My last post sounded hopeful.

And indeed sometimes it was hopeful. At the beginning of February, James was transferred to a different room, almost plush, at Emory Decatur. The surgeon and the attending doctor said his wound was in good shape for what it was, and wanted to get him up and moving as soon as possible. In fact, they said it was essential that he get on his feet as soon as possible. However, his left arm never recovered from whatever happened to it, they never put much effort into finding out what happened to it, and it was always an afterthought. Day after day, week after week, in three different places, we had to remind every new nurse, new tech, new doctor that the arm didn't work, that he couldn't grab with it. And getting up and getting moving seemed impossible without the use of two good hands. PT never came around as much as they said they would, although I tried to do exercises with him every day. The PT techs did sit him up again one day.

To cheer him up I bought him a little stuffed dog at Kroger, a brown Valentine dog with a heart on his flank and a red patch over its right eye. I told James it was to keep him company when I wasn't there. He named it Rocky and he kept it by his side.

On February 4, he was transferred to Long Term Acute Care (LTAC), just down the street a couple of miles from the hospital. He had dialysis three days a week and I couldn't be in the room during it, so we had to work my visits around that. He was supposed to have PT three times a week, but he was lucky if he had it once. I tried to keep up doing my own with him: squeezing a ball with his good right hand, pulling on a resistance band with both arms. and his moving his legs with my help (he has boots on because he already had developed pressure sores on his heels). We watched the Puppy Bowl and we celebrated Valentine's Day; I brought him a stuffed balloon dog and a stuffed Stitch.

They messed up his dialysis and weren't taking enough fluid and he began accumulating fluid, even in his legs! His legs had never, ever looked that bad, and because they wouldn't let me put his compression socks on him, the socks the Kaiser wound clinic said he had to wear all the time, they were covered in wounds, and swollen. On the 20th they had to transfer him to St. Joseph's Hospital and he had to go to the ICU because of the fluid retention.

They put him on super dialysis (real dialysis three days a week, and then two days of just sucking off fluid). His heart problems went away, but his blood pressure problems (suddenly it was too low) persisted. Once they did this, his poor arms and legs turned to sticks. His muscle tone was completely gone, and, again, only PT once a week. I would run him through the exercises I had for him, but it wasn't enough. A couple of times they sat him up, and they tried to work with his left hand. The left arm had quit trembling as much, but he still couldn't close his hand at all. He said it felt like he was making the clenching move, but his hand couldn't even make a "C."

One day we watched Star Wars films all day. Other days we stuck to a couple of channels. I never knew James liked the series 9-1-1 (but it makes sense because he likes Emergency reruns) or The Rookie. Some days I would pull out his tablet and let him watch Battlebots, but he still couldn't do anything on the tablet himself, and usually when I did pull out the tablet suddenly doctors or nurses would show up. And he had the wound cleaned twice a day.

He returned to LTAC on March 10. He still had a room on the church parking lot side of the building so I could see my car from the street and he had a nice view of the sunrise every morning. (You parked at the church lot during the week and then on the parking deck on weekends and they validated your ticket.) I had to miss a day two days later because I missed taking my heart pill; it fell out of my hand the night before and I didn't notice. For some reason the TV in James' new room didsn't get USA or WeTV (although the TV in the other room did; heck, his TV was broken when we got into the room and I had to beg to get him a new one), so he was denied the solace of 9-1-1 and his other WeTV favorites. Tried to continue with the exercises back at LTAC, but James seemed more and more weary as the days went on.

It was only late in this LTAC state that I worked out a better way to get home. I had been going through side streets, past Clifton Road and CDC (honking in support of the protestors) and through Buckhead to fight my way through Cobb County traffic. I finally realized that going through I-20 was actually faster. So I could leave later and spend more time with James, which was better, but he seemed to be in more pain than he'd been in in the past three months.

During the last week we were constantly told James was ready to go to rehab. It was about time, but I was really burned up about the mistake they had made with his dialysis. They had had it arranged that he could have gone to rehab a month ago, and then, because they didn't take enough fluid off, he had the heart problem and cough from fluid retention and had to go back to the hospital to have the fluid sucked off all at once, which really weakened him. He was going into rehab with less strength than a month ago; he was even regressing in feeding himself. The only thing I had finally worked out was a way for us to call each other, since he couldn't use both hands on his phone. I unlocked his screen and then, after I called him with a three-ring signal, he could call me back by saying, "Okay Google, call Linda Young on speakerphone" and we could talk without going through a nurse as an intermediary.

The last few days at LTAC he slept a lot.

He was transferred to "rehab," and I use the word loosely, on April 1, which should have been a harbinger. I want to say many people there were super nice. He did get PT every day and they worked him good, and were very gentle at the same time. They wanted to get him up and going. Most of the nurses were nice. No one was ever nasty. Not the social worker, or the head of PT, or even the one doctor I saw. But the place was horrible. It was noisy and awful and the window A/C (it was like a motel) was loud and instead of in-wall oxygen he had to have an oxygen pump. When you called for a nurse it seemed like the took hours to come. If they changed his meds, it had to come from a pharmacy offsite and took half a day, which meant that at least twice he ended up all day in pain. The cable channels were even worse than at LTAC. He couldn't even watch a news station or Food Network.

The worst part was that at the hospital they brought him down to dialysis in his bed. At LTAC the dialysis came to him.

At "Rehab" they put him IN A SLING so all the weight was on his wound and then lifted him into a hard chair which he had to sit in for three hours. And the sling for coming back. He would have a pain level of three before the sling and a pain level of 10 once they dumped him in the chair. And no one had ordered pain meds for this.

He went from weak to worse in just seven damn days.

Monday the seventh I was frantic. I'd woken up feeling something was wrong: James hadn't called the previous night (the nurse at the 3rd floor desk told me he was asleep) and never called that morning like he always did. A few days earlier he had called me from when I got up all through breakfast and even during my commute because he said he missed me so much. The doctor had come on Sunday and said he was "okay," but he never looked at the wound, just at photos the wound nurse had taken. The wound nurse was nice and very gentle, but I noticed that, even before he left LTAC, when they cleaned the wound, I could smell it. From when they first debrided him to when he got back to LTAC the second time, I could never smell the wound. For the last two weeks I could, and here at "Rehab" the smell was obvious from when you walked into the room! But no one ever said anything. Anything.

Anyway, he was in pain all day Monday. They told me he was having a "reaction" to the pain medications previously prescribed, and they had ordered new ones, but, of course, it had to come from the pharmacy so he had to wait. They gave him Tylenol. They sympathized with me. The head nurse said she had put a rush on the new pain meds. I went to talk with the social worker. I said something was wrong, he was getting incoherent again. I was told it was the pain. I tried shifting him multiple times; he'd lost so much weight I could practically turn him over myself. There was no position where he didn't hurt.

Then at five o'clock they turned up with that damn sling again. He was screaming by the time they put him in the chair. I couldn't stay with him. They promised me he'd get pain meds. He told me to go home. I went home. I couldn't eat. I cried.

At 9:30 p.m. on April 7 they told me his blood pressure was too low for him to have dialysis at the rehab facility. They were going to take him to St. Joseph's, minutes away, for the dialysis, which he needed to have because he was accumulating fluid, then bring him back. I asked if I should go to the hospital, and they said no, he would be at the hospital just for dialysis and be coming back. They said they'd see me in the morning.

They didn't. And if I never see that place again it will be too soon.

Instead I got a call from St. Joseph's. They said they hadn't been able to give him dialysis; his blood pressure was too low. They were transferring him to ICU. They would call me back. I waited. The doctor called me back about a half hour later. He said James was in tremendous pain, sort of lucid, as he knew who he was and who I was and that he was in the hospital, but that was about it. And that...

...in less than a half hour I was dressed, out of bed, and heading headlong to St. Joseph's. I called Alice on the way there because I needed to talk to someone, and James' sister Sherii.

The doctor was blunt. The wound was infected again, and it was enlarged. (It enlarged at Rehab and no one noticed???? The doctor said "everything was okay"!) If I wanted it treated, they'd have to take him to the operating room. He probably wouldn't survive the surgery. The only thing keeping him alive at that point was the two different blood pressure drugs keeping his BP up. He was moaning in pain and didn't even squeeze my hand when I talked to him.

On Sunday, when things had been starting to deteriorate, I had asked him again, did he want to go on pallative care? They had offered it several times. He could come home, have a home nurse, pain medication, see Tucker, which he kept desperately talking about. But he fixed his big blue eyes on me and said he wanted to keep trying to get well.

The PA told me the other recourse was to put him on "comfort care." They would give him morphine, and when that took effect they would stop the blood pressure meds.

It was all I could do, but I didn't do it alone. Alice had called Juanita, and Juanita had gotten out of her bed at 3 a.m. and driven to St. Joseph's to be with me. She was there when they administered the morphine, when they stopped the blood pressure meds, when the chaplain came by and prayed with us, as we sat and watched...as James stopped moaning and settled, as his blood pressure crept lower, as his heart stuttered and stopped and then started again (Dr. Shash did such a good job with the stents; his heart didn't want to give up) and stuttered again...and again...and then not again.

James died at 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday April 8.

Lots more has happened. People have propped me up. They've been here for me. They made me eat, hugged me, helped me with first steps, hugged me again. Jerry practically tuned up my poor car. I've been furious, I've been sad, I've been...here.

But the simple fact is that I've been a widow for two weeks, two days, 14 hours, and 21 minutes. And that nothing is going to change that fact. Tucker's daddy will never come home. Piper only knew him for one week, and then as a voice on the phone and a disembodied face on Alexa. There's no one to help, no one to tell silly jokes and show me Facebook videos, no warm body to snuggle up to at night and listen to breathe in the dead of night.

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:54:00 PM

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Labels: events, health, illness, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 5:02:00 PM

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Oliver, as tiny as he was, left a big gap in the household. Even as late as Thanksgiving, I was still having nightmares about him.
One day, checking out Pet Supplies Plus next to the DaVita Bellemeade facility, I heard a familiar sound. Having gone into the store once before, I thought they only sold dog and cat supplies, but when I walked to the very rear, there, up over my head, were two small cages with about ten budgies total in them.

Over the month of December, I was in there once, maybe twice a week. There was a yellow adult female and the rest appeared to be juveniles with baby stripes down to their ceres. There was one problem: I'm 5'2" and these budgies were literally over my head. I wanted to see them close up. But I had three I had my eye on even from my lowly viewpoint: a yellow and olive-green one with very dark wings, a lighter yellow and green one (marked sort of the way Bandit had been), and a blue one with a white face. I was avoiding the very last, because I didn't want a budgie that looked so much like Oliver. I was worried that my memories of Oliver would overwhelm the new bird.

Finally, today I walked into the store and told the friendly employee who greeted me about my problem. He got permission for me to stand on a store stool and there I could look all those cute little budgie faces in the eye. It was warm and I was wearing my sun hat, and the birds looked a bit askance at it, but none of them was  panicked. I talked to them awhile, and it turned out that the blue one with the white face was the most curious. I was nervous as I paid my bill up front, and talked to the little guy all the way home.

I had already scrubbed out the cage and under the cage two weeks earlier. I filled the food and water containers, and then took the little fellow out of his cardboard carry box. He actually sat in my hands for a few minutes and let me scratch him under the chin before I put him in the cage. And then, to start him out on the right foot, I put on some Christmas music for him.

I said nothing to James until he had gotten to the top of the stairs, then commented, "You might want to check out things to your left." He blinked and looked searchingly at the bookcase, the secretary, the bird cage...and then smiled and said, "Well, hi, there!" The bird blinked back.

I'd thought about names even before I went to the store. When I got him home, he felt brave enough to pipe up a succession of baby chirps, and I remembered Disney's Piper, the short about the sanderling chick who learns not to be afraid of the water. What better for this piping fledgling but Piper?

[Later: I'm bringing this one up right. He's already watched Law & Order, and Law & Order: Criminal Intent, and sang along to the theme music!]

Labels: birds, budgies

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 11:09:00 PM

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James had dialysis two days in a row this week. Since Christmas fell on a Wednesday this year, and they obviously didn't want to take the dialysis patients away from their own celebrations, they scheduled James for Monday and Tuesday dialysis. Monday went fine. I bought last minute foods at Kroger and made gravy with boneless pork ribs for Christmas Eve dinner. James watched Landman and Battlebots on his tablet.

Tuesday seemed to go as well. James had dialysis. I did some last-minute grocery shopping. We had spaghetti and pork ribs and watched The Homecoming and some of Midnight Mass.

We had plans with friends for Christmas which went down the drain on Wednesday morning. After making and eating breakfast and post gift opening, James suddenly got lightheaded and giddy. It happened twice. His blood pressure was something like 83 over 45. I looked it up and this often happens after consecutive dialysis sessions. So we rustled the emergency turkey out of the freezer, paired it with Yukon Gold potatoes, and a cucumber salad, and had a Christmas dinner on our own after giving James some salt and more liquid, and we both had a nap. Then we watched this year's Call the Midwife special, which was fabulous; there were several intertwined plotlines, including a tense but sweet incident involving Reggie, the young man with Down Syndrome.

Before bed, it was time for The House Without a Christmas Tree. A quiet ending to a quiet day.

Thursday we had a better day: James was feeling much better and we drove out to Books-a-Million and then had lunch at Brooklyn Joe's. We got a large pizza and once again brought half home. [Later: We had it as another meal several days later.] On the way home we stopped at Barnes & Noble.

Early Friday morning we got a call from DaVita. They were shortstaffed and couldn't accommodate James at Bellemeade that day. They had found a seat for James either that afternoon in Hiram at three or Saturday in Douglasville at 10:15. We chose Hiram even though it was a chilly, wet day because Douglasville was just too far to drive. However, getting there at three meant James wouldn't be out any earlier than 6:30. It's only fourteen miles, but it would be in the dark. I wasn't driving back that distance in the dark. Driving the two miles to the one near the house had been bad enough. So I basically packed up the laptop and planned to spend most of my time in the lobby waiting for James.

We got there and they were slammed. Two ambulances delivered patients that they weren't ready for yet. One of the ambulances would have to wait until 3:45 and they were expected in Douglasville at 4 p.m. and the driver was fit to be tied. Anyway, after 45 minutes they finally called James back.

I took the truck back down a mile and gassed up at Sam's Club. I have never seen that Sam's gas station when it wasn't five to eight cars deep at each pump! Today, only ones and twos--maybe the damp, chilly weather? Next I went to the next shopping center over, got some candy and a cool gift at Five Below, then went to Michael's.

If you're not looking for anything on clearance after Christmas, Michael's has to be the most depressing place on earth. I did get James a storage box. Went next door to PetsMart to get cheered up only to find all their budgies gone and one poor little lone conure left; I feel bad that I didn't stay longer and keep him company.

Finally I bit the bullet and went to Walmart because I was out of yogurt soon, then went back to DaVita. The Hiram location is in an area with all doctors' and dentists' offices (except for a gym) and parking was wide open.

The waiting area at the Hiram DaVita had a lot comfier chairs, at least (Bellemeade has nasty bucket chairs). They had a sofa, but there was no electrical plug at either end, and my laptop is old enough that the battery only lasts about an hour. There was a plug at a chair next to the Christmas tree, so I sat there. (No one turned on the Christmas tree, either, so I did that, too!)

James got home way after seven, at which time it was raining lightly. We stopped by Dragon 168 and had Chinese for dinner.

On Saturday we didn't do a blessed thing except I made a meat sauce so we could have spaghetti for dinner and Tucker got his two daily walks. Watched season one of Law & Order on Hulu (this began on December 16 and I've been looking forward to it, because as many times as I've seen the show on USA, WEtv, Pop, BBC America, and Sundance, I've never seen them in order and, indeed, have actually never seen some episodes at all, as first season proved), and then the final three episodes of Bull. I liked this series pretty well; it was enjoyable watching most of the characters grow and change, especially Chunk and Dani and Taylor. Jason Bull himself wasn't the most likeable character, but Michael Weatherly made him fun to watch. My absolute favorite character in the series was Geneva Carr's Marissa Morgan. It was nice to see her get her due in the final episode of the series.

On Sunday we found out that Jimmy Carter had passed away. Of all the presidents, I think he has had the most notable post-presidential career, and was just all around Good Folks. God bless, President Carter. You're back with Rosalynn at last.

Labels: Christmas, errands, events, food, health, outings, sickness, television, weather

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:52:00 PM

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Sigh. James' restless legs have done it again. Now he's torn a hole through the dark blue sheets. So I had to go to Walmart on Monday to buy new sheets because I needed a bottom sheet, and had to change the bed again, although I just changed it yesterday. Plus Walmart's "hotel quality" sheets aren't as good as when I bought the first two sets a couple of years ago: they now have a satin quality that, even with the deep corners and thick elastic band on the bottom sheet, makes the sheet slips on the mattress (and I can't find my sheet "garters," even though I know I still have them). Plus they no longer label the "top/bottom" on the bottom sheet so you know the short end from the long end. Faugh.

On Tuesday we were thinking of going to Canton, but we simply just went to Woodstock and had breakfast at the IHOP. Do you know they no longer have silver dollar pancakes for adults anymore? You can only get them on the children's menu now! The waitress was really sweet and said she would say I was ordering a short stack, but ask the cook to make me silver dollars instead. Except the cook didn't and I got the short stack, but the waitress talked to the manager and they gave me a complementary order of silver dollar pancakes! We tipped her really well and, as I could barely get through the short stack, brought the silver dollars home. [Later: We had them for breakfast Christmas Day!]

Wednesday I finally gave Tucker a bath. He was overdue for one when he got so sick last month.

On Thursday something baffling happened. We went to see Dr. Ahmad at the Doctors Building at Emory St. Joseph. This was basically a waste of our time as we had already seen Drs. Hobson and Keel; all he said was that he concurred with their diagnosis. (Well, if we could, we'd get it done, because now Dr. Keel is saying James needs a current echocardiogram because he hasn't had one since 2022. That is bullshit because he had one in the hospital in June when his kidneys failed and another either in July or in August. [Later: it was August.])

Anyway, when we left the Emory garage, the power chair was fine. The back was folded down. We left the garage, paid the attendant, the barrier came up, and we were on our way. We made the mistake of going to the Trader Joe's on Roswell Road rather than our usual Trader Joe's at Market Square. There was intense road construction right before Roswell, and we had to inch along for what seemed like ages. I went in by myself to get more orange chicken and other Christmas goodies that will disappear on December 26. This is a big open parking lot, no overhangs. Then we went to Kaiser Cumberland to pick up some prescriptions for James. Again, big open parking lot, no overhangs.

When we got home, the head rest of the power chair (remember, the back of the chair was folded down so it was over the seat) was bent 45 degrees. This headrest support is made from steel.

All James can figure is that when we went through the exit gate at Emory, it somehow caught on the head rest and bent it. How? We don't know. Why wasn't the rest of the chair damaged? Dunno, but thank goodness it wasn't!

Saturday we were planning to go out, but James didn't sleep during the night, so we slept late and had Zaxby's for supper and watched Christmas stories. Sunday we did go out, then went to Big Lots because we heard they were going out of business. The line was very long, but the two cashiers were very efficient. We got some cool bargains.

I'm bummed with Big Lots going out of business, though. Where will I get my shampoo now?

Labels: chores, Christmas, doctors, events, food, health, shopping

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:43:00 PM

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We had fun with friends this week; yes, these days it's such a rarity that I have to headline it. On Saturday we went to Hair Day, although we were the only ones there except for John Campbell. So we had some quality time with Ron and John while Sherii clipped hair. The house seems so large and echoing without Lin there. It must be so hard for Ron, still cherishing the house they shared but living with the silence.

Went home to wrap gifts and then had Game Night at the Lawsons. I was still feeling a bit sad from the morning and preferred to spend the evening talking with Jerry, David, and John Bouler rather than game playing. Alice and Ken couldn't come because poor Ken had another kidney stone. We munched on pizza and came home with enough leftovers to have pizza for another meeting.

Wednesday was my 69th birthday. I'd like to say I did something really special, but I didn't. I hit a couple of stores, but the most important thing I did was go to Drivers' Services and renew my driver's license. Because I was over 65, it said I had to go into the office and have an eye test. I had an eye test in May and tried to send them the info, but I apparently didn't have the correct info.

Well, to my surprise, it took me exactly one hour and one minute, per Life360! Now, we're only four miles from the Drivers' Services building, so that was no problem. I took my iPad with me, but I hardly had a chance to look at it. I got the friendliest clerk, who noticed it was my birthday, and she was nice to talk to, and then it was done. I had a paper license to carry until I get the new license.

Did manage to put up the 1940s Christmas village, minus the Christmas tree lot, and a bit squished together, on the mantel shelf rather than on the longer board that usually goes on the mantel shelf. Strung line for the Christmas cards under the mantel shelf (the rest of the cards went on the medial bookcase) and brought up the stuffed Max and Rudolph and the Charlie Brown tree (missing the red ornament to dangle on it) to sit on the hearth with Rusty the deer in a Christmas bauble collar.

Finally did put up a Christmas tree: I used the new tree I bought for the library, the four-foot tree. I decorated it only with the glass ornaments that came in boxes (the satin balls, the holly balls, the old McCrory's ornaments, the "snow dusted" red ornaments, etc. and a few of the cellophane wrapped "presents" and two pine cones. I put "Little Blaze" the star at the top and tinseled the whole thing in layers of icicles. It was set on a temporary circular table with a silver tree skirt I found at Hobby Lobby for half price, with the manger set underneath. I managed to crowd most of the manger pieces on the table or in the stable itself, but five figures didn't fit, so I tucked a small teak table that sits in that corner all year under the circular table and covered it with the tree skirt and put the remaining five figures (two wise men, a camel driver, a camel, and the boy piper) on that. It gave the whole thing a nice 3D look, and then the wrapped gifts went around the base of the table.

In annoying medical news, James went to see Dr. Keel, the guy who's supposed to do the "cement." Look, I'm glad this dude is being careful. I don't want him "just winging it" on this procedure. But now he's saying we need permission for James to go off his blood thinner for a week. Until he gets that, no treatment. Sigh.

Did a whole bunch of usual chores this week. Braved Walmart for yogurt, since neither Kroger nor Publix carry my flavor any longer. (Food Depot doesn't, either. I checked. We don't have an Ingles close by.)

James got an early seat at dialysis on Friday, and got approved for an earlier seat starting Monday. 10:30 is too early, but it's better than my picking him up after dark.

Labels: birthday, chores, Christmas, Christmas decorations, friends, games, health, illness

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

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Well, it was a bad week for medical solutions for James.

Dr. Connally was very firm that she wanted James to undergo some kind of aquatherapy, so on Tuesday we went to the place where he would have the therapy. This turned out to be a swanky retirement home that included a fancy dining hall with white tablecloths, flowers on the table, and Muzak; a little coffee shop type place, meeting rooms, a big gym, and a huge pool with a lift.

The therapist was very nice and said because James had trouble walking he would probably be better off going to their other location (on Dallas Highway) because their pool has only stairs and the Dallas Highway pool has a ramp. She said she was very confident that, especially once James had the "cement" in his vertebrae, the aquatherapy would help him regain some mobility.

Except he can't have the aquatherapy now because he has the permacath and it might get wet, even though he's only going into the pool waist-high. Which we kinda figured.

Then we saw Dr. Connally on Thursday. She was pissed off that James hadn't had the "cement" yet, as she had ordered that something be done immediately. James thought she was being unrealistic.

I've managed to rouse minimal interest in decorating for Christmas inside this week. On Wednesday I cleaned out the foyer of Thanksgiving decorations, ditto with the dining room and other bits of upstairs, and then later in the week did the foyer, and then the gingerbread-and-candy cane kitchen decorations and the dining room old-fashioned feather tree and the "1910 tree." I put up what was left over in the dining room boxes on the media bookcase in the living room.

In useful things, I got and used bolts to fix the hand truck (the last time I tried to use it, a whole bolt and nut were missing—how?—and another bolt was missing its nut), and also dropped off two full shopping bags of toys for Toys for Tots. I cleaned my desktop keyboard. I got my car inspected so I could renew my registration.

I've tested out the Christmas tree; there are still lights out on it. I don't feel like putting it up at all.

Labels: chores, Christmas, Christmas decorations, donations, exercise, health, illness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:32:00 PM

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Tucker did have the ultrasound to make sure he had nothing nasty going on inside him on Monday. He passed with flying colors.

Next day and on Wednesday James had doctors' appointments, podiatry on Tuesday and cardiologist on Wednesday.

We had a dinner invitation for Thanksgiving Day, but it was across town and we would have to drive home in the dark. Instead we spent Thanksgiving on our own; we made extra turkey so we could have leftovers (and indeed, we ended up eating turkey for weeks). With carrots and stuffing it was a sufficient dinner, and we watched most of the Macy's parade and the National Dog Show.

At night we got a treat: Lower Decks! Alas, the final season.

We were able to go to Second Thanksgiving, as we call it, at Alice's house. Juanita made a killer turkey and Kayla brought an even more killer ham. The company was even better than the food, even if I've been suffering from a lack of sleep.

All this was beside the point. We had gotten a call from James' sister some days ago. Her husband had been cleaning up some debris left over from Hurricane Helene and hurt himself. He was taken to the hospital to get checked out. The doctors found a virulent cancer throughout his body and gave him days to live.

He died on November 27.

They told my sister-in-law that the cancer was so aggressive that if they had taken the same tests in September, it would not have shown up.

Today I put up the outdoor lights and the candoliers, but I hardly feel like Christmas this year. I'd prefer to crawl under a blanket and forget about it.

Labels: Christmas, Christmas decorations, death, dogs, family, food, friends, pets, Thanksgiving

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

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After two meltdowns on my part, and Tucker finally being so fed up with me that he started growling and snarling at me, he slowly started to get better. On Tuesday he voluntarily ate small bits of meat. I had gone to Kroger and gotten cheap pre-made hamburgers out of the managers' special bin. I cooked the hamburger and fed it to him in quarters. First he ate the burgers alone, then with rice, then with vegetables and rice. A little bit more each night. One night I left miniature Milk Bones out. He ignored them for several days.

One morning they were gone.

Then he started eating his dog food again. He wouldn't eat the chicken flavor at first, just the beef, which was very puzzling. But he ate it, and that was a victory. And by Saturday he was dancing around begging for after-walk cookies again!

We also finally saw the film Hidden Figures and loved it! The scenes where Johnson has to run back and forth to another building just to use a "colored only" rest room made the point about prejudice so perfectly.

The other news wasn't as good. James' fistula is not "ripening" properly and he will need to have a catherization in which any blockage in the fistula is cleared. This will be done in January.

Labels: dogs, health, pets, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:35:00 PM

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There was no warning. It began fine: I had bought James a new duffle bag for our anniversary to take to dialysis (the old bag was falling apart). It has a separate compartment intended for gym shoes or a wet towel/swimsuit, and we have put his blanket in there. He doesn't really needed it, because now that he's on dialysis, he's not cold all the time. There's a compartment for his sugar-free mints, one for his snacks and visor, one for his water bottle and a juice box, one for his TV schedule, and then the inner compartment has a pocket into which he has two paperback books. The central compartment now just holds his noise-cancelling headphones (dialysis clinics are loud), his neck pillow, and his tablet (charged daily so he can watch Battlebots and whatever that Sylvester Stallone show is).

Tuesday was a disaster. James twisted, thrashed, and kicked because he was in pain all night. Needless to say I didn't sleep, and we went to Hanger to get his back brace fitted in very ill tempers. As we pulled out of the driveway a car stopped in front of us and the driver got out.

I've talked many times about Tucker's adversarial relationship with Max, the German Shepherd on the corner. I don't know how much I've mentioned his relationship with Champion, the German Shepherd down at the end of the street. His people rent a house in the lower cul-de-sac. I watched Champion from when he was a young dog. He has always approached Tucker with curiosity--"Oh, look, what a cute little dog!"--and Tucker approached him back with his head up and his tail wagging obligingly. It was obvious they both wanted to play together, but of course his person was walking him one way, and I was walking Tucker the other.

It was Champion's owner who stopped to talk to us: Champion DIED on Monday; he said they didn't know why.

We couldn't go home afterwards because James was scheduled for the bone scan at Kaiser, so we spent about a half-hour in Barnes & Noble before heading to Townpark. I was quite woozy and sick; we were going to stop at Walmart for yogurt and I was so sick we didn't. I did manage to get us a couple of treats in Bernhard's Bakery.

I was feeling better Wednesday, so after finishing the Lidl/Publix/Kroger grocery route, stopped at Walmart on the way home for the yogurt. In the evening I finally bit the bullet and ordered new phones. My current cell reboots at odd times and loses connection on local streets, and it's beginning to eat battery. I got James a desert tan color and I got a red one. Maybe it will be easier to find.

Then...out of nowhere, James got up Thursday morning, went out to make breakfast, and found out Tucker had vomited on the floor. Sometimes he does just get an upset stomach and vomit. But Wednesday he only ate one dog biscuit and a mouthful of rice in beef stock. He was listless and his eyes were tragic and he'd only drink if he licked it off my hands during the day. He drank more at night and ate a couple more dog biscuits. By afternoon I called Riverview and made him an appointment for the next day.

Thursday Tucker wouldn't even walk down the stairs voluntarily. I scooped him up and carried him on his back in his blanket and he just lay there. He hates being held upside down. His breath was raspy.

He stayed at the vet the rest of the day and overnight. He had a high fever (105℉!) and diarrhea and had IVs getting antibiotics into him and helping his dehydration.

We went to pick him up but he was limp and listless on Friday. I had to feed him with Hill's Urgent Care soft food with a syringe, and this was the only time he struggled. He has a dangerously low level of white blood cells in his body, can't go near other dogs and we have to watch him because he's susceptible to sepsis. It was so bad Saturday night I had a meltdown. This is too fucking much. First it was Oliver, then James in the hospital, then James at home, then the falls, and now it's poor Tucker. I felt totally helpless.

Sunday was a little better, as I did get some stuff done, but a real struggle to feed Tucker via syringe (I mean, I get it! I would hate it, too!).

Labels: dogs, food, health, pets, shopping, sickness, smartphones, technology

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 3:30:00 PM

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We saw our first Christmas lights Monday night, November 4! I love Christmas decorations, guys! But, too early!

Tried to avoid election coverage on Tuesday by watching a movie, but after the film curiosity got the better of us and we stayed up until midnight watching the returns. I will admit I am not happy, although I disliked both candidates. When your new "leader" nominates an anti-vaxxer to run a health organization there is something wrong. Our parents worshiped the ground Drs. Salk and Sabin walked on, because their children were not crippled, were not confined to an iron lung, did not die from polio, all because of vaccines. Smallpox was a dreadful thing. Just not right.

Chores for the rest of the week, and a visit to Dr. Salazar on Friday ended the week. We had not yet seen the orders for the tests, but he assured us they were in the system.

So Saturday was a very busy day: we were up early to get in line for free electronics recycling day. Yay, that stupid microwave James keeps barking his leg on is gone. Also my venerable vacuum cleaner, which gave me much joy. The new one works wonderfully, but it's still too heavy. Then we had Hair Day and got to see Mel and Phyllis! We nipped home afterward for a meal (James made pork chops and we ate at three), and then went to Kaiser Townpark. James had two CT scans starting at 5:40, and then we had to wait the hour until his 8 p.m. MRI. It was a relief to get home.

It was chilly and cloudy on Sunday, such wonderful weather! Tucker and I had a long walk, me clad in my favorite fabric, flannel! Later I put up the upstairs and foyer Thanksgiving decorations

Labels: Christmas, election, events, exercise, friends, health, sickness, Thanksgiving, weather

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:25:00 PM

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James has finally seen the spinal doctor at Emory!

Not that it did him much good.

The appointment was wayyyyy over at the old Executive Park complex which used to be a rabbit warren of little buildings, many of them rented by CDC. I had attended meetings and classes at Executive Park; the plus of going there was that it was near a plaza that was filled with restaurants, including a Chinese place we were very fond of going to for Friday lunch.

All of the buildings are now gone. In its place are the big Arthur Blank Hospital, part of Children's Hospital of Atlanta, a bunch of construction, and the Emory Muskoskeletal and Spinal Center, which was us. The building is shiny new, with a very nice-smelling cafe at the entrance. They have an interesting system of elevators, too. When you get there you register, and they give you a ticket telling you where to go: Level 4, for example, and then Aisle E. Then you go to the elevator bay which has a central panel. You tell the elevator you're going to Level 4, and it tells you what elevator to take. There are no buttons in the elevator; it's kinda spooky.

Anyway, we saw Dr. Hobson, but nothing was done that Thursday; she wanted a battery of tests first: a complete spinal CT scan, a complete MRI of the spine, and a bone density test. She doesn't want to start a treatment for his lower back that will screw up his upper back. She also prescribed a back brace, which we'll get from Hangar Orthotics, and hydrotherapy. When we got home we tried to set up the CT and MRI immediately, but the orders weren't in the system yet; they did not go in until Wednesday and James made appointments on Saturday evening the 9th at Townpark, but he couldn't get the bone scan until the following Tuesday. But it will be done quickly, so we can hopefully get James some pain relief.

This wasn't our only appointment this week; we also went to see Dr. Coyle. The fistula still isn't "ripe." You know, we were told, both times, that this thing would be "ripe" in six weeks. Now they tell us six weeks to three months!

In happier trips, we drove out to the Costco in Paulding County again. We got supplies, but there was no ScotTissue! We also stopped at the Walmart out there and I was able to find twelve cans of the recently discontinued Harvest Tomato soup, which I use to make chicken cacciatore. I think this is the only big haul I'm going to be able to get. I now have 20 cans, and then we will need to find something else. I'm very sad.

James had already filled in his mail-in ballot, and I did mine on Wednesday. When we left dialysis, we drove past the Smyrna community center where they were having early voting. This year they did allow me to deposit James' ballot along with mine; last year they insisted he do it himself.

I put up the outside Thanksgiving decorations on Friday only to discover I had no Thanksgiving flag! I ordered one immediately, a very beautiful surround of autumn leaves surrounding the word "thankful." Then I drove out to the Walmart near Roswell Road and Cobb Parkway in hope of finding more Harvest Tomato soup. No luck there, but they did have slip-on canvas shoes that I use for dog-walking at night. And just in time, too, because when I got home and swapped out the inserts in my old dog-walking shoes, I discovered the soles of both shoes were cracked!

This Walmart is next to Sam's Club, so I went in for ScotTissue. Thank goodness, they did have some! They also had—oh, my ears and whiskers!—poultry gravy. It has been like pulling teeth to find containers of poultry gravy; you can get brown gravy all the time, but not poultry. I ended up paying something like fifteen dollars to get a canister of McCormick poultry gravy mix from Amazon, and there they were at Sam's Club for $5 each. So I bought three!

Uploaded a new fanfic as well: "Haunted."

Labels: change, clothing, food, health, shopping, sickness, writing

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

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James finally had an appointment with the pain clinic, even if it was just a video visit. After looking at James' spinal scans, Dr. Connally thinks he needs outpatient treatment on his back immediately, something called "an injection of 'cement'"? He has a fracture in one of his lower lumbar vertebrae that is probably pinching one or more nerves, causing the terrible pain and the interference in his sleep. So he will be getting a call from Emory about seeing a specialist there.

I have been working on a fanfiction called "Quiver" all of the week and uploaded it on Saturday.

I had Michaels credits, so we stopped at the Heritage Pointe store on Sunday afternoon and now I have a new 4-foot tree for the library.

Otherwise it's been the usual chore-filled week. I did get a brighter light bulb for the library and was able to install it myself using the full-sized ladder. Leaning on the ladder makes me feel secure and I can stand being on the second step. I also replaced the long light bulb in the airplane fixture in the downstairs hall. This was a special gift to James from his mother, so we both cherish it. I found to my surprise when I got up there to replace the bulb that the old one was completely burned out! I could only get long light bulbs—they're called "radio bulbs" because they look like old-time radio tubes—in a four-pack, so I just replaced it with a regular-sized (A19) bulb. Fit perfectly, and damn it is bright down there now!

Labels: Christmas, health, home repairs, illness, shopping, writing

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:50:00 PM

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This week's high even had a disappointing low. On Sunday we went to the Apple Festival and, while it was nice to walk the fairgrounds, it was very tiring and I was suffering from lack of sleep, and feeling very woozy and out of it.

We made a short stop at Panorama Orchards for the necessities of life: fresh Granny Smith apples, blackberry spread, the tea sold in little wooden crates (but they quit making the ginger peach), sugar-free taffy, and a few other things. Then we decided to stop in Canton to eat, hoping to go to the Thai place, but they are closed Sunday and Monday. Brooklyn Joe's was slammed, so we went to Cheeseburger Bobby's. This was really good: you got enough meat in the burger and the onion rings were excellent! It was pretty expensive, though.

Stopped at Books-a-Million briefly, then got stuck in traffic on the way home. ::sigh::

The week started badly because we had to see Dr. Coyle on short notice. They noticed at dialysis that his fistula incision was weeping and had been giving him IV antibiotics on his last two visits. She said she didn't want him having that much vancomycin. She put him on oral antibiotics and told me to put Betadyne on the incision and keep it covered. [The Betadyne did do the trick eventually, but we can't figure out what happened in the first place as we followed all her instructions on caring for the wound to the letter.]

Just chores for the rest of the week, including cleaning out decrepit emergency toilet-flushing water bottles from the garage.

Labels: chores, events, food, health, sickness

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:41:00 PM

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