Outta Gas

Yep. I've run outta gas. And my brain doesn't work well either. I've come to the conclusion that being 60 and running after 2 year olds for hours on end might be good for aerobic exercise and all the attendant benefits, but seriously, my clock seems to be losing power somewhere along the trail.

Since last post a plethora of things have occurred. I'm not sure I can remember them in detail, or even in sequence, but I'm now totally outta my league. At the age where some folks used to think about getting off the merry-go-round and settling down to retirement is so far removed from my reality . . . Maybe I'm just winded!?!

I love watching my grandson that's 2. He counts his toes, cars, blocks, correctly identifies shapes and colors and is the sweetest of little guys--till he feels thwarted in some form or fashion--and if you're familiar with the movie The Incredibles, you'll know why the picture of Jack-Jack might come to mind. For a pint-sized person, he's got more stamina, grit and energy that the law should allow! He's without fear, and nearly impervious to pain. And no fat, just muscle--except in his fat little cheeks.) But his little face is so precious and sweet, his voice matches, and he gives sweet kisses and hugs . . . it's just hard to reconcile with his "other side" sometimes!

His older siblings have their good and bad sides, too. (Don't we all?) And they are a joy to behold--most of the time. I just need to find some really good ear plugs. They're so exuberant that what they say often explodes from their young throats. Of course, I could tell you that I, myself, was often spoken of as "very shy" in my early years--up to maybe the age of 15 or 16--(backward would probably more closely describe me then) but I remember the multiple, multiple times I was warned by my parents that I was being "too loud"! And to "Quiet down!" I guess those of us who have joy in living and an excitement about our daily discoveries can be a little overwhelming for those not in the same place. At the same time, why does diminishing hearing not kick in when it's most needed for myself and others who are past 60? I still say--as I did when my children were much younger: someone needs to invent a volume control--complete with a parental remote control device; oh, and add a speed control (for those fast little legs they have) as well.

Okay. I'm not going to weigh you down with the myriad other things in our basket at this time. Heaven forbid I should bore you, right?

I'm going to bed. I'm tired, pooped, well . . . yeah. Outta gas. Pfsssssssssssssssst. " 'Nite, ya'll."

Not Hiding

It's late. I've checked on my blog friends to see what they're up to. Didn't comment. But had pleasant visits catching up. I haven't exactly been hiding. Just overwhelmed with everything going on. Husband's still having some health issues. Don't know if they're related to the heart meds and/or implanted computer to keep his ticker ticking. Who knows?

But we have two daughters coming. In the next few days. One is bringing three very young and lively children ages 2, 4, and almost 6. The other is bringing one--expected to arrive on my birthday in January! It will be great to have all 4 children "home" once again for a while.

HOWEVER . . . I've been cleaning house like a mad woman. I've let things build up over sixty-leventy days, weeks, months, something like that--some of the stuff to be dealt with belongs to the four lovely offspring mentioned above. (Two live pretty close by.) So, I'm trying to unload what I can of theirs on them--though it seems they have little space to accommodate--less than we do???

I've seriously been de-junking, which means rediscovering sweet memories, finding (lost) misplaced items of necessity, tons of yarn and fabric just waiting for artistic and utilitarian projects to begin, and I have not time to describe it all.

Suffice it to say, I'm under the gun, and about half-way . . . maybe . . . done with the whole job. I'd really like to paint walls after the super cleaning that needs to take place after de-junking, but well . . . only if super woman flies through a window tomorrow morning, or perhaps a Harry Potter and/or Hermione with magic wands in hand appear, or perhaps the combined efforts of all the aforementioned characters . . . not to mention the need for several more bookcases to materialize, and shelves downstairs to house various craft items, including boxes and boxes of school paper, crayons, colored pencils, folders, etc., etc.

As an aside: My husband has accompanied me on several occasions when shopping for artistic tools and supplies. He's seen the glazed look of adoration and wonder that transforms my face into a trance of sorts. And he's said, "Why don't we just buy the store?"

I looked stupefied and asked, "Really? Why?"

"Because then you'd have all the sewing, crocheting, embroidery, paints, brushes, papers, cake decorating and everything else kind of supplies handy."

I was in shock. "Really?"

"Well, yeah. And, then you'd know where everything was and maybe, just maybe, we could sell some of it--to finance the rest."

I love my husband. He actually understood my fascination with craft stores. But then, I have a thing for hardware stores, too. Especially the really old ones. I could get lost daydreaming in places like that for weeks. I love tools, and bolts and screws and nails, pliers, screwdrivers, hammers. I better stop tangent-ing--that's what gets me in the trouble I'm in.

So . . . we're not quite done with doctors. I'm not quite done with house cleaning, re-arranging, and I've just begun on a ton of new Church callings which will tax my fledgling talents--if there are some there--to make it all work. Maybe I'll find a minute or two next month to update. Here's hoping. But, now, I'm getting ready to go to sleep.

Maybe that's why I'm so tired lately. And, NOT hiding.

Hummingbird Nesting

Addendum: And at the beginning . . . or second beginning.

My dear sister, Janet, was so sweet to email these pictures so that I could share them with you! She pointed out that the wire the nests are built on, actually provides power for her patio lights. And if you look REALLY closely, you'll see that the nest located near the center of the photo is built directly atop a switch--which can't be much more than an inch long. So, we're talking minuscule nest, here.

She further explained that the nest to the right side of (most of) the pictures is actually one from a couple of years ago. That one, according to her report, contained two little eggs approximately the size of little almonds (shelled almonds, I'm sure). I'm impressed. I've always wanted to see a hummingbird nest close-up and this might be the only chance I get to do that! (She lives like a two-day trip from me--a LONG two days! Dang it!)

Notice the rapidly moving wings up there?

See the switch the nest is built on?

Isn't this just sweet?!!
* * * * * *
I have a sister who took a picture of a hummingbird on its nest. It's under the patio cover at her house. The nest was constructed on an electrical wire, of all things, and she, my sister, now has limited access to her patio (the nest is really close, she said, to her access door). The little jewel's chosen spot is just over the BBQ grill, so grilling, for a bit, will be curtailed.

I've got to see if she'll email me a copy her picture and post it. It's just so cute! And who doesn't need "cute" right now in this world? So, IF she'll email me a copy of her great picture, I'll share it with you. (She did, as you might have noticed at the beginning, the new beginning of this post.) Otherwise, you'll have to be like I was yesterday, and be completely oblivious to what a hummingbird on its nest looks like. (Unless, of course, you've already been so privileged.)

Best to you all, and to all little, glittery hummers wherever you are! (Not the rugged 4-wheeler version vehicles. Rather, the high-energy, feathered, acrobatic masters of flight ones!)

Where, Oh Where, Have I Been?

I'm promising myself this will be brief--otherwise I could be here all day filling you in on pages and pages of info you'd probably care less to read.

So--succinctly as my verbose nature may allow--my husband (with me driving/assisting) have visited 4 different hospitals (including a few trips to 3 different emergency rooms) since May 3. He's doing well while sporting (under the skin beneath/below his left collar bone) a whiz-bang computer/battery combo that regulates his heart beats to 70/minute and will, if/when necessary, ZAP his ticker to establish/re-establish proper rhythm in all chambers . . . I think. IF he's had any zapping, it's been the mild kind. The Doctor said it will, when necessary, ramp-up from mild, to medium to MAJOR zaps to keep his heart from "running away" with itself. Apparently (Who would figure? *note heavy sarcastic tone*) one's heart isn't particularly efficient in passing freshly oxygenated blood to his body--which is rather essential for continual life processes--so the device is essential to life. His life. --when it's running at 280 beats, or so, per minute. Funny how that is! (I edited since that little bit seemed to mess up the possibility of understanding what I was really trying to say. My mind . . . Oh Where, Oh Where has you gone, honey?) I'm so grateful that the technology is available and our health insurance is SO good--and that they (technology, doctors, hospitals, etc.) are available--even if they may be 160 miles round trip away.

He's doing a little better each day. Trying to get used to the 4 heart meds and all their weird side effects. I'll continue to do what I can to encourage him and support him and take care of him.

More Hospitals and Doctors

Wow! Tonight, I'm tired. My husband is tired.

Saturday we had a trip to the ER (30 miles away) to check out the swelling near the heart-cath insertion site. ER doc said: Most likely a lymph node.

It was larger yesterday and today, so called back to the Doctor's office (the one who performed the hearth-cath) to report in. His Physicians Assistant said "come now" for an ultra-sound of the site. That hospital/out-patient center is 80 miles from home. When we go there and the ultra-sound tech first saw everything, she was afraid she was going to be viewing a pseudo-aneurysm. Not a good thing, I learned, but treatable.

Since my husband was feeling all kinds of "weird" things in his chest, etc., we asked about seeing the cardiologist. The answer from the heart-cath doctor's nurse: you should probably go home and call the other cardiologist about making an appointment.

Well, we were hungry so we called our daughter who lives close by and went for lunch. Then, after, at her apartment, we called the other cardiologist to see about getting worked in today--since we live 80 miles away and didn't want to have to do the 160 mile round trip later. AND we'll be traveling down again on Sunday for the study on Monday.

They were very kind to work us in.

This doctor, excellent reviews from the first doctor and other people we know who've been treated by him, scared the begeebers out of us . . . as he commented on what could have happened to my husband 9 days ago.

With the way your heart was doing, you had three different morphologies going on, a heart rate of 280/minute . . . if your heart weren't in as good a shape as it is, you'd be dead now.

Nothing like that to put the frosting on the cake and give you a huge sigh of relief! Or more likely the anxiety-city my husband is feeling. Not to mention the definite realization of the serious fragility of one's mortality!

Then, as this doctor answered our questions about what will happen next Monday when he does the "EP" study--I believe the EP stands for "Electrical Pathways", he's going to try to get my dearly beloved husband's heart to repeat the bizarre behavior of 9 days ago. The very A-typical heart behavior this doctor has never seen before. So my husband asked, in blatant curiosity of his chances for survival, Won't I then be at risk for my heart stopping all together?

Well, quite frankly, yes.

But I don't want that to happen, you know!

But you need to understand, there's not a better place on the planet for your heart to stop than in that hospital EP study room. There will be staff and equipment to fix that situation.

So, you'll have to zap me?

If your heart stops, yeah.

Won't that hurt?

You probably won't be totally awake, so it shouldn't bother you.

That's when I ante up and mention: Better than the alternative, I think!

So, I'll be sedated?

Well, a light sedation. We don't want you too deep because we won't be able to get your heart to repeat what it did the other day if you're too sedated.

Then the discussion went into the defibrillator/pace-maker implant he will much more than likely have to insert into my husband's chest with electrical leads into his various heart chambers.

My husband is taking this all so calmly. Kind of like we did when we learned he had prostate cancer two years ago and all that implied. I'm so impressed with his ability to be so calm through the whole thing, even when he was in the hospital with the horribly fast racing heart, talking to me a thousand miles away--literally--and telling me he's fine and doesn't want me to worry about him.

Then, the whole thing really kicked me in the teeth today, when after leaving the Doctor's office, and getting him another medicine we were driving close to where our son was at work. Since it's a retail store, I asked, Do you want to go by and see Andrew?

He said, Yeah, let's do that. I would like to see him.

And we did. Andrew was glad to see his Dad, too. Somewhere in there I said something about I thought he'd want to hurry back home--we'd been gone most of the day by then--and this was the part that really caught in my throat--he said,

You know, thoughts keep going through my mind, if I don't see him now, this might be the last time I get to see him.

You can't see the tears in my eyes right this minute, nor feel the wrench in my heart, but I, too, have considered how close he's come to that point of leaving mortality. And, I'm not ready for that. I'm not sure any of us are ready to give up a spouse--or other dearly loved family member or friend.

I believe that it wasn't his time to go. And, perhaps the prayers of his family and friends and his little grandchildren (who at 4 and 5 are earnestly praying each day for their Grandpa without being prompted to do so) have found place in the Lord's heart to lend him to us for more time here in mortality. I know for sure that God hears and answers our prayers, but He still has a plan that may not include all that we desire and pray for and He expects us to prepare for whatever may come our way.

I'm just grateful He's blessing my husband now, and each of the rest of us as well, to have more time together. I pray it's many years, if it is His will.

And I'll keep praying and trying to get my life in order.

Traumatic Few Days

• I'm home.
• Things have been really weird since Sunday.
• Some weirdness began Saturday.

My youngest grandson had infected ears--with tubes in--that drained beginning on Tuesday (last week). Then Thursday, the middle youngin, another boy, woke around 1:30 AM with a very hurtful ear. I had a developing cold/cough. Saturday I called my husband to talk with the youngest who was a wild man most likely due to his discomfort with the ear aches. When this little one knew "Gampa" was on the phone, an immediate grin replaced the grumpiness. "Gampa" then mentioned that when I had a minute could I please call him back; he needed to ask me about something weird he was experiencing. I told him: Tell me now!

The "experience" included "reflux" type of discomfort, the upper thorax pain radiating up to his jaw, and a tingling kind of sensation in his chest, like you might feel in your foot when it was asleep and waking up. And it was occurring over and over again. I tried to urge him to get to the ER immediately, but you know how guys are: I'm invincible. I'm tough. I can handle this.

Somehow, I did manage to convince him to at least go check his blood pressure at Walmart. After he agreed, and left, I realized that driving himself to Walmart might NOT have been one of the wisest things I've encouraged. So I called a friend and asked if he could be on stand-by in case somebody needed to go to the ER 30 miles away--where his heart doctor was. This wonderful friend, was more than willing to do so--at least until Tuesday, when his own wife was scheduled for surgery.

Sunday, a severe storm raged through our town. Trees went down around 7:30-8:30 AM, and with them, of course, power lines. My husband tried to drive to church. The roads to there--not far from the house--were blocked by fallen trees/limbs.

Then, the chest pains began again, and were more intense. He finally was convinced he needed to get to the ER. So, he drove himself. The friend who was so willing to drive him, was totally blocked in his own house by a huge fallen tree. Two other families from our Church had trees fall on their homes--one which was demolished 45 seconds after they got out! It was the result of a twister.

He, my husband, did make it to the ER under his own steam--and that of his truck, of course--probably in the nick of time. His heart rate was recorded as 200 beats a minute!!! The doctor tried to stabilize him and planned to heli-flight him to another, larger hospital that's a one-and-a-half hour's drive from here, but due to weather, all flights were cancelled.

About the time he made it to the ER, my daughter and her husband made it home from their trip and I tried to arrange a flight back home to be with my husband. I was in touch with my husband off and on all day. How his cell phone battery lasted without a recharge, I don't know, but it was great!

The transport to the larger hospital, via ambulance, was a wild ride, I heard. They made the trip in about 45 minutes, lights and siren going!

I did fly to the city where my brother-in-law lives--three hours from our home. He picked me up, drove me to the hospital where my husband left his truck, we went to the house to pick up a few items for my husband and booked it down to the hospital where he was undergoing a heart-cath. We got there about eleven pm. That was Monday.

Dear husband was released yesterday, Tuesday--to wait for a heart study to be done later. Got the word today that the Cardiac Electrician (as he's referred to) will do the "study" on the 18th and depending on the results, may insert at defibrillator. Fun, right?

More bad weather is forecast for this coming weekend. My friend (who had surgery yesterday) is doing well. Spoke also to the friend whose home was demolished, and she's doing well--though she said the whole thing is still surreal. I'm thinking of baking some bread and a chocolate, fudge drenched cake--which is one of her husband's most favorite desserts--and going to see them tomorrow. With said baked items, of course!

My cold/cough is getting better, but my head--especially my ears are very congested and things sound weird. My voice, I'm told, is sounding more and more like normal. (When I called our son on Sunday to let him know about his Dad, he was about to leave for work and had no idea who called him to tell him about such bad news. Finally, it apparently dawned on him who I was and he was able to somewhat put the pieces together. The things we never realize, sometimes about how we sound! Our oldest daughter thought I was her brother when I first talked with her that day! I must have sounded BAD! I do have a bit of a low speaking voice, I guess, but it must have been way down in the basement on Sunday!) My ears, however, still hurt--the plane trip was painful on the descents--and I want desperately to de-congest! My chest isn't as tight as it was for the first several days--mucus is breaking up (I know you really wanted to hear about this) and I'm coughing up yucky stuff, finally. So I must be getting better! I've had so little sleep for the past few days, especially, that I fell asleep this afternoon on the couch.

I am grateful, however, to have been with my grandchildren for almost two weeks! I miss them already. I'm grateful my brother-in-law is such a great guy, I'm grateful that my two children that live in the town where their dad was in the hospital were able to be off work in order to stay with him till I was able to get there. Grateful HE is home now--and stable! Grateful we had no trees fall on our house or in our yard--like three years ago! Grateful for friends and family who've been praying for us. Grateful for good doctors and all that worked together so that we have a good result at this point!

Now, I'm probably going to go to bed and to sleep. In my very own bed. In my own house. With my husband. Life is good!

Grandma's Feelin' It!+

I'm feeling every bit of my 60 years tonight! I've been wrestling the 3 grandchildren, laughing, tickling, scolding, bathing, dressing, cooking for and feeding them and ready to drop into bed by 7:30 pm each night. They are amazing little creatures and they keep me hopping. I might (or not) get to post again before I get back home in about 8 days. If my youngest daughter weren't here to help me . . .

Well, let's just say I'd be lost without her! Especially because the 2 year old thinks she looks and acts enough like her sister, his Mom, that he's happy! Whoo hoo!

Grandpa left early this morning to get back to work tomorrow, so this same little one has been calling for him all day: "G'ampa. Where are you?" They all love their grandpa!

Next post????? Next week?