I'm Angry

I'm angry at you for leaving,
I'm angry at God for sending you into my life,
and I'm angry at myself for believing that I deserved to love again.


I'm just too old for this crap.
Relationships are really not worth the effort I always put into them.
I am locking my heart up again, this time for good.



Some say, "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
This is bullshit. This is always said by people in love, people who have never had their heart ripped out by a spikey glove then stomped upon by King Kong in cleats.

I' know my heart will heal . . . in time; but I am not doing this again.
I just don't have the strength.

I LOATHE Pre-Op Testing!

Emory University Midtown Hospital MUST streamline their pre-op testing! It took 4 hours to take my vitals (twice), get 4 vials of blood, and update my medical history (twice).

My appointment was for 9:10 AM we got there 10 minutes late, which considering what time mom got up and the traffic we encountered was a miracle. I thought I was gonna have to reschedule; but fortunately they were already running late.

Apparently my doctor is very particular. So before going to Pre-Admission Testing on the first floor, I have to go up to her office on the 18th floor. The nurse weighs me, takes my blood pressure, temperature, blood oxygen, and pulse. She then goes over the list of my current medications. Then she takes me down to an exam room at the end of the hall. Where I sit and wait and wait. Finally, a resident comes in, introduces herself reviews my list of current medications, takes a family illness history, and explains the procedure to me. She seems curious and concerned about my thyroid issues. I'll blog about my thyroid nightmare another time. Then I sign a few forms and she gives me paperwork to take downstairs. It is now 10:03 AM

Downstairs they ask the usual questions, like if necessary can we give you a blood transfusion, do you have a living will, would you like a pastor to visit you before surgery. etc., etc. FWIW: I don't have a living will, I am afraid of, but not opposed to blood transfusions. If necessary I expect them to move heaven and earth to save my life. I sign more papers and they send me down to the room at the end of the hall. A room which I have come to hate. It is now 10:25 AM

There is a woman sitting behind the sliding glass window stapling papers. It takes her a full 4 minutes to acknowledge that I am there. I hate that. When a patient comes to the window, she should immediately say, "I'll be with you in a moment." Anywho she needs to make a copy of my insurance card and drivers license, which they just did down the hall, and also upstairs. Then mom and I sit and wait; along with the rest of the wretched, huddling masses, yearning to be free.

At 12:55 PM they finally call my name. I follow a nurse with a Susan Powter haircut into exam room 6. I can tell she is having a bad day, but she is making an effort to be cheerful. So I do the same. She notices I am reading a Janet Evanovich book and we briefly chat about the crazy antics of Stephanie Plum and who should play who in the movie. She weighs me, takes my temperature, blood pressure, blood oxygen, and pulse. Oddly, My blood pressure has increased by about 16 points both systolic and diastolic. Probably because I am now annoyed, tired, hungry, and I have cramps. Plus I am stressing about getting caught in Friday afternoon, Atlanta, rush hour traffic. IMHO, It's as bad as Manhattan & Houston combined, only worse because it's in such a small space. Did I forget to mention I have my period? I'm not supposed to have it right now because they have me on BCP's. Then she takes a complete medical history and asks for any prescription meds and vitamins I might be taking, I give her my list. She is suitably awed and grateful. I have an alphabetized, color co-ordinated list of all my medications, vitamins, and past surgeries. On the back I put all my docs info and the phone and fax numbers to my preferred pharmacy. An anesthesiologist comes in and asks if I have ever had surgery before and if so did I have problems with the anesthesia. I tell her no. Not quite true, but I learned the hard way, that if you tell them that you once had trouble coming out of anesthesia, then they don't give you enough and you feel pain before you leave the hospital, let alone get home. The anesthesiologist takes 4 vials of blood as per my surgeons orders. She then tapes some gauze to my arm and I am sent on my merry way. It is now 1:30 PM, the whole process took about 4 hours.

Just to re-cap, they:
reviewed the surgical procedure I will be having and asked if I had any questions
took 4 vials of blood
weighed me
took a complete medical history
updated the list of my prescription medications and vitamin supplements
took my blood pressure
took my temperature
took my pulse
took my blood oxygen

So now I am all set for my second hysteroscopic myomectomy in 3 months. God willing this will be the last time I have to do this.

Mini-Drama
When the Susan Powter look-a-like was done, I went back to the waiting room and didn't see mom. I thought maybe she went to the cafeteria or the bathroom so I started walking down the hall in that direction. I'm not 10' from the waiting area when I see a woman collapesd on the floor and 3 people standing around her not doing anything. I ask what's wrong and am faced with shrugs. I ask if they called a nurse and they said no. I quickly go back inside and tell them a woman has passed out and needs help. Some idiot clerk says 'on the floor?' I said yeah rather sarcastically. Fortunately someone with a brain heard me and 2 nurses came running to help this poor woman. From what I could hear she was diabetic and had been waiting soooo long in pre-op testing she got woozy. She was on her way to the cafeteria when she passed out. To make matters worse her right foot was in one of those grey plastic surgical boots. I was afraid she had re-injured herself from the fall.

So to make a long story longer, I was not exaggerating. The pre-op testing process at Emory University Midtown Hospital is ridicuously long. Anytime you have people passing out from hunger, the wait is TOO long! They should be ashamed of themselves. I understand that depending on what your surgery is you may need to give a urine sample, have an x-ray, an EKG, and/or an EEG in addition to the things I had done today. Regardless, that should not be a 4 hour process. It just doesn't make sense.

How many responsible adults do you know?

Here's the problem, I have to have another hysteroscopic myomectomy on 8/25/09. Whenever you have a surgical procedure, not matter how minor they say, "Make sure you have a responsible adult who can drive you home." Sadly, I no longer have a responsible adult in my life, whom I can trust to do this. I have no idea how I got to this point in my life.

When I had the hysteroscopic myomectomy in May 2009 my mom drove me to and from the hospital. The problem with this is that the hospital is 46 miles away in Atlanta; and mom hates city driving. Mom is also 79 and has cataracts. Apparently while I was in surgery my mom slipped and fell in the waiting room . . . face first. She ended up with a big goose egg on her forehead and her right eyelid was bruised various shades of black, purple, and blue for about 2 weeks. So there I am in recovery worried sick about my mom and how we are gonna get home. Fortunately she was able to drive us home; but when she stopped at Walmart to get the prescription for my painkillers filled she decided to do some shopping and was annoyed that I didn't then want to go to Target which is another 20 minutes away. "Earth to mom, HELLO MOM! Just had fibroids yanked out of my uterus, I need to lie down and take drugs." She then told me she did not like my disrespectful tone. This is why I no longer feel I can trust her to be my responsible adult, in these situations. I don't mind having her along, but I need someone else to drive me.

Oddly this is not the first time something like this has happend to me. In 2006 when I had the surgery that determined my vulvar cancer was benign, I had my best friend since high school drive me. This woman was valedectorian of her class, a National Merit Scholar, and came in 2nd place on Jeopardy. Yet even though I told her on the way out of the hospital that the anesthesia was wearing off and I was in major pain and just wanted to get my Rx filled and go to sleep. This dear, sweet, otherwise intelligent friend, decided she needed to stop at a Walmart for a freakin' oil change on the way home! She literally dropped me off at the front door and then drove around back, to the auto bays. Fortunately the were all booked up.

I need to make some new friends that live nearby. The kind of friends that can be responsible adults. It's not like I'm an antisocial hermit. Although I have many good friends there are only 4 I would consider responsible adults. Of the four, the one that lives the closest is about 90 miles away and she works as a teacher so it's not like she can just take off work to chauffer me around.

1)How do you define a responsible adult?
2)How many responsible adults do you know?
3)If you had to go to the hospital for surgery, who could you trust to pick you up from the hospital, get your painkiller prescription filled, and take you home?

I'm Scared.

I'm scared. Daddy hasn't been doing well this week at all. He has Parkinson's and his symptoms seem to have intensified lately. On Wednesday when they came back from the senior center he couldn't get himself out of the car by himself. That's only happend once or twice before, but it was last winter when he first came home from the hospital. His sudden weakness and inability to stand up from a sitting position is odd. It scares me, it terrifies mommy.

Mom has been helping him in and out of bed for months now. We had the master bath re-done in May to accomodate him.

Today after he came from the center he was still hungry, so mom fixed him a ham and cheese sandwich and gave him some water and a slice of poundcake. I keep telling her not to give him sweets cause he's diabetic, but she doesn't listen to me. He lost 21 pounds during the 3 weeks he was in the hospital and rehab center back in January. Mom has been trying to fatten him back up ever since.

After he ate, he was cold, because I had the a/c set to a frigid 77. He went outside on his own power using his cane; and sat on the deck to soak up the warmth. This is normal for him in the summer. When mom checked on him an hour later he was napping. She noticed dad had changed into his swim trunks before he went outside. She put on her swimsuit and was gonna try to get him to do some movement exercises in the shallow end. But then the phone started ringing, and she put in a load of laundry. I was finishing up painting the trim in the bathroom. Long story short, the next time she happend by the kitchen door he was calling for her in a low hoarse voice. Apparently he had tried to get up and couldn't! Mom immediately came and got me and said, 'he needs help getting up.' Daddy claimed to have called both of us for almost an hour and was scared he would have to spend the night out there. Mom said no way was it an hour. But the truth is one of the symptoms he has been having trouble with is talking loudly or even in a normal voice. He thinks he is speaking in his rich bass like he did years ago, but really it's almost a whisper and his voice trails off at the end of sentences. Lately, I have to lean across the table to hear him say grace at dinner and it's not that big a kitchen table.



I had to literally pull him out of the chair today. It's just one of those plastic resin patio chairs, but we put a super thick pillow in it, so it's not so low and he can get up by himself. Once we got him to his feet, he started to sway and said, "I'm falling." Mom said no you're not and put his cane in his hand. I ran to the bedroom for his rollator. I wasn't gone a full 2 minutes and in that time he almost fell over and took my mom with him. :( I had to literally reach down and lift his feet so he could move, even with the rollator. It was scary . . . for all of us. We were able to get him into the bedroom and helped him to lie down. He looked so weak and a little grey. He went to sleep almost immediately.

There is no cure for Parkinson's. There are treatments, but they don't seem to be working well with my dad; maybe because he is 81 now. Or maybe because he refused various treatments when they were first offered 3 years ago; because he thought the Lord would heal him.

Mom came into my room around 2:00AM and I could tell she'd been crying because her eyes were red, and watery. I hugged her and said it would be okay, but we both know it won't be.

Life is . . .

Life is not about waiting
for the storm to pass.
It's about learning to dance
in the rain.

Buonna Notte

I gotta hit the hay, big day ahead of me. Lots of chores and errands cause mom's ladies bible study group is coming over tomorrow night. From what I understand, the August meeting is more of a picnic and the husbands and kids come too. Should be fun.

It's called a gun safe. Buy One!!

Police: Ga. Teen Awakes From Bad Dream, Shoots Sister 10 Times In Head

AUGUSTA, Ga. -- Authorities in Georgia said a 14-year-old boy awoke from a bad dream and shot his stepsister in the head 10 times while she napped on the couch.

Richmond County Sheriff's Lt. Scott Peebles said Eric Lee Phillips Whitehead has been charged with murder. Whitehead is charged as an adult in the Friday afternoon death of 22-year-old Patricia Ann Troglen.

The teen told authorities he considered his stepsister to be his best friend, but he became enraged after he dreamt about an argument with her.

Police say the teen awoke, got a gun from his stepfather's room and shot his stepsister.

Peebles says Whitehead had been in and out of trouble and had been staying at his stepfather's home temporarily.

The sheriff's office didn't know Saturday whether the teen had an attorney.
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IMHO no sane person dreams about an argument with someone they allegedly love or at least like; and then emptys a gun into them. Something must have been mentally or neurologically wrong with Eric Lee Phillips Whitehead. He wasn't sleep walking. He had to know at age 14 that dreams are not reality. Therefore his actions were intentional.

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I am so sick of these senseless deaths!
A high school junior was killed in Carrollton, GA Friday night because he and a friend were'playing with a loaded gun. WTF!?!?! I grew up in a house with guns. I was also taught gun safety.
Rule #1 NEVER point a gun at another human being!
Rule #2 NEVER use a gun in anger.

Family: Suspect In Basketball Player’s Death On Suicide Watch

CARROLLTON, Ga. -- The teenager accused in the accidental shooting of a Carrollton High School basketball player has been placed on suicide watch, according to the suspect’s aunt, Vickie Ware.

Ware told Channel 2 Action News reporter Ashley Hayes that she took her nephew, Johnta Chism, 18, to turn himself in at the Carrolton County Jail.

Authorities said Chism was playing with a gun and pointed the weapon at his best friend, 16-year-old D’Vante Rashad Williams.

Witnesses said Chism didn’t realize the gun was loaded. Williams was taken to a nearby hospital and died.

Police said the incident occurred at the student’s home in the 500 block of Willie North Street in Carrollton at about 9:30 p.m. Friday.

“He (Chism) didn’t mean to do it," said Williams’ mother, Michelle Strickland. "I can't hold a grudge against him."

Carrollton police Capt. Jamison Sailors said Chism was arrested late Saturday night and faces one charge each of manslaughter and reckless conduct in Williams' death.

Athletic director David Brooks confirmed that Williams was a basketball player at Carrollton High School.

The suspect’s aunt said both of Chism’s parents died when he was young. Ware said ironically, Chism’s father died of a gunshot wound while playing with a gun.

For the love of God in heaven if you have children and you own a gun, get a gun safe! Do not give the children access to the combination or key to the gun safe.