Another day...another mini stroke

Well, I had another stroke the day before yesterday, a stroke called a TIA, its a mini stoke a precursor to a big stroke.  I went to the local hospital, and once again regretted my decision, I was released from the hospital too early and had to go back by ambulance and before I even got off the gurney the neurologist yelled out "Discharge her!"  So without even an examination, like yesterday morning I was released and left to my own devices and left to have a full fledged stroke at home because the ego on this doctor knows no bound and he thinks he is god.  So here I sit talking to you my dear reader, about my poor health once again.  It must be very boring, it is all I have to write about, I don't think tat would be the case if I lived in my dearly beloved Phoenix Arizona (or anywhere else for that matter), its just this place that amplifies the misery.
I fucked up on the last phase of classes, I got 2 D+'s out of 4 classes, the others were A's, but those 2 D's really hurt....I am not passing along the information of those grades to the family.
Healthwise, if I did not have that mini stroke the day before yesterday I would say I'm feeling pretty good, at least as good as I get for me.  These mini strokes have me concerned as they are a precursor to a big stroke and I have had a big stroke and I REALLY don't want to go through that again, and perhaps this time I will not have the successful recovery I did like with my first stroke.  I don't want to end up a vegetable!.... All I can do is concentrate on doing the next right thing, going to school, getting going grades and making it through to reach my goals.  I just keep thinking what kind of world it will be in 6 years when I graduate and I can take on patients, what kind of health care system I am going to have to work with.  It has long since been my dream to be the voice for those that do not have one, like children, someone needs to speak up for them, defend them and protect them, that's the role I would like to play in the court system as well as having my own private practice, so I can help those that have reached the end of their rope and met with resistance with therapists all along, I want to be that one therapist who helps, who strikes that cord and is able make a difference in their lives.   Sounds like a tall order, but I have been on the receiving end of a bad therapist and I know what it is like to not be heard or understood.  I often wonder how I would have turned out if I had good therapy, someone who taught me coping skills and how to deal with life....but I digress.  I am going to look up and see if medicare if they have a personal counselor for me to go to because the stress is killing me, little by little.  All these health issues are related to stress, and the steroids, I can't eliminate either completely, but I can  diminish both and maybe then I can start to lose some weight which will help me feel better about myself, etc, ect....
Well, I have complained enough for now,,,and let out my plans for my future, I have to make it, dying isn't in my plans.

Murphys Law gets me again

 

 

I would like to share just a bit of background for those of you who have not had the fortune to follow my adventures here in Deliverance-ville.

On more than one occasion I have shared with you tales of my misfortunes since moving here back in 2003.

I have always said I was the universes test dummy, a walking talking example of Murphy’s Laws in action and that if I did not have bad luck I would not have any luck at all…Oh, and that I am jinxed (or possessed by some entity with a really sick sense of humor).

No matter the case, I have had situations befall me throughout my life that most find amusing, few have experienced and keep me in a state of constant vigilance awaiting the next “Ripley’s Believe it or Not” moment.

I have shared with you the now infamous chronicle of me walking my dogs whilst a funeral was in full swing, chasing down my rouge dog and having my pants drop down around my ankles as I tackled Gemma right smack in front of all the mourners.

I have divulged the more than embarrassing attempts made at dating here in squeal like a pig county, as well as misfortunate outcomes of trying to make a good impression on someone with which I had a crush on when I lived in Arizona.

I have revealed to you the various types of insects that have yet to be discovered by the entomological society, such as the moth that was so humongous it actually blinked at me.

I have opened myself up to impart on those who read my stories that there is always a humorous side, no matter how bad one thinks the situation is….like the time the house was permeated with the stench of death, and of course it was I who discovered the source of said odor – the broken open can of cat food that had taken on a writhing life of its own.

My parents moved here in 2000, I followed in 2003, so they had 3 full years to encounter some of these circumstances I have had the pleasure of stumbling upon.

Until I had arrived neither my mother nor father had the unique satisfaction of having a large arachnid fall into their lap while they were seated on the hopper at 3am. Nor the delight of lifting the lid to the trash can in your room only to have yet another giant, hairy arachnid sitting on top of the trash glaring at you because you interrupted his quiet time.

They have not had the unique joy of walking across the yard, first thing in the morning only to have a gaggle of geese drop a present on you as they fly south for the winter.

They have not heard the pitiable screams of a mouse being chased through the house by several cats and a dog, when I had to follow in pursuit and attempt a capture and save this wretched creatures life.

I also mentioned the rat infestation we had some months back, in which we mistakenly called on a local company to help us eradicate, much to our dismay, it did not end well for the rats or us.

Nor have they had the apocalyptic deluge of frogs invading their bedroom and having to chase them down and save them from 11 very curious and not so helpful felines.

These are just a few of the encounters I have endured here in the rural, backwards American armpit I call home.

Recently I have divulged our Beagles zealous curiosity with sniffing and howling at our dishwasher, and the surrounding cabinetry.

We all were in denial, we convinced ourselves it was just the usual temporary invasion of mice from the surrounding 200+ acres of freshly plowed under fields, as every year. Soon enough the mice discover a home with 20 cats is probably not the best place to take up residence, and they move on (probably to our barn).

We denied all the signs (to put it politely) that our feline friends were leaving us, trying to tell us that we were not just dealing with a little mouse or two, again we floated down the river denial.

We have been having a stint of exceptionally bad months around our house, with my Mom in such pain, my on again off again psychosis, my fathers pratt fall in the backyard that has led to him still have moderate lower back pain, leading us to WebMD diagnose him as having a fractured disk, of course he won’t go to a Doctor. Combine this with the fact we are all allergic to the water, we break out in rashes every time we shower…it just has been a very rough patch.

My bad luck is still holding strong, most days I wonder why I even bother getting out of bed, and today was just one of those days…

To start, I shall set the "mood": I am on an increased doseage of steriods (which increases my moodiness) and I am PMSing, a dangerous combination to anyone...

One of my feline friends decided she did not like her breakfast, so she left me a ‘little present’ on my bed. So I start my day waiting for my mom to complete her laundry, once that is out of the way I can wash my bedding and be off to face my regular chores.

But Murphy had to rear his ugly head…just in time for me to wash my first load (on a Friday afternoon mind you) the washer breaks down. The good thing: because I am such an obsessive compulsive anal freak, it is still under warranty; however, Lowes laughs at us because they will not drive out this far so we have to find a local service to come fix it.

This does not bode well with the luck we have had in the past with locals, yet we find one willing to come out, but not until Monday. So a sleeping bag it is for me for the weekend, and the repairman’s visit should be a story all its own.

At this point I am ready to give up on my day, when I head into the bathroom, yes the infamous bathroom, and what I hear sounds something like a very large creature with very long claws (perhaps an escapee from an episode of “Tales from the Crypt”), scratching and clawing away at the bathtub.

At first I thought it was our in house diablo cat; Thor, messing around in the bathtub playing, so I pull back the shower curtain, and no Thor (or any other feline to be seen). Whatever was causing the ruckus was exhausting itself something fierce and I could actually hear it panting!!!

I forgot what I was in there for and ran out of the bathroom racing to share my most recent experience in the cursed bathroom.

It had my mother so curious she in fact grabbed her crutches and hobbled to the hopper to hear for herself…what she heard was the pitiable, unknown creature knocking, as if at our front door: “Please let me out?”

Now, I have not yet taken my happy pill for the day and I am heading to the medicine cabinet to do just that, I have had enough of this day, the misfortunes, the creepy scratching and knocking in the bathtub, the dogs barking at the dishwasher…

I happily swallow my little blue pill and head out to my room for a lay down until my nerves settle a bit.

I have forgotten to mention that I have had a regular, unknown nightly visitor to the door to my domicile, which causes quite the hullabaloo with the cats in my room, as a result I get even less sleep than usual.

It is as yet unidentified, I know it has a white face it eats canned cat food, dry cat food and dry dog food…which really does not narrow the prospects much…but I keep feeding it different items hoping to determine if it is a cat in need or just the usual rural raccoon or some such critter.

But I digress, my happy pill and lack of sleep combined to knock me out for a 3 hour nap. I missed making dinner, so Mom and Dad had to settle for what we call “Denny’s” night (it’s the perfect greasy diner breakfast with all the trimmings).

I am less anxious than I was earlier, after all, my horoscope has been telling me to learn acceptance, so I am practicing.

Until I hear something being rearranged in the cabinet I am standing right in front of…now it is one of those old timey cabinets that are so deep they placed a 2 level lazy Suzan spinning shelf so you can reach all the stuff you store in there. This one happens to contain mixing bowls, casserole dishes, etc, so when they are moved they tend to make a loud sound.

Silly me, in my foolishly relaxed state thought nothing of it, thinking it was Thor misbehaving again. I open the cabinet, and begin to spin it round searching for the culprit, fully expecting Thor to leap out at me. I felt some resistance when trying to spin it around, and I would soon be face to furry face with the cause of said resistance.

Much to my unreserved shock, I was staring right into the beady black eyes of an opossum!!! Now this is just too much!!!

I slammed the cabinet shut, all the horror stories of how vicious they can be when cornered and the 50 razor sharp teeth in their mouths, I could not help myself – to my absolute chagrin I screamed like a woman!

Now for my damn near 40 years on this planet I have prided myself on being calm, cool and collected in any pressure situation (not involving spiders), but this place has broken me like a cheap chachkey from a tourist shop – I actually screamed like a woman (how horribly embarrassing, and an act my Mom will NEVER let me live down).

My Father came running while my Mother sat in her chair in the other room screaming for updates on what the problem was between her fits of hysterical laughter.

My father finally finagled out of me why I was screaming and laughing hysterically like an escapee from the mental ward and he went to check the cabinet for himself, and sure enough, the culprit was still there.

Not one cat, not one dog was alarmed to this home invader. My father tried to bang on the door in hopes of scaring it back the way it came, all to no avail.

All we could do is pin the cabinet shut, and the accompanying drawers so it couldn't get loose in the house and our animals could not get in at it, and hope it has gone along its merry way by morning! If not it is time to break out the “Have-a-Heart” trap and hope it feels like being caught……

In conclusion, amidst all the commotion our ‘alpha male’ cat finally noticed there was something amiss in his house and he proceeded to take a dump right in front of the offending cabinet, which, of course I discovered by Braille. The cherry on the whipping cream of my day....

Lucky me, now I get to take a shower in the cursed bathroom in the very same tub this Virginia Opossum which: “ is the largest member of its genus, family and order and is the largest of the opossums", imagining the clawing sounds from earlier in the day, so all throughout my shower I was closely watching the drain and the tub plug for little paws reaching out at me…

I hope he takes the opportunity my father created for him by opening all those wonderful crawl space openings to make his great escape and we can begin the search for where he got in and fill that damn hole before we have a parade of possums and raccoons prancing through the house!!!

Oh, and if you were wondering, that last nerve I was trying to preserve with the little blue happy pills, has left the building with Elvis…..

Mystery Case in Deliverance-Ville

 

 

 

There is something about having a pounding, reality-altering headache for five days that causes one to crave a bit of humor. Add to that, yet another grievous loss of a feline family member who was a companion, but an era, a last link to a time none of us were ready to let go of. I can safely say that humor has been in very short supply, while being desperately needed. So, in the brief moments I was lucid enough to string thoughts together, I recalled some stories that are at least incredible, at best hysterical...(I am hoping towards the latter.) Some couple, few years ago, shortly after moving here, I was skimming the local leaflet when a real live Sherlock Holmes type mystery leapt off the front page begging my attention. I always love a whodunit. Apparently, whilst fishing an unnamed man hooked more than he bargained for, he reeled in a suitcase. I am sure this man's mind was racing with all the possibilities - money, jewelry, some sort of treasure, as I would have been thinking the same thing....Alas, the Gods were not smiling on good ole' Jethro, as he pulled the case into his boat and wrestled to open it - grinning the way only a local could with his one tooth gleaming in the early morning sunlight. To his abject horror, he did not find money, jewels, sunken treasure, or even dirty underpants, his discovery was a leg. Yes a human leg. The story stated that this leg would be taken to the Big City to their pathologist to determine sex, and if possible cause of death…

I was hooked, (excuse the pun), I was waiting with anticipation for the autopsy results, which were taking an long time, especially since they only had a leg to work with.....However, before the results could be revealed, another lucky local had himself a similar adventure, but this time he caught himself a torso!  AH! Now them Big City folk really have something to work with, or so I thought. One may conclude that finding a torso would aid in determining the sex of the victim and maybe even cause of death....one LOGICAL person may think this......Once again silence from the metropolitan medical examiner....it had been some weeks without word one regarding any conclusions on these body parts fished out of the water (at very different locations I might at)....It had been so long since any update was revealed that I had forgotten about this DeliveranceVille dilemma...After many weeks of pontificating what little facts were known, and/or released this body business became curiouser and curiouser.....Then to my surprise, a front page story, with large print headlines and all, declared a head had been found in yet another suitcase, some distance from the other discovery could really crack this case wide open. Those smarty pants big city fellas figured out that humpty dumpty was a man! The article further stated that these brilliant minds also "were not ruling out foul-play"....GEE! Ya think!?  As I read further, while visibly shaking my head, the "Authorities were not ruling out SUICIDE?!  Now I ask you, dear reader, if you could please explain to me HOW this man committed suicide and then stuffed himself into separate suitcases and threw them in the water????  I am usually very good at playing clue, but this one totally escapes me....such is the life in Deliveranceville......