Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.

 Contact me at theyoungfamily (at) earthlink (dot) net

. . . . .
. . . . .  

» Saturday, September 10, 2022
Starting With a Bang and Ending With a Whimper
So Sunday was James' birthday. He decided to take the day off, as well as Labor Day. I still did a few chores, but we had dinner at Longhorn (he was very circumspect, only an 8-ounce Renegade and mushrooms and onions; they told him to be good after his hospital stay and he's been trying hard), and they gave him a free dessert (vanilla ice cream with whipped cream, but at least it was decent vanilla, with chocolate syrup on it), and we went to Barnes & Noble afterward.

(I also decided I wasn't satisfied with the fluid I was getting from three catherizations a day—James' legs looked a little swollen to me, but his numbers had been fine when he was tested at the infusion clinic on Friday—and I added another, and hoped it would do. This is important to mention.)

Labor Day was quiet; I cooked St. Louis ribs with a low-salt Splenda and maple syrup glaze in the lower oven; they came out swell and we both had leftovers for a small lunch.

Two quiet days, and then we had a Thursday out: went to the first day of the Yellow Daisy Festival. Some of it was back out under the trees, but a lot of it was still on the street; once again, in the sun I was feeling hot and dizzy, and James kept getting lost on me and not answering his phone (because the volume was turned down low--not sure why this keeps happening; maybe because he uses the headphones during the week and they turn the volume down).

Well, it's happened: our Yellow Daisy days won't be the same from now on; the Country Pick'ns people are retiring after this year. I will miss them terribly, but I can't deny them the same status I enjoy. I have made so many shadow-boxes from these folks' things, most of which I have showed off on this page: my "me" shelf with other little miniatures I've added, a year-round autumn shelf in our bedroom, the seashore shelf in the hall bath, the kitchen-themed shelf in the kitchen, and the seasonal shadow-boxes (fall, up all year; Hallowe'en, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and winter), the "our house" heart-shaped shelf, plus the tiny shadow-box with the nativity figures on it, a couple of little miniature items like tiny Christmas arrangements, and the two little gifts I didn't give out last year, but will this year. Well, since it was their final year, I wanted to buy something, so I got a few little extra autumn things for here and there, and then I got a brainstorm. I've been impossibly enmeshed in these fanfic pieces I've been writing since last year, and it's given me such pleasure, and I got the idea to make a shadow-box of the fanfic elements. I'll add some decorative buttons and it will work.

We had lunch at Chow King, then moseyed to our appointment with Dr. Kongara (nephrologist) to finish out the day. He was pleased with James' post-hospital condition and sent us on our way (this is important for what happened next).

We got home to discover that Queen Elizabeth II had died. We had heard on the news earlier that she was not doing well. Two days ago she had met the new prime minister and now she was gone. Prince Charles is now Charles III.

Friday we did the shopping and there was another turn at the infusion clinic (this will keep going until he has the PICC line removed). Got lucky and there was a box of free books there, for anyone to take. I found a copy of The Personal Librarian, which I have wanted, about the woman who arranged J.P. Morgan's personal library for him; it was not known until just recently, but she was Black "passing" for white.

Saturday James was feeling "off" and decided to go to his club meeting online. I was worried about him and didn't leave the house except to gas up Butch, because I had a terrible feeling something was wrong from the way his legs looked. I was up half the night listening to him breathe in short, staccato breaths.

So you guessed it: Sunday morning we were going to be back at the emergency room... be continued...

Labels: , , , , ,