Thursday, February 26, 2015

"I can eat bacon"

Depressed today.  I did sleep OK, didn't wake up with a headache.  I started my cycle - late - I have to figure menopause is around the corner and I am completely fine with it.  I'm having a lot of cramps. 

I always figured, married to Ron, I'd regret my "lack" of children more and more, the older I got.  The reverse has happened.  In my late teens I'd see a cute baby and think "Awww". 

Now I think, that's probably 7-9 thousand diapers to be changed before potty training.  I only have to clean the litterboxes once a day, which would be criminally abusive with a child. 

Of course I also have the "medication causes birth defects" issue.  "Childbirth would trigger a psychotic break" issue, "Sleep deprivation is really, really bad" issue - ha! 

Aside from all that, I honestly think I would be a poor mother.  I have mental illness.  I have to take care of myself and put myself first, at times.  Kids, from what I hear, always come first, even when they're grown. 

They did a study on head injury patients.  The most common caregiver?  Parents.  Parents are used to taking care of their child, so it's "natural" to slip back into the role.  Spouses and children have a much harder time with the victim in a dependent, needy, role. 

Like I said, depressed today. 

I did do my God time.  I had a moderate headache so I couldn't take my antidepressant (if I do I just vomit).  We went to Taco Bell. 

Taco Bell is very close to the Post Office.  I had a package for Mom and Dad.  A few things for each of them.  I'd put them into a large flat rate box (I am a huge fan). 

I brought the box and set Ron up with a crunchwrap and a burrito.  He called me, disgusted.  "This is white people food.  It has no flavor".  I told him the "guy" in their commercials is almost always a 20 something year old white man.  "That's their demographic". 

"It's awful, even with hot sauce."  Ron then proceeded to call 1-800-TACOBELL and complained.  They thanked him and he hung up. 

I went off to the Post Office.  It was in the 30's.  Very chilly, clear, and sunny, but windy.  I saw dying mosquitoes everywhere.  They hatched when the weather was nice and then the cold snap nailed them. 

I didn't feel sorry for the dying mosquitoes!  I am candy to them, and always getting bitten. 

I took my time taping the box.  I have seen how priority mail boxes are handled at work, just a part of it is enough to ensure a lot of taping on my part.  I have seen just a part of the processing.  It involves "crab cages" - a huge, metal, rolling cage, at ground level.  They are filled with packages.  Then the handler picks up the package and throws it into a "tow behind" metal rolling rack.  God only knows what happens after that. 

I package my items to be thrown around, dropped, etc.  No one's ever complained. 

On the other hand, I've gotten things that had minimal tape, no padding, and were fine - like the computer I got in 2012.  My brother in law, God love him, literally placed the computer into the box with disks and manuals only, then put a little tape and shipped it.  Amazingly, while the box was pretty beat up, but the contents were fine. 

Well, I figure, that was God. 

One time I got a one pint jar of honey in a cardboard box that had been run over by a tow motor.  The package was completely crushed.  However, when I opened it, the honey was fine.  It was good, too. 

So, I got it mailed.  The clerk is very nice.  She told me they are cutting staff, which I find foolish.  It is a very busy office.  We gossiped a little and I left. 

I went back, got a couple of breakfast tacos.  "I can eat bacon" I told Ron "But sausage in any form makes me nauseous now."  He just gaped at me. 

I was fine eating my bacon things.  I also got 2 cinnabon delights.  They were very, very sweet.  Good but extremely sweet.  "It's like" I told Ron "A cinnamon roll made love to a cheese croissant."  He made a face and kept eating his sausage. 

Our driver came on time, and is a really delightful man.  I like him a lot.  I do have my favorites. 

We went home.  I was a little manic by now (it's called ultra rapid cycling, and considered "bad").  I decided to clean up the bedroom. 

I couldn't find my passport.  I was pretty alarmed.  I keep a little cash in there also in case I need to leave for the night.  I tore the bedroom apart for an hour. 

I laid down, trying to take a nap.  I was pretty agitated and beating myself up.  I had horrid visions of trying to get a new passport and social security card.  Not to mention the money. 

I finally managed to fall nearly asleep, and was thinking about the last time I'd seen it.  I'd wanted to put $20 into it.  I thought it was too obvious where I had it.  A burglar could find it, steal my cash and my identity.  I had to move it. 

But where?  When my house was robbed the first places searched were under my bed, dresser, and top of dresser - all places I might have used.  I remembered thinking "It has to be easy for me to grab, yet oblivious to a criminal." 

Biscuit kitty came along, and walked all over me purring.  He knew I was upset and hurting (cramps!).  I finally remembered! 

I won't say where because it's obviously a good hiding place.  :p  I did have a nice little nap with Biscuit. 

WHEW.  What a day. 

I did organize the bag I would take with me if I had to run out.  I had a lot of toiletries, way too many, in my opinion.  I pared it down to a bar of soap and some deodorant.  I need a small brush, though, and some hair elastics. 

I woke up, talked to Ron, did some accounting stuff. 

Ron got very emotional listening to a love song and thanked me very sincerely, and profusely, for "Sticking around". 

I don't see it as a big deal.  Yes, I hear a lot of "Once I became disabled, my wife left" stories, particularly on one message board.  I know people sure acted like I was either insane (I am, ha ha), or some kind of holy saint, for "keeping him" (anything good you see in me is God). 

I did it for one reason: to live with myself.  That's all. 

I love Ron, he does better when I'm around.  When he's having a meltdown I am the only one who can calm him down.  Usually, I feel valued and respected. 

So he's in a wheelchair?  So freaking what?  It's a tool, like my glasses.  He didn't run off when I needed bifocals. 

I'll refer back to one of my earlier statements: he does better when I'm around.  So, that's it. 

I have to live with myself, and my God, and I would have a hard time with both if I had walked out on Ron because he looked "messy and difficult".  He was, at first, but has made huge strides with the head injury. 

Physically, I have resigned myself: he's going to have a setback, every couple years.  I just need to expect that.  I would always rather expect the worst, and have a nice surprise, than to expect continued improvement and have a huge grief process because he went back in the wheelchair (like I did last year). 

Hey, I'm no treat.  Unmedicated severe bipolar for 14 years before diagnosis.  Let's just think on that for a minute.  Do you know an unmedicated person with bipolar disorder?  Would you want to sleep in bed with someone like that? Trust them to have your back? 

Yeah. 

Ron did, for 14 years.  

Ron is very accepting of my mental illness.  I see the looks I get when I mention having hallucinations.  People cringe, like I might infect them.  Boy, that makes me feel warm and fuzzy - but I feel education is more important than stigma.

Over the years, I do feel I have helped educate some people who needed information; people with bipolar family members, or even those with it themselves.  That's worth some gossip and stigmatization.

Ron is very supportive of my drive to "Be the person I needed after my diagnosis" and even does his own education.

I think, at the end of it, we try to have each other's backs.  

That's worth a lot. 

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Say no to chicken strips

I woke up pretty depressed, then flipped into a mania.  Ugh. 

I couldn't shut up!  Ron was half kidding when he asked me for 2 minutes of silence. 

We went to the dentist.  He had his crown mounted.  Happily that was pretty cheap. 

The crown was more expensive than exams for all the cats, vaccines for all the cats, and neutering for both kittens!  "Crowns" are aptly named.  I don't feel at all guilty about the vet bills. 

Happily I have never had a crown.  I think I have some 4 sided composite fillings, but that's it.  I have about 10 or so fillings, total, I think.  I got all of them in the late 90's.  I had one done on a back molar several years ago, that one actually cropped up after Ron's accident. 

I had 4 teeth pulled to make room for braces; 4 wisdom teeth pulled.  I also had a cyst extracted from my upper jaw and I have some scar tissue on the inside of my mouth, sticking the cheek to the gumline.  Because of that I developed 3 nasty cavities behind that - the saliva couldn't get back and keep things fresh. 

Anyway, Ron is the one with dental issues these days.  I just get the odd gingivitis attack from my dry mouth.  Crowns, fillings, root canals, broken teeth, you name it. 

I figure he will be in dentures, in another 10 years, assuming we don't get raptured.  Which means, I'll have to clean them.  Ewwwww. 

Oh, well.  Ron has a fatalist attitude.  "It's too late to take proper care of my teeth". 

After the visit - Ron looked a lot happier, feeling the new crown with his tongue, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

Doc said he could eat so we did that.  I got a few things at the store, and we went to work. 

It was, as expected, pretty slow, but like Ron said we did stock 120 bottles of soda, if nothing else.  I did a couple dozen bags of chips. 

I ate a chicken lunch plate for lunch.  Generally, I hate chicken but it looked good, it was affordable, the deli is stringent about food safety, and I had to eat.  I wasn't getting on my own nerves but if I'm getting very chatty then it's probably time to take my mood stabilizers (which I had). 

I ate 2 large strips (I gave the third to Ron, who ate about a pound of strips total), mac and cheese, and potato wedges, along with a soda and the medication.  Within 20 minutes I knew I'd made a bad mistake. 

Oh, rolicking sea of nausea.  I was OK until we started home.  We picked up another client at the community college.  She began talking about her church's fried fish dinner, discussing the sides, the seasonings used on the fish, the desserts... and she got a look at me and stopped.

We had to ride around for an hour and a half - pretty standard for a later afternoon pickup.  [sigh]  Not a problem, except for the nausea and a desperate need to pee.

But hey, I wasn't depressed, and too tired (from medication) to be really manic.  I didn't even have a headache!

When we got home Ron bolted for the bathroom.  Once he exited I emptied my bladder and ripped open a bottle of Pepto, chugging straight from the bottle.  That did help a bit; then I took a short nap.

I woke up feeling a little better.

Tomorrow I mail a care box to Mom and Dad.  They have had a lot of stress with Dad's heart problems so I figure they can use a few treats.  


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Tech day

I added some new photos to the slideshow. 

It took me FOREVER to figure out how to load the phone drivers to my computer.  I finally got it today.  I hope I did. 

Anyway, BABIES! 
Biscuit's on the left. 

The last two - the boys sugaring Ron after their rescue.  I'm glad they felt we were worth a little effort. 

It's been tech day, that's for sure. 

Last night I decided to buy half a dozen songs from Amazon.  I got some Gospel Rap, and "Fancy".  I find it funny and sarcastic when I look at my own life; because I'm not.  I got the clean version. 

Anyway, while attempting to download somehow I selected everything in my cloud, over 500 songs.  I was horrified. 

I decided to let it go ahead.  I did find a couple things I'd missed, and 2 things Ron wants. 

Of course it took me 2 days to clean up my playlist.  I bought a LOT of Ron's music on my account, and I found the new playlist a horrifying mixture of country, old soul, classic rock, etc. 

I am pretty simple: I have old gospel, headbanger screaming Jesus metal, and gospel rappers.  I have a few odd other things like world music, but that's pretty much it. 

I guess I'm pretty narrowminded in my music taste, but I'm fine with that.  It's my music. 

We went to Walmart this morning.  I bought the home carbonation soda maker from Hamilton Beach.  I like it.  I just want to get some more CO2.  God knows I have plenty of syrup.

My mood was actually pretty decent, even though I woke up with a progressively worsening headache.  PMS meet weather front.  Ugh.

Shower, God Time, Walmart.

I came home.  The headache wasn't quitting.  I took a nap, it got worse.

I woke up, made myself some diet root beer, and took some aspirin.  That helped.

My pharmacist told me I should take aspirin with my medications.  I figure it's a good idea.  They give aspirin to heart patients, too, and I have a pretty high risk for that.  We have a family history of A-fib.  My mother's already dead of a heart attack.  Anyway.

The aspirin worked.

I finally figured out my phone.  Apparently I needed to install an additional driver (they could have made that a lot easier), so I am officially 100% happy with Cricket now.

Now to put some new music on my cell phone.  


Monday, February 23, 2015

Beat the fur offa you

I'm going to start with last night.  Me, sitting in bed, on the verge of panic, trying to extract the earplug with tweezers and the damn thing won't come out! 

All the latino neighbors had "gatherings".  Three of them just around me.  They were all pretty quiet and I didn't hear any of those awful polkas, so I call it a win. 

I "should" have gone to bed at 6, but I could hear them talking in (their) backyard.  All Spanish of course.  OK.  Not going to bed yet.  I waited an hour.  Still talking.  They were, very clearly and apparently trying to "keep it down". 

I called Mom and Dad, an hour later, no talking but some noise.  OK.  Time for the earplugs.  I inserted them.  One of them seemed to protrude a bit so I pushed it in slightly. 

Not only was it very uncomfortable, it was also on the edge of hurting.  I decided to take it out.  But I couldn't! 

Ensue 20 minutes of drama, near hysterical, frantic applications of tweezers to exposed earplug section, my head tilted to one side, Ron trying to talk to me.  Not only can't I hear him, I don't want him to hear what happened until it's fixed.  I know he will be very upset and that will just feed my own distress. 

"I'll talk to you later" 

I kept thinking how I'd never get a cab to the urgent care center. 

I had to take several calming walks up and down the hallway (about 20 feet long).  I prayed - A LOT, and finally got the damned thing out. 

Of course my adrenaline was up and I couldn't have slept if you paid me.  I finally calmed down.  The visitors left around 9 - that's the nice thing about an infant in the house, they don't have late parties.  I fell asleep about half an hour later. 

Only problem: my wakeup was 2 AM.  However, I've often found that a 4 hour nap can hold me pretty well through delivery day. 

I did my God Time later, took a shower, and hoped we had a good driver this morning.  Some of them have personal, dramatic, agendas.  They pull up, back up beeping loudly, leave the door wide open and the dispatch radio blaring at maximum volume.  They do this at 3:30 AM. 

Here's a question: if I can hear the neighbors, do you think they can hear me?  Of course.  I want to be respectful.   I don't want to be hated.  I want Ron to be liked. 

However, when we ask the driver to please be quiet, a lot of them get a massive attitude and begin exclaiming in a very loud voice.  [facepalm] 

Do you understand the concept of quiet involves no shouting?  

Today, we had a great driver.  He's a little dour but he's good, and he's quiet!  We had a pretty good trip to work. 

I actually met a Metrolift dispatcher.  She was very nice and told me about the Bible Handouts before I mentioned them. 

I find it interesting, by the way, usually the high-drama posts get the most traffic.  I can see how many times a post is read.  Lately, it's been all about the Bible Handouts.  Every post with "Bible Handout" in the title is on the top list. 

I think it's good.  I hope they are inspired to go hand out Bibles themselves.  I don't think it's anything I do.  I'm just a tool in the shed. 

We got to work.  It was miserably cold.  I pushed Ron into the building and we went to work.  You could not tell, from looking at snacks, that I had been absent 3 days.  However, they did need some work.  I got started on that. 

We stocked everything, and I mean everything.  I got sandwiches and did them. 

However, no Dr Pepper.  Ron finally called.  A lot of excuses - it's not coming today. 

[Bad Word]   I got up at 2 AM, with 3 hour's sleep, for nothing. 

Ron and I got into a squabble.  It was embarrassing, especially as it happened in front of the union rep (one of them).  He thought it was hysterical.  I guess that's a good thing. 

Ron was very upset, and I had to leave him to let him cool down.  When he has a meltdown I can't talk to him or even push the wheelchair, he could react physically. 

You can imagine what would happen if he bopped me at work.  He almost did hit me, waving his hand in the air, but that would have been an accident.  So, I just left him. 

I didn't feel guilty about it. 

Ron came in later, making a concerted effort to "be in a good mood".  I had told the union guy, "I wouldn't talk to him, he's in a bad mood right now". 

Ron objected.  

Anyway, we finally got that that done.  We had done literally everything while waiting.  I put the carts away, lamenting I hadn't brought my Kindle.  I need to remember that on delivery days, or repairman.

Ron called and we actually got a ride within 45 minutes.  That's remarkable, especially since they sent the (another very nice) driver all the way from across town. 

We got to talking on the way home and we told her out theory that Torbie may have eaten the cord to a pair of Beats. 

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed  "Uh, uh.  I'm sorry, cat, but you do that I'm going to beat the fur offa you!" 

Ron and I laughed    I could just see the scene so clearly.  

We also discussed the importance of companies valuing and respecting their employees.  Just a box of donuts now and then can make a huge difference.  Say what you might about Ron, I know he values me.  We both know he can't do it without me.

We got home, several hours after we'd left. 

I heard the kittens wailing from my bedroom (I lock them up when we leave so they don't escape around Ron's exit, or entry).  I released them and they greeted us. 

All the cats are home.  The weather is miserably cold (for Houston, 30's F) and windy. 

I ate and took my meds, then took a nap.  I woke up with both Torbie and Gravy in bed with me.  One on each side.  Awww. 

Gravy gives me such cute little meows when I wake up. 

Sunday, February 22, 2015

What a day

It was  a day off.  Everyone's physically healthy.  No headache.  I went to Walmart.  It should have been a fun day, right?

I finally figured out a way to make the earplugs work.  They aren't forgettable, but I could get some rest in them.  Last night, the yapper next door was going crazy on the other side of my bedroom wall.  I removed the cord and inserted them.  Much better than the corded style.  Aqua Ears

The foam ones pop out and don't muffle; the silicone ones fall out and get stuck in my hair; but these actually stay put and are fairly comfortable.

I inserted them, reminding myself I could sleep in today if needed.  I heard the kids outside playing earlier (presumably with the dog) so hopefully they will tire it out today.  I dozed for a while, then removed the earplugs.  Silence.   I set them on my nightstand.

I slept pretty well.  Biscuit and Torbie are competing for bed rights.  They both want to sleep in the bed.  Biscuit would love to share, Torbie, not so much.  When Torbie left at one point, Biscuit and Gravy joined me.

I do love to sleep with a cat.

I woke up very depressed.  I took my shower and did my God Time.  I ate something and took my medication.  Something was "up" next door.

It's been my experience, with the men on either side of my home, if they're doing yardwork, they're having a party.  He was doing yardwork (I hadn't put it together yet).  I found his dog rather annoying.  They had it in the kennel, sitting in the driveway (what is it, no one understands "leash" on my block?)  It wanted to roam, couldn't, and decided to yap, yap, yap a lot instead.

I won't say much about #2's dog, for fear of upsetting Melanie.  I will say it appears to be well fed and they don't let it roam.

Already depressed, I found the yapping and the happy family talk (albeit in Spanish), even more depressing.  Then Ron started up with his usual morbid impatience for God to return.  He is extremely dark and negative in his thoughts and talk. He says he is upset with God; somehow that translates to using me as his emotional toilet. 

I have very limited results actually talking to him.  If I remind him I am already battling a severe depression he gets even worse.  

Desperate, I decided to go to Walmart.  I had asked him to make a trip yesterday, but he got drunk, or forgot.  I think, at the end of it, he didn't want to go.

I did.  I needed some more soda, etc.

I also wanted to look at the garden center.  I love gardening, and my focus on that lately has been one of the only things keeping me afloat.  It sure wouldn't hurt to get a new hose, would it?

We called a cab.  A nice man showed up about 10 minutes later.

I had as much fun as I could, at Walmart.  I ended up buying Ron, at his request, $25 worth of merchandise.  He always makes me calculate "his" tab so he can "pay me back".  I remind him he's paying the mortgage and all, he gets upset and insistent.

So I accept the money (I do make a lot less).

For myself, I went to the garden center.  I got a new hose, some batteries for the cat toy (Cat's Meow, everyone loves it), some seed starting material, my sodas, a couple t-shirts - they are making the women's with a pocket now, finally!  I spent about 45 minutes.

While it wasn't peaceful, I heard a lot of Spanish, I was aghast at what some women apparently wear to church - a lot of jiggly breast and thigh, screaming kids, still better than home.

Sad but true.

I paid.  I went to McDonald's and got some nuggets, and sandwiches for Ron.  I asked Ron to call a cab.

After an hour, a cab came in the parking lot, drove around, saw me, and LEFT.  It made me very self conscious. 

The company called me a while later.  Was I still waiting? 

I bit off the sarcastic reply and responded in the affirmative.  I told her about the cab, said I "Took a bath, with soap" and wondered why it was so hard to find a driver. 

I have taken other cabs to Walmart and home, never had these problems. 

Today.  I did. 

Now, years ago, Ron and I had The Worst Trip Ever.  I had a migraine.  I was in extreme pain.  Our ride was 2 hours late.  This one beat that by half an hour, and only then because I called a friend to pick me up. 

Happily, he wasn't busy. 

I did laugh hysterically when he asked if I minded waiting for half an hour.  I had already been waiting for 2. 

He got there 2.5 hours after I called. 

"Oh, that was the longest wait ever" I said. 

"What?" he replied, baffled. 

"Oh, not you, you're great.  Thank God you came!"  He relaxed and took me home.  I gave him the cab money and told him I was Never Doing That Again. 

I had to laugh when we got home.  Ron had locked the kittens in his room.  I reached for the door knob and our friend said "Maybe he's asleep, or busy". 

I opened the door anyway as he flinched and looked the other way.  Sure enough, Torbie and 2 kittens running around the room, Ron listening to TV on his headphones, fully dressed. 

I had to giggle after our friend fled. 

I don't often see Ron as "controlling", but he wants me to shower during certain hours in the summer; leave my bedroom door open at all times "because it has a better vent"; put a fan in my doorway, in the summer, to "blow cold air at the intake vent"; don't cook at all during the summer, etc. 

I do find it funny.  Like the internet joke, he pays all kinds of money during the winter, to keep the house at a temperature he'd deem "unacceptable" during the summer.  I think it's silly. 

I don't need it warm in the winter.  I like it warm in the summer; UNLESS I am trying to sleep.  Menopause Woman likes a little chill at bedtime.  He's railed bitterly about it. 

Anyway, while talking with our friend I did arrange to have a trip to the garden center.  I'll get some mulch and soil amendments, toss them in the truck, bring them home and put them in the backyard.  After he leaves I will spread most of the mulch on the beds. 

If you think it's hard riding the bus, you can imagine what it's like for me trying to transport a bag of cow manure! 

That way, the garden will keep me busy and occupied for minimal cost.  I also find myself eating a tremendous amount of fresh, homegrown, vegetables. 

If I buy veggies, they rot in the fridge. 

When I came home I saw cars everywhere.  As near as I can tell 3 of the latinos, including the neighbors on either side, are having parties tonight.  Why? 

No holidays of Mexican festivals as far as I can tell.  I didn't see any soccer on TV.  It's just [my street] latino party day.  At least they are fairly quiet.  I don't hear much with my music at a standard level. 

I do pray they wrap it up soon, because our first pickup is 3:43 AM.   If I want to do my God Time and take a shower (equally important), I have to get up at 1:30 to 1:45.  Which means I should already be in bed. 

I can take 2 approaches: stay up until 8 or so, when it will be fairly quiet (I hope), or go to bed and use my earplugs. 

I think I'll split the difference and go to bed around 7-7:30. 

What a day. 

Happily, I should be able to get a nap tomorrow. 


Saturday, February 21, 2015

Splitting

I woke up with a splitting headache at 3 AM.  Ron was awake.  I talked to him for a while and fell back asleep.  I woke up a few hours later, still in agony.  I managed to get my shower and God Time. 

Apparently, I forgot my deodorant.  More later. 

I was pretty wound up an anxious from the OTC headache pills' caffeine.  Around 9 AM, I took some Aspirin. 

My stomach was not happy all day.  It's bad enough, I could hear the poor organ complaining, I have to deal with the junk food, and all those horribly toxic crazy pills, but now aspirin? 

Sorry.  The pharmacist said I should use aspirin as my primary painkiller. 

I am happy to report my face looks a lot better.  It appears I won't scar.  Good.  (The kittens galloped across my face last week during a nap). 

I caught up, a little on the laundry, and then Ron and I went to the Dollar Store.  I really wanted some C cell batteries for an automatic cat toy.  Of course they didn't have any. 

I did get some seeds, some fun stuff for Dad, snacks, batteries for Ron (alkaline for his wireless headphones), more batteries for my MP3 player (I much prefer a battery operated player, I had music for days after the hurricane when most players were dead.  I also had a very long trip to the ER back in 2009, and was able to listen to my music for nearly 24 hours. 

In short, I got plenty of stuff, just not the thing I came for.  Agh. 

We went home.  I still felt moderately crappy. I took off my jacket and realized I was a little ripe.  Hm.  I freshened up and changed.  

I decided to plant my Sunchoke tubers.  I'd ordered them last month. 

Since they grow wild in Canada, it's safe to plant them now, here in Houston!  I went out to Garden Bed 4.  It's got a lot of root competition from neighbor's trees, and slightly more shade.  It's probably the most challenging bed. 

However, my amendment program has worked.  I have lovely soft soil a couple inches deep, and then decent looking clay.  I planted them and mulched.  I will need to mulch the bed to cover the weeds (not many considering).  I will also need to explain "garden beds" to the yard guy so he doesn't "fix" it! 

I had plenty of fallen leaves and some shredded bark, so I used that for mulch.  I also used markers to denote the plants. 

These things grow wild in Houston.  They taste good.  I've eaten them (I bought some at the grocery store).  I have often ridden past a wild stand and wanted to forage. 

I finally decided, if they grow wild here, they will certainly grow well in my garden.  When I dug my garden beds (I basically have 1, 2 &3 merged, 4, 5, and 6), I used a stiff edging.  Nothing can grow into, or out of, the beds, especially if they're mulched. 

That said, I plan to allocate #4 for the 'chokes.  I can just dig some up, fall to spring, every year.  They will regrow.  I just need to mulch and apply some light fertilizer in the spring after the last frost date (I assume). 

I'm thinking about planting some yuca root in garden bed 5.  We'll see. 

I plan to put some pole beans around the 'chokes, I read that suggestion and it makes sense.  The beans like to climb, and contribute nitrogen.  The 'chokes provide support. 

I went out, it was nice, warm, a little muggy.  Lovely spring weather.  I had fun out there for maybe 20 minutes planting. 

I also checked on the remains of my poor fig tree.  It's gone.  I need to get something else in there (I built an above ground planter a few years back).  I'd like to add another course of cinderblocks and some more soil, then plant the chosen fruit tree. 

I don't think I want to do grapes, they are awfully messy and require a lot of tending - the muscadines do well in Houston but I need a lower energy garden.  I'm thinking citrus. 

I moved my faithful bay tree, still alive in it's pot years later, and added some compost.  At some point I need to repot it.  

I did a little garden cleanup and came in.  I washed my hands and said hi to the kittens. 

The kittens are doing great.  They were just in here raising hell. 

Torbie cat slept with me last night.  Apparently I am "her" property.  Aw.  She is pretty sweet.  I don't want her to be jealous, but I am flattered she thinks I'm worth fighting over.  Biscuit tried to join us around 3 and she smacked him - that's what woke me up, with the headache. 

Speaking of, it was pretty much gone.  I didn't realize my stomach was pretty cranky. 

For clarity's sake, when I refer to my stomach I mean the organ.  I don't mean "abdomen".  I hate it when people say they have "stomach" issues when they mean abdominal.  "I had really bad stomach pain and they took out my appendix"  AGH. 

Anyway, I have actual gastric distress now and then.  About 4 fries into dinner, I realized I should have gotten something else.  But what?  I couldn't eat the chicken salad.  I tried that ONCE.  I got so sick after taking my lithium, and that was when I was taking half what I do now!  No, I needed calories and protein, a lot. 

I gagged down my pills and watched Ron eat his hamburger.  I declined his offer to buy another burger for my breakfast.  I had to explain I was queasy, but I didn't know it until I began eating, but it wasn't the food. 

I didn't think of the painkillers until I started blogging now. 

We had another good talk.  Ron has mentioned, twice, on his own, he wants to order a book on addiction.  He even referenced it and his alcohol use in the same sentence. 

I, of course, am thrilled, but I played it low key.  I know my husband: if I push him, or make a big production out of progress, he will balk.  However, if I step back, pray, and turn him over to God, God will work on him.  I just need to be patient, and faithful in prayer. 

Looks like I was right!  God is working on him. 

I know a lot of people think, have thought, I am an idiot, a poor deluded fool who needs to lay down the law, set an ultimatum, and walk out. 

Ron already made it clear, in casual conversation, he would let me go if that happened.  I'm not afraid to lose him, outside of the usual "how will I make a living" issues, but I don't want to torpedo a marriage that can be saved. 

God's also told me I need to remain.  He's been telling me that for a very long time now. 

We had a very good date night, except for the nausea.  Ron was sympathetic. 

We even had good rides today, shockingly enough.  They were fine except for the nausea.  Since Ron is "on" a walker now, the paratransit company is hiring out some of our trips to cab drivers.  The cab drivers are great, very professional, and a guaranteed straight trip.  All the better. 

We don't have to tip them, but we do.  We want them to come back if they see us on the computer sometime in the future. 

The paratransit company issues a voucher, and the cab company takes it off their lease, or gives them cash. 

We did get a weather front today, and I have a couple days left 'till my cycle.  Even with the herbal supplements, I guess I was bound to get a headache. 

I just hope I don't have one tomorrow. 

Friday, February 20, 2015

No cojones para gatitos

I had a little competition in my bed last night. 

Oh, that sounds nasty. 

Biscuit wanted to sleep with Torbie.  That's all.  Torbie is not a fan of the kittens. 

Torbie won, for a while.  I woke up alone.  :( 

It's my fault.  I roll around too much.  I definitely don't want to roll over and squash a freshly-neutered kitten.  UGH! 

That would be The Worst Thing Ever. 

I woke up pretty depressed.  I managed to get my God Time and breakfast.  Then I watched Supernatural reruns for a couple hours while eating the remaining junk food in the house.  Not my finest moment, I thought. 

I haven't showered yet.  Not doing very well. 

I did get a little mixed (a dash of mania in all the depression), so I worked on organizing the front room, which looked like something out of "Hoarders".  It's better.  Baby Girl found a new rest spot and is enjoying it. 

I did get into the fridge and got the tacos para gatos.  I ordered them yesterday "Tacos para gatos".  They know because we have a history of ordering takeout for the cats.  She took the order in a very professional manner, as I explained "Just some cooked meat in foil, please, beef and chicken". 

I also told her "No cojones para gatitos!  Neccesito carne para gatitos!" 

[I'm neutring my kittens, I need some meat for them.]  The owner nodded sagely. 

I've picked up some Spanish living here.  It's nearly impossible to avoid.  And I want to know Spanish. 

So, they brought it out.  I have a theory the portion control goes out the window "Para gatos".  They seem to get more meat than the standard portion.  I won't complain. 

The kittens sure didn't.  They were howling, trying to steal each other's breakfast, and gobbling away.  Good.  I want to spoil them. 

I was also happy to note the pain meds come with extra vitamins, as a blood builder.  Good. 

They also have "different" incisions from the cheapo neuter clinics.  These have one over each testicle.  The clinics would cut at the top of the scrotum and get both out of the opening. 

Sorry if I just creeped you out.  I believe in researching everything before it's done, so I know what to expect.  Like my Dad and his heart trouble. 

The kittens alternated between cuddly and sleepy.  I took a nap, with Biscuit, for a while.  I was a little sad to wake up alone. 

Do I have a favorite?  No. 

I love Torbie because she picked me, she's "damaged goods", I saved her from certain death, and I can provide the safety and love she desires.  She got in my lap for God Time today, some it at least. 

I love Baby Girl because she picked Ron, she was dumped, and is safe and happy living with us.  She is not super cuddly with me but she does surprise on occasion.  One day I had a horrible depression, and she slept with me.  She also slept with me the night Bubba died, understanding my devastation.  In her own spotted way, she loves me too. 

I love he kittens because they're sweet, love each other passionately, and I saved them from certain death.  I can provide the safety and security they need.

Gravy has been wanting to go out.  I may get him a harness at first.  I have had to run out and catch him a few times.  He got out yesterday when I came home from checking the mail.  Naughty!

I could see his poor shaved nutsack, incisions and all, running away.  I couldn't help but think what the vet would say!

She did write some very nice things about them, in their discharge notes.  They love the boys, they're so cute and sweet.  They love all my cats.

One pastor said we talk about that which we love.  So I guess you can tell I love my cats.

Ron has been OK today.  Pretty busy doing his own thing.

I am sitting here in my housecoat, which is starting to fall apart.  Time to retire.

I'm debating getting a new "thing" to wear around the house when I don't want to wear "everything".  Something I can use to answer the door or throw on a jacket and check the mail, go out back and water the plants (we have a privacy fence).

Cons: not very fashionable and may encourage depression.
Pros: easy to wear, Ron doesn't care either.

I'm going to think about it.  It's hard to think at all with this depression, and I know the junk food didn't help (I ate 2 single-serve packages of sugar donuts and about 4 ounces of potato chips).

Oh, well, if nothing else I'll fix the cats some more "tacos".  


Thursday, February 19, 2015

Cat Mom - not a wheelchair

We had a busy day. 

Last night I put up the food and starved all the cats.  This morning, I put the boys in separate carriers.  Each carrier had one of their beloved slippers.  They like to knead and suckle on the soft, fluffy, fabric, and found them very comforting.  They "worked" on the slippers as we took them to the vet. 

We had a good ride to the vet, with a driver who actually liked cats.  Most of our drivers hate cats.  We got there before opening, of course. 

We only waited a little while before the technician came by to open.  Once he did he took the boys back.  When he returned, he praised them for being so "good and friendly". 

Sometimes, he told me, you have to put the carrier into the kennel and then open it, then yank your hand out before kitty "gets" you.  Our boys were cuddly and purred. 

They are lovers. 

The office administrator came, and we got everything settled.  Ron wanted to do microchips while they were already "out".  I thought that sounded great.  I have heard the injection is painful for the cat.  You might as well do it while they're unconscious.  I  also got some Laxatone because one of the girls has hairballs.  

I heard retching last night, but I don't know who.  It was an adult cat, though.  

Ron brought the walker.  Sad to say, he gets "better trips" when he "is a walker" and not "a wheelchair".  Wheelchairs are, like, the untouchables.  Sad.  You would think they would be a higher priority.  

Anyway, the paratransit company hired a standard cab to take us.  It was the same driver we had on Sunday.  We got a card, in case we need a ride, he does work our area.  We would pay him full fare of course, plus a tip.  He was interested. 

We got to work early and used every minute.  The repairman came.  I didn't feel so "stupid" after he told me I couldn't have fixed the problem on my own.  He had to work on it for a good 10 minutes with various specialty tools.  Happily, I'd already stocked it.  I just had to flip the switch.  

I did pastry, that was about all I needed.  Ron is giving me a couple days off because it is quiet.  

Pretty soon, time to go.  We went to lunch.  Ron got "the special".  Our pickup was going to be so awful Ron called a cab to take us home.  We agreed it was "worth it" to get home an hour earlier.  We were only about a mile and a half away anyway.  

We got a really nice guy (Ron and I had prayed and I specifically asked for a nice driver), who doesn't mind the small trips.  He was just delightful.  

We went home and I took a nap.  I heard some noise, and then the butthead who drives around in circles playing loud music. I did get some sleep, though.  

We woke up, called the vet.  The boys were fine.  Our friend came pretty soon after that and we liberated them.  

Everyone at the vet had fallen in love with the boys.  One tech threatened to keep Gravy.  They are very loving and sweet.  

During the last checkup, the vet kept praising us - the boys were in top condition - a nice change from their "rescue" state just a few weeks before.  And we're getting everything done in a timely manner.  

I want to be the best Cat Mom I can be.  

Ron had eaten himself sick on "the special" at lunch.  He went to bed when we got home, but called me a few times.  I took our friend out for a fried chicken dinner (I got chicken fried steak and biscuits).

The kittens ate, and are now raising hell, tearing up the house, playing.  The painkillers are clearly working.  

I'm to give them some pain meds twice a day for a few days.  I don't think they will need them for long.  

I'm a little worried they will over do it and tear something.  Gravy, of course, is banned from the shower enclosure for a week or so.  He loves to clamber into the shower when I bathe.  He doesn't get under the water, kind of on the edges, just getting damp but enjoying every second.  But, not for a while.  A wet incision would be Bad.  

Torbie is hiding in my room.  Smart girl.  

Baby Girl is watching them.  

So, Yay!  Tomorrow off.  Should be fun - even though we're predicted rain the next couple days.  Saturday looks to be thunderstorms.