for all of the vile things that I did to you before I wised up, got sober, and started paying attention to you. The doctors are really trying their best with us and we need to keep fighting the pain, so you need to force this heartburn crap out into the light of day. Please body, just one more raunchy burp and I promise to shut up about it.
Very Truly Yours,
the Crazy Cripple
Meanwhile I'll keep the faith that it will get better. My tummy knows (cuz it can smell) that the chicken in the crockpot is done and awaiting to be made into soup and enchiladas. I have faith that just one more burp will cure me of the pressure in my chest so that I can finally take that first puff of k-spray and start working on the RSD pain. Kickoff is in 32 hours and I'll be damned if I'm gonna miss it!! Straighten up and fly right, bod!! C'mon now, work with me please!!
Now don't start spewing the names of the medications that help you through your bouts with this, because it was about like pulling teeth to get me to take the Pepto, as well as the Tums. I ... don't ... do ... pills ... anymore!!! I even try to avoid Tylenol and Advil like the plague. Only as a last case scenario will you ever catch me poppin' a damn pill. 14 years of pills and booze have left me with a mild case of cirrhosis of the liver ... and that dang liver never lets me forget what I did to it. Talk about holding a grudge, sheesh!! You'd think that I'd have enough on my plate with the pain and recovery process, but nooooooooo!!!! Usually, the milk is the cure when I get these "attacks" but the acid from my belly is making everything taste sour. I had to have Houdini come over this morning to smell my jug of milk just to make sure that it was me and not spoiled cow juice. Yeah, um .... it's me!!
Dear Body,
I am truly sorry for all of the vile things that I did to you before I wised up, got sober, and started paying attention to you. The doctors are really trying their best with us and we need to keep fighting the pain, so you need to force this heartburn crap out into the light of day. Please body, just one more raunchy burp and I promise to shut up about it.
Very Truly Yours,
the Crazy Cripple
Meanwhile I'll keep the faith that it will get better. My tummy knows (cuz it can smell) that the chicken in the crockpot is done and awaiting to be made into soup and enchiladas. I have faith that just one more burp will cure me of the pressure in my chest so that I can finally take that first puff of k-spray and start working on the RSD pain. Kickoff is in 32 hours and I'll be damned if I'm gonna miss it!! Straighten up and fly right, bod!! C'mon now, work with me please!!
Monday, August 6, 2012
Oh Ye of Little Faith
Last week I was, for lack of a better term, verbally assaulted via Facebook messaging. I was accused of not having RSD because of the fact that, lately, I have managed to stay pretty active. I was called an "f'ing liar," and "a hypocrite." Did I mention that this was from a fellow RSDer?? Yup!! It was!! And how did I react?? HAHA ... oh boy!!! <sigh> I prayed for her. Simple as that. And then I deleted her. Funny thing, she found me through my blog, sent me a friend request about a month ago, I accepted, she asked me for advice, I gave it willingly, and she tried to throw it back in my face. I gotta tell ya, after 21 years of dealing with the nay-sayers, the doubting Thomases, and the poo flingers, I've gotten pretty good at deflecting their crap. Yes, I get a little upset at first but then Rational Brain takes over and puts things into perspective for the rest of my personalities. And the first thing that Rational Brain said to the Roundtable was, "This girl was only diagnosed 18 months ago." 18 months into my RSD, I probably wouldn't have believed me either, but I would definitely have glommed on to any advice from veteran sufferers, if there were any veterans for me to glom on to 19-20 years ago. So I had to make my own path.
Yes, I try to dwell on the things that I can do and suck every bit of enjoyment out of them along the way ... because those are the brief and few and far between moments that get me through the conjoined bad days and pain spikes. But ... I had to learn how to do it, and it most certainly did not happen over night. Trial and Error and Time have been my greatest teachers. They are the ones that taught me how to be prepared, mentally and physically. They have also taught me how to manage, maintain, and recover. It takes me a week to prepare for a weekend and then it takes another week to fully recover. Let's drift back to the Spoon Theory, shall we?? (http://butyoudontlooksick.com/navigation/BYDLS-TheSpoonTheory.pdf) I hoard my spoons, even if I have to beg, borrow, and steal them from weeks in advance. I deplete my supply, every last one of them, for a day or 2, and then I crack jokes about myself from the confines of my sofa-surfboard while shedding tears, grimacing, and creating a new spoon mold and making metal out of mettle so that I can do it all over again in the future.
The thing is ... no one really sees me in my recovery process because I isolate. Another thing that Trial and Error and Time have taught me. Seeing the pathetic pity look on people's faces while I'm trying to fight to stay positive doesn't work for me. If I'm in recovery mode, I look pretty damn pathetic all on my own. Case in point, last week. After my reunion and Cruise Night (Friday and Saturday), I couldn't shower until Thursday. I didn't trust myself to step safely over the side of the tub. I lived on tv dinners, cereal, frozen burritos and shakes because I couldn't stand up long enough to cook ... or clean up the kitchen. I had both sides of my sink full of coffee cups, plates, bowls, and silverware because I couldn't even stand up long enough to load the dishwasher. My kitchen trash was overflowing because my legs couldn't carry me back to the alley to put it in the bin. I was lucky enough to be able to brush my teeth, make my bed, change my sweats, and get the dirty clothes in my hamper though. I had moments of malcontent, but I fought to stay positive ... and it worked!! Because this last weekend I was able to go with my ColoAngel and The GingerFam to watch the 1st Broncos scrimmage of the year ... and our boys look GOOOOOOOOD!!!!! And now I must recover ... again. I will tell you now that there was a lot of walking involved (and stairs) and I am definitely in some nasty pain today. But it was worth it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat!!
I have faith that the newbie RSDers will come around, in time, and want to take advantage of their good days too. I have faith that if they seek me out for advice on how to do that, I will give it, gladly. I have faith that I may not be able to shower until tomorrow, at the earliest, but I have the warmth of great memories to keep my stinky self company during my isolation ... and Facebook too!! And now I will get back to sofa-surfing and forging more spoons for my next round of activities ... whatever they may be!!
Yes, I try to dwell on the things that I can do and suck every bit of enjoyment out of them along the way ... because those are the brief and few and far between moments that get me through the conjoined bad days and pain spikes. But ... I had to learn how to do it, and it most certainly did not happen over night. Trial and Error and Time have been my greatest teachers. They are the ones that taught me how to be prepared, mentally and physically. They have also taught me how to manage, maintain, and recover. It takes me a week to prepare for a weekend and then it takes another week to fully recover. Let's drift back to the Spoon Theory, shall we?? (http://butyoudontlooksick.com/navigation/BYDLS-TheSpoonTheory.pdf) I hoard my spoons, even if I have to beg, borrow, and steal them from weeks in advance. I deplete my supply, every last one of them, for a day or 2, and then I crack jokes about myself from the confines of my sofa-surfboard while shedding tears, grimacing, and creating a new spoon mold and making metal out of mettle so that I can do it all over again in the future.
The thing is ... no one really sees me in my recovery process because I isolate. Another thing that Trial and Error and Time have taught me. Seeing the pathetic pity look on people's faces while I'm trying to fight to stay positive doesn't work for me. If I'm in recovery mode, I look pretty damn pathetic all on my own. Case in point, last week. After my reunion and Cruise Night (Friday and Saturday), I couldn't shower until Thursday. I didn't trust myself to step safely over the side of the tub. I lived on tv dinners, cereal, frozen burritos and shakes because I couldn't stand up long enough to cook ... or clean up the kitchen. I had both sides of my sink full of coffee cups, plates, bowls, and silverware because I couldn't even stand up long enough to load the dishwasher. My kitchen trash was overflowing because my legs couldn't carry me back to the alley to put it in the bin. I was lucky enough to be able to brush my teeth, make my bed, change my sweats, and get the dirty clothes in my hamper though. I had moments of malcontent, but I fought to stay positive ... and it worked!! Because this last weekend I was able to go with my ColoAngel and The GingerFam to watch the 1st Broncos scrimmage of the year ... and our boys look GOOOOOOOOD!!!!! And now I must recover ... again. I will tell you now that there was a lot of walking involved (and stairs) and I am definitely in some nasty pain today. But it was worth it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat!!
I have faith that the newbie RSDers will come around, in time, and want to take advantage of their good days too. I have faith that if they seek me out for advice on how to do that, I will give it, gladly. I have faith that I may not be able to shower until tomorrow, at the earliest, but I have the warmth of great memories to keep my stinky self company during my isolation ... and Facebook too!! And now I will get back to sofa-surfing and forging more spoons for my next round of activities ... whatever they may be!!
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
It Is What It Is
Well, I survived my Way Back Weekend. Not with flying colors, but I did survive. The pain, however, was brutal!! Last week, I had somehow managed to to trigger my sciatic and it was causing residual RSD pain and iciness in my leg. I had taken small, protective measures that I knew would get me through the weekend but what led up to the pain apex on Saturday was crippling and not entirely my own fault. I had spent time with some of my faves hanging out on the street corner, gawking at the sweet hot rods that were cruising Main Street. I got a visit from my folks and the Munchkins on that street corner (haha ... keep your jokes to yourself), and I got to hear a few tunes by my fave local band. But what ended my night early should have never happened. It is what it is and I can't apologize for it because I have no control over it. Not very often do I come across an individual whose mere presence affects my nerves and pain levels. I don't see them as "bad people" and I have no idea why they have this affect on me, but there it is. First of all, my hands start to go into tremors and then they close in on themselves and seize up ... still shaking and twitching. I have only noticed this happen with 2 different individuals over the last 3-4 years. But on Saturday night, while enjoying the band, I had stepped outside of the bar with my buddy, Bert, for some fresh air and a smoke (yes, I get the irony) and my weekend came to an abrupt halt. There was typical Longmont chaos at the foot of the stairs where some drunk chick had passed out and all of the intoxicated drama queens were hovered above her while they awaited the arrival of the ambulance. My buddy and I went and stood on the other side of the steps, away from the commotion. I was leaning against a handrail and had a potted tree on my right and Bert was on my left to protect me from the crowds walking into the building. From amid the chaos walked the latest nerve-jumper ... and she came to stand right in front of me, pinning me in my little protected corner. She stood less than a foot away from me and all I could smell was the alcohol oozing from her pores and riding on every breath. She tried to hug me and <ZING> my fingers began to twitch. I couldn't back away, I was trapped. I knew what would happen to my body next and I knew that I had to get out of there while I could still drive. I slid my skinny frame between her and the tree and when she tried to hug me again, I raised my hands to hold her off and my hands had already folded in on themselves. I never even felt it happen. I practically ran to the parking lot and somehow managed to unlock the Buttmobile and get in. Ah crap!! I had just left my best friend in the bar!! I kept thinking what a horrible friend I was as I tried to text her, using my knuckles, to tell her what happened. As I was about to tap "send," she called me. She was with her brother and he was taking her home. She has her own issues with the nerve jumper, I don't blame her for leaving either!!
I coped for as long as I could on Sunday and Monday, but I finally caved in yesterday and opted for a massage from my amazing new massage therapist whom I will nickname "Gem." I just love this girl!! Straight away, she went to work on my right hip and leg. Within minutes, her comment was, "No wonder your sciatic is acting up. It's pinched between the knots in your hip." Yes, knot(S) in my hip muscles (Luxor-something and something-else-I-can't-pronounce-Major). After about 20 minutes of hip work, I felt this rush of heat soar down the outside of my leg and into my ankle and foot. I was so stunned at the returned feeling that all I could say was, "Hello, Big Toe." Gem busted out laughing. 40 minutes on my hip and leg. 20 minutes on my neck and shoulders (because that's where my stress hides). And today my nerve pain is back down to my new "2"!!! However, my muscles feel like they've just endured a week of volleyball 2-a-days ... But ... I'll take it!!!
I really don't understand how an individual can affect my nervous system in this manner. It's not that I hate the people, it's just that they give me this uneasy feeling that, unfortunately, affects my health. I can't tell them that it's not personal, because it is my health, and to me, that is personal. So I will continue to remove myself from situations that cause me harm. RSD is a fickle bitch and pissing it off only hurts me!!!
It's sad that such a great weekend (pain and all) had to end like that, but at least it was bandaid-ripping quick. I had so much fun seeing the old faces, hanging out with the Good Folk, and seeing my Munchkins that I am able to get passed the rest!! I have faith that the sore muscles will heal and, now that my nerves have been eased, I also have faith that I can get back to what's left of my summer!! Maybe I'll even find a way to take a nice loooooong drive to see what I can put in the rear view mirror ... now that I can sit normally again.
I coped for as long as I could on Sunday and Monday, but I finally caved in yesterday and opted for a massage from my amazing new massage therapist whom I will nickname "Gem." I just love this girl!! Straight away, she went to work on my right hip and leg. Within minutes, her comment was, "No wonder your sciatic is acting up. It's pinched between the knots in your hip." Yes, knot(S) in my hip muscles (Luxor-something and something-else-I-can't-pronounce-Major). After about 20 minutes of hip work, I felt this rush of heat soar down the outside of my leg and into my ankle and foot. I was so stunned at the returned feeling that all I could say was, "Hello, Big Toe." Gem busted out laughing. 40 minutes on my hip and leg. 20 minutes on my neck and shoulders (because that's where my stress hides). And today my nerve pain is back down to my new "2"!!! However, my muscles feel like they've just endured a week of volleyball 2-a-days ... But ... I'll take it!!!
I really don't understand how an individual can affect my nervous system in this manner. It's not that I hate the people, it's just that they give me this uneasy feeling that, unfortunately, affects my health. I can't tell them that it's not personal, because it is my health, and to me, that is personal. So I will continue to remove myself from situations that cause me harm. RSD is a fickle bitch and pissing it off only hurts me!!!
It's sad that such a great weekend (pain and all) had to end like that, but at least it was bandaid-ripping quick. I had so much fun seeing the old faces, hanging out with the Good Folk, and seeing my Munchkins that I am able to get passed the rest!! I have faith that the sore muscles will heal and, now that my nerves have been eased, I also have faith that I can get back to what's left of my summer!! Maybe I'll even find a way to take a nice loooooong drive to see what I can put in the rear view mirror ... now that I can sit normally again.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Prepping for the Way Back Weekend
So I've been taking some flack (ok, a lot of flack) about the sparsity of my blogs this summer. In my defense, things have weird around here. While I was sick with bronchitis, we had this "monsoon" type season here in Colorado. The storms were blowing in and out of here like a 4 year old that just discovered the automatic doors at the grocery store. And speaking of insanely cute toddlers (like the segue?) the Munchkins have been here all month!! But this erratic weather caused a Vortex Flare in the lower half of my right leg. (Vortex Flare - when one centralized spot on an appendage goes into muscle spasm and feels like there's a black hole inside the bone of that appendage that is sucking everything into it with more power than a Dyson vacuum.) As my upper respiratory system began to heal, I realized that this "flare" in my leg was a little different this time. It seems that every few years my RSD likes to remind me of it's diabolical existence by taking my baseline up a notch. It happens. I have to accept it. I have to accommodate it. I don't, however, have to like it. So I called my doc and he upped my Ketamine nasal spray to a 4% solution. If you've been paying attention, you know how much I dislike how K makes me feel, but I love the relief that my body gets ... and now I have to take more of it. Watch me not do the Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy Dance. And did I mention that the Munchkins are still in town?? ;)
In the winter and spring I would launch and crawl out of bed and to the coffee pot, crack open my eyes, and write a blog. Nowadays it's roll over until gravity finds my feet, grab on to Kiva's collar to pull myself into a sitting position, prop my hands against the wall for balance and stand up ... ish. I'm not entirely sure that "up" is the appropriate word since I started resembling the old woman from Sleeping Beauty more than Frankenstein. But the Frankenstein Crawl still applies to how I manage to get to Bertha (my coffee pot). Then I have to sit ... and stretch ... and allow my mind time to focus itself away from this crazy leg pain. After I am finally a little more mobile, I have to go outside and water my veggies and fruits and flowers ... My new watermelon plant is looking fab, as is my new cucumber plant. I've already sampled from my red bell pepper plant and also my green bean plant. I'm a little disappointed in my tomato-growing skills though. The first to sprout had these funky brown spots on the bottoms of them, and just now I am starting to see 1 or 2 healthy ones turn red. I planted them in a terrible spot. They just aren't getting all of the sun that they need. But now I know better for next year, right??
Yesterday I treated myself to a Spa Day, of sorts. I went to the ColoAngel Spawn who chopped, come to find out, 4.5 inches off of my hair!! I absolutely love my new easy-do!! After that I met the Ginger Mama for mani/pedi's and some good laughs. It was either all of that or a massage, and given the weekend with which I am faced, my hair and nails won out. What's going on this weekend, you ask? Well let me tell you ... This afternoon my family is having our annual Fam Pics taken by Auntie Marna (that's what the Munchkins call her and I love it because it's not really her name!!) Tomorrow (Friday) is my "unofficial" 25th high school reunion. Yes, I am that old. And then on Saturday night it's the annual Cruise Night on Main Street. Way back when, when I was in high school, and way before that even, Main Street in Longmont was the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights. Some people would drag up and down the street for about 14 blocks, some would park their hot rods in the Big R parking lot with their hoods up, showing off their mad mechanic skills and motors, some guys would stand on street corners holding up hand made signs that said "Show Us Your Tits!!" to all of the females driving by. (Let's just leave that one alone, shall we?) Hell, there's even a family legend that says that, while in college, Dad (from Kansas) tracked Mom (from Longmont) down on Main Street during summer break. But about 15-20 years ago, the cops pulled the plug on it because the kids were getting more and more stupid ... and dangerous. So now we get 1 Saturday night a year to relive those old high school memories while dragging Main. And I'm pretty sure that the last time that my hair was this short, was when I actually was in high school. So I'm taking this Way Back Weekend to whole new level ... and fighting my pain singlehandedly!! Hopefully I will find many reasons to have a natural smile on my face, but I've got my happy/no-pain mask ready, just in case.
So please forgive my inconsistencies in my blogging ventures. I still have faith. I have faith and hope in abundance right now. I will get accustomed to my new "1" on the pain scale, I will see some fun ol' faces all weekend long, and I will give myself time to recover next week. This is my life and this is how I have to live it. Give and Take ... one spoon at a time!!
In the winter and spring I would launch and crawl out of bed and to the coffee pot, crack open my eyes, and write a blog. Nowadays it's roll over until gravity finds my feet, grab on to Kiva's collar to pull myself into a sitting position, prop my hands against the wall for balance and stand up ... ish. I'm not entirely sure that "up" is the appropriate word since I started resembling the old woman from Sleeping Beauty more than Frankenstein. But the Frankenstein Crawl still applies to how I manage to get to Bertha (my coffee pot). Then I have to sit ... and stretch ... and allow my mind time to focus itself away from this crazy leg pain. After I am finally a little more mobile, I have to go outside and water my veggies and fruits and flowers ... My new watermelon plant is looking fab, as is my new cucumber plant. I've already sampled from my red bell pepper plant and also my green bean plant. I'm a little disappointed in my tomato-growing skills though. The first to sprout had these funky brown spots on the bottoms of them, and just now I am starting to see 1 or 2 healthy ones turn red. I planted them in a terrible spot. They just aren't getting all of the sun that they need. But now I know better for next year, right??
Yesterday I treated myself to a Spa Day, of sorts. I went to the ColoAngel Spawn who chopped, come to find out, 4.5 inches off of my hair!! I absolutely love my new easy-do!! After that I met the Ginger Mama for mani/pedi's and some good laughs. It was either all of that or a massage, and given the weekend with which I am faced, my hair and nails won out. What's going on this weekend, you ask? Well let me tell you ... This afternoon my family is having our annual Fam Pics taken by Auntie Marna (that's what the Munchkins call her and I love it because it's not really her name!!) Tomorrow (Friday) is my "unofficial" 25th high school reunion. Yes, I am that old. And then on Saturday night it's the annual Cruise Night on Main Street. Way back when, when I was in high school, and way before that even, Main Street in Longmont was the place to be on Friday and Saturday nights. Some people would drag up and down the street for about 14 blocks, some would park their hot rods in the Big R parking lot with their hoods up, showing off their mad mechanic skills and motors, some guys would stand on street corners holding up hand made signs that said "Show Us Your Tits!!" to all of the females driving by. (Let's just leave that one alone, shall we?) Hell, there's even a family legend that says that, while in college, Dad (from Kansas) tracked Mom (from Longmont) down on Main Street during summer break. But about 15-20 years ago, the cops pulled the plug on it because the kids were getting more and more stupid ... and dangerous. So now we get 1 Saturday night a year to relive those old high school memories while dragging Main. And I'm pretty sure that the last time that my hair was this short, was when I actually was in high school. So I'm taking this Way Back Weekend to whole new level ... and fighting my pain singlehandedly!! Hopefully I will find many reasons to have a natural smile on my face, but I've got my happy/no-pain mask ready, just in case.
So please forgive my inconsistencies in my blogging ventures. I still have faith. I have faith and hope in abundance right now. I will get accustomed to my new "1" on the pain scale, I will see some fun ol' faces all weekend long, and I will give myself time to recover next week. This is my life and this is how I have to live it. Give and Take ... one spoon at a time!!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Girl Meets Girl
I will never understand the humans. They come in all shapes and sizes and some of them make absolutely no sense when they open their mouths. Last night, while I was chillin with my Mommie who was in spoon-recovery mode from the zoo, Mommie's Mommie brought over dinner and also brought this small blonde human with her. I had heard about this Girl Munchkin, I had seen pictures, and I knew her scent immediately. It was Mommie's niece, my female human cousin. All she wanted to do was pet me ... and see all of the rooms in our tiny house. I was not amused, but I was polite-ish. I knew that Mommie's RSD pain was up a little bit, so I tried to not cause her any more stress ... I think deserve an Academy Award for my portrayal of a dog that doesn't mind mini-people.
I have to admit though, she is cute. Every time my Mommie stroked my head and said, "good girl, punkin," the tiny human repeated the action and the words. She also seemed very concerned about where my Mommie and I took our Happy Nappies and then she asked if she could come back and take a Happy Nappy with us some day. "Hey kid, this is my Mommie! Back the truck up!" I hear that there's another tiny human that I have to meet as well. The boy. As long as I have someone to love on me too, I'll do my best to not get snippy. Mommie seemed to have her hands full with the girl and me, so she may need to recruit help when they add the other one.
It's not that I don't like kids, because I do, but they are loud and squealy and I've been hurt by them in the past, before I came to live with my Mommie. I'm just leery of them, is all. I don't want my tail and ears pulled again. I don't want to be hit again. But I got over my fear of older men in baseball hats, so I can overcome this fear too ... with Mommie's help, of course.
I have faith that I will be forced to deal with these miniature humans again again over the course of my life. I have faith that, some day, I will come to love them as much as my Mommie does ... maybe when they're normal-sized. I have faith that I will teach them how to play Marathon Ball and Tug. And I have faith that I will always be my Mommie's girl and I know that she would never let anything bad happen to me. After all, I got chicken last night after they left!! If Mommie's gonna give me the good stuff every time I have to see the Munchkins, I may grow to love them by tomorrow!!
I have to admit though, she is cute. Every time my Mommie stroked my head and said, "good girl, punkin," the tiny human repeated the action and the words. She also seemed very concerned about where my Mommie and I took our Happy Nappies and then she asked if she could come back and take a Happy Nappy with us some day. "Hey kid, this is my Mommie! Back the truck up!" I hear that there's another tiny human that I have to meet as well. The boy. As long as I have someone to love on me too, I'll do my best to not get snippy. Mommie seemed to have her hands full with the girl and me, so she may need to recruit help when they add the other one.
It's not that I don't like kids, because I do, but they are loud and squealy and I've been hurt by them in the past, before I came to live with my Mommie. I'm just leery of them, is all. I don't want my tail and ears pulled again. I don't want to be hit again. But I got over my fear of older men in baseball hats, so I can overcome this fear too ... with Mommie's help, of course.
I have faith that I will be forced to deal with these miniature humans again again over the course of my life. I have faith that, some day, I will come to love them as much as my Mommie does ... maybe when they're normal-sized. I have faith that I will teach them how to play Marathon Ball and Tug. And I have faith that I will always be my Mommie's girl and I know that she would never let anything bad happen to me. After all, I got chicken last night after they left!! If Mommie's gonna give me the good stuff every time I have to see the Munchkins, I may grow to love them by tomorrow!!
Monday, July 9, 2012
Reporting Live from the Doghouse
When her eyes are open, she's awake, right? At least that's what my keen canine senses told me this morning. How was I supposed to know that she wanted to try to sleep in? She's almost not sick anymore and I thought we were back to life as usual. If you haven't figured it out by now, this is Kiva. I am writing today from the doghouse as punishment for whining in my Mommie's face at 4:30 this morning to tell her to get up. She thought it was a potty emergency, so when she opened the back door for me and I didn't go outside but turned around and followed her back into the house, she gave me "the look" and I knew I was in trouble.
Let's backtrack a few days, shall we? Mommie's Munchkins are in town. Those amazing little 2-year-olds that rock her world. They hung out quite a bit last week and Mommie was loving every minute of it. But she has the hardest time managing her spoons appropriately when she has to get 6 months worth of cuddles, kisses, and face time in before they disappear into Kansas-land again. Not to mention the fact they came to Colorado complete with sniffles, sneezes and laryngitis ... and my Mommie blatantly disregarded it. With it being summer, I totally get how everyone thought that the kids just had allergies. They had the classic signs. <sigh> But alas, it was, in fact, summer colds. Now ... Pop Quiz: A "cold" to a Normie is ___________ to my Mommie. If you answered "Bronchitis," you get an A+ ... if you answered "Zombie Virus," you get an A-. Yes the coughs and hacks and wheezes that cause spasmodic body convulsions which insight pain flares are back. OH ... OH ... OH ... Squirrel ... AND ... the fires in Colorado are almost all contained!! Thanks, in part, to our summer monsoon weather that has replaced the oven in which we were all living. Whereas this is good for the firefighters, the lawns, the farmers, Mommie's gardens, the pads of my feet, and the humans that don't like the 90+ temps, this has been harsher than normal on my Mommie. She says that her RSD is morphing again. Just when she gets used to certain flares that arise at certain times throughout the seasons, the Skank rewrites the weather and the pains change ... and require getting used to all over again. Damn you RSD!! Leave my Mommie alone!!
I tried to be her nurse over the weekend. I growled at her when she did things that caused her to overexert herself ... like vacuuming, working in the gardens, standing up and cooking, making her bed, and showering. When she'd sit down I'd lay across her feet so that she couldn't get back up again. Uncle Houdini randomly appeared and disappeared to check on us, Mommie's Mommie brought over hamburgers and salads and juice and fudgecicles and a big bag full of medicines from the pharmacy. We have watched movies; caught up on our Hulu tv shows; played stupid FB games like Bingo, Slingo, some monkey game, and Solitaire; and Mommie even did a little reading. But RSD and "colds" don't go well together. There is way too much going on in her body for her mind to be idle. She needs to stay focused on something so that she can keep herself distracted from the pain as well as the added discomfort. The Vortex Flares that have been gracing her legs with their presence every afternoon seem to be the only thing that has successfully taken her mind off of her weighted chest, bouts of coughing and her fiery throat. I could be wrong, it's happened before, but I don't think that she likes feeling like this.
This morning, God bless her, my Mommie snapped. Her patience is shot. It was really only a matter of time. And since I'm the one that is with her 24/7, I'm the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. Maybe I should've just let her sleep in this morning. But her eyes were open almost all night long. I thought that she was ready to get up. Maybe if I'd have gone outside, even to just monitor the fence-line since I didn't have to do my business, I could have helped her fight it off a little while longer. I know that she is babysitting the Munchkins again tonight, so maybe I'll just leave her alone so that she has time to kick Coach Crankypants to the curb before she has to leave. Maybe I'll rebuild my fort with the sofa cushions so that she can have some "alone time." Maybe I'll go hang out on the back stoop and watch the birds and squirrels. Hey, I said "maybe"!!
I have faith that Mommie will feel better. I have faith that Coach Crankypants' appearance will be short lived. I have faith that I have done my best to try to help my Mommie and I know that she knows this. I love my Mommie but I don't like this look-alike ... at all!! I have faith that the snarkiness will continue, but this too shall pass. Even the Eternal Optimist needs Oscar the Grouch days. My Mommie will be back ... I just know it!!
Let's backtrack a few days, shall we? Mommie's Munchkins are in town. Those amazing little 2-year-olds that rock her world. They hung out quite a bit last week and Mommie was loving every minute of it. But she has the hardest time managing her spoons appropriately when she has to get 6 months worth of cuddles, kisses, and face time in before they disappear into Kansas-land again. Not to mention the fact they came to Colorado complete with sniffles, sneezes and laryngitis ... and my Mommie blatantly disregarded it. With it being summer, I totally get how everyone thought that the kids just had allergies. They had the classic signs. <sigh> But alas, it was, in fact, summer colds. Now ... Pop Quiz: A "cold" to a Normie is ___________ to my Mommie. If you answered "Bronchitis," you get an A+ ... if you answered "Zombie Virus," you get an A-. Yes the coughs and hacks and wheezes that cause spasmodic body convulsions which insight pain flares are back. OH ... OH ... OH ... Squirrel ... AND ... the fires in Colorado are almost all contained!! Thanks, in part, to our summer monsoon weather that has replaced the oven in which we were all living. Whereas this is good for the firefighters, the lawns, the farmers, Mommie's gardens, the pads of my feet, and the humans that don't like the 90+ temps, this has been harsher than normal on my Mommie. She says that her RSD is morphing again. Just when she gets used to certain flares that arise at certain times throughout the seasons, the Skank rewrites the weather and the pains change ... and require getting used to all over again. Damn you RSD!! Leave my Mommie alone!!
I tried to be her nurse over the weekend. I growled at her when she did things that caused her to overexert herself ... like vacuuming, working in the gardens, standing up and cooking, making her bed, and showering. When she'd sit down I'd lay across her feet so that she couldn't get back up again. Uncle Houdini randomly appeared and disappeared to check on us, Mommie's Mommie brought over hamburgers and salads and juice and fudgecicles and a big bag full of medicines from the pharmacy. We have watched movies; caught up on our Hulu tv shows; played stupid FB games like Bingo, Slingo, some monkey game, and Solitaire; and Mommie even did a little reading. But RSD and "colds" don't go well together. There is way too much going on in her body for her mind to be idle. She needs to stay focused on something so that she can keep herself distracted from the pain as well as the added discomfort. The Vortex Flares that have been gracing her legs with their presence every afternoon seem to be the only thing that has successfully taken her mind off of her weighted chest, bouts of coughing and her fiery throat. I could be wrong, it's happened before, but I don't think that she likes feeling like this.
This morning, God bless her, my Mommie snapped. Her patience is shot. It was really only a matter of time. And since I'm the one that is with her 24/7, I'm the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. Maybe I should've just let her sleep in this morning. But her eyes were open almost all night long. I thought that she was ready to get up. Maybe if I'd have gone outside, even to just monitor the fence-line since I didn't have to do my business, I could have helped her fight it off a little while longer. I know that she is babysitting the Munchkins again tonight, so maybe I'll just leave her alone so that she has time to kick Coach Crankypants to the curb before she has to leave. Maybe I'll rebuild my fort with the sofa cushions so that she can have some "alone time." Maybe I'll go hang out on the back stoop and watch the birds and squirrels. Hey, I said "maybe"!!
I have faith that Mommie will feel better. I have faith that Coach Crankypants' appearance will be short lived. I have faith that I have done my best to try to help my Mommie and I know that she knows this. I love my Mommie but I don't like this look-alike ... at all!! I have faith that the snarkiness will continue, but this too shall pass. Even the Eternal Optimist needs Oscar the Grouch days. My Mommie will be back ... I just know it!!
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