I was never told directly to, “get my affairs in order”. I knew that’s what I had to do when I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I mean, it just makes sense, doesn’t it? When you’re told you have a limited amount of time to live, that’s what comes to mind. I mean after all the emotions that fill you after the word, ‘terminal’.
I know firsthand what it’s like to have a loved one die without a will. It’s a mess. My mother didn’t have a will when she died in 2016 and it left a mess for my sister to fix. She did her best to convince my mom to make a will but I think in my mom’s mind she just couldn’t do it as I believe she was convinced that if she made a will that would be ‘the end’. She would die.
My husband also refused to make out a will. I asked him several times in the last few years he was alive. His excuse was always, “Well, your my wife, you would get everything anyway, so why waste the money?”
Unfortunately, the government doesn’t recognize these things as legitimate excuses. They still want their paperwork and they want it soon. So, for the first month after my husband died I had to fill out paperwork, I had to prove I was his legal wife, I had to prove he didn’t make out a will. It was exhausting and I never got time to properly grieve for that first whole month. It makes things so much worse for those left behind if you don’t have a will. So, Please, PLEASE make out a will and file it away just in case. Make it a little easier for your loved ones to grieve.
I made a will after my husband died. There is a very wide practical streak in me somewhere. I think I get it from my dad, (he didn’t make a will either though!). It needed updating though as it was made in 2019 and things change. I called my lawyer first thing and we started the changes I wanted to make. He was great, he even came over to the house for me to sign the final papers as I was feeling pretty miserable for a while. Easy, peasy and it put my mind somewhat at rest.
It makes it easier to focus on me and my cancer when I know the paperwork is done. When I made the new will I also made a Personal Directive and an Enduring Power of Attorney. This way I knew that my wishes would be carried out on how matters would go if I was ever incapacitated and couldn’t make decisions for myself. My decisions were all down on paper legally.
Now I’m looking into the MAID law in Alberta. MAID stands for “Medical Assistance in Dying”.
MAID is a healthcare option available to Albertans at the end of life. It allows a capable adult suffering from a grievous and irremediable medical condition to voluntarily request medicine that will bring about their death.
Alberta Health Services
This type of law has always been controversial. I agree with it though. I think people should have a choice if they are faced with a terminal illness. I refuse to suffer needlessly. I refuse to linger in some hospice room slowly dying and in pain. I refuse to become a vegetable just being kept alive by machines. When it’s time to go, I will know and I want to be able to make that decision while still in my right mind. I want the final say, not machines or strangers.
Of course, I don’t plan on having to use this option for quite a while. So far the treatments are working and I will hold this course for as long as I can. It’s just reassuring to me that I do have this option.
For now, I’m not going anywhere. You are stuck with me for a while longer. Until next time, stay happy my friends. I love you all.
What is immunotherapy and how does it play a role in my cancer journey?
Immunotherapy is a cancer treatment that uses your body’s immune system to find and destroy cancer cells. Your immune system identifies and destroys intruders, including cancerous cells. Immunotherapy boosts your immune system so it can do more to find and kill cancer cells.
Immunotherapy for cancer is a very effective treatment that may help some cancer patients live longer.Â
I’m getting the “checkpoint inhibitors” type of immunotherapy. Which is this:
Your immune system is a powerful defense system — sometimes too powerful. Your body has checkpoints to keep your immune system from overreacting to intruders and damaging healthy cells.
For example, your bone marrow makes white blood cells called T lymphocytes, or T-cells. T-cells protect your body from infection and tackle cancer cells. Immune checkpoints connect with proteins on the surface of T-cells.
How checkpoint inhibitors work
Checkpoint proteins and other proteins manage the flow of signals to T-cells, telling the cells when to turn off and on. (Think traffic monitors that manage traffic flow by switching traffic lights off and on.) T-cells turn on to kill cancerous cells. They turn off so they don’t damage normal cells.
Checkpoint inhibitors are immunotherapy drugs that work by breaking the connection between the checkpoint proteins and other proteins. Breaking the connection keeps protein cells from telling T-cells to turn off. That way, T-cells keep on killing cancerous cells.
Cancer Centre
I get these treatments every three weeks. I’ve had two so far. I get them at the cancer center via intravenous or IV system. I get an IV put into my arm at every treatment visit and receive the drugs in my blood system. It doesn’t hurt, well sometimes inserting the IV hurts but otherwise, you don’t feel a thing.
I get two different drugs. They are called Lpilimumab and Nivolumbab. For the first treatment, I got both drugs. The second I got Nivolumbab and on my third treatment, I will get both again. This goes on until it stops helping which can last a couple of years. A small price to pay if it extends my life for those years.
Are there side effects?
Oh yeah, there are! Of course, not everyone is the same. Some people get fewer side effects. Some get more. Some people don’t show any side effects for months after the first treatment. It just depends on the person and how the body accepts the drugs.
I started getting side effects the second week after my first treatment. Oh boy did I! Some like skin rashes are just irritating. (Yes, I got the skin rashes first)
Then I started getting open sores. In my mouth, on my wrist and hand where I had previous small sores before treatments. I also got sores in other, um, private places. It made my life hell. I’m not going to lie. I won’t downplay the side effects either. They were/are awful!
I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t eat, I could barely drink water the sores were so bad! They were ‘weepy’ and bloody and were just all-around uncomfortable. Being a diabetic, I needed to eat but it was so painful I had a really hard time of it. My left foot swelled to twice its size, and I developed a lump on my right calf. If it wasn’t swollen, it was itchy or bleeding. I looked and felt like a zombie with flesh falling off!
I was also fighting high blood sugar and high blood pressure. It got so bad I was ready to just call it quits. To say the hell with it. I’ll just lie down and die. I didn’t of course. I’m made of tougher stuff than that. I finally called the cancer center and talked with the head nurse of my cancer doctor. She in turn, talked to the doctor and he decided to give me a ‘rest’. He prescribed some pills that would stop my immune system to let my body recover.
I took those for five days and even on the first day it made a huge difference! I started to feel better and my sores started to heal. I let out a big sigh of relief and had a good sleep that first night. It was so good to start to feel like myself again.
You would think with my immune system in overdrive that sores and rashes wouldn’t happen. The body is a strange and wonderful thing. When it goes into full-force mode, it does all sorts of weird things to you.
Once I took all five days of pills I noticed the sores were starting to come back. So were the itchy rashes. I thought to myself…..”Oh no! Here we go again!”
There is some good news though!! I had my appointment with the cancer doctor yesterday and he told me that people who developed side effects quickly and harshly like I did tend to have a longer life span with my type of cancer! Holy shitballs Batman! It was actually a GOOD thing I got all those nasty side effects!! Who would have thought???
Also, since my doctor is a very good doctor AND compassionate he put me back on the “stop” pills for another 15 days! He said he wanted me completely healed before my next treatment, which he put off until then! Yea!!!
Now at least I will be past the zombie phase until my next treatment which will be sometime in July. So cheers to me!
Goes to show, that even when you are at the lowest point, there is hope. I gathered that hope close to my heart yesterday and am hanging on tight……….
I was going to write about immunotherapy today but decided to write about how it felt emotionally when I heard the dreaded “C” word. Believe me, it’s one scary word. No one wants to hear they have cancer. NO ONE.
I had known something was wrong with me for quite a while before I was diagnosed. My stomach was swollen and hard, and my tummy got upset with anything I drank or ate. I just felt, “off”. I had visited my family doctor a few times and complained about the stomach issues and that I bruised super easy and that I had sores that wouldn’t heal. He, unfortunately, brushed it off as me being older and diabetic.
I went with that but I knew deep inside I had something else wrong with me. Cancer does run in my family so it was always in the back of my mind. I kind of just blocked it out.
When I was rushed to the ER that one fateful day, I didn’t have cancer on my mind. I thought I was having a heart attack. My blood pressure was well over 200, and I had chest pains and difficulty breathing. I was scared. Sometimes I think back on that night and wish it would have been heart problems. At least that might have been fixed.
Mesothelioma can’t be fixed. It’s incurable. It’s a death sentence.
When I was in the ER they took a CT scan of my heart, lungs, and stomach. That’s when they found the fluid buildup which was in turn causing my chest pains and breathing problems. They also knew it wasn’t a heart attack and with that kind of fluid, it was some kind of cancer. They sent me home with my promise that I would follow up with my family doctor ASAP. Which I did.
My family doctor ordered another CT scan specifically looking for masses, tumors, or what they call ascites. Ascites are really the fluid buildup around your organs. Ascites caused by cancer most often occur with advanced or recurrent cancer. An ultrasound was also ordered which I had about a week later. With that, they again look for masses or anything unusual on the organs.
Long story short, after the tests I was diagnosed with Mesothelioma. As I said in an earlier post I was devasted.
The emotions were a tidal wave at first. It’s all you can think of day and night. Oh man, the nights are the worst. I lay in bed and had so many thoughts tumble around my head. Silent tears dripped into my pillows.
I remember not ever breaking down in the doctor’s office or at the hospital. I waited until I got home and was alone. Then, oh wow, then it came. Wave after wave of emotion, one bigger and stronger than the next. I cried until I thought I had no tears left. I didn’t want to die! Why is this happening to me! Why!??? Why!??? Why!????
Then the calmness came. Gentle, almost reassuring. I remember thinking that THIS was not helping, this crying and wailing to the universe. It wouldn’t change anything. I was dying. Well, hell we are all dying. It’s just I was dying a hell of a lot sooner than I wanted to. I was dying of an ugly disease. I didn’t want to die. I still don’t.
It is what it is though. It’s going to happen. Until then though, I fight. Because that’s what I do. When I get cornered, I fight. So bring it on!
Do I still cry? Hell YES! I have my down days where I cry buckets. I was just getting used to living alone without my late husband. I was just getting used to that new normal when this new normal was shoved in my face. So, yes, I still have my days where all I seem to do is cry.
Am I scared?
Surprisingly enough, no. I’m not. I’m not afraid of dying. As a very good friend of mine said……”I’m not afraid of dying, I’m afraid of the PROCESS of dying.” She’s right. That’s exactly how I feel. The process is an ugly, dark, and scary thing. It’s painful. So much pain. So many side effects of the strong drugs they use.
As for death itself? Not so scary. Maybe it’s because, in my heart of hearts, I know it’s not the end. It’s another beginning. A new adventure.
It took a couple of months for specialists in Lethbridge and Calgary to come to a definitive diagnosis of which cancer I had. I believe it was because mesothelioma is so rare here, especially in women that they wanted to really make sure it was right.
I went through lots of blood tests and two procedures to drain the liquid around my lungs and stomach so they could compare the liquid, it was a scary, stressful time. I knew I had cancer and I also knew what they were looking for. My family doctor had already told me what they thought I had, so yes, I knew what they were looking for and it scared me.
As for the procedures, they were scary but once done they weren’t so bad. I think I had just built them up in my mind to be these big, bad, scary things that I scared myself more than anything. The doctors and nurses were great and very reassuring. They walked me through everything that was going to happen and were very gentle. Well, as gentle as they can be when inserting tubes in your body while you are wide awake and aware of what’s going on.
The two procedures I had done are called:
Thoracentesis
Thoracentesis is a procedure to remove fluid or air from around the lungs. A needle is put through the chest wall into the pleural space. The pleural space is the thin gap between the pleura of the lung and of the inner chest wall. The pleura is a double layer of membranes that surrounds the lungs.
Inside the space is a small amount of fluid. The fluid prevents the pleura from rubbing together when you breathe. Excess fluid in the pleural space is called pleural effusion. When this happens, it’s harder to breathe because the lungs can’t inflate fully. This can cause shortness of breath and pain. These symptoms may be worse with physical activity.
You will be in a sitting position in a hospital bed. Your arms will be resting on an over-bed table. This position helps to spread out the spaces between the ribs, where the needle is inserted.
The skin where the needle will be put in will be cleaned with an antiseptic solution.
A numbing medicine (local anesthetic) will be injected in the area.
When the area is numb, the healthcare provider will put a needle between the ribs in your back. You may feel some pressure where the needle goes in. Fluid will slowly be withdrawn into the needle.
You will be asked to hold still, breathe out deeply, or hold your breath at certain times during the procedure.
You may have a chest X-ray taken right after the procedure. This is to make sure your lungs are OK. Yeah, I did indeed have an X-ray done.
John Hopkins Hospital
paracentesis
Doctors typically perform a paracentesis in a hospital, outpatient clinic or their office. The procedure takes about 45 minutes.
For the procedure, you lie down in a bed with your head raised. Your abdomen area is exposed and cleaned, and a numbing medicine is applied. (The medicine may cause you to feel some stinging.) Next, a needle is inserted about an inch or two into the abdomen. The doctor may need to make a small cut to help with needle insertion.
The doctor then removes fluid with a syringe. It’s normal to feel lightheaded if the doctor is removing a lot of fluid, but let your care team know if you experience this feeling.
When the procedure is over, the incision site is bandaged. If a cut was made, the doctor may close it with one or two stitches.
City of Hope Cancer Care
This last one hurt the most. The doctor had to literally punch the catheter into the area. That knocked the wind out me for sure. It was over quickly and again the nurses were wonderful and the doctor apologized for having to punch me. Eh, it is what it is. I have to admit once the fluid was drained I felt so much more comfortable and my stomach shrunk.
The procedures were done about a week apart. They were sent off to Calgary where they have the necessary experts and equipment to analyze and compare the two fluids, they did and within a few days we had our confirmation that it was indeed mesothelioma.
After that things went pretty quickly. I was set up with a cancer doctor at the Cancer Center and had my first appointment to meet him within another week. That’s when he explained to me my treatment of immunotherapy for the cancer. He assured me he has had really good success in giving his patients a longer lifespan with this treatment.
He’s supposed to be one of the best cancer doctors here and he seems very laid back and unshakable. I like him.
My next post will explain immunotherapy and how it went after my first two treatments. I get them every three weeks. It gets a bit gruesome I have to admit. Interesting but graphic in many ways.
I hope you continue your journey with me on my Last Chapter. If you have any questions so far please feel free to contact me either through the comments section or through my contact page.
I’ll talk to you next week. Stay healthy my friends. Love to all.
To my few (and I do mean few) loyal readers, thank you for stopping in every week. As for last weeks story, it was……false!
Not to say I haven’t heard ghostly footsteps before, or even seen them! Just not like I said in my story. One day I will write about how it came about that I actually saw them. Just not today. Or last week. ha!
Anyway, on to this weeks story. Is it Truth or Fiction? You tell me.
via Pixabay
A Good Deed
She had heard from a friend about a dog in need. Everyone knew how much she loved animals and this friend was very concerned about this dog. It was her friends’ neighbors dog. Tied up in the backyard with a heavy chain. No food, no water…in the middle of summer. Also, they were having an unusually hot summer, even for this hellish place.
Her friend said she tried talking to the neighbor and offered to take the dog off his hands. But no go. The neighbor wasn’t giving up the dog even if it was painfully (for the dog) obvious he wasn’t taking proper care of it. Half the time this guy wasn’t even home. Who knows how often, if ever, the dog got fed and watered. Her friend said she had been living next door for six months and never saw the dog off the chain. Once she thought she heard the man beating the dog but by the time she got outside the man was gone and the dog was shaking and crying. She felt terrible for days afterward.
The friend reported the man to the Humane Society but no one ever came to investigate. Short staffed they told her. So that’s why she told her story to her, in tears, not knowing who else to turn to.
That same night, after her friend’s tear-filled story, she went to see the dog for herself. She wasn’t sure what she expected but it sure wasn’t the pitiful sight she saw. The man should be shot! Treating any animal this way. She peered over the back fence and in the bright moonlight could make out the form of the dog cowering away from her as far as its heavy chain would let it. It didn’t bark, didn’t whine, didn’t make a sound. Which made the sight of it all the more powerful in her eyes.
She pulled out the small binoculars from her pants pocket and held them up to her eyes with one hand while she stood unsteadily on the stool she brought with her just for this reason. It was 2 am in the morning and the small breeze touching her cheek was still on the hot side. Even at night, there was no relief of the unrelenting heat. The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Just a few street lights dotted the overgrown alley she had parked in. She was glad the dog didn’t bark but her heart broke knowing it didn’t bark because it had probably been beaten too often for doing just that. She slowly looked around the backyard. No doghouse, no tree or bush for shade in the middle of the day. She didn’t see any water or food dishes which made her angry. Just the poor dog chained up with a chain that was stuck in the ground with a heavy metal stake.
As she looked at the dog, her breath sucked in and tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Taking that closer look she could see the dog was in pain. It must be in terrible pain she thought to herself. She couldn’t see the chain that was around its neck. She couldn’t see it as it was embedded in its neck! Oh my god! The chain had been wrapped around its neck so tight that it wasn’t even visible! It clearly wasn’t hidden by rolls of fat either as the dog clearly looked malnourished and skinny.
From what she could see in the moonlight the dog was a beagle or of beagle mix. It was medium in size but so skinny it broke her heart. Tonight was to have been just a reconnaissance sort of mission. Now though, she knew she had to get that dog tonight! If she could do anything about it that poor animal was NOT spending another moment in that yard with that chain and in such misery. She was going to rescue it tonight.
She stepped down off the stool and went to the back of her car. From the trunk, she pulled out a set of bolt cutters. She had put them in her car earlier. She had learned a long time ago to go to these rescues prepared for emergencies. This definitely was an emergency situation. She tossed them over the fence then thought….”How am I going to climb over the fence with a dog in my arms?” This was more of a two-person operation but she was by herself and there was no one she could call at 2 AM.
Her mind worked furiously to come up with a solution to her problem. Even if she could call someone she didn’t want one of her friends to chance getting caught helping her and being arrested for stealing. No, she had to do this on her own and it had to be tonight!
Her eyes spotted the two old blankets she had in her car. She always kept one or two for picking up injured animals from the side of the road. Which she had done a few times.
What if she fashioned some kind of sling? She could put the dog in the sling and with her hands free, climb back over the fence. Perfect! She grabbed the bigger of the two blankets and quickly tied two opposite corners together and slung it over her shoulder. Now, back to the rescue.
Stepping onto the stool she grabbed the top of the wooden fence and hauled her body over the top and dropped the few inches to the ground. She stood to make sure nothing was changed in the quiet of the night then when she was satisfied with the silence she grabbed the bolt cutters and walked quickly to the dog. Her heart broke as the dog just whimpered and shook and strained on his chain. It must be in so much pain from the embedded chain yet still tried to get away from a potential threat.
She crouched down in front of the dog and slowly held out her hand for it to sniff. Softly talking to it she took her time so as not to scare the dog further, even though she could be caught at any time. The dogs fear was palpable. It was heartbreaking. She slowly reached in her pocket for a dog treat. A nice soft one, as she didn’t know how well it could eat just yet. The dog stopped whining but still shook with fear as it sniffed the treat. Its hunger overcame its fear and it took the treat from her hand and ate it with a few chomps. It whimpered a bit, either from the pain of swallowing or from gratefulness of having something to eat. She wasn’t sure.
The woman took precious seconds to pet and reassure the dog in soft words as she slowly lifted the bolt cutters and cut the chain. The dog winced a bit when it was done but moved closer to the woman in seemingly understanding of what the woman was about. She gently and slowly lifted the dog in her arms, all the while talking in soft warm tones to it to reassure it. She settled the dog in the sling and cradled it to her body as a mother would cradle a baby.
She picked up the fallen bolt cutters and walked quickly to the back fence. Now came the tricky part. Getting over the fence with the dog without hurting it any further. Taking a deep breath she gave a little jump and grabbed the top of the fence. She never really was very athletic and in that instant regretted it. She was determined though and with anger still burning in her heart for the mistreatment of the dog she hauled her body to the top of the fence and threw a leg over. The dog whimpered either in pain, fear, or both but didn’t struggle in the sling.
Once her leg was over the fence the rest was easy. She did manage to scrape her forearms climbing over the fence but didn’t even feel it for the adrenaline coursing through her body. Once over the fence, she grabbed the bolt cutters and stool and as fast as she could she tossed them in the trunk and closed it. She ran to the passenger side of the car and settled the dog on the passenger seat still inside the sling. Closing the door as softly as she could she quickly made her way to the drivers’ side, slid in and turned the car on and drove out of the alley.
She didn’t seem to breathe until she was safely inside her garage with the door down. No matter how many times she rescued an animal there was always that chance she could get caught. The adrenaline rush seemed to leave her then and she broke down crying. The dog in the passenger side whimpered and tried to crawl into her lap. It seemed to understand and appreciate all she had done for it.
Even though it was in pain, hungry and scared it sensed that she had just done a good thing for it and was trying to make HER feel better. Animals are like that. Full of love given the chance. Now, this dog had that chance.
Is this story Truth or Fiction? Have you ever rescued an animal in need? If so tell me about it!Â
Hello everyone and welcome to another week of Truth or Fiction. The comments and guesses were split last week. Was the story true or fiction?
Truth! Yes, it really did happen. I was living in Texas at the time with the ex. We lived next to a field of cows and yes, one cow was having trouble giving birth so we helped it out as it was a life or death situation for the poor cow. The only difference in the story was my ex actually did the turning of the calf. We did use dish soap and one of our dogs alerted us to the cow. According to the rancher, the dish soap didn’t harm the cow or calf. I didn’t think it would (it was my idea) as most of it seemed to come out of the cow with the birth.
About the only redeeming quality of my ex was that he was good to animals. His marriage skills needed the work.
Thank you once again to those of you who joined me last week. Now, let’s see what this week’s story is about.
Pixabay
Lessons To Learn
“The way you flirt is shameful.”
I laughed, “That wasn’t flirting. That was just being friendly.”
“You always do that to get your way. Flirt. It’s second nature to you.”
“I wasn’t flirting!”
Turning my chair towards my co-worker, I frowned and wondered what got her panties in a twist this morning. Millie was usually so cheerful and upbeat but today she seemed to complain about everything. I saw her eyes fill up with tears and her lower lip tremble. Yes, definitely something was wrong with her.
“Millie? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She turned away from me and her shoulders hunched over her desk. Walking over to her I put my hand on her shoulder and asked her again what was wrong.
“Everything!”, she cried. “My whole life is a mess and nobody cares.”
Usually, I run away from such dramatics. Stresses me out but this was Millie and since coming to work for this company she has always been a constant source of smiles and cheerfulness. Until today. Something had to be seriously wrong for her to turn into this mess of tears and drama.
“Come on, Mill, tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m in love and I hate it!” And with that statement, she went into full-blown, snot forming, eye swelling, red nose crying.
“Well, usually being in love is a good thing. So, I take it he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings?”
“I don’t know!”, she wailed. “I’ve never talked to him.”
That statement set me back a second. Never talked to him? Who was this love of her life and why in hell has Miss Never Knew a Stranger never talked to him? The mystery deepens.
“Ok, hold on a second. You are in love with someone you never talked to? Am I correct?”
Snuffling into her kleenex she nodded her head.
“Um, Mill…is this a real person? Or is this a character in one of your favorite books?” I was just checking for accuracy because with Millie it could be either.
“Of course he’s real.” And with that statement, she went off into another round of tears.
“OK, ok. Just wanted to make sure I got my facts straight.” I patted her shoulder and the tears slowed down. “So tell me why you two have never talked and where you met this man.”
“We haven’t met. That’s the problem. I see him every morning in the coffee shop I stop at on the way to work. He’s cute and I love him.” She looked at me, almost like she was challenging me to say something smart-alecky. I didn’t.
I could see this man meant a lot to her even if they never exchanged a word.
“Why don’t you start a conversation? You always do here. You never seem to have nothing to say to anyone who comes in the office.”
“This is different. I don’t love the people who come into the office so I don’t worry if I look like a fool to them.”
“Ahhh, I see.” I did too. It’s always just a little harder to talk to someone if you’re always worried about how they view you.
“I want to be like you. I want to be able to flirt and not care what others think. I want to flirt with HIM but I don’t know how.”
With that statement, the tears started to flow once again. Then an idea came to me.
“Millie, what if I teach you how to flirt? You could flirt with him and win his love!” I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it but I needed to stop the tears again. Good thing it was a slow day at work or this could have gotten really embarrassing fast.
“Is something like that teachable?” Millie asked with doubt in her voice. Hell if I knew, but if it stopped her from crying I’d give it a shot. I thought to myself, well how hard could it be? A slow smile at him, a longish look. Sure that’s teachable, wasn’t it?
We would soon find out.
Ok folks, is this story true or is it fiction? Let me know! Do you think flirting is something that can be taught? Or is it something someone is born with?Â
Welcome, everyone! Last week’s story seemed to be a mind game as only one person guessed right. It was FICTION. Yeah, I wish it had been true. I’ve always wanted to stay in a big fancy haunted house but I haven’t. One person, Bill, did pick up that the main character grew up in a place that was haunted, just as I did. So good on you, Bill! Unfortunately, that was the only truth in the whole story and really, I didn’t put it there intentionally. Just seemed a good addition to the story.
Now let’s get going on the next edition of Truth or Fiction. Is it true or a figment of my imagination?
Pixabay
Giving a Helping Hand
Her dog Molly kept pacing the living room and whining. She shushed her once but the pacing just got more frantic. What on earth was wrong with the dog? Molly was usually such a good companion and would lay quietly at her feet but not today. She’d never get those columns of numbers added right with Molly distracting her.
“What is it, Molly? What’s wrong?”
Molly faced the front door and whined. Maybe she needed to go out? Sighing heavily, she pushed herself out of her chair and opened the front door. The sunshine blinded her for a minute and the heat of the afternoon surrounded her, making her instantly regret leaving the air conditioning behind as the door closed behind her.
She hoped Molly wouldn’t take too long to finish her personal business as she needed to get those numbers added and the account books finished for her favorite client. Accounting paid the bills and playing with numbers was always fun.
She smiled as she looked around for Molly. The countryside was brown and dry but the trees still showed a bit of green. This summer had been unduly hot and dry and the usual beauty of the surrounding fields and trees were dulled with brown grasses slowly dying of thirst. She moved to the country after her divorce. It was just her and Molly, her German Shepherd and constant companion. She enjoyed the quiet of the country after the heartbreak she endured in the city last year. Here, she was able to heal and even grow happy again. Just her and Molly.
Thinking of Molly…where was she? Looking around her ears finally picked up the sound of a cow lowing. She knew a ranch owned the fields next to her and they ran cows on them. She had to teach Molly not to be afraid of the cows when she first moved here. Now Molly usually ignored them. They weren’t fun to play with. As she scanned the field for Molly the mooing of the cow seemed more frantic. Almost painful.
Under a large tree, she spotted Molly, once again frantically pacing back and forth in front of a large mound. No, wait, it wasn’t just a mound it was a heifer. She was laying down and making those awful, pain filled mooing sounds. She called for Molly but the dog refused to leave the cow’s side. Something must be wrong, she thought. Molly was acting frantic and the sounds coming from the cow were almost sounding like screams.
Scrabbling over the wooden fence dividing her front yard from the field she ran to where Molly and cow were. What she saw made her suck in her breath and widen her eyes. The cow was laying on her side, her belly swollen huge with pregnancy. She could see the distress in the cows’ eyes as she once again let out that distressing moo/scream. Even to her untrained eye, she could see the heifer was trying to deliver her calf but something was wrong.
She needed to call someone. Who? She couldn’t just leave the poor suffering animal to die. Something was wrong with the birth and she needed help desperately. When the cow gave another loud moo and turned her head to look at her, she could see the pleading in its eyes. She needed to do something fast. The cow didn’t have time to wait for someone. She needed help now!
“Think girl, think! What should I do?”
Then she remembered an article she read a long time ago. When she was much younger she thought about becoming a vet and so she read anything she could on animal care and what should be done if a dog was having a breech birth. She was certain this is what was happening to the cow. The calf needed to be turned so it could come out the right way.
She thought, “Well, a birth is a birth, it can’t be that different from a dog could it?”Â
Racing back to the house she wondered what she could use as a lubricant. She needed to stick her hand inside the cow and turn the calf. It wasn’t going to be easy but she had to try. Coming to stop inside the kitchen she frantically looked around. Butter? She didn’t have enough. Her eye fell on the brand new bottle of dishwashing liquid. That would make her hand slippery! She grabbed the bottle and a spare bath towel she had left over the kitchen chair earlier that day and sped back to the cow and Molly.
Molly hadn’t left the cow’s side. It was as if she knew what was going on and knew the cow needed her. Molly laid next to the cow and whined comfort to it.
“Good girl Molly. You keep comforting her while I see what I can do on this end.”
Taking a deep breath she quickly opened the bottle of dishwashing soap and spread a thick layer over her arms and hands. She tried to ignore the large strong hoofs and the sticky puddle of blood as she slowly shoved one hand into the cow. She could feel the calf and yes she had guessed right. It was a breech birth. The calf needed to be turned. It should come out head and front feet first and this one was turned just enough it wasn’t coming out that way.
She was going to need both hands to turn the calf. She wasn’t strong enough one-armed to do it. The cow seemed to know she was trying to help as the mooing stopped and the cow lay still, only once lifting her head to look at her. As if saying, “You can do this.”
Slipping her other arm inside she managed to find the front legs and grasp them. She didn’t need to move them far just a few inches to the side to line them up to the opening so hopefully, the mother had enough energy to push it out.
She felt the head and the front legs and gave a tug on the legs. At first, she didn’t think it was going to work, but then with one great effort, the mother cow pushed while she tugged and suddenly she had a newborn calf in her lap. She took the bath towel and wiped the gunk from the calf’s eyes, nostrils and mouth so it could breathe. Normally, the mother did this but this mother was too tired and so appreciated the help.
She didn’t know she was crying until Molly came over and first licked her tears then started to lick the calf. Those had to have been the most intense, emotional minutes of her life. She dragged the calf who was laying on the towel over to the mother’s head to show her that her baby was alive and well. The mom started licking it and making snuffling sounds.
“Come on Molly. We still need to call the rancher and let him know what happened so he can check up on mother and baby. Plus I need a shower.”Â
Later that day the rancher stopped by to thank her for helping the cow and to let her know that both were healthy and fit.
“Well, Molly. A good deed was done today. Let’s just hope there will be no repeat!”
Ok, folks. Was this based on truth? Or was it a complete piece of fiction? What would you have done if you came across an animal in need like in the story?
Hello everyone! Yes, I know it’s been a very long time since I posted anything. Since early March, actually. Why? Because life sometimes has a way of making me so tired. Things have straightened out a bit since then. I’m at a new ‘normal’ around here.
Quick catch up, then I’ll get to this new post. Most of you will remember the health problems of the husband in the past few years. First colon cancer, got that beat as he is now officially three years cancer free! Then he had a stroke in late October of last year. He’s still getting over that one. There have been a few stays in the hospital for pneumonia here and there but he seems to be stable now. Thank goodness. Time to breath!
Life can be hard but I keep plodding along. As for me, I’ve had a terrible bout of insomnia since May. So yeah, I get kind of tired.
I’m back now. I do hope to stick around too. I don’t know how often I will post, I’m going to try for once a week and go from there. As to what I will post? Who the hell knows. We’ll see what happens.
Now, the reason for this post. Today is my birthday! Yeah, ok, keep the cheering down. I’m sixty-three today. Shit, that seems like such a big number! I hope to see sixty-four. My body feels like it’s ninety-three while my mind feels twenty-three yet. I’m young at heart people with an old woman’s outlook. Ha!
Anyway, my friend Mer had her 44th birthday last month and she came up with a post with 44 things she learned in her 44 years. So, thanks Mer, I’m stealing your idea!
Let’s get this party started!
63 Things I’ve Learned in 63 Years
No matter how broke you are….treat yourself sometimes
Age is a state of mind, not a number
A pet can save your sanity
Never just settle for a life partner, you won’t be happy and neither will they
Accept yourself….no other opinion means more
Drink lots of water
Life is going to throw you some curve balls….Learn to go with it, it all works out in the end
Getting hurt is part of life
Don’t trust someone your dog doesn’t like!
Life is damn short—-Live it!
Don’t hold grudges
If you have a life partner always have some of your own money tucked away, have your own bank account
If there is something you’ve always wanted to do….Do it! (Unless it hurts you or someone else)
Don’t be afraid to have your own ideas or beliefs, you don’t need to be the same as everyone else
Don’t be afraid of growing older, some of it sucks but some of its great.
It’s necessary for your wellbeing to say NO sometimes
Trust your gut instinct
Don’t do something or be someone to just please the family. They don’t live your life. You do!
If someone lies to you…..they will keep lying to you
Don’t be peer pressured or family pressured into having kids. If you don’t want them, don’t have them. The world will do just fine.
Once a cheater, always a cheater. Same goes for a spouse abuser. They won’t change no matter how much you think they will.
Act silly sometimes
You can’t herd cats very well
Always carry extra undies in your purse when traveling. (sorry guys, don’t know what you would do) That way when your luggage is lost you have clean undies for the next day. No one wants to put on the same undies two days in a row.
Also, when traveling keep extra cash on your person.
If you’re on a diet, don’t burn vanilla scented candles
Coffee is the worlds apology for making you get out of bed
Whoever decided grocery shopping online and delivery service was a good thing should be given an award! I love it!
Music really does soothe the soul
Be impulsive sometimes, it can lead to wonderful things
Tell the people who you love that you do love them. It might be the last chance you get
You don’t need a lot of friends
What friends you do have, let them know you appreciate them
Always use a grammar and spell check when writing…..saves some embarrassment
Read different things, even if you don’t think you will like the genre, sometimes you will be pleasantly surprised
Keep a positive attitude, it will bring about positive things in your life
You don’t need to be religious to be a good person
Swearing is not unladylike
Sometimes have a resting bitch face saves you from having to actually BE a bitch
There is nothing wrong with eating your favorite comfort food sometimes
I love my attitude
No matter how much advice you can give a person, they will only take what they think they need and not what they actually need
People usually don’t want that advice anyway, they just want to vent
I’ve learned that being unhappy with my life at times was my own fault and only I could change it
I’m fascinated by dragonflies
I still believe in that Christmas magic can happen
I have a young child’s awe of Mother Nature
I’ve learned that being the ‘quiet one’ is not a personality flaw
I’ve come to accept that I will never be thin and that’s ok with me
I know now that my happiness lies in me, not someone or something else
Making a list this long is damn hard!
I love challenging my mind. I think that’s what keeps me young
I prefer silence over noise or talking
You can learn a lot about someone just by observing them
I don’t forgive easily
I never forget either
People are generally nice given a chance
There are always exceptions to the rule
I still prefer animals over people
Trying to win approval from my mother was a lifelong difficulty and never truly achieved
I’m hard to love but worth the effort
If you were looking for deep, inspirational things from me you probably didn’t get it ….hahahaha
Maybe next year I will be wiser….I’ll be older, so there is that small chance
It’s hard to believe it’s been over a month since I posted anything. A part of me is so let down, another part just doesn’t care. I’m nothing if not honest, especially with myself. It’s not like I haven’t been around, I have. I visit some of my favorite blogs, I talk to some of my favorite people. I’m still here. I just haven’t been writing.
As for the personal side of things, well, it could be worse I guess. The husband is slowly on the mend from his stroke in late October. He’s been to so many specialists that I’ve lost count of them all. His mind is much clearer with different pain medications. So, for now, he is on the upswing. He had his 65th birthday on February 4th. Sad thing….his mother died on his birthday. She had dementia for the last few years of her life and didn’t know anyone at the end, but she was surrounded with family when she passed and I guess that’s all anyone can hope for.
The winter here has been snowy and cold and longer than usual it seems to me. Or, I’m just getting old and can’t handle it like I used to. I long for warmer weather and summer breezes. Today we’ve had freezing rain, sleet and now snow. Yeah, I’m so over winter.
To say I haven’t been writing is kind of a lie. Sorry about that. I have been writing, just not on here. I’m working on a new story and I’ve promised my best friend, Maddie that I was going to send it to her first to read and critique. I’m so rusty now that I want to make sure it’s ok before I post it here. So yes, I am writing, kind of. It’s a hit and miss kind of thing lately. Some days I write, some days I don’t.
Mostly my problem is I’m so damn tired. This time change stuff doesn’t help me either. I hate when they have daylight savings time. It messes my sleep up and I don’t need any more help with that.
I thought at one point of closing this blog down. I’ve been blogging for almost six years now and maybe I’ve run out of things to say or do on here. But, it’s obvious I haven’t shut it down. I can’t. I love the community here in blog land. I love knowing I’ve had this blog for so long. No, it’s not earth-shattering stuff on here. I’m not political. I don’t write deep, meaningful essays. But, I love it. I love the people I’ve met. I love the challenges. So, I’m keeping it. I’m hoping to get back into blogging more often and I appreciate everyone who has stuck with me thus far.
Life might be hard sometimes, it might be damn hard a few times but it’s my life and I’ll keep going for as long as I can. I’ll keep posting things. I’ll keep appreciating all the comments and friends I’ve made here. I’ll keep living life’s little ups and downs.
Hello, People! Yes, it’s really me. Been a while I know. I haven’t posted anything since November 9th. I think in the five or so years of blogging this is the longest I’ve gone without posting a thing.
Honestly, I just didn’t have the energy or want to. I felt/feel drained. Totally used up. It’s not a pleasant feeling.
It’s been a hard year, hell, it’s been a hard couple of years. No one’s fault. Just the way life is.
I find myself moody lately, my temper easily set off. I’m not a pleasant person to be around right now. Just ask the husband. I snap at him and everyone else. I’m super sarcastic and just awful, to tell the truth. Hell, I don’t even like myself.
I’m tired of life giving me the finger. I’m tired of dealing with one crisis after another. I’m tired of NOT writing. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of having to make all the decisions and deal with the repercussions of my decisions. I’m tired of dealing with people who treat me like I’m an idiot just because I’m old, a woman, short and fat or whatever reason.
I’m tired of some people treating me and the husband like we are lepers and have something they might catch just because the husband had a stroke and lost his hearing aids and can’t hear very good. Yes, he had a stroke. Yes, he gets confused sometimes, yes he walks bent over like an old man, yes, he repeats himself……a lot. Yes, he’s sick and his next stroke might be his last. And ok, maybe you don’t like me personally. I’m fine with that. You don’t have to like me. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.
BUT……he’s still alive, he’s still talking, eating, walking, carrying on conversations (limited I know but still doing it). Yet he gets ignored and left alone and there is nothing I can do about it. I realize people have their own lives to live. That is no reason to forget about someone who is supposed to be a friend or relative.
I just don’t understand people. Maybe that’s why I don’t like most people.
Whew! That was quite a rant. I have felt it boiling up in me for weeks. Maybe I’ll feel better now that I’ve ‘blown’ so to speak. Maybe not.
Now that my rant is out of the way. And no, I’m not apologizing for it. It is how I feel. I don’t tell people how I REALLY feel often enough. That might change.
As for the husband. He’s still weak. Still can’t use his right hand. But, he does seem to be getting stronger. God knows he’s more stubborn. Some days are good and he can carry on conversations and stay with it. Some days not so much. Some days he’s super argumentative. Some days happy and joking around like he used to. It’s a bit of a roller coaster ride.
As for this blog. I’m continuing it. I’ll be writing more (fingers crossed). I’m not sure what I will be writing. I’m hoping more stories, more fiction, more poetry (even bad poetry) and fewer rants and raves.
I’m needing to get back to writing. It helps ground me.
I’m not trying to find the old me. She’s gone. Like the past year, gone forever. I am looking to find the new me. The one that is a bit wiser. A bit more settled. A bit happier.
I want to thank all my friends who have asked after me. Asked about the husband. And never judge.
I want to thank all the readers who no matter how erratic my posting was, read what I wrote.
I want to thank everyone who will be back again next year to help me grow into a better person, friend, and writer. It’s good to have you with me.
You’re probably wondering about the title of this post, eh? I know it’s kind of strange but all will become clear soon.
As many of you know, my husband had a stroke about three weeks ago. After battling cancer and a bad back, now this. He’s had a rough five or six years. He’s one tough man. Although I think he’s met his match this time.
The stroke left his right arm and hand almost useless. Which for him is very frustrating as it’s, of course, his prominent hand. At the best of times, this is a man with very little patience. Now, oh boy, he’s frustrated as hell.
We learned when he was in the hospital that this is actually his third stroke. He has had two prior ones we didn’t know about. This last one also occurred in the exact same some spot of the brain as the last one. I don’t know how that works on the brain with strokes but it was my understanding this one on top of the other is not that common.
Leave it to him to be different.
It’s also usual to have a stroke and then have the opposite side of your body affected. Again, the husband has to be different. The strokes all happened to his right side of the brain and affected the RIGHT side of his body. Most unusual.
I’ve noticed some changes in his personality since the stroke. I would guess this is normal. They are a bit subtle but there nonetheless. After his stroke, the doctors changed his pain meds. He was taking oxycodone. Now he’s on Hydromorphone which is derivative of morphine. It actually seems to work better for him.
When I brought him home last Friday I thought I could handle it. I figured it wasn’t going to be much different from what it normally is. I had to do pretty much everything then, I figured how much can it change? Oh, how naive I was!
I have to dress him, help him eat (usually just cut up big pieces for him) and other, personal things. I won’t go into detail. Just let’s say his personal space is no more. Sigh.
It’s damn hard. On me, mostly. Especially when he falls, which he has done three times last week. The most recent one was this morning. At 3 am, I finally broke down and called 911 as I knew there was no way I could get him up off the floor by myself. He fell outside the bathroom which is a narrow hallway. He is too weak to help much. His legs don’t want to work right and without his one hand and arm, well forget it. He wasn’t getting up.
The other times he was in the living room and I could maneuver his walker to him so between the walker and me we got him up. That was not going to work this morning.
This is where Sam, the wonder dog comes in. Now, Sam is just a little guy. Weighing in at about nine pounds, ten at the most. He sleeps with me in my bedroom, always has. My bedroom is on one end of the house. I keep my door closed as I can’t sleep if I hear the tv. Which for the husband has to be on 24/7. I also have to sleep in a cold room with a fan going.
Sam, the art of a loyal buddy (c) JLPhillips 2013
The husband has a bed in the living room. Which is right next to my bedroom. Unfortunately, I still cannot hear him if he falls. Sam lets me know when the husband falls. Which is strange because the husband has fallen before he had the stroke and Sam never let me know. But now, he wakes me up. I think he realizes it’s more important now then it was before. As before the husband could usually get back up himself and him falling happened rarely.
Even when he fell in the hallway this morning, Sam woke me up. He is my little hero. I walked out to the living room and noticed that the husband’s bed was empty. Sam took off to the hallway so I knew to follow and that’s where I found the husband. Poor man, he’s kind of banged up on this one. He has a cut over one eye and bruises.
He managed to take his walker to the bathroom but for some reason decided to try to get back to bed without it. Didn’t work well. Down he went. He doesn’t remember how long he was on the floor, just knew it had been a while.
There is, however, a tiny little ray of hope in all this. I believe I have found the main reason he has been falling. It only happens in the middle of the night. And only when he takes two sleeping pills. So……I did a little experiment this past week. For a couple of nights, I only gave him one sleeping pill. (Much to his disgust). Those nights he DIDN’T fall. He managed to get up, go the bathroom and get back to bed in one piece. Last night he insisted I give him two sleeping pills. He fell.
No more two sleeping pills a night. I even talked to the home nurse yesterday and she agreed with me, that it was possibly the sleeping pills that are making him fall. As far as I’m concerned, last night proved my theory.
My gut told me this was the case, I always listen to my gut.
So this has been our life lately.
As for me, personally. I’m tired. I’m more than tired. I’m exhausted. But, I will go on and do what I must because no one else is going to do it for me. The husband is a good man, whose had a bad run of luck on his health. I will be there for him.
That’s the least I can do.
As for Sam, he got an extra treat today. Good boy, Sam!
The Last Chapter 