There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.
William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Nothing important happening in the attic

Attention:  Started this before Tiffany wrote her blog post I Cyber Love You, Man.

This one gets bad towards the end.

As the title says....just another beautiful day in Idaho.  I used to call it paradise here, but I've changed my opinion lately.  I'll write about that someday. Not today because I am in a good mood and I don't want to spoil it. Should there be a semicolon after someday and then a lower case n?

So, the Louie thing really incision is infected although the surgeon won't admit it.  If anyone wants gore and purulent stuff, let me know.  No pictures.

Steve has jacked up his back from T12 through his sacrum per his MRI, and I'm talking bulging discs, stenosis, nerve root impingement....just everything that can happen to a lower back.   He can't get in to see the neurosurgeon until December 9th.  I hate to see him like this....all hunched over and walking with a cane.  He is miserable I know.  I am picking up the slack the best I can, but I am going to have to draw the line at lifting the 40# bags of corn he gets to feed the bambis that the craping turkeys steal.  If I knew how to use a gun, they'd be dead. The turkeys, not the bambis.

No more mowing the lawn.  Fine with me. It's not growing anymore because it is too cold and there are pine needles covering it anyway. 

The HELOC was an exercise in lying credit union people.  Another long story for another time.  See the above gun reference....only substitute loan people for turkeys.  Although, turkey and loan person might be interchangeable.

The cats are fine.  We have sort of settled into a routine with Emma and it is working!  She gets blue stuff cat food in the morning (I have no clue what kind of fish pate it is) and we sneak the tuna flavored phenobarbital in it and then she gets some kind of green cat food at night (there are actually 3 flavors of green so I stack them apart so I know which one she got the day before) and sneak the tuna medicine in again.  She gets kitty crack at night, but just 10 of them and she can freely eat her regular dry cat food all day long.....and night too.  Then On Monday and Thursday she gets an appetite stimulant pill (it is 1/4 of a pill and about the size of 1/4 of a pea).  We have to use a pill shooter thing to get that down her because the pill apparently tastes like shit if we judge her reaction to it before we got the pill shooter.  Her reaction?  She spit it out.  We love this cat a lot....and I mean a really lot. 

Izzy is still on a rotation with Emma and Guido.  Every other day he is upstairs and they are downstairs.  I wish he could behave and just calm down when they are all together, but he is the way he is and I love him no matter what. 

The dogs....they are just dogs.  Violet is getting bitchier and losing bladder control.  That's not actually accurate.  She just stops mid walking somewhere and potties.  Wes still reverts to puppyhood every once in a while, and Pete is still asking if we are going to throw him away like his last parents, Pete, we are not.  We love you.

Sunday 10.18.15, I was in a good mood when this started.  Not now.

In case any of you have wondered or whispered: Is Rosemary depressed?  Why, yes she is.  Officially....diagnosed years and years ago.  I have been through therapy and told my story way too many times.  I refuse meds...just because I hate taking meds period.  It got way worse after I had my heart attack and my doc really, really wanted me on meds.  Nope.  My kids and one grandson call me Debbie Downer and Steve worries that my stress level is gonna kill me...but, I am what I am...a worrier and a bit gloomy.  I apologize.  But, at this late date I am probably not going to change.  I do have my better, maybe even really good moments.....occasionally.

Things haven't happened to me....I picked them and the fallout on my kids and extended family has been pretty bad.  I carry that in my head, my heart and I am sure if I have a soul it is there too.  It's called guilt and sometimes I call it regret.  I tried finding God again...or as Lorraine said to me once, I was looking for religion not God.  Whatever it was, he or she has not spoken to me in a long time....and then there are those weird, abstract things I have mentioned in the past about clouds, fog and other crap. 

Anyway here is the truth:

Fucking Louie has won for now.  It is almost 4 weeks since incision is still open, the edges of said opening have healed, it is still draining some neon yellow shit and I cry about it every day.  If the doc doesn't do something, if he tells me it is looking ok I am going to lose it. 

This whole loan thing is overwhelming.  I vacillate between being pissed and something else I can't put my finger on...murderous, maybe?  We have been in financial trouble for 6 years now....we lost almost all of our retirement  in the recession, Steve, after he retired was at loose ends and started a "hobby"......buying coins and paper from the mint and hid it from me and amassed credit card debt beyond numbers I want to even put out there. I kept buying little things for the house...shower curtains always made me happy for some reason, and nic nacs that have since been sold in yard sales.  Anyway, we got ourselves into this money mess and now have to figure out Plan B. 

The kitties are my everyday happiness, Violet's pottying is driving me nuts, and the F.U.C.K.I.N.G. turkeys are dirty shit machines. 

I am spending way too much time just reading at The Knock.  I love the humor and it makes me smile.  I love reading blogs, but that next blog thing in the middle of the night is addicting and does not help my inability to sleep. 

Moving to Idaho, while a good idea in 1998, is no longer a good idea.  I am not looking forward to winter, Steve can't/won't be able to handle the snow, I ended up hauling not only the 40# corn bags, but the 50# seed bags too, I miss my kids more than I can even figure out how to express.  Yes, I was fried, burned to a crisp with being a nurse and the get-em-out-quicker-and-sicker mentality, moving 1500 miles away was not the answer.  We can't afford to travel to them and they can't afford to come to us. Holidays are spent alone...well, with Steve.....and I am over the whole Pioneer Woman thing.  There is no solution because Steve won't leave Idaho.  Period.  And....this sounds really awful....he is here all of the time.  We have few friends because that's what Sandpoint is all about....refuge from the masses....even two people are considered a crowd. 

So, there you have it. I'll understand if you all just sort of back quietly away.  Really, I will.  But, I'll still snork around Facebook and the, be careful if you talk about me....because I am probably paranoid too! 

No spell check and Tiffany can correct syntax, commas etc.  I need to post this before I change my mind....umm, I can always delete it I guess if things get too weird, right?  PS....Can someone tell me how to post pics to my blog because I am to old too figure it out....some little circle thingy just keeps....circling.

Love you all, me..... warts, pimples and all


jp said...

When they removed one my brothers' testicles the pain/discomfort continued for quite some time, he kept going to the doctor and they told him everything was fine but he was certain his Louie had won as well. Turns out, the doctors were actually right but the body takes a long time to figure that out. Your Louie is dead now and you are alive, so tell me again who won?

I call my writing "conversational English." I put punctuation where I want, usually incorrectly. You will count several errors in this comment. Certainly doesn't make me good at this, but at least you aren't alone with proper comma placement.

What else? I do worry about you every winter, but I might be projecting my snow hatred. Cold winter and holidays trigger my depression more than anything. I've never taken meds either, not since this one pill in my 20's that put my penis to sleep and that was the last time for that. I'd rather be depressed.

I hope Steve gets the help he needs for his back as soon as possible. I hope you feel better tomorrow. Today would be even better, but that would just be greedy of me.

rosemary said...

Love you, jp. I actually felt better after I hit POST....kind of being honest about my "moods" felt freeing. Crying helps too....I do that a lot...any season.


I just wanted to fill the tank on the truck and drive to Idaho and give you a big ass hug...I lost' my religion and God' after my daddy died in 1982..that's when the Goddess found me..I like her..she lets me ask for favors..she always listens but she doesn't always act on them..sometimes she lets me know I have to handle it on my I's not as hard as it sounds..I hope Steve's back is better, I wish he would change his mind about moving..I hope he uses a heating pad cause it really does help..I love you both ....

Auld Hat said...

I also found the Goddess; or rather, the Goddess found me so that is how I muster courage for life sucky things. Goddess/Divine Feminine/Power Bitch is the level of energy required in this life for me. (also, She is totally down with fits of vulgarity and throwing entire cakes at walls without judgement) Anyvent, you need a pressure valve Mommy. I love what JP said about Louie; that loser. In fact - I refuse to give that mass a name, there is too much power in a name. The leaky void wot once was cysty and terrifying is gone - let your body heal. And tell your worries to piss off; they (the worries) WANT you to be sick. They WANT a mass with a name to occupy your thoughts so you don't dare look at what's really upsetting you. I don't know what that is but I do know how the body does that thing where it listens to the mind. My mind convinced my body that I needed to die 7 years ago and I was all set to allow it. Then the Goddess dumped a husband in my lap and then a lil'Hat and then gathered all of my friends around me again from every corner of the globe... so. One last lonely Winter, and then we will be close enough for pressure valving. <---- ??? (go with it) You don't have to sugar coat your life for us. We love you. We are your family xoxo

rosemary said...

xxxooo Jackie and Angela.....xxxooo

booda baby said...

I've already gone on and on and on about what I believe about healing Louie the troublemaker (see ^ up there. It's just about the same, isn't it?) and they all said it soooooo much better.

Aghk. All the shit that - literally - adds up to a less than happy head. Well, that needs some healing, too, doesn't it? It's kind of a nice thing, that we get a new day, over and over - it doesn't change the stuff that's real but it DOES give us a chance to float a little more, breathe a little more deeply and slowly and be soothed. Tick tock tick tock - life's happening, one way or another. I hope today it all felt a little easier and lighter.

Bad Alice said...

We only know each other virtually, but if we met in person I would give you a big hug. I'm sorry everything is crappy right now, and I'm really sorry about Steve. It's awful worrying about the health of your partner, seeing them suffering and not being able to do anything about it. I hope a little sunshine comes your way, some little joys to help shore up the energy you'll need.

more cowbell said...

I hear you, Rosemary. I so hear you. I know everyone thinks, oh, she's off in tropical No-Worries-Landia now, isn't that nice, but I gave up my future pension. We thought that if anything ever happened to the esposo, I'd automatically get his pension as a widow, but we found out (after I was here and married) that no, not so simple. I'll get a pittance (not enough to live on) only IF I can prove to the judge that I'm not a rich gringa. Yeah, right. This Old Motherfucking House was supposed to be my ticket to a nice nest egg. We all know how that bastard fucked me. So ... I feel you. Financial pressure and fear for the future is one of the most stressful, worrisome things, and it really can color even the good things in life. It's always there.

It's so fucked up -- especially in the US -- that even our health and the health of our partners is all tied in to the financial future, too.

I hear you about the distance from the kids and lack of funds for visit. Right there with you. Hugs. That shit is hard as hell. The worst thing. I have to keep that part locked up or I seriously start to freak. Those big moves look fabulous from one side, but then the parts you thought you could "work out later" turn out to be pretty rough.

Fuck Louie. That fucker's gone. Buh-bye. Adios, pendejo. Like Hat said, you've got some healing to do from where he USED TO BE, but he's gone and you are not.

No, I will not correct shit as far as any writing. I only do that if I'm being paid or if someone is being a mean asshole, criticizing someone else's writing when their own is jacked up. (Can't stand mean, arrogant, ignorant assholes.) This is our place to spill, to vent, to connect, to laugh, to cry, whatever the hell we want -- this is our conversation, not Composition 101. Not even proofing this comment. Fuckit.

There's a reason we've all been so taken with The Knock, probably past what is reasonable. It's connection. It's an escape, sure, but it's also connection with real people. So if that's weird, fuck it. I feel better this week. I feel better since we're all writing more than a sentence with a meme attached.

Anyway, I hear you. ((((cyberhugs))))

more cowbell said...

Also, "like" to what everyone else said.

Auld Hat said...

(Cowbell is my spirit animal)

rosemary said...

Damn.....I am lucky, blessed and then double lucky blessed to have you all as friends.