Snot & Lougies

I’m having a rough morning. Don’t even work today, but my stomach is a mess. This COULD be a sick day. But no, vacation has been used.

As I lay here slightly overheated from throwing up thick spit, I got to thinking about how much snot is actually swallowed. I know, gross.

When you suck snot in backwards and swallow instead of spit, it goes straight to your stomach. You’re basically eating your own snot and lougies. 🤮

I hope I can fall back to sleep.

I don’t have to work today.

I do feel a little better.

❤️P.

If my mom had 4 arms

Leg hugs

I had surgery on my knee this past Friday. It went well. Compared to the Achilles tendon repair I had two years ago, this is a piece of cake.

I’m to use these leg compression devices for 15 days after my surgery. I actually like them a lot and may continue to use them. It’s good for my circulation in my left leg too. The skinny leg, as my husband calls it.

My mom used to rub my legs at night when I would wake up in my early teens with horrific growing pains. She would knead each one, up and down, easing my aching muscles.

Oddly, these compression devices, remind me of the massages she would give to help ease the pain.

Well, if she had 4 arms.

Missing mom,

~P.

WTF just happened in the USA

This week has been unlike any other in my life.

It went from having huge expectations of good things to come in the future, to a crashing reality of who is going to be the leader of our country.

I’m afraid for my democracy. I’m afraid for my rights as a woman.

I’m afraid for the rights of all people that are not exactly the “person” Trump expects them to be in our society.

I’m afraid.

P.

Walking in the Hood

It’s just after 8 PM. My neighborhood is still busy with people mowing, rearranging the garage with the door open, and one’s even loading a U-Haul.

Gonna be down a neighbor soon. 👋

I’m just out trying to get my steps in because I’ve gotten chubby wubby and I’m letting it all hang free as I walked the hood.

Bras are over-rated.

I feel bugs biting me. 🦟 I hate them. Will never understand why they are needed. I’m constantly putting anti-itch cream on, and taking Benadryl.

Oh, my 🍏 apple tree looks nice this year!

I’m feeling good about my walk and actually would like to do a second loop but I can’t with the bugs.

I never started my workout tracker. 😭

Well, my body knows I walked…and was nibbled on by bugs I never see.

~Pattie

Back to the boot

Before stitches are removed

The best part about going back to the boot is….it comes off easily and I can have a REAL shower. I’m so happy about that I could throw balloons in the shower with me to celebrate! (That’s not a bad idea…)

I need to put the boot on when I’m up and moving around, but sitting on the couch, I can take it off. Last night I didn’t wear the boot while I slept. When I wake up and even move a little, I instantly remember I’m injured.

The additional stress of this injury and my inability to move around without further injuring myself has been overwhelming. I fell last Tuesday (hurt my right shoulder) and Thursday after my doctor appointment. My cast was removed and the stitches in my ankle cut out. I was given care directions and finally could leave. I was thrilled to have that “cinderblock” removed from my leg.

We made a quick stop on the way home. After leaving the store, I came to the end of the sidewalk into the parking lot and my cart stopped, but my body didn’t. The pain was excruciating as my foot touched down and didn’t have my boot on yet. It was at home, forgotten.

Brian and several people came running to me, but I had to lay on the ground withering in pain before even attempting to stand back up. I couldn’t stop moaning and even put my hand over my mouth so everyone in the parking lot wouldn’t hear my wallowing. It took a good minute or two before I even wanted to try.

After the parking lot fall.

Safely back into the passengers seat, we headed home and my moaning turned into crying. Poor Brian didn’t know what to think. He asked if I needed to go right back to the hospital. I shook my head no but couldn’t speak. I did have some pain, but not enough to make me cry.

“What do you need? What can I do?” he asked in earnest, truly wanting to make me better.

I finally blurted out, “My ankle’s ok but I want my mommy!”

He wisely just let me cry it out, as there was no substitute for my mom. When I’m at the end of my rope, mom is my go to.

We visited my mom yesterday. I told her the story of falling in the parking lot and crying I wanted my mommy. We laughed and laughed. My mom knows the frustration I’m going through and it was wonderful to see her and share this little sliver of life.

I know someday when I cry and want my mommy, I won’t be able to just go visit. Cherish everyday with your loved ones.

Wednesday is my first day of physical therapy. I’m excited to get started. I’ve had PT in the past for injuries, none this serious, and had great success. I feel positive I can get back on track. No jump roping for a long time. Maybe even never!!

Healing ungracefully,

Pattie

My left leg is SO skinny. Good thing muscle comes back quickly.

February already

Just watching my life fly by….from the couch.

The month of Love has arrived. It snuck in while I was under the influence of pain meds. Now Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us and I have zero ideas for a gift for the hubby. I can’t even promise a good time, but I will be good company.

I’m currently in a plaster cast. It’s like having 2 concrete blocks on my leg. My toes are constantly cold and I haven’t been able to wash off all the doctor “signatures” on my leg. I covered my cast with a plastic bag and saran wrap and was able to kinda shower. If you’ve ever been laid up and tried to shower without getting certain parts wet, well, it’s a struggle. I still feel like a graffiti board.

The next appointment (and cast removal, I hope) is Feb 16th. I am excited at the thought of losing the cast and just having boot splint to wear. I still will be non-weight baring but it is a step in the right direction. One I am permitted to take.

SO FURRY!

Several friends and family have stopped by and I greatly appreciate the visitors, gifts, good ideas and prayers. The restrictions and inability to move around is worse then the pain.

I’ve also resigned to having hairy legs. Keeps me warm.

Keep on smiling,

Pattie

Least sexiest boot ever

It’s completely severed. Damn.

Things were a bit rough today. It was hard to hear my Achilles tendon was completely severed. That it would not just grow back together if left unattended. I would be able to walk, but it would be nothing like what my active life has been. With surgery and good behavior, I could start to “kinda” walk again in 6 weeks and even have a full recovery in a year.

Spring is right around the corner and I have plans, so my goal is to be walking in April. Not sure how long I’ll need to wear this sexy boot after my cast is removed. Big Boots don’t work well on Boats. Big Boobs on Boats is a whole different story.

In other news, Tesla has her driver’s license after completing all necessary requirements and passing on her first try. The car her dad “surprised” her with for Christmas (that she has to pay for) is sitting in his driveway. She can’t drive it unless he’s with her because he doesn’t feel she’s ready yet. But, if I want to put insurance that covers her on the Volvo we bought her, he doesn’t care if she drives it to his house. Yeah, you read that right.

Also, Tesla started reading my old blog posts and has encouraged me to work on writing my book. We had a long conversation and I told her sensitive things that I have never blogged about because I didn’t want her to hear about them for the first time reading my blog.

As times passes, things get foggy. I am thankful I have all my blog posts and boxes, yes boxes, of paper notes. I’m going to need memory joggers.

Lastly, Matt is living with Brian’s parents. He won’t be moving back into our home.

I’m heading to bed. It’s been a day of disappointment, pain, aggravation and emotional hurt. I’m done.

Tomorrow is a fresh day,

Pattie

Just Jumping Rope. Gravity Wins.

What happened? You fell down.

There I am, getting my ass to the gym, trying to stay somewhat healthy, and even improve. Yea me! I was feeling great warming up with my new rope and . . . someone kicked me from behind.

Brian gave me a speed rope for Christmas. Not sure how other wives might feel about that, but, I loved it. I finally remembered to cut it off the cardboard and take in to workout on Wednesday. On Thursday, Brian was at the gym too and watching me jump rope, even commenting on how well it was going. My gym mates are really good at jumping rope. Some look like they are effortlessly dancing, often to a song only in their head.

I was watching them and decided to give it a try. I’m decent at jumping rope, I just can’t do it very long before I get hung up. But I keep trying, it’s all about keeping the heart rate up. Sometimes, I don’t even use the rope, I just jump around and swing my arms. No one cares.

No sooner did I start trying to jump “fancy” I got hit in the back of my left leg. It happened so damn fast I didn’t even realize I was on the gym floor, until I was there. One of our trainers, John, who was starting class in 2 minutes, looked down at me. I’m not sure if he recognized my confusion. I looked behind me, certain someone had accidentally kicked me, or I had crashed into equipment.

There was nothing behind me. Not a fucking thing I could have tripped over, other then my ego from thinking I could jump rope like the twenty-some-year-old, next to me. I actually asked what happened and both John and Brian, who was behind me, said it looked like I rolled my ankle. That does make more sense.

I tried to stand up and I couldn’t. I moaned and felt my stomach lurch. Oh Lord, please don’t let me barf on the gym floor. That would be horribly embarrassing. The guys tried to help me stand up and I felt my world start to close in and get dark. My stomach began to roll and I realized the reality of throwing up AND passing out on the gym floor. I HAD to get out of there.

John and Brian picked me up and carried me to the door. People were coming in as I was being carried out. I wish I could have said, “wait till you see the other guy.”

I didn’t go to urgent care until Friday afternoon after my Facebook friends insisted I needed to see a doctor. And, hey, they were right. The doctor said I severed my Achilles tendon and the end is probably up in my calf. I told him I was going to hope it’s not completely severed. He smile and responded, “you do that.”

Tuesday afternoon is MRI day. I’ve been on the couch for 2 days. I’m probably going to be immobile for weeks and then have months of recovery. That is going to suck.

I have never had to slow down like this before. I think about my mom and how she is chair bound, for probably LIFE. She will most likely never walk, and I will most likely, will have a full recovery. I’m going to suck it up and make the most of it with 3 goals.

  1. Don’t be down in spirit.
  2. Blog about anything. (Someone I don’t know once referred to my blog as a “Mommy Blog and train wreck I can’t stop reading”. Sounds accurate and thank you.)
  3. Follow doctor’s orders.

One or more of these may be difficult.

~P.

My hairless dog died

Losing a pet just sucks.

Over 13 years ago, I decided I was buying a hairless dog. I’ve never really went into why, if people asked, and usually just let the question go away with “I have allergies.” (Which I do)

A B&W for a photo course. Ying was an excellent model.

The reason I had a hairless dog is my ex-husband didn’t want a dog loose in the house. Dogs shed. He kept his golden retriever in a small gated off area downstairs. It was roomy for a dog pen, but lonely. So, I fixed that problem easy, and this hairless pup I found in TX, was born on my birthday. It was fate. I needed him by my side. Ying arrived in December 2008.

I left the no-roaming-dog house 2 months later.

Ying was the one constant in my life. He went everywhere with me. If I didn’t have him, people asked where he was. I felt like Ying and I attended college together. As long as the weather was acceptable for him to hang out, he would lay around in the car, waiting for my class to end, and we would walk campus.

He was spry and one day, got away from me off the leash. There was no catching Ying. After about 5 minutes he returned with a dinner roll in his mouth. He was fast as fuck, as they say.

For a photography course project, I asked a local tattoo artist, Tom Keller, who has since passed away, if he would pretend to tattoo Ying. He was completely down for the photo shoot. It started a STORM on the internet!! Like I would have even have tried tattooing him, or that Ying would just sit and get tattooed at all.

I’m so glad I have these photos I took of him while I was taking all the photography courses. I will have to go through all the ones I printed to see how many final ones I have. I only have one out that was a final part of my grade.

Found this of Ying and Tom Keller hiding in a box.

He was my protector. In his younger days he would go into a frenzy when someone got near me. He bit a lot of people, no joke there. But, after our last move, he wasn’t nearly as over-protective. He was old. Now and then, he would chase the kitten a little bit. Or even walk fast when we were out for a stroll, headed back home, of course. But, I knew the end was getting near.

He had been up in the garden two days ago. I thought he might have gotten in compost or even cat turds. He was throwing up and had the poops. Even after he licked at the water bowl and ate a little rice, he didn’t look good last night. He couldn’t walk. He enjoyed laying outside earlier in the sun. It was a beautiful day. He didn’t seem to be in pain. I carried him into his heated bed and petted his head. I told him he was a good dog. He looked back at me and I know he could hear me, letting him know it was ok to go.

He was a great dog. I will miss him. What a history we have.

~P. RIP YING. YOU WERE A BAD ASS!!

Tidbits I’ve recently learned

I talk to a crazy number of people. I’m a people person. I love them, they love me. I hear stories.

A friend recently had knee surgery. Her healing process was going well, and she was up and about in her home, getting stronger each day. Until the spider happened. A spider that made her say, “no fucking way are you gonna continue to live.” Since she was in her slippers, she wisely chose to fetch a sneaker, a sturdier killing weapon, by far.

She snuck up on that spider, giving it a hard look, with an additional, “Jesus, you are ugly” to be clear of her disapproval of the intruder. Just as she raised her rubber mallet footwear, the spider jumped at her. It wasn’t going down without a fight. She jump backwards, forgetting her crippled state, and shooting pain took the forefront. And the spider, was still alive.

She called for her son, and he arrived at her home just in time to beat the shit out of the offending spider, and to call an ambulance for his mom.

Lesson learned: Let the spider live. It’s a big house.

Another friend told me how he was chasing a suspect across a field. He could feel his pants begin to slip down the back as he ran, caused his heavy tool belt. He reached back to snatch up his pants, but wasn’t quite fast enough. His tool belt panted him mid-dash and anyone watching would have seen his cheeks snuggled in neon green boxer briefs for a flash, before he yanked them back up, without missing a step. Now that’s a pro.

Lesson learned: Take that belt in a notch.

Lastly, a friend recently failed a drug test. Not that the urine was dirty, it was clean. Heck, it wasn’t even real. But, what is wasn’t, was warm enough. Not to temp is an auto fail.

Second lesson learned: Use the prison wallet to ensure temp.

That’s enough tidbits for the day. I’ll always have more.

~P.