Autumn

Autumn

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Bits and Pieces

Not much time - they come. They're out there, crawling along the hallways. They wait...

I hate to post of my illness. Seems torrid. Yet, I'm stuck. Hopefully I'll be able to escape within a few days. Of course my escape is conditioned upon my agreement for home care. They insist on a vacuum pump, portable, a leash if you will.

Now, on my new follower 'thanks and welcome' post....please be patient. I am reduced to writing on this laptop. It's a nice one, but I hate it. It's sensitive, my fingers are too damn big...and well, I hate it...there. I promise, I will give proper thanks as soon as  possible. I keep my promises. Maybe I'll surprise you, if I have the time today...never know...my photo library is stashed on my office computer, yet, maybe...either way, you will be thanked properly. There is a purple dragon on the wall, see him...drugs...suck.

Hospitals, a few tips.
Bring reading material, a couple of 'old fashioned' paperbacks, a Kindle if you have one. My Kindle is priceless. I've read, between all the bulls&*t, two novels.

Bring little salt, sweetener packets. These meals (chuckle) come with one tiny packet of salt. Example, yesterday there was a piece of chicken breast, a tiny pile of green beans, and a few pieces of limp pasta. Each required seasoning. And, there sat that tiny packet of salt. 

You will not sleep. When the door to your room opens for any visit, scream and yell and insist the critter close it upon their exit. Hospitals are loud. Fight for your rights. Some here fear me. One lady noticed my holster (sans weapon) and made a remark that I probably enjoyed hurting people....I smiled at her, kinda toothy...she hasn't been back. When they respect and fear you, you just might get a few more moments of rest.

Park you dignity at the door. Granted there are some very lovely young nurses that in ordinary circumstances - well, you understand. But in here...with my Sweet Wife in residence...it's well, kinda not cool for my neither regions to shine. Even the head (bathroom) is open territory for rudeness. The suckers just walk the hell in and ask if they can stay a while....just hand over the toilet paper and ask if they'd like to help you wipe. Again, fight for your rights. If medical staff brag through the door, kick their butts out. Train them well. It works. Just yesterday the ASP remarked she thought I was 'just such a sweet man.' I'd yet to snap at her. She'll learn. (hey, really, I am a sweet kinda guy. Not my fault they give me drugs.)

Sorry, drifted off. Serious, drugs are awful. I find myself, as I write this, lost, mind numbed. Thinking requires a bit more effort than normal. Resist as long as possible the pain killers. Morphine is a demon. I hate it. See, reading back on my last couple of lines....all hell. I don't care....

Get the point....like that.

You will lose weight. I came in at 225. I now weight less, and at six foot one, anything less than two hundred pounds and I resemble a bean pole...just deal with it. Some of you, it might just help. I think of it as a tune-up for future battles...

They are close now, I've caught their scent. Wound care. Nice guys...they help me heal. They hurt too.

It'll be a few weeks before I can hold and hug my Little Bit. Received word she isn't happy by the fact her father is driving her to school. A couple of nights ago she was able to visit...at first the duty nurse said no way. Then Sweet Wife jumped into action. She explained to the nurse that she needed to see her Papa, and I wanted to see her. She said it's not good to keep these two separated. Little Bit did her part in the drama by giving over her big brown eyes, tears rolled down her face. The nurse melted. Little Bit was required to dress in protective garments. She was limited to the hallway of my room. The little girl jumped up and down and cried (yes, so did I) and fought her Nana and father in her attempts to run and jump on my bed.

Sweet Wife calmed her down and asked her to throw kisses. I caught 'em like a pro. She asked why...we explained. She said she didn't care if Papa had germs, she wanted them too. (whew) Rip out my soul, why don't 'ya. It hurts.


I want to again thank each and every one of you for all you kind thoughts and prayers. I promise to cease writing about this stuff as soon as possible...a clear mind would help too.

If I have missed any comments please let me know. I will, I promise, answer as soon as possible. Edit work isn't my thing....if I misspelled a word or two, please, over look 'em.

God bless.

Stephen

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

My Window

To the world gives me a view of the river and the endless sky and the thousands upon thousands of vehicles in an unbroken stream that moves from east to west and beyond. This window is my distraction as they clean and remove the dead tissue.

I count recreational vehicles. During today's session, as the nice man worked, I lost count at fifty one.

He'd look up and say, "Are you okay?"

"Sure." Then relax my grip. The nice man took my hand and said, "I know it hurts."

I asked, "Have you experienced this too?"

"No."

I went back to the view from my window.

Stephen

Still Alive

This will probably be a very quick note. Please understand I am under the influence of a mess of heavy drugs. I am still located on the sixth floor of a major medical center/hospital. This is the first opportunity I've had to connect to the internet, and a mind clear enough to use it.

I want to (thinking here) say 'thank you' to all my dear friends for your outpouring of love and concern for my health. Thank you all for your prayers. They worked.

Long story short, my Sweet Wife saved my life last Friday night, the 27th of January. The surgeon, after a quick glance at my 'wound' told us I had about six hours to live. He told us either allow him to cut, or else. Guess what I said....anyway, luck and my wife were on my side. I'll explain/tell my story later, or not. I'm unsure at the moment.

I'll be here for a while, hopefully not long.

Gotta run, they're here with their whips and chains.

Update: I will post a proper thanks and welcome to my new followers as soon as possible...in the meantime, God bless you and welcome.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Stephen

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Thanks & Welcome

To my new friend, Bill. I promise, my friend, to answer any comments. It might take me a few hours, or days, but trust me I'll reply.

Bill has a nice blog and business here. Bill teaches firearms training. Take a look and say hello, please. He's one of us.

Again, thanks and welcome Bill. You are now among friends.

Stephen

Quick Note

I'm home for the day. Thank the Good Lord for none narcotic pain medication. Movement isn't on my agenda, it hurts.

I want to thank all of you for the kind comments. I'll be fine.

On the bright side I should be able to make a dint in my book stack. Two to three arrive every week but with my work schedule and the normal interruptions of life it's difficult to stay ahead of the deliveries.

Until then.

Stephen

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Update

The doctor asked me to drop my trousers. At the top of my left leg is a swollen hard red knot about the size of two softballs. Doc said, "Wow."

Then he said, "Bet it hurts." Doctors, I understand, are considered intelligent.

Bottom line, I'm sicker than I first thought. I'm on three antibiotics, one shot into my hip.

All I want to do is sleep.

I'll live.

Stephen

Bits & Pieces

I feel my age this morning. I hurt. Somehow within the last few days I've caught an infection. The doctors office awaits. Anyway, I'm sure the doctor will prescribe one of his miracle pills and by the end of the week I'll feel like my old self.

According the the calendar it's winter here in Florida. It lies. Warm and humid out this morning. Fog as thick as cotton candy. I hate it. We've had, maybe, three days of winter this season. Climate change, don't 'ya know.

I came in this morning with an idea for a long post. Not gonna happen. Maybe tomorrow, or tonight. Just can't get comfortable. Mild headache.

Rambling, aren't I. Sorry.

There is an outside chance Little Bit's mother, her birth mother, will visit on Little Bit's birthday next month. That is if the stars are in alignment, the earth's crust doesn't shift, and purple rain showers develop out over the Gulf of Mexico. Little Bit hasn't seen her mother in over three years, so I'm not sure how I feel about this visit. What effect will it have on my grandchild when she has to say, goodbye.

Her mother has promised so much over the years and, as is her way, failed. She never follows through. This hurts Little Bit. I hope this isn't another. Little Bit is so excited. Her mother called Sweet Wife a couple of nights back and her mother and Little Bit spoke for close to an hour. She asked what kind of cake Little Bit wanted for her party. They spoke of gifts. Her time of arrival and by which means. Little Bit was jumping up and down with glee. Her mother lives in North Carolina. She has her problems, which we pray she will someday overcome. She really is a sweet person. But, she has her demons.

There is a hole in Little Bits' heart. It needs to be filled. I'm just not sure her mother is capable.


Sorry for the sad tone this morning. Like I said, I don't feel very well.

Stephen