Monthly Archives: June 2015
So today The Curmudgeon started using Rebiff, interferon beta-1a. This is another injection drug, although this one is subcutaneous and given 3 times a week.
Da Momma sez dat if we getz much more wain we willz need an awk.
I habn’t gotted much chanz to wearz my hat and doggles wiff all ob de wain we habz.
I wishes dere waz sum way to send sum ob da wain out west weres dey needz it more.
If I beez lucky tomowwow I will getz to go foah a walkiez in da pawk. Mumma sez we will if we don’tz habs more ob da wain.
Went to bed at my, as of lately, usual time of 5:30 a.m. Woke to The Curmudgeon’s voice on the phone, “I’m down and I can’t get up.”
Leap out of bed, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, cussing, mad.
I had less than three and one half hours of sleep.
I went to bed thinking, “Wow, I don’t have to run anywhere today, I can sleep in!”
Hurt my back again trying to get him up into his chair and later upstairs and into his bed.
Nope. There was no help.
Yep, I actually went knocking on doors to find some. No responses.
No, I won’t call 911 for help because it’s not life threatening and they frown on it.
Yes, I did tell him that if I hit the lottery I was outta here. Granted, I’d make sure he was well taken care of…
I just can’t do this much more without losing my sanity completely.
The idiot thugs from down the street decided it would be fun to come up to our end of the street and have a huge yelling, screaming, phone cameras rolling fight. At 2:30 a.m. Yes, I said TWO THIRTY in the MORNING.
I so did not wish to have a need to call the police, I so did not wish to watch The Curmudgeon come stumbling downstairs because of the commotion, and I so did not wish to get my adrenaline pumping.
Seems I am the only one around here with the guts to phone the police, the idiot thugs and the asshole younger shits have intimidated most. Not me.
As I told the Curmudgeon, “I already died once. They don’t scare me.”
I need that lottery win because they truly don’t scare me but they probably will be the death of me with the stress they cause around here.
I so need to get out of here and go live on a nice quiet beach.
We missed The Curmudgeon’s CT scan appointment yesterday because no one told us he had one. This is to recheck his lungs. We were told that we would get a call to tell us if they could schedule him in.
Never got a call.
We were home.
We did get a call to tell us he missed it.
Surprise, surprise. My allergy season has hit. All those roses in bloom around here have me coughing, sneezing, and wheezing. My eyes are watering and itchy. Oh yeah, fun time!
Don’t get me wrong, I love roses, but they don’t love me.
Quick, run out and buy stock in tissues.
Wow, we thought we were in for some real nasty weather.
Thunder crashed in the distance. The sky blackened. Wind picked up and made the tree branches dance.
We had a spatter of rain. The clouds moved off. The thunder still rumbled and complained in the distance.
I had to water my tomatoes and other potted plants.
That’s okay. South of us got whipped hard with high winds tearing down trees and heavy rain. We were spared even the cutting of the switch.
Two very bad days in a row for The Curmudgeon. I can’t wait for him to start the new medication in hopes that he improves on it.
His bad days mean I get to wake to a message on the phone from him saying he’s down and can’t get up. Cue adrenaline rush, pounding heart, and lots of cussing. I leap out of bed, dash down the stairs (nearly breaking my neck there), and manage to, once again, no, twice again, hurt my back getting him up. Both. Days.
I am exhausted clear to the bone, frustrated as hell, and one lottery win away from leaving.
Yeah, I said that.
Sometime next week, The Curmudgeon will begin a round of new medication. Rebiff. It was approved.
He’s not thrilled that it is an injectable he must give himself 3 times a week.
He hated the once a week one. However, that one was intramuscular whereas this one is subcutaneous. A much smaller and shorter needle.
He’s still very nervous about it. He never was one for needles.
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You know your dog is relaxed when she’s been sound asleep, lifts her head to look at you, and her tongue is sticking out a mile. *Giggle*
Nice to see how a year in this house has her happy, relaxed, and full of herself.
She does a wild hucklebutt in the living room at least once a day, playing pinball off the couch and the chairs.
She greats the next door neighbors with a wagging tail and plenty of kisses when she can get them.
She’s completely adopted her Auntie G and scolds her if she forgets to give her a cookie when she comes in.
She sticks her head under her brother’s blanket that covers his crate to tease the crap out of him when he’s napping.
Yeah, I think she fits in fine here.
If you notice, there are metal screens on top of the soil. We have a horrific overpopulation of hungry squirrels and they were digging holes in the soil.
My recycled aquarium stand potting table works well for me.
You all have a good one!