I finally picked up my new glasses on Tuesday! They were actually ready on the 14th, but no one called. As I said, this is a totally new prescription; usually my eyes change very little in two years, but in one year I've changed from a 4.25 to a 3.50, so I was worried that I wouldn't be able to see. But I can, quite well, which explains why I was having trouble seeing with the old ones; they were now overcompensating.

Tried the computer glasses out when I got home, and they were also a treat. Maybe I can now work on my web pages again.

Thursday was also a good day for James: stitches are out of his toe and he doesn't have to wear that plastic bag on his right leg any longer! This is great because he slipped on the damn thing a couple of days ago and now has a rainbow of bruises on his back because he did kind of a controlled slide to the bathroom floor. Unfortunately we had to call the firemen to get him back up.

We were able to go to Books-a-Million on Sunday (last time I got a bunch of them there, this time none), ate at Uncle Maddio's, and went to BJs for maple syrup and fruit cups.

The week also had its annoyances. I have been fruitlessly looking for a vet for Oliver, because he just doesn't act right. He's used to being here now and he should be more lively, but he isn't. Also, his droppings are very loose and wet, and it looks as if there's a lump behind his legs. I called every "avian vet" I could find on Google. One Google said was in the "Atlanta area" was over an hour's drive. Our own vet said to take him to Athens to the University vet clinic! The place I liked close by, near Douglasville, isn't taking new customers, and they sounded so nice. Riverview, down the road from us, has an avian vet again, but she was gone until the 31st.

I finally called the breeder back and they said they usually take their birds to For Pet's Sake, all the way in Decatur, but, if I wanted, I could take Oliver to see them, to see what they thought. So on Friday we drove out to Norcross to Fancy Feathers. One of the owners, Irene, looked at Oliver...and believes he might be an Olivia, and the lump is an unlaid egg. She gave us some coconut oil to give him, and told me to make sure to keep his bottom clean.

Giving him the coconut has almost restored the droppings. and the wet spots aren't as bad, but now he...or she...is getting fussy about his seed. Sigh.

I need to call Riverside eventually...

Labels: birds, books, food, health, injuries, shopping, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:21:00 PM

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Everything was going so well this week. I even ran out on my own on laundry day to get more Smart Balance and stop at Sprouts for Litehouse salad blend. Except the Publix on the East-West and the Sprouts across the street didn't have either of those products. I did find the Smart Balance at the Smyrna Publix; we always stock up when they're on BOGO.

Then on Wednesday James had an appointment with his rhematologist. He spoke frankly this time about all the pain he has been in and asked if there was some way it could be relieved without using opioids. Dr. Salazar decided to put him on a short course (two weeks) of Prednisone to see if relieving the inflammation helps. Then we went to the Sprouts at Heritage Pointe and they had the Litehouse we needed, too.

On the way back from taking his blood sugar, James stumbled on his slippers—he tends to roll on his right foot and he stepped wrong—and fell. He didn't hit his head, but he pulled something, and the usual way he gets up, by scooting to the stairs and then standing, he couldn't do. So we had to call the nice firemen at Station 30 again. He had no bruises we could see, but he was awake during most of the night with pain from the muscles he strained.

Ironically, after all that, he felt better in the morning, but I did the shopping on my own on Thursday.

On Friday, we made a decision: James needed some type of shoe to wear around the house; the slippers are just too soft. I tried to get him a soft shoe at Walmart, but for once a marked size 12 didn't fit him. He also wanted to look into those "step in" Skechers they advertise. So Friday afternoon we went to the Kennesaw store. We did find a pair of the step-in shoes, but also got a different kind, too, very light, but with a very firm sole. (The step ins, alas, don't work for James; his ankle joints are too deteriorated for him to point his toe like you need to do to step in.)

The surprising thing was that I bought shoes. Voluntarily. I not only bought shoes, but I bought women's shoes, which, except for the wedgies I bought for Sabra's wedding, are the first women's shoes I've bought in years; I've been buying boys' Reeboks, which have always been the same style as women's Reeboks (and $20 cheaper) and wide enough for my feet. I got two pairs of the same grey ombre shoes. I have not bought women's shoes that fit properly the moment I put them on since my Hush Puppies. The soles on my Reeboks were worn down anyway.

Sigh...except, getting used to the shoes, James fell walking into the kitchen. Mostly what was hurt was his pride, and he was able to scrunch to the door.

Saturday night, however, was fabulous. On Saturday, October 28, Neil Butler, the son of our good friends Ron and Lin, and his girlfriend Emilee Cox, joined hands in matrimony at a ceremony at Ivy Hall (formerly an old cotton mill which was in use until 1975). We had a blast. The music was old, from 40s swing all the way to modern rock (James and I even sorta danced; I got up and moved and we held hands and he rocked back and forth in the power chair), we stuffed ourselves on delicious food, and the company was outstanding: we were seated with Daniel and Clair Kiernan, Bill Ritch and Caran Wilbanks, Charles Rutledge, and Marilyn Teague. The latter, especially, we hadn't seen in ages, since she had some medical problems and had to have part of a leg amputated. We were happy to see her walking very well with a walker and prosthetic leg!

The only fly in the ointment was that the handicapped access for Ivy Hall was terrible. The venue is two levels, and the big open deck and the cocktail area (and the only bathrooms!) are on one level and the ballroom on the top level. The only way to get between these levels is a 45-degree angle road and a narrow "ramp." James got down there with the power chair set on "1" and moving very slow. When the ceremony and the appetizer course ended, we had to go back up to the top level via that steep road. James had power and made it up the hill with me spotting behind him, bent double in the chair. Poor Marilyn had to have both Charles and Robbie Hilliard help her up the hill. We were still having fun at nine o'clock, but had to leave early because James needed to urinate (the doctor said he should never "hold it") and there was no way he was going up and down that hill in the dark!

I can't believe this gorgeous venue can't afford to install a little lift (I've seen ones that look like a capsule and work like the lift on the Jupiter 2) for handicapped or temporarily incapacitated people in a corner somewhere. Either that or they need to rent a handicapped Porta Potty every time they have an event.

Labels: food, friends, health, injuries, shopping, sickness, weddings

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:37:00 PM

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Well, we had some Big Events this week (and none of them involved goddamn Urgent Care).

The Friends of the Library book sale was on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and it was the first time that I've gone that I did not go first thing on Friday morning. I still fret about James and I didn't feel like getting up early to boot, plus I know I'm not going to find the stuff on my want list at the sale (it has happened, but not often enough to be a pattern, like when I found Time Out for Happiness). I ended up going on Saturday instead, to kill a little over an hour before Jessie's birthday party at Mellow Mushroom. And, yes, I still did manage to find books, including Michener's Chesapeake and Alaska, a compendium of Agatha Christie's books, a book of British mystery short stories that includes one by the late Christopher Fowler, My American Revolution about the war in the Middle Colonies, and Ronald Kessler's The FBI. Also grabbed four books for James including a P.J. O'Rourke and a first edition Book of the Month club version of Victory Through Air Power (from 1942).

Ironically, James was going to go to his club meeting and only I was attending the birthday party, but he discovered the meeting was next week, so I followed him over there only to find out Jessie had a problem and could not attend her own party. There was a nice crowd anyway and we enjoyed ourselves.

Instead of the book sale on Friday James and I went to Home Depot, which was absolutely filled with Christmas trees! Doesn't anyone make a decent-looking tree under 7 1/2 feet tall? I simply cannot decorate one that big without getting on a stool! The small ones have mixed branches which are absolutely repulsive.

Anyway, we were at HD to get light bulbs. I've discovered I like their "bright white" bulbs (3000K), since they are brighter, but don't mess with my eyes. I got a box of four clear 60-watt equivalents and one of 100-watt equivalents. For the living room I bought two bulbs which you can adjust from "warm white" to "daylight." I have left them on "true white" for now and am crossing fingers they don't irritate my eyes.

We also went to Lowes just for the heck of it, and...more Christmas trees. Same heights, too.

Had lunch at Hibachi Grill—oh, God, are they now in this oversalted hell, too?—then finally returned the pair of slip-on shoes I got for James at Walmart and bought up sugar-free candy, and picked up some things we hadn't gotten at Lidl during the big shopping trip on Thursday.

On the way up the stairs with the groceries, I whacked my right elbow good on the woodwork of the stair rail. Oh, my God! I bang one of my elbows at least once a week and it's horrible and painful, but goes away in a minute. Today I had to run to the fridge and put ice on it for twenty minutes and it raised a big purple bruise and dear Lord it hurt! I was afraid I'd broken or chipped something. After the ice I wrapped it in an Ace bandage for the rest of the night, and by shower time it was fine.

All I could think of was: if my arm is broken, how will I cath James????

Something nice happened to a friend of mine on Saturday that I was very happy about. Rupert Holmes was signing his book Murder Your Employer at the Deptford, NJ, Barnes & Noble store. Our friend Emma goes there all the time! I was practically jumping up and down in the truck seat as we went to James' physiotherapy I was so excited as I texted Emma the news. She was able to go and have MYE and also her copy of his novel Swing autographed by Rupert, and he told me how nice it was to meet another "friend of WENN" (Remember WENN, that is).

We didn't go to the Apple Festival on Sunday because both of us got too little sleep and it's a 75 minute drive. I did manage to format a new piece of fanfic for upload on Thursday, though.

Something sad did happen on Sunday that was of little consequence, but was still a bummer. I signed up for Twitter a couple of years ago so I could read posts from a few people I liked, including Susan Branch, Sam Neill, J. Michael Straczynski, and Vincent D'Onofrio. The latter, especially, would post neat views from his apartment of the NYC skyline, or his unusual little "poems" which are by turns funny, inspirational, and sometimes downright melancholy. After Elon took over Twitter, D'Onofrio mentioned he might quit, and Sunday afternoon he just pulled the plug. It will be sad not waking up to a funny video (like the one he posted a couple of weeks ago of him and his daughter cleaning the carpet in his apartment!) or a pretty view or a poem).

Labels: books, Christmas, errands, food, friends, injuries, shopping, social media, writing

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:20:00 PM

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Some people have good weekends. We have weekends that are shit.

It started out as a dull week: the usual chores on Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday was physiotherapy for James. We had our usual doughnut on the way home, substituting for that night's dessert.

Thursday was shopping.

Anyway, Friday we went to Costco to stock up (Kleenex, toilet tissue, etc.). We had lunch at Dragon168. And James had his "two-weeks-after-the-infusion" blood test.

Kaiser called us at 11 p.m. This is always bad news. We didn't make it to the phone on time, so we ran to the test results online. Yes, it was. Not only was his iron still low, but his creatitine was 4.5! When we called Kaiser back, they had no idea why the person had called. Apparently the call was not logged properly.

Saturday morning things got worse. James had taken a little tumble in the kitchen last week, but he'd landed on his butt. His knee was hurting so bad he couldn't scoot to the stairs and we had to call the firemen again. Well, Saturday morning he went to sit on the stool we keep in the kitchen so he can sit when he cooks. He missed the chair and landed plunk on his right hip and thigh, and pushed against the pantry bifold doors so hard he pulled the nails half out of each hinge.

Although he was in pain, he was able to scootch himself to the stairs and stand up. He sat down and took some Tylenol, but the pain just remained the same all day. Every time he had to go to the bathroom he grunted in pain. He was in such bad shape I thought he'd say it was time to go to Urgent Care, but he didn't. Hoping some rest would help, we went to bed early, and, instead of his hobbling to the bathroom during the night, I had him call me and I cathed him instead. James goes four to six times during the night, and this night we did a four. I was bung-eyed in the morning, and he was no better, so we had breakfast and went to Urgent Care.

There was no one there on a Sunday, so we got right in and they took an X-ray. Thank goodness, he did not break anything, so they say, but he has badly aggravated his arthritis. They did not recommend pain medication, so he limped painfully home, up the stairs, and took a two-hour nap.

(TMI warning!) We had noticed for the last few days that while James' urine was clear, it was darker and had a peculiar odor; he thought it was like mushrooms, I thought Campbell's hearty beef stew. Well, when I cathed him from bed the first time Sunday night, it was dark. Very very dark. Then he said screw it and limped to the bathroom the next time. Not only dark, but opaque.

So guess what, back to Urgent Care Monday after breakfast. We didn't wait long and they basically took one look at his urine (even though the specimen was not dark) and gave him an IV antibiotic, then sent us home with three doses of Fosfomycin.

We are hoping this is why the creatitine was so high. Otherwise we are at a loss: he is urinating fine, more than his input, his weight is down...

Labels: chores, health, injuries, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 6:42:00 PM

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Face it, 2013 wasn't one of our sterling years. Oh, it had its positive points: we discovered the joys of Anachrocon, Timegate was nice, so was DragonCon, did see some nice things on vacation, and, best of all, summer was relatively cool. Except for the weekend of DragonCon. Of course.

But then there was the reorganization at work, having to pack up and move from one building to the other (twice!), getting the flu (on Valentines Day, nonetheless), a deluge during Atomicon, Schuyler's death, being sick on vacation and Thanksgiving, missing the only Thanskgivukkah for the next 7,000 years, and Willow being so sick, and, the most frightening thing, almost losing Juanita.

Needless to say, we were happy when Willow perked up, just about the time 2013 got its sorry ass out of the door. However, it seems to have paid a return visit this weekend.

Started out well enough: Friday was my compressed day off, and I used the afternoon to do errands: Stopped at Home Depot to get a new bottom pivot for the bifold door (left bifold door in spare room came off, we bought top pivot to fix it, turned out bottom pivot was broken as well), then drove into Buckhead to check on some clearance items, came back by Bed, Bath & Beyond to use two coupons, and stopped at Barnes & Noble to use another. At home I took as many of the Christmas items downstairs as possible, but there was still one box too large, one too heavy, and the tree. Then we had a yummy turkey dinner at the West Cobb Diner.

Saturday morning we slept in, then James replaced the bottom pivot and got the bifold door back in place before heading off to his club meeting. I worked on a project for my Lassie web site most of the afternoon. When James got home, we brought the last two Christmas boxes downstairs and put them all up in the closet, and then James tackled the very last chore, bringing the tree downstairs. Even after eight years of managing it, it's not his favorite task. It's six feet tall and awkward, and from the top of the stairs down to the landing, I held on to the top in hopes of helping him balance.

When he got to the landing he had to pivot 90 degrees and was trying to shift the tree so it didn't brush the wall. I saw the tree turn, then start to split in half...no problem...

...and James went with it.

In the old days in the movies a crisis situation always went in slow motion; today they do it as a series of freeze frames, each several frames ahead of the next. That's what I saw as he fell over backward, a series of freeze frames: him losing his balance, and tipping, and tipping, and finally the landing, and his head hitting the wall of the foyer, knocking the bench down two stairs and the tree skittering down the stairway to the ground floor. And then I screamed.

He let out a couple of unintelligible moans, then as I slid to my knees next to him he tried to get up saying he was okay and me telling him to lie flat until we found out if he had a back injury. I had him move his feet and his toes and his arms and his fingers, and when he had his breath back cognitive questions. And then because of his bad leg it took him a while to get up, and his back was in pretty bad shape, but he finally made his way upstairs to a massive dose of Aleve. Once a half hour I would ask him cognitive questions, and in the meantime I went downstairs to clean up the mess.

Whereupon I pulled all the lights off the tree, which made it fall apart, and I stomped on at least one part and tossed it all in the garage to go into the trash. Stupid tree. Always hated it anyway.

Needless to say, we ordered dinner in.

I spent the night crying. I didn't seem to be able to stop. James sat and hurt a lot, even after a hot shower, and we went to bed early, and I cried and he hurt, and eventually we fell asleep until the dog barked.

Sunday James stoked up on ibuprofin and naproxin. My eyes still hurt and I didn't particularly feel like going out, but groceries need to be bought no matter what, so I went to Publix for twofers and Kroger for the usual. I would have made it in record time if I hadn't had to wait for the nice Kroger employee to get me more yogurt from the back. Later I went to Belk on Dallas Highway because they had bedsheets on sale—$40 any size, 400 threadcount. Lucked out because the Kroger next door had gas for six cents a gallon less than the ones nearest our house. We had quick and easy Hormel beef tips over spaetzle for supper, and I made Willow some chicken breast, veggies, and brown rice. She wolfed it down and then promptly regurgitated it. Apparently she takes the metaphor "wolf down" seriously.

This morning Willow started to bark and James was able to move a bit better and take her out, but she kept barking. We weren't certain why, so got up. Since she didn't eat much yesterday, James warmed her up some food. She drank water, didn't want the food. In fact, she started the ceaseless pacing that marked the days before she had to go to the vet in December. I gave her a pain pill, but it didn't seem to help very much. So she paced, so I tried to feed her, so I took her out a couple of times. About noon I went to Costco to pick up more omeprazole (it's a good sale) and ended up finding a light jacket, which I've needed for several years now. All I had were two fleece ones.

Wil seemed to shake off her torpor at suppertime and was actively mooching food, but she couldn't have our portions (Italian sausage and scampi-flavored noodles) and didn't seem to be interested in either her chicken mix or the beef broth I put out. She did eat five small dog biscuits and some watermelon. Not sure what happened. All she's eaten is the grain-free dry food or the chicken mixture for weeks now. No leftovers of our food, no goodies besides plain dog biscuits, except for the one fortune cookie she had last night. She's been sleeping most of the evening while we watched a whiz-bang cliffhanger on Sleepy Hollow and Alexis finally coming to her senses on Castle.

Please send 2013 away! I'm ready for a new year.

Labels: birds, chores, conventions, dogs, events, food, injuries, pets, shopping, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:13:00 PM

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