Frightening

Hi Friends! Hope you're all well.

When I was 7 or 8 years old I read an article in the Readers Digest magazine my parents subscribed to. The article was written in the voice of another 7 or 8 year old. She was in  Czecholslovakia in the 1950's.

Her story begins with her being awakened in her bed in the wee hours of the morning by a deep rumble that shook her bed. 

I don't remember how she discovered that the rumble was not an earthquake but was actually a Soviet tank rolling down her street, but I remember her fear. 

I remember her fear when soldiers broke down the door to her home and dragged her father away.

I remember her fear and misery when as she talks about never seeing her father again. He disappeared along with the fathers, uncles, grandfathers of many of her friends.

I also remember the fear I experienced while reading her story and the relief I felt when my father reassured me that we live in America. 

"What happened to that little girl and her family will never happen to us."

Years and years later, when Donald Trump announced his candicacy for president, my father shared with me how frightening it was that a man of that temperment could be seriously considered for the highest office in our country.

Dad shared with me that this man had the same attributes as Hitler, Mussolini and other despicable men. Men who lacked character, compassion or simple humanity.

My dad passed away in 2018, at almost 90 years old. I miss him with all my heart but I can't tell you how relieved I am that he is not here today to witness our country so close to losing our way of life, our democracy; to witness how close we are to having tanks rumbling down our neighborhood streets to round up those of us who have declared outloud what we think of Trump and his minions.

The good news after today's Supreme Court decision on presidential immunity is that I have a terminal disease. I may not be here if the Cheeto Banditio wins the election. The bad news is that my grandchildren will inherit a world we never could imagine for ourselves.

I am afraid for them. I am afraid for women, for LGBTQ+ community, for minorities, for disabled, for the elderly, for the impoverished. 

I am afraid for the United States of America.

Rolling Stones

 The Rolling Stones have never been one of my favorites. I may be one of a dozen people in my age group that isn't fond of them, let-alone "in love' with them. I did like those striped trousers but the music was meh for the most part.

These past two days their hit song Time Is On My Side (no, it's not) is stuck in my head. Stuck in my head when I am not thinking about a dear, dear friend who is in surgery at this moment. 

He and I have been friends since I was 12, he was 14. He was also too cool for me when we were that age but I thought he looked like Dr. Kildare (Richard Chamberlain). 

As we matured (or so we thought) we begin going to parties together and eventually dating. He was my first real kiss, my first date, my first make-out partner! I went to his high school prom with him. 

He had a 1954 Ford that we would jam full of friends and sometimes drag race down El Camino Real in Santa Clara. The front bench seat of this peach of a car was not bolted down, so occasionally, it slipped a bit. One Friday evening we were headed to have pizza with friends; Mike and I and some friends in his car, the rest of the gang in Norv's car. 

At a red light, our friend drove up next to us, revving his engine. The light turned green,:we peeled out. We were far ahead of Norv's car when the light in front of us turned red. My friend slammed on his brakes. As we skidded to a stopped the bench seat slid out from under us. The three of us in the front seat were looking up, staring at our knees, when one of the guys in the back seat yelled, "I smell smoke!" 

Smoke was, indeed, rising from the back of the vehicle. It was a sight watching 8 crazy teenagers trying to squirm our way out of the vehicle. Oh yeah, the left hand door in the back didn't function so back-seaters had to scramble out of the right hand door. Bruising did, indeed, result.

After we all settled down and the adrenaline oozed away, Mike, my friend, discovered that he had left his emergency brake on when we were racing, hence, the smoke!

Did any of us morons call our folks for a ride home? Heck no. We pushed the bench seat back in place, piled back in and went for pizza and spent the evening harrassing the Norv that we beat him even with the brakes on. 

How are we all still alive?

Mike and I have been good friends for the last 61 years. We dated for a short time and then moved on to other people but stayed friends. 

The past two years we've both had health issues and talk quite often, not just about health problems. We just share life's experiences, thoughts and perceptions. His significant other died early this year leaving 16 years old twins in his care. Since her passing he has had several serious surgeries and complications from surgeries. 

He called on Sunday to tell me that he was back in the VA hospital with a serious infection from the last surgery. The doctors had also discovered he has cancer in his spine and it is not the primary cancer but they are not sure yet of original location. 

He called yesterday to say that he was going to have surgery on infected site but transferring hospitals first. 

This morning he called to say the doctor said that the surgery was needed asap; maybe this evening or tomorrow BUT that with everything else going on with Mike the possiblity of not making it through surgery was a real issue.

We spoke for only a minute or so because I was in doctor's office myself. I told him I would call as soon as I saw the doctor. 

Ten minutes later, about an hour ago, Mike called me back. He said the doctor went over the most recent test results and said emergency surgery was required "right now!" Just then my own doctor walked into the room.

We said, "I love you." He hung up.

I don't remember what my doctored said. I could only think of all the things I've always wanted to tell Mike. What a good friend he's been over the years. How brilliant a writer he is. How compassionate he is. That he still reminds me of Dr. Kildare. How I really loved that first kiss and the prom. 

Time is not on our side, people. Tell those you love, those you appreciate, those you respect how you feel. Tell the now. Don't wait until they're being wheeled in to surgery and might not be coming out.  

May (Maybe Yes and Maybe No)

I can't say enough about how awesome the doctors and pharmacists are at U C Davis. They must major in medicine but hold a minor in Listening Skills and Communication Arts.

If you need medical care, try to get a referral to U C Davis. The Critical Care Unit is in downtown Sacramento and only minutes from the airport. It's a two hour drive for us but the drive back usually includes a drive through Sacramanto Wildlife Refuge for some photography. 

Good medical care, eagles, owls, and a Costco ice cream sundae!  

It's a win/win trip! 

Speaking of photography, one of the Guy's photographs was chosen as the banner for the U. S. National Weather Service-Sacramento website for the month of April. 

Photo by Frank Tona (copyright)

 It was taken on a crazy weather day and evening. We were standing on the top of a nearby parking structure and the lightning was constant, the thunder was both rolling and rumbling. Scary and exciting!

Doctor and pharmacist are lowering the dosage of Ofev and sending a new perscription. I start it again next week. Wish me luck.

Lab Results

 Sometimes we are stuck in  dilemma, not knowing which unpleasant choice to make and something comes along and makes the choice for you.

The Hep panel results are in today and in just three months the new medication has flipped my liver test results from straight down the middle of normal to a crazy patch of highs and lows. 

Too late to call the pulmonologist today. Don't most doctors (and lawyers) take Friday afteroons off for a round of golf?

So I guess I'll find out Monday if I continue meds or not but in the meantime, I think I'll not take the pills, drink lots of water and go eat some spicy Mexican food and maybe some Indian cuisine! 

Still over-the-moon with joy for my son and his family and I know (cause I do my research) that I can get my liver back to normal in three weeks or so.

Yo Vivo!

Joy

 Yesterday was a pretty down-day for me. Those days come and they go. I practice being "up" but sometimes it's just too much to pretend!

Today, however, was a great day. A truly great day.

I talked to my youngest son. He just started his dream job, working for a large non-profit organiztion. For the first time in a long time the stress and worry was not in his voice. His voice was joyful! 

His position has an extraordinary amount responsibilty as have his jobs in the past but he made the observation that never once in any of the seemingly endless meetings the words "profit, bottomline, net gain" was ever uttered. 

This mother's spirit was filled with incredible peace hearing the joy in my son's voice.

Truly, a great day!

Apologies and Other Stuff

 Apologies to all my blog-friends. No good excuses for not keeping up to date except, well, shit happens and some shit doesn't happen. It seems like in our household we've got it all mixed up!

I do have good news about Lily, our little Chihuahua/Terrier cross. Ever since we've had her, her breath has been atrocious but we kind of figured it came with being an older dog! We've taken her to the vet several times (usually for foxtail removals) but none of the vets have ever told us she had issues with her teeth. She had that typical esophagus cough that Chihuahua's get but a little CBD calms her down and the cough goes away. 

A couple of months ago, she started sneezing and then she would shake her head violently. We took her in, thinking that maybe she had a foxtail up her nose. Nope! Our poor baby's teeth were so bad that she had a serious sinus infection with an accompanying fistula in her nasal cavity. Over $3000 later she is happy, acts like a puppy again, doesn't sneeze, cough or shake her head. AND her breath is sweet as a baby's!

She seems to be a whole new precious little dog. 

The not-so-good news that goes along with that is that the Guy and I have been putting money aside to help us update the house to prepare it for sale. We don't want to get into investments, we want to just pay as we go. 

We put a new roof on the house, installed a new HVAC. We demolished the tile and grout counters in kitchen and had quartz counters installed. We had just put away enough to update the guest bathroom when Rex, our Border Collie, got cancer. That surgery and care was over $3500. He is fully recovered and doing super fine, especially for an almost 17 year old dog. We waited a bit to do the bathroom and ended up doing a lot ourselves but we got it done...mostly!

So we had just saved were pretty close to enough to redo our own bathroom when Lily's surgery came up. So, I guess we will be waiting on the updating on that pretty ugly 1980's bathroom.

But, we have two healthy, happy pups and that's what matters.

On the personal side. A pharmacist at U C Davis helped me get a grant to pay the $3000/mo copay for Ofev for my Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. I've been on it for just over a month. Other than feeling like vomiting two-thirds of the day and night and having to stay within sprinting distance to a bathroom, I'm doing okay with it.

The ablation on my knee worked pretty well but I find myself off-balance quite a bit. I got a disabled parking placard and I use my dad's walker.  I feel old and tired. My energy level is damn low and honestly, I'm wrestling with whether i want to keep trying to thrive or just get some good books, go to bed and wait for the IPF to come get me. 

Basically I guess I'm grieving the loss of me. The active me I used to be. The me that could walk to my bedroom and back without having to sit down and catch my breath. I miss the me that could go out back and work in the yard and lose track of time because there was no pain to remind me how long it's been and I didn't have to rest for 10 minutes for every 5 minutes (if that) of work. 

When I was growing up anytime my mother caught me just sitting and reading a book, she would tell me, "I'm sure there is something in this house that needs cleaning before you can just sit and read." I haven't outgrown that voice in my head. When the Guy and I are working on a project, I feel so guilty that I have to go and sit for 20 minutes to catch my breath while he carries on without me.

He absolutely never makes me feel guilty. He wants me to rest but I am filled with guilt and shame that I'm so useless. 

Time to feed the pups and take some really icky pill! 

I miss you all.

Happy Holidays

 Hi all!

I hope your holiday season has been joyful, comfy and full of love.

The guy and I had a most wonderful Thanksgiving and Christmas. Totally chill and fun. 

If you're ever in the area of Corralitos, there is a really fun winery, El Vacquero. Friday nights there is live music and dancing from 6 to 9. The wine is excellent. You can bring in your own food or you can pick up some munchies at the various food trucks they have parked out front. 

I am looking forward to 2024 with every bone in my body. I have seen my therapist almost weekly since November 2022. She's helped me resolve some life-long issues, a couple of family issues and helping me with a Death With Dignity plan.

A clinical trial agency contacted me to see if I would participate in another IPF trial. After all the hoops and tests my pulmonary function did not make the cut. The  fibrosis is progressing. Sucks!

I think I've written about the pressure of trying to keep moving while in 9+level knee pain. I had a knee ablation which has helped a little but it's only been a month so maybe it will still improve. Hoping.

I had a dream the other night. It was weird and incredibly lucid. 

The pain in my knee, back and neck is off-the-charts, fatigue is my constant companion and I get short of breath just walking to check the mail or walking down the hall to my bedroom. 

In my dream, I was crawling on the floor and it seemed as if 3/4 of my soul, or conscience (or whatever you want to call the thinking-you) was out of my body and I was trying to kick my body away. I couldn't get away from my body and I was frustrated that it seemed to be clinging to me. I remember being very lucid and wanting to ditch my body so bad; angry that it wouldn't let go.

When I woke up my first thought was wondering if this dream is part of the process of dying. Processing how to move on without one's body.

I've had out-of-body experiences before. I've practiced astral projection off and on for years, but I've always known that I would be returning to my body. I've never not wanted to belong to my body. 

I guess it's back to my therapist after the first of the year!!! 

One step forward, two steps back.

Meet My Pretty Addiction

 Great Day!

I finished re-upholstering my antique rocking chair. I've only wanted to do it for about 20 years! Procrastination baby!!! One of my super powers!

Well, of course, the rocking chair is barely visible!
Just don't look at the bottom!

Two of my granddaughters brought the plate on the table from Italy for me. I love it but mostly I love that they know my style; Bright and Colorful!!!

I took a couple of other photos of some of my plant addiction today. I did dust the leaves today but do not look closely at the floor...dog hair!

Can you see my didgeridoo on the table? Part of the therapy 
for my lungs! Cool huh!

Meet ZZ on the table. I am in love with this plant. It has such beautiful branches and glossy leaves. The fern (Herna-Ferna) is lower right. She's growing so fast I'm going to have to build her a room of her own!

The top of brick half-wall is filled with Pothos. I may have more Pothos than anyone in the world (just ask The Guy). I have several of my mother's and many, many rooted cuttings. 

Don't tell me I didn't warn you about the overabundance of Pothos. They're everywhere!

Speaking of overabundance; the Purple Heart Wandering Tradescantia is trying to take over the house. 

Several times a month I need to take cuttings of the wandering purple heart and root them in the kitchen. While the cuttings are rooting, I have to take cuttings from them. This photo does not do it justice though. It really is a deep, deep purple!

As I look at these photos I wonder why I took them without picking up the clutter. 

Oh, I know, the clutter is still there because I can always put stuff away tomorrow! Isn't that what tomorrows are for?

More plants? Hell yeah.

Kitchen, family room, bathrooms and entry. Still need to find a place for the Sansevieria I promised myself earlier this week.

Weekend is coming up...any plans?

Covid Coping

 A random comment popped up today on a post I made pre-Covid.. 

The post was right after I painted over some of my murals and painted the fireplace bricks. We were "neutralizing" the house. Life was extremely hectic; we were taking care of my parents as their health declined; Frank was still working. We needed our house to be less colorful, less jazzy, more peaceful, to help calm ourselves when returning from chaos.  

We were also decluttering and packing some items as we prepared to move out of state.

I posted several photos of the changes. The photo below is one corner of the family room. 

We were making progress! Then my parents passed and Covid hit. 

Isolation and grief reigned. Restaurants closed, no one was taking donations, no one buying off of Marketplace or Craigslist, no one visiting, everything on the news was just plain ugly...you know, you were there! 

What got you through Covid? 

Many humans self-medicate to get through trauma. Some smoke, some drink or take drugs, others just gaze out the window and drool (been there). 

My preferred self-prescribed remedy for stress: Adopting houseplants, lots and lots of houseplants. I have fur babies and photosynthesis babies!

I revisited the post from said random comment  Cue the laughter and humiliation as  I looked up at the corner as it is today. I iddendiately jumped up and removed a couple of the plants to clear the jungle a bit! I can't believe I've filled the corner to the brim! Then I shot the following photo!

Realization:  I haven't decluttered at all. I just got rid of stuff to make room for different (more) stuff!

Shame on me. 

I should go to Lowes and pickup more  boxes for packing and maybe more garbage bags for donations. Gotta get back in declutter and purge state.-of-mind.  Maybe tI'll ake a quick peek in the nursery department...just in case someone wants to come home with me! You know, as long as I'm there!

I just realized we don't have a Sansevieria!

How did you get through Covid? Wine? Road rage? Netflix? Maybe you didn't cope well and are reading this blog from your cell. Inquiring minds, you know!

Couch Advice

 Mabon Blessings! 

Straddling the line today, beware your footing!

The Guy and I were watching a couple of detective/mystery shows last night. It could be that I am clueless or just haven't been paying attention. I discovered how much The Guy talks to the characters. "Talks" meaning advises, berates and admonishes!

When the "good guy" warns another character to "stay here", my Guy rolls his eyes and warns Good-Guy that no one ever listens to "stay here"! If Good-Guy is instructing a child or teenager to "stay here", my guy shouts, "They're a kid, kids don't know how to "stay here"!

When Good-Guy agrees to meet under the bridge (alone) in the industrial area (or wharf) at midnight, my guy yells, "it's a set-up, geez were you born last night?" When Good-Guy gets shot, stabbed or beat-up, from across the room I hear, "Warned you, you idiot!"

Then there are the times Good-Guy ("or woman if you are one" Colin Hayes, Beautiful World) races to a warehouse where there are 17 known thugs with weapons, drugs and bad attitudes inside, (maybe a hostage or two). Good-Guy may or may not call for back-up but does he wait for back-up? Hell no, Good-Guy  races into building alone, maybe even limps into the warehouse due to injuries from the beating in the early hours under the bridge, probably bleeding from a gun shot to the shoulder or stab wound to the gut!

My Guy couch wisdom:

"Yeah, go in by your lone-self, you narcissistic fool."
"You're going to die, don't say I didn't warn you?"
"Ooh, your mama going to be soooo mad cuz you done left your brains at home...again."

Good-Guy with wire cutters and the blue-with-white-stripe-or-white-with-blue-stripe bomb about to go off in 12 seconds; building, train or bus full of people...

"Hungover huh? Should have gone home last night instead of drinking whiskey at that nasty strip joint!"

Or

"Cut the damn wire! You've read the scrip; it isn't going to blow!"

Good-Guys are not the only characters to receive couch wisdom, There is the occasional insomniac who decides that jogging in the wee hours of the day will help them clear their head...or lose it! My blog is rated PG, so I can't share with you what advice he has to say to the lone joggers, with ponytails and earbuds...

Mostly I just love it when my guy deeply sighs and wonders outloud, "Don't these fools ever watch tv?

Do you talk to your television? Know someone that does?

Remembering Your Lasts

 We document and/or celebrate all our "firsts"; first solid food, first steps, first day of school, first kiss. First everything!

Yesterday I tried to get out of my comfy chair and had to try twice; rocking forward, then pushing with hands. I walked down the hall and realized that I hold onto the wall to stabilize and balance myself. (Lord help me if I ever get pulled over and asked to walk a straight line!)

It made me think if I can remember the last time I just stood up from my chair; any chair. When did I last walk down the hall without leaning against the wall?

Then I tried to remember the last time I walked out to the car without using the side of car to assure myself I wouldn't trip or fall. 

When was the last time I walked out to the yard and just bent over to pull a weed instead of sitting on the ground? Hell, when was the last time I could just pop up off the ground.

This summer I discovered I can only swim 1 1/2 laps in the pool without turning  to float on my back to catch my breath. Last summer I was could easily swim 15 laps. I can't get out of pool on my own this year; I need a hand to help me step out.

Taking a shower wears me out! Don't even get me started on shaving my legs!

When the hell did I get old!!!!

My goal is to do some strength and endurance exercises...starting with lifting 2 lb weights 3 times...a week!!! 

Actually, besides trying to get some stamina back, my real goal is to pay attention to all the mundane things I do each and every day. I'll pay attention to putting socks on, cooking dinner, walking the 30 feet to retrieve the mail. 

I'll also cherish the precious events, every hug, every smile, every cup of coffee shared with a friend, every single "goodnight sweetheart, I love you."

Do you have a "lasts list?"

On a lighter note: The guy discovered a whole tract of Whovilles on the side of Mt. Shasta. He took a picture to prove that the Lemurians aren't the only beings residing on the mountain!

Diagnosis Anniversary...hell's bells

 Hi All,

Sorry for not keeping up with you all. I have been lurking though, not Walking-Dead kind of lurking! I promise not to bite or scratch! Sometimes I comment, but my depression is a bit escalated so I just think of a response or comment but find it's difficult to type it out while sucking on my thumb.

It's been a year since my original diagnosis of Pulmonary Fibrosis. My pulmonary function tests are pretty good, so I'm not in need of oxygen assistance yet. Yay.

The clinical trial almost killed me! Well, not really but sometimes I wished I was dead while on it. I made it through 8 months of the 9 month trial before having to drop out. The medication I was taking was not Perfinidone nor was it the placebo but they were testing a chemo-drug that had proven to delay progress of fibrosis in cancer patients so they were doing a "tolerance trial"! 

I tolerated the side effects pretty well for the first 4 months but each week the nausea, dizziness, physical and mental fatigue, headaches, joint and muscle pain got worse and worse until I just cried UNCLE! 

The trial people were super supportive! They were extremely understanding of my need to quit the trial. Since my bail from the trial I am feeling better, not good, just better.

The pulmonologists tell me I have to keep moving. Move, Move, Move! My ortho guy says my knee pain is due to bone-on-bone in my left knee and advises a total knee replacement. My pulmonologist will not sign the release for me to have the surgery, saying that the condition of my lungs will hinder my recovery yet he keeps telling me to move! The more my knee hurts, the harder it is to move but oh so easy to cry and want to punch walls and stupid people...sometimes even nice people!

But wait, there's more!!! Blood tests results show I'm positive for Lupus and Scleroderma but not showing enough of the physical markers. They will not make a firmative diagnosis but they are telling me they think the fibrosis is caused by an autoimmune disease...BUT there are, oh, about 5000 to 6000 autoimmune diseases and it can take 5 to 6 years to actually figure out which one it is! In the meantime, the average life expectancy after diagnosis with PF is about 3 to 5 years. I'm down one year, so who knows...maybe I'll email the Shadow. Word is the Shadow is in the know.

I see my primary physician tomorrow. During my last visit she suggested increasing my anti-depression med and I refused but this time I'm begging for it.

I also see my ortho doc tomorrow and am going to ask him about a knee ablation procedure. The steroid injection he gave me three months ago relieved the pain for about 3 days and, bam, the pain came back with a vengenance!

The therapist I've been seeing (psychologist not physical) has been a tremendous help with coming to terms with lots of life's stuff. She is an awesome therapist. I really have no idea where I'd be if it wasn't for her and the support of the Guy.

The Guy has truly stepped up and is my hero. 

All is not bad though! My grandson checks on us all the time, asks how I am doing, if there is anything he can do to help. He is my second hero. 

The Guy and I are in the mountains a couple of days a week searching for the next great photo. Alternative days he and his buddy are out hiking in the mountains photographing wildflowers, picas and marmots, bears and foxes, sunsets and rainbows.

When he is gone I paint, refinish furniture and swim. 

Together we visit with good friends and are still planning to relocate, probably to Ohio, but still not sure. 

Two of our granddaughters graduated from college this year. One with a teaching degree and the other one with a degree in structural engineering. One of our grandsons is headed to Australia for a month and another had his first equestrian show! Our 9-year-old greatgrandaughter is racing dragsters. She does the 1/8 mile in under 12 seconds and has a killer reaction time from what her pit crew say. The paint job on her dragster is a holy-moly look!

The Guy and I flew to Denver, visited with a granddaughter, then drove home. The drive was glorious. We visited Rocky Mountain National Park, drove through Vail Colorado while the aspens were strutting thier glorious stuff. 

I hope you are all doing well and staying well. I'll be checking in on you and if the increased meds work, my thumb will be out of my mouth long enough to comment on your wonderful blogs.