i like that.
i liked him and his music.
” be happy “
that song just always makes me happy!
i love island style music.
i call it island music.
it has an ease to it. a light heartedness that i love.
and a beat that is guaranteed to make you want to dance.
he died far too young.
important words those.
i have always had some kind of inner strength.
the marine and i both have it.
turns out we had to use it while very young in our lives.
so it was learned early.
we had parents that had it.
is it a dna thing? can it really be passed on?
i don’t know.
there are all kinds of strength.
you might have a clue about this post right there.
i am what you would consider a small person.
even though i weigh a lot more now than i EVER used to!
i never weighed over 105 pounds throughout my adult life.
and now . . .
. . . to make matters worse . . .
alas. alack and as it were.
i’ve even shrunk an inch in the last two years or so.
now i’m 5 feet 1 inch tall.
it was kinda cool to get to say
i’m 5 two.
5 one just doesn’t have the same clout.
i’ve never really minded being short.
it is a hassle to reach things. like in the grocery store.
but all in all it’s not so bad.
you’re closer to all toilet seats. that’s nice.
even though they tell me my bones are strong . . .
i’ve still shrunk that one inch.
and darn it! i have good posture too.
why on earth can’t i shrink that inch around my waistline instead?
that’s what i want to know.
so that was kind of a rude awakening.
just comes to some of us with age i guess.
i don’t think it happens to everybody. or then maybe it eventually does.
the problem is i didn’t have too much to begin with . . . so i hate to lose any more.
i got my full growth in height at the age of 12.
never grew another inch.
apparently the notice on the back of the visor in cars
applies to me as well ?
and to all of us the size of a healthy
12 year old?
like my tracy too?
but i’m driving!
I CAN”T GET IN THE BACK SEAT!
i actually think very little about it.
and now . . .
i always wear the seat belt and will take my chances with the
deadly air bag.
one day a few years ago . . .
before i started obeying this law to the letter . . .
i was stopped once by an officer who said that i wasn’t wearing my seat belt.
i WAS wearing the bottom part. just not the cross part that laid irritatingly rubbing my neck.
” i’m just going to give you a warning this time. but i want you to start wearing all of it. “
i thanked him profusely and replied
very courteously i thought . . .
” i’m sorry officer. i will. but it’s rather pointless anyway.
it says the air bag is going to kill me . “
he didn’t glare. he just smiled. shook his head and said sternly walking away . . .
” WEAR IT. “
i’m sure he was thinking
” another smart a ~ ~ little old lady “
there are things we do that are not smart.
not wearing your full seat belt is one of them.
i wear it all now.
tell me . . .
what would you think all these things below have in common?
i wasn’t playing tennis at a beautiful country club.
i wasn’t hit by a falling coconut.
wherever it is that
the coconuts fall so alarmingly that they
have to put up that sign !
i wasn’t strenuously paddling a canoe in beautiful waters
i wasn’t climbing those long beautiful stairs
in monmartre in paris.
that is exactly like my new little english solid wood
it now proudly sits
on the wall between my fireplace and big picture window
here in the little
you should see it old bean!
it looks especially lovely with my white wicker chairs.
very english. which i love.
i have a green plant in a large old white round pottery planter on it.
and a large new england style white port~hole mirror on the wall above it.
beautiful and elegant and simple.
there’s a small silver picture frame holding the piece of cardboard
behind the glass
that my jacob wrote a message on to me . . . saying that i’m his buddy.
it’s sitting by the plant on the table.
it’s a treasure you know.
all in all i’m very pleased.
except for the gist of the story.
i mean with the gist.
not the table.
it seems i’m singing the same old song second verse.
on july 9th
5 days after the marine had left for most of this month to
camp in the mountains of colorado
i decided to buy that small solid wood console table
with a useful drawer
for my extra keys … address book …
and small desk clutter of necessary things.
it’s very beautiful. we’ve established that!
i brought it home.
it was also 98 degrees outside.
heat index of 101.
not good for wood.
or even people for that matter.
so the option of leaving it in the car til a cooler day . . .
or weeks later . . .
when the marine would be around to help . . .
not an option.
the marine was to be gone most all of the month.
and in this new place . . . i don’t know my neighbors.
they all work.
these are my feeble excuses.
i had a full cloth bag of groceries and my purse in my right hand.
so i carried the table braced on my hip . . . the way we women do . . .
and held it there with my left out~stretched arm . . .
the sack of groceries and my purse were in my right arm
as i climbed the stairs.
i made the first flight of stairs to monmartre . i mean my apartment
at the landing where i turn and go up the next flight of stairs . . .
i lost my balance
JUST A LITTLE BIT !!!
i twisted to regain it and not drop the table.
big mistake there.
god forbid i should put down the sack of groceries and use BOTH arms.
or even that i make TWO TRIPS
and use both arms to carry the little table.
oh tammy. sometimes with you i simply despair.
i managed to make it to the top
and get the table in place against the wall in my little wren house.
just where i wanted it.
and it’s a good thing.
because by the time i did all that . . . and put the groceries away . . .
the damage was done of course. earlier.
my left arm really hurt.
i’d guessed i’d sprained or strained a few muscles there.
and now . . .
to make an OVER LONG
after 2 weeks of pain that wasn’t getting any better and even getting worse
as a matter of fact
a bit excruciating
enough to make me sick at my stomach
and to raise the old BP to alarming heights . . .
and after a trip to the ER with diagnosed
yet once again
the following week . . .
and by the way . . .
nobody told me what THAT was going to be like!
my julie knows.
the lovely artist blog owner of
‘ i love a cloudy day ‘
it’s wonderful and she’s wonderful.
and it’s in my side bar. you should visit her!
she’s an inspiration.
believe me. she knows.
she knows it’s like tons of machine guns going off in your head.
resounding as if you’re in a metal barrel.
my own went on for a solid 35 minutes.
the tech’s voice kept coming on inside a merciful pause every now and then
” you need to relax. “
it normally would have taken only 20 minutes of that blasting.
so it was my own fault apparently that it took 35.
horrible. just horrible.
it made me think of my beloved whales and dolphins
and all the other sea mammals all over again in the post i just did.
only they die from it being much worse.
i cannot EVEN imagine what it would be like
if it were worse. it was painful even as it was.
the orthopedic surgeon who will operate on my
dislocated shoulder and torn rotator cuff
has sent me to a new cardiologist.
i am not currently operable.
” you have malignant hypertension.
it is dangerous. you could die.
i don’t want to alarm you but unless we get it under control i cannot operate. “
i told him it’s the reason i had to take early retirement at 60.
it was then
it is nothing new to me.
i should have been dead years ago according to the numbers.
AND I’M STILL HERE !!!
but i think i’m beginning to push my luck just a little maybe.
lest you think i’m not taking it seriously enough.
i really am old bean.
i cannot help that i am a smart a ~ ~ little old lady.
it just comes out sometimes! it does!
i am being referred to this new cardiologist to get it down.
i see him on
that’s the soonest they could get me in.
boy these guys are busy.
i really like my orthopedic surgeon.
he’s the same one who set my wrist and hand when i broke it
climbing up on a chair and a phone book to hang a picture
back in 2007.
i broke it right before lunch that day. on my porcelain tile entryway.
i remember thinking . . .
i’ll hang this picture before i have a sandwich.
i climbed precariously. the picture never was hung.
i fell about 6 feet is all. but i landed on that hard surface.
i know what you’re thinking.
i have never claimed to be smart.
i didn’t have insurance having just retired and not yet old enough for
and i couldn’t afford surgery.
but i could afford for him to set it. and he let me pay it out.
and i certainly couldn’t afford the hospital!
so i waited in his waiting room all afternoon.
he stayed after hours in his clinic and set my bones.
all he’d had for lunch that day was one snicker bar.
he told me then that i was
” one tough cookie. “
he had just inserted 4 huge needles full of novacain to numb my arm.
” in the olden days you would just have had me drink whiskey to do this. “
” in the olden days i’d have drunk the whiskey myself before doing this! “
we had a good time.
you have to love a surgeon with a sense of humor!
and he must have been HUNGRY at 7pm with only a snicker bar for lunch!
so when i saw him last week i took him a dozen cookies.
to remember me by.
he said they were much better than a snicker bar.
and i got a big snoopy hug from him.
here we go again old bean.
and as you remember
those of you who had to read and hear all about my
last september in the posts here on the peanut
they’re still in the side bar
the first one is titled . . .
o day on the horizon
and the only other one is . . .
if anyone new to the peanut wants to know the really fun stuff
of the ordeal.
you can read them.
my motto is . . . always . . .
you just might as well laugh if you can.
it’s the magical best medicine of all.
as you also know
it’s not a favorite past time of mine to have this kind of thing going on.
and i have to admit in all truth . . .
last week i was depressed for awhile.
but now i’m fine.
and the marine is nearby . . . not in the mountains now.
another motto i like is for
whatever it is . . .
” this too shall pass. “
” it could be worse “
that’s a good one. the best one really.
stacked up to the holocaust . . . whatever it is . . .
is a piece of cake.
i have NO CAUSE EVER to complain.
that’s one way i handle pain.
i compare anything bad to the people who endured the holocaust.
and it works every time.
it snaps me right out of my own self pity.
i can’t say as i enjoy it. even if i did bring it upon myself.
but then . . . who does enjoy things like this out there? anyone?
you masochists maybe.
there’s one in every crowd.
i’ll leave you with this final thought at my own stupidity
for causing it
i’m very displeased with myself old bean.
there i was thinking i was just short
turns out i’m short and
and all i have to say . . .
even though i’m immensely
my orthopedic surgeon this year
just as i was for my endocrinologist surgeon last year
the anesthesiologist that yelled at them in the OR
” THIS IS NOT SURGICAL PRESSURE!
GET ME HER CARDIOLOGIST ON THE PHONE. NOW! “
hmm . . . in the movies they always say STAT!
but what a guy.
he’s the important one you know.
the one who has your life in his hands.
the rest of ‘em better watch out!
you know who you are . . .
the one that took 10 tries to get an IV started in my
6 tries in one arm. 4 in the other.
FINALLY got it in the back of my hand.
the ones who came in 3 times a day and night putting
painful shots into my belly.
now if they’d been taking out some
from that little belly i wouldn’t have minded.
i’m just sayin’
you know WHOM you are
til soon old bean.
the fun is just starting.