GETTING OUT OF MY HEAD

 God has got to be a very, very busy entity. I mean, He is in charge of the entire universe so why I would ever think that He has anything to do with events in my life is ridiculous.  Except it is not ridiculous, in fact it just so happens that I see His hand in just about every facet of my life.  Just the fact that I am here in Michigan with this man is totally God's work because left to my own devices I would be single and drunk for the rest of my life.  In stead God saw that I needed to be needed and so he brought me The Man.

In fact, if we want to go all the way back to 1966 when I graduated from college and suddenly realized I should have a job God put a representative from Central Islip School District at my college where I was hired on the spot for a position as a Kindergarten teacher. Going back even further to 1955 when I was in fourth grade I was chosen to go help the kindergarten teacher for a day and from that day on my goal was to teach these little five year olds.  Being an only child I had no siblings and none of my neighbors had little children so entering that kindergarten classroom all those years ago was like entering a world that I didn't even know existed and I fell in love with it immediately. 

Fast forward to college where I could easily have flunked out my Sophomore year God provided me with new friends who would teach me how to study and help get me through all those dull and boring classes necessary for a teaching degree.  Finding the job in CI led me to meet my husband-to-be and in turn he was put in my path to help me mature and become the person I am today.  Without Husband I would probably still be partying, broke and without a home or a bank account that provides me with a very good life.  Not to mention the absolute best part of marriage . . .  my children and grand children. 

All this was given to me as a gift from God . . .   And in return I try each and every day to "Do His Will". Life isn't about what you want, it's about what God wants and this is what I constantly have to remember when I"m feeling down. 

And I have been feeling down these past two weeks.  I've been feeling home sick and lonesome for those wonderful grand kids of mine. I miss my daughter and sons and their children.  I miss my Florida home and familiar surroundings. I miss my Florida friends and neighbors and my little garden. I even miss the two hundred degree with three hundred percent humidity days.  Oh Wait . . . I do NOT miss that ! 

It's not that I don't love this wonderful place up here and the kind man that puts up with me. I mean where else could you have your own private herd of deer that come to visit every evening just outside the back door.  At this moment I am sitting just inside the big sliding glass door in the parlor watching five deer and two big sand cranes walking around not a hundred feet away.  It's wonderful , , , but it is not home.

And so when I got feeling sad and sorry for myself this past weekend I got to thinking just why am I here? I mean, I could be anywhere that I wanted to be. Have no "obligation" to be here, no promises were made to stay here for the summer. I could just pick up and leave at any time.  The Man would understand, (because that is the good person that he is), and I could fly home and then fly back in a few weeks when I was recharged. All these thoughts played through my head and I was almost convincing myself that it would be OK to leave The Man on his own for a while. I talked to God Saturday afternoon as I drove to mass and then home again. (Conversations with God are quite common for me when I am in the car alone.) I asked God to let me know what He wanted me to do and this morning He answered me. 

Part of the reason I have been wanting to go home is to see my doctors and catch up on some long overdue appointments that should have been done back in March when Covid shut everything down.  I ALWAYS have some sort of dumb physical issue plaguing me and I really wanted to see my Florida doctors who know me and take care of me. This craziness with my leg and foot had me really wanting to see my familiar physicians but flying to Florida would mean chancing getting Covid and worse, bringing it back to The Man.  I knew this but my selfish brain was rationalizing and telling me I should just think of my self and make the trip. (Good old Satan loves to play with our brains and he puts all sorts of thoughts in our heads.) 

But God is stronger and this morning I got an appointment with a wonderful doctor up here that The Man uses when he needs something immediately and can't get to the VA that is an hour away. I have met Dr. Hartman several times in the past four years when The Man has gone to see him so I knew I liked him.  My visit to him today was EXCELLENT !  He spent about forty minutes with me and we worked out some of the mysteries of my leg and foot. I came out of there feeling great and knowing that I did not have to run home like a baby to see a "good" doctor.  But knowing me like He does God knew I needed a little extra reassurance that I was indeed where I was supposed to be doing what He wants me to do. When I got home The Man was taking a nap, which he does almost every day. But today he slept over two hours and I was starting to get concerned when he shuffled out of the bedroom .  He still looked tired and when I asked him if he was all right he told me he was just not feeling right.  He had started a new medication on Saturday and he thought maybe it was making him feel out of sorts so he was going to stop the medication. I suggested he call the prescribing doctor and talk to her first just in case.  An hour later and several calls back and forth he feels better mentally but is still not feeling great physically.  I made him some soup and sent him back to bed for the evening. 

God wants me HERE !  The Man is not healthy and I am totally convinced that God has me here in The Man's life to take care of him. He's not a healthy man by any means but he has some things in his life that he needs to work on while he is still around.  I see it that I'm here to help him get those things done. 

Is that prideful ? Am I reading this all the wrong way ?  Who knows.  What I do know is that I feel so much better this evening knowing I have made the right decision to stay here and I also know that no matter what God wants of me He won't have me doing it alone.  

DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT ??

Please correct me if I am wrong, (and I have been known to be wrong once or twice in my seventy five years), but I always thought the point of making an appointment was so that you have a specific time to be in a specific place to complete a specific task.  By having an appointment all parties involved know ahead of time just who will be where at a particular time to do whatever.  That way everyone is prepared with the necessary tools to accomplish the task at hand. We make appointments with doctors so that the doctor will have our records and medical history all ready in order to access our current situation. We make appointments for job interviews, lunches with friends and at the Motor Vehicle Department. (Although that last one is a joke because you NEVER get out of the DMV in less than a day whether you have an appointment or not.)  We make appointments so that we can choose a time we like and so that the other parties involved are not waiting around twiddling their fingers waiting for us to show up or vice versa.   Appointments are GOOD ! 

 I like making appointments and filling in the little boxes on my calendar so that all I have to do is look at my calendar on the wall and know just what my week/day is going to involve.  I LOVE it when I can see an empty box on my calendar and know I have nothing planned for that particular day. It is like Christmas to have a "free" day and my mind runs rampant with the possibilities of what I will do with all that free time. (Usually those plans never come to fruition but its fun to dream.)  Likewise I like knowing a week ahead of time just where I need to be at a given time on a given day so that I can plan around those upcoming appointments.

SO . . . Why does The Man arrive at an appointment forty-five minutes early and then get pissed when he can not be seen immediately ?  This is my "Point to Ponder" for today.  

Every Tuesday and Thursday The Man has a standing appointment to attend an hour long session of Pulmonary Rehab at a hospital that is a forty-five minute drive away from his house.  This "class" that he attends has three hospital staff workers in attendance to monitor the people who are "working out".  The class runs from twelve noon until one o'clock. I don't know what the staff does before and after this class but I do know they are there for the pulmonary session from 12:00 -1:00.  It is during this ONE HOUR time slot that The Man is expected to be in attendance. 

How good are your math skills ?         If a train leaves the station heading East . . . .  OH Wait . . .  That's not the math problem I was talking about.      My math problem is: If a Man has an APPOINTMENT to attend a class at twelve noon and it will take him forty five minutes to drive to this class what time does he have to leave his house to get to the appointment on time?   According to my calculations I have deduced The Man should leave his house forty -five minutes before the noon appointment which would mean he should leave his house no later than eleven-fifteen.  Did I do the math correctly ?

I do realize that in order to get to an appointment on time one should usually factor in an extra fifteen to thirty minutes for the unexpected. There could be road construction, fog, car problems, traffic or an invading horde of Mongolian grass hoppers.  You just never know so it is always wise to leave a little extra travel time "JUST IN CASE".  So with all this in mind WHY does The Man begin pacing the kitchen "waiting" for me an hour and forty five minutes before his scheduled appointment?  I understand an HOUR before.    I understand FORTY-FIVE MINUTES before but NOT an hour AND forty-five minutes.

EVERY Tuesday and Thursday this is exactly what happens at ten fifteen each of those days . . . At about nine fifteen The Man wakes me up so that I can "GET READY" to ride with him to rehab.  As I have told you in the past I can get out of bed and be ready to roll in less than twenty minutes but he insists on waking me an hour and a half earlier.  (The fact that it is taken for granted that I will accompany The Man each Tuesday and Thursday has not been brought up for discussion. I do believe The Man is fully capable of making this trip ALONE but then again maybe he is not. So although I would MUCH rather have a couple of hours to myself while he is at rehab I ride along with him, sit in the car for an hour while he is in working out and then ride home with him. It is a great time for me to sit and so nothing, which I am becoming VERY good at, but is it really necessary?). 

After The Man wakes me, (he has been up for at least two hours at this point because it takes him that long to wake up and get ready), I get up and ready to go in about a half hour.  (I try to "drag my feet" in order to not be ready too soon otherwise we would be leaving the house at nine thirty.) By nine forty-five The Man is starting to get fidgety because, after all, he HAS been up and ready for at least three hours.  I purposely get something to eat for breakfast and take my time eating while he is now moving closer and closer to the door. So far I have managed to slow him down enough that we arrive at the twelve noon rehab appointment only forty five minutes early. Each day that we get there this early The Man is "surprised" that we are there so quickly.   DUH !   By the time he gets himself out of the car and into the facility he is at least a half hour early for the class.  

Little did the staff realize that when The Man arrived ten minutes early on the first day and they told him it was OK that this would escalate by five minutes each session. I figure by the middle of September we will be going to Rehab on Monday and Wednesday.

NO PARKING !!! OR STANDING !!!! OR DRIVING !!!

 I must be feeling much better because The Man is annoying the hell out of me.  That is always a good sign.  Once again I am in total disbelief regarding the Male Brain and how it operates, if it operates at all.

Let me first try to give you an idea of the property we are living on. It is BEAUTIFUL !  The Man's house sits at the end of a long "U" shaped driveway.  When you turn in off of Days River Road you follow the dirt track through the woods for about two hundred feet where it opens up to a "field" where the house, barn and garage sit. The garage is at the end of the drive way, going another hundred feet or so sits the house and another hundred feet past the house is the barn.  The property is surrounded on three sides by woods and on the West side, about a quarter of a mile away, across two other fields is the "highway". 

When we turn in off Days River Road we drive up the first and less used driveway which brings us past the "front" or West side of the house. We drive across the yard, turn left between the barn and the South side of the house and then turn left again to park outside the back door on the East side of the house.  The Man needs to park right outside the door of the house so he only has to walk about six steps to the door where his oxygen hose awaits. (The hose is attached to the concentrator that sits in the kitchen and is always running.) In order to walk the six steps from the car to the house The Man needs his portable oxygen machine that he uses while driving. (so far it provides sufficient air for driving but that will eventually not be enough and he will have to go to a tank or portable concentrator.  When we travel in the RV he is hooked up to a portable concentrator but for the car he is good with the little portable machine that is about the size of a Stephen King novel.)

Anyway . . . .   The car is parked outside the back door along with the ride on lawn mower, the tractor and a few feet further away, the RV. It is a Hill Billy parking lot. All the vehicles are within walking distance for The Man and each vehicle is equipped with its own tank of oxygen. It is a well thought out arrangement.  I could care less about what is parked outside and where it is parked because we are in the country and there are no neighbors that we have to be fancy for.  

Next to this side of the house there is a small cement patio with a round table and four chairs. (Remember the wrought iron chair I dropped on my toe? This is where it came from.). Between this patio and the garage is a LARGE Maple tree with a big, heavy wooden picnic table sitting in the shade of the tree.  It's a wonderful spot and I love to sit out here. Up until this year this picnic table sat out on the grass in the sun near the tractor and lawn mower. I got some guys to move it under the tree so I can sit out there and, well, have a picnic.)

But there is ONE thing that disrupts this perfect setting . . .  The septic tank . . .  This necessity of country living is buried about twelve feet straight out from the back door.  And NOTHING . . . I MEAN NOTHING . . .  must ever be parked, driven or stood upon this most sacred depository.  (I have never had to deal with a septic tank just outside my door so this is all new to me.  When I lived on Long Island we had a cesspool but it was located out in the middle of the front lawn where no one drove.) 

Now considering the amount of vehicles that inhabit the space on this side of the house it is amazing to me that no one who visits has ever parked here. But anyone who knows The Man also knows where the septic tank is and is sure to stay far, far away.  Most people park next to the Maple tree and the patio but occasionally an unsuspecting traveler will drive straight ahead when entering the "main" driveway and park up close to the house.  There is an old laundry drying arrangement made up of two "T" shaped metal poles with rope strung between them.  This contraption sits directly between the septic tank and the area at the end of the driveway.  For many years this has been the "Stop" Sign so to speak to keep people from driving too close to where the septic tank is. Although there was one woman who drove straight up the driveway and parked UNDER the drying rack.  The Man had a canary and made her move her car immediately. (Correct me if I'm wrong but aren't septic tanks made of concrete ??? Aren't roads made of concrete? I'm just saying . . . )

About a week ago we were sitting out on the patio and The Man announced that he would like to take down the old laundry drying rack seeing how we NEVER EVER hang anything outside.  I replied that this was probably a very good idea. (Now just because he is thinking about this now does NOT mean this is going to happen any time in the next century.) He continued to say that he really would like to take the drying rack down BUT . . .   (And here is where I am questioning his sanity.) . . . if he takes the drying rack down then people won't know they shouldn't park there and they will end up parking on top of the septic tank. (A reasonable assumption.) SO I suggested he just purchase a "DO NOT PARK" sign, stick it in the ground in front of the septic tank that would be that.  HIS solution to this problem is to move the picnic table,  (that weighs about five hundred pounds), over to the grass in front of the septic tank.  

I have always assumed that picnic tables were made to sit at when you are having a picnic. Placing this table where he wants it means it is now in the full sun ALL day and it is sitting nearly on top of a smelly septic tank. (Yes, when the conditions are right there is a distinct odor wafting through the air in the vicinity of "The Hillbilly Parking Lot". ) I do not think I or anyone else would enjoy sitting in the hot sun having a picnic when the air smells like . . . well . . . a septic tank.  The Man's reasoning is that a picnic table will keep people from parking in that spot as opposed to a sign that says, "NO PARKING" .   Granted the table IS larger than a sign but I think it is a little extreme. 

Especially when I know I am the one who would be asked to move the damn thing !  

MICHIGAN MALADIES

 There should be a warning sign in flashing bright lights posted at the Michigan state line saying

"WARNING !!!!!  ENTERING THIS STATE COULD BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR HELTH !"

We left Florida in mid May and arrived in the UP three days later. I thought I was in fairly good health when I left home but since arriving here I am being plagued by numerous WEIRD health issues. And I do mean weird ! And of course being in a different state I have no doctors up here, only the small walk-in clinic that I use in "emergencies".  

If you have been following my blog you are aware of some of the crazy things I'm experiencing but today I thought I would just make a list to see if any of it makes sense to me or anyone out there reading this. 

I have always had back problems probably because I have always been fat.  Back issues and "obesity" go hand in hand and up to this point I was willing to put up with the occasional twinges and debilitating pain that would strike at the most inopportune times if it meant I could continue to eat ice cream and cake. Having discovered that regular visits to the chiropractor and the massage therapist keep my back in fairly good working order I have gotten pretty lax about exercise and diet. So after traveling three days in the car to get from Florida to Michigan eating only at fast food stops I fully expected to have some back issues but to my surprise I was fine.  In fact I was better than fine. When we got up here I was all about working outside whacking weeds and pruning trees.  I was having a blast working outside in the cool, breezy Michigan days. I actually managed to go pain free for almost six weeks. I still am having issues with my lousy shoulder that still needs replacing but I could manage that discomfort with some Bayer Back and Body pills.  

Maybe it was the change in weather that started my body falling apart or maybe it was all that gardening catching up to me but about mid-July things started going down hill like an out of control Olympic skier on a ski jump. My back started giving me twinges more often and my knees both started aching and swelling. Then when I dropped the wrought iron chair on my pinkie toe things really started snow balling out of control.  Limping around on a maybe broken toe caused both knees to REALLY start swelling. When the knees swelled I started walking even wackier which then got my sciatic nerve all fired up. I had pains shooting down my right leg, past the swollen knee down to the right foot with its busted pinkie toe. While all that was going on my left hip started flaring up with it's usual tight muscles and achy back. I couldn't sleep on my right side because of the sciatica and I couldn't sleep on my left side because of the bum shoulder.  Can't sleep on my stomach because that irritated the herniated discs in my back and if I try to sleep on my back EVERYTHING starts to hurt.  

It was about at this point that I dug out the heavy duty Tylenol with Codeine that I have left over from some dental surgery a couple of years ago.  Maybe it is mind over matter but it did seem to help enough to get a decent nights sleep.  Which was a good thing because we were going camping for three nights in the RV and I knew I wasn't going to be having much fun if all these aches and pains continued. Thankfully God knew I needed those couple of days away because the entire time we camped I had almost no pain at all.  Apparently it was being saved up for our return. Once back from camping it all hit the fan and that was when I resorted to going to the walk-in where they tried to figure out what was going on but they really didn't have a clue. My pinky toe was no longer black and blue but now I had a strange "bruise" on the side of my knee. It just appeared one day, out of no where with no pain or additional swelling.  One day there was nothing,  the next I had a four inch long black and blue mark. I swear I did not hit it or anything . . . it just appeared.  About a week after that bruise one of my toes on my right foot started to hurt and when I took a shower that night it too had a big bruise right below the nail.  Again, I did not bump it or anything.  As all this was going on I was experiencing the most God Awful pain shooting down my leg from knee to foot. It would just come on and be so painful I would be in tears.  I decided it was the sciatic nerve so I started icing my back on and off all day and went back to the walk-in who once again didn't have a clue.  

Add to all this nonsense my usual tummy troubles that send me running for the potty at the most inconvenient times and the fact that I am hearing voices in my ear . . . oh wait . . . that's just the hearing aid battery telling me it is going dead . . . Oh Thank God . . . I thought for a minute I was really goner.  

Anyway . . .   I COULD/SHOULD take some action here and maybe eat healthier, get more exercise, take less pills, drink a LOT more, (water, not alcohol) and perhaps I would be a lot healthier.  But then what would I have to write about ?  And besides that, NONE of the above aliments is anything compared to the BHZ that has appeared on my face.  (That would be . . . BIG HONKING ZIT!).  Never in my life, even in my most adolescent acne days have I EVER had a zit like this.   I am talking Mt. Vesuvius !  This sucker started a couple of days ago and by this morning had taken over half my lower face and swelled my lip to the point of having difficulty speaking.  (Slight exaggerations here but it hurt like hell!). I have been wiping it down with rubbing alcohol which has done nothing so now I'm trying hot compresses which do seem to be helping.  Meanwhile in the back of my mind I'm wondering if the MRSA infection that I had in March has returned to kill me with giant zits.

Anything is possible up here in the U P !  If the bears don't kill you some random bizarre illness will. 

I AM working on getting myself a doctor up here but that may be another ordeal.  

THE MAN IN THE MOON IS PICKING HIS NOSE

 I had a chat this morning with my Michigan chiropractor who is doing a good job of keeping me standing upright.  Not an easy task when living up here with The Man and his chores.  (How The Man can travel an hour each way, two days a week,  to do pulmonary therapy for an hour of walking on a tread mill and riding a stationary bike but can not feed the deer, carry things in from the car or go anywhere alone is beyond me.). But all that is an entirely different blog.

Back to my conversation with Kevin the chiropractor.  Kevin is a real nice guy and is doing wonders for this stupid pain in my leg. After today's adjustment we stood talking for a few minutes and the conversation came around to men not listening.  He brought it up, not me.  Can't even remember how it happened but he actually admitted that he does not listen to half of what his wife says. She is a lovely young lady and not the sort of person you would choose to tune out as soon as they open their mouthes. In fact she even seems to be a bit quiet but that just may be because she is keeping things "professional". 

This is the FIRST time in my life that I have EVER had a man admit he DOES NOT LISTEN. Amazing and unfortunately I did not get it on tape.  The fact that Kevin admitted this male trait hit home today because of the events of this morning. I staggered out of the bed room at 9:30 AM  to get ready for my 10:15 chiropractor appointment and vaguely wondered why The Man had not gotten me up before this.  He usually wakes me about two hours before we need to go anywhere because it takes him two hours to get out of the house.  I can get out of bed and be out the door in fifteen minutes if necessary, especially when it means getting an extra hour sleep.  So this morning I was surprised at first that he had not gotten me up earlier but then realized EXACTY what the problem was.  The Man had not been listening yesterday or Wednesday when I had told him numerous times during those two days that I had a TEN FIFTEEN chiropractor appointment on Friday.  I understand that my expectations are too high, thinking first of all that The Man is listening to anything I say and secondly that The Man could retain information about anyone but himself for more than two nanoseconds.  But I do believe in miracles so I persist in my hopes. 

I stopped in the kitchen this morning and said, "Did you remember I have a 10;15 chiropractor appointment today?"   I will give you three seconds to guess exactly what The Man said . . .    "You never told me that!" .  . . . Yup !  He actually said those words.  Apparently he really is that stupid or he has a death wish because at that moment I would have hit him up side his head with a 2 X 4 except for the fact that I totally expected that answer.  (It would not have mattered normally because I would have taken the car and gone by myself but with my droopy, tingly foot I am hesitant to drive.  That will come to a quick halt if I keep doing as good as the past two days.)

It was a quiet trip into town, partly because The Man was not totally awake (He had only been awake an hour and a half) and partly because he was busy thinking about what he was going to be doing for the rest of the day, (basically nothing).  I know this because any time he did speak it was to remind me of another thing I had to remind him to do.( Things like, check the mailbox, look for a phone number, and take a pill for his swollen ankles.) One of our stops was to get rid of the sixty or more beer cans that have not been returned for their deposit since May.  Thanks to Covid-19 the only place you can now return cans and bottles is at stores that have automatic machines that you feed the cans into. This is a time consuming task that I got to do before going into the grocery to shop.  (Again . . . taking all the LIGHT WEIGHT empty BEER cans ...I don't drink beer . . . out of the trunk where I had put them last week, putting them into a shopping cart, walking the cart about twenty feet and then standing by the machine feeding the cans into the machine is all WAY TOO STRENUOUS for The Man who drives an hour twice a week to exercise.) So the woman with the bad back and dead foot got to do it all.  (At least I'm not walking like Quasimodo any more.). Once I finished the bottles and cans I went into the grocery store to spend the $13.20 that I had made on the refund.  I had a list for ice cream and $.99 pork shoulder that his brother told us was on sale. I HAD to go get as many pork shoulders as possible because . . .   wait for it . . .   The Man's son is FLYING here in September and he will want to take some pork back with him to Alaska. (Apparently they do not have pigs in Alaska!)   I won't even go there with all that, just know that I humored The Man and shopped for pork. It was at this point that I decided to walk to the back of the store and pick up some yogurt for myself for breakfast. Since I was going down the freezer aisle for The Man's ice cream I also picked up a couple of frozen dinners for the nights when I just don't feel like cooking.  Add to that a couple of fresh peaches, some milk and a THIRTY pack of beer that was also on sale.  

As I was getting into the car after putting everything in the trunk and having been gone for maybe a half hour total The Man says to me, "I didn't think we needed that much."  Which I translated to, "What in God's name did you buy? " And, "What took you so long?"  Thankfully I was taking large gulps of water from my water bottle so I did not have to respond immediately. All the while thinking, "I am going to kill him" . As we drove down the road on the way home he once again asked what I had bought and if  I did get the pork ? I told him I got the pork and it was at that EXACT moment I saw the "lights" go out in his brain. He had now opened "THE NOTHING BOX" in his brain and was no longer with me.

As we drove along  I started to tell him what else I bought but seeing that he was fully immersed in "The Nothing Box" I just stopped talking and thought to myself, "If I said, 'The Man in the Moon is Picking His Nose', would my man notice ?"                  I doubt it ! 

WAKE UP ! YOUR TOE IS RINGING !!!!

I have been "awake" since six this morning.  Well, sort of awake.  I got up to pee at six and never really got back to sleep. Instead I drifted in and out of sleep while my brain composed different blogs that I could write today.  Some titles included, "Power Points of Prayer" (That one may have put you all to sleep),  

"I have a Zit", (I have no idea where that one was going but since I DO have a zit at 75 years old I thought it might be a good start for a blog.) 

"Drugs, Sex and Rock and Roll", (a blast from the 60's) 

And this most recent event, "I Think I swallowed My Battery"

I can't remember the other forty ideas that played through my head during my two and a half hours of sloppy sleep early this morning and I would probably still be flopping around trying to get comfortable except my big toe started ringing.

Yes,  I said my big toe was RINGING !   Well, actually it did not make any noise but it felt exactly like my phone does when I have it on vibrate when someone calls. In my half stupor of "sleep" this morning I first thought I had fallen asleep last night with my phone next to me and it had gotten down to the bottom of the bed where it was resting on my toe.  But that was not the case at all.  The ringing, (vibrating) or to be exact the tingling was coming from my big toe. 

I will take a moment to back up a bit and return to the blog I posted two or three weeks ago talking about the pain in my leg.  I haven't written any more on that topic because although I did not die I have, at several times, wished I was dead . . . just so the pain would stop.  Not really, I NEVER wish I was dead even in the worst of pain but I DO pray like crazy for relief and thankfully God ALWAYS answer my prayers one way or another.  (Did you know you can offer up your pain to God for the poor souls in Purgatory?  You can and I always do but that goes into the "Power Points of Prayer" blog that I will hopefully write one day soon. I'll warn you ahead of time so you can bring your pillow.)

Back to the leg pain . . .   I went to the walk in medical, I had an x-ray of my knee, I took steroids for five days, I returned to the walk in and got different pills and I went to the chiropractor.  All that held the pain at bay long enough, (and here I give total credit to the Lord), for us to go camping last week for four days and three nights at the beautiful Lake Goegebic about three hours from here. During that time my leg was fine and even with sleeping in the RV on fold out beds I slept fantastic and felt wonderful.  BUT . . . when we got back my leg kicked back into hyper drive. The pain comes and goes and is usually manageable and once I find that comfortable spot in the bed I can sleep all night.  So I guess that wasn't enough for Satan or who ever is playing with me because I then started to loose all ability to bend my right foot at the ankle, toes to nose. That charming addition would also come and go, usually proceeded by the pain shooting down my leg and across my foot.  I am told this is called, "Drop Foot" and I DO NOT L IKE IT !!!   I stumbled around here walking like Quasimodo dragging my leg/foot behind me.  It was not pretty or fun and I almost killed myself several times tripping on my dragging foot.  The best was when it happened while I was driving.  Ever try to move a dead foot from the gas to the brake ?   I don't suggest it !

SO . . . with this pleasant little "complication" and one evening of pain so severe I was begging God to make it stop, which he did after about ten minutes. (Sometimes you just have to get his attention and let him know you are serious and then be patient.) I called my friend Theresa who is the smartest person I know when it comes to muscles and nerves.  She walked my brain through different possibilities and although we did not come up with a total diagnosis we did come up with a couple of possibilities, all of which involved further doctor visits.  But she put my mind at ease and really really helped me to get a handle on all this.  

One of the possibilities, which I am leaning toward only because it is the "simple" explanation, is that my sciatic nerve is acting up. It fits all the profiles and because I had a short bout of sciatic pain last winter while in Florida I am thinking this is the problem.

Yesterday I went to the Michigan Chiropractor, Kevin and we went over all the symptoms which he also thought were pointing toward sciatica. I felt really good when I left there and my foot didn't drop once until last night just before I went to bed.  

Then at 8:15 this morning my toe started ringing !   It must have been the chiropractor calling to tell me to come back in tomorrow morning for another adjustment.    

JUNKIEST JUNK DRAWER EVER

I realize that the fact that a "junk Drawer" is called a junk drawer is because it contains . . .  well . . . 

JUNK !  All that stuff that you just don't know where to put it or are too lazy to put away gets shoved into the "Junk Drawer".    I don't think I know of a single person who does NOT have a junk drawer but I'm sure you are out there some where.  The circle of friends that I hang with usually have a "Junk Room" as opposed to only a drawer and that is just as it should be.  People who don't have clutter of some sort stashed somewhere in their home are not to be trusted.  Those are the sort of persons who toss away EVERYTHING that is non essential and to me that is not a good trait.  You NEED some crap in your life to keep you honest and humble. 

BUT . . .   NEVER in my life have I encountered a junk drawer the likes of the one in The Man's kitchen.  

If you have read any of my previous blogs you know that The Man keep EVERY THING !!!!!  The entire property, (not just the house but the large, multi room garage) is filled with STUFF.  We can blame it on his wife and her penchant for "collecting" but since she is deceased well over nine years you really would have thought The Man would have gotten rid of some of the stuff that fills the property. (After all, this is The Man who built an in-ground pool and then filled it back in only four years later because it was too much work.  I guess the clutter that abounds in this place does not require any maintenance so therefor it just remains.  If it were alive and required feeding or walking it probably would have been gone years ago.)

I have finally begun to get The Man cleaning out some stuff but it is a SLOW and PAINFUL process.  I need to choose my timing and enthusiasm very carefully. One of the BIG things I am itching to attack are the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. The kitchen is very very small but has numerous cabinets and drawers ALL filled to overflowing.  The other day I asked if we could go through one drawer that contains all sorts of things like forty two Mellon ballers of varying sizes, at least three ice cream scoops, spatulas and serving spoons up the wazoooooooo.  Seeing how there are only the two of us here and we do NOT cook massive intricate meals I really don't think we need much more than one spatula and one ice cream scoop.  I can't remember the last time I "balled a melon".  When I do cook I REALLY would like to be able to open a drawer, reach into it and see exactly what I wanted without a fifteen minute treasure hunt. 

You would have thought I had asked to rip out his heart . . .  The Man couldn't speak clearly because he was so horrified that I wanted to "get rid" of anything in the precious kitchen drawer.  His immediate answer was, "What if DJ needs some of the stuff in there?" (DJ is The Man's son who lives thirty five hundred miles away in Alaska. DJ has owned his own home for well over twenty five years so I seriously doubt there could be anything in that drawer that "The Boy" would want. ) I explained that I was NOT going to throw anything away, just put all the things we don't use into a box to make some room in the drawer.  It was a NO GO . . . and that drawer remains as jammed packed as it did when I first came here four years ago. 

NEXT on my list of "itchy finger projects" is the "Junk Drawer" which resides in the same tiny kitchen and is filled with . . .   you guessed it . . .  JUNK !!!!!!   But little did I realize just how junkie the junk draw was.  There are only two things that I was aware of residing in this swamp of a drawer.  A pair of scissors and the propane lighter that we use for the fire pit. Those two items sit in the very front of the junk drawer and are the only two things that have seen the light of day in the past three centuries.  I had NO idea what else was residing in there until today.  

I must confess I have been plotting my attack for several weeks now.  I lay awake at night thinking about how and when I will get cleaning out that drawer.  I have seriously thought about getting up in the middle of the night and attacking while the man is sleeping but that is just too devious even for me.  And so today when The Man was sitting at the kitchen table talking to a doctor on the phone I casually opened the drawer and began to take out a few items.  I was very nonchalant hoping The Man would not realize what I was doing but he seems to have an uncanny ability to tell when I am cleaning anything. I could see he was watching my every move and when I had removed about five things he began waving his arms and shaking his head to tell me to stop.  I smiled and waved back and continued to remove a few more things.  

I managed to clear out about three inches from the front of the drawer before I stopped . . . I could tell he was not happy with me and didn't want him to have a stroke while on the phone.  

Here's what I found in that small space at the very front of that drawer . . . in addition to the two items I already mentioned there were a large assortment of nails and screws, several rubber bands and hair clips, some chip clips, three screw drivers, a box of pellets for a pellet gun, two light switches, a couple of boxes of matches with about three matches in each, some old cough drops, a couple of dried up ball point pens, three big old keys AND  . . . a half smoked cigarette.  

I held up the cigarette with a questioning look on my face and he had no response other than the obvious, "I don't know where THAT came from".  

I was allowed to throw out the cigarette but all the other things were put in a plastic bag and set on the kitchen table so he can go through them at a later date to make sure he knows what's in the bag in case he needs any of it !   

And you wonder why I drink !