Charlie wants Mitch’s attention
Charlie full on trying to not fall asleep on Mitch’s back
He didn’t succeed. Mitch has a very comfortable back.
A woman's view of hunting…with men
guns, dogs and birds
If I survive the weekend, it will be a miracle. Friday started off with great promise. I had an appointment to get my stitches out, woo hoo! That meant a real shower in my future. One that doesn’t have my foot and lower leg triple bagged to stay dry. A shower that I could luxuriate in letting hot water wash over me with a wonderfully scented shower gel that I could lather up all over. Ah, heaven.
But no, that is not in my future, not for another week. My doctor unwrapped my foot, poked at my toes and wiggled them around to show me that everything is healing nicely even though my foot was very swollen. After the sharp intakes of air and scrunching my face into grotesque masks of pain, the doctor left to get some contraption he said would help bring down the swelling. Mitch told me how proud he was of me. I asked him what he meant and he said he was surprised I didn’t start swearing. I said that it was close, but I controlled myself. I didn’t want the doctor to run fleeing the room in fear for his life.
He came back in with a compression squeezer that I have no intention of putting on because it was terribly painful when he slipped it on and dragged it past my stitches. The doctor then pulled at two of my stitches and explained that though the incision was not gaping, it was not healed enough to remove the rest of the stitches. Did I mention how much it hurt to have the two stitches removed? Anyway after all of the manipulation, foot squeezing and stitch pulling, I was ready to go home and lay down for a while. Plus I was so bummed out that I didn’t get my stitches out.
After resting for a while, I got up to get something unimportant, lost my balance and fell backwards hitting the back of my skull on my nightstand. God that hurt so bad. Crying and grabbing the back of my head to feel for blood, luckily I didn’t split my skull open but there was a huge lump already. I dragged myself over to where I could reach my cellphone and called Mitch who was walking the dogs, because I wasn’t sure how bad it was and I was scared. It was this awful stabbing pain that felt like a thousand needles in the back of my head. All I could think of was that I had fractured my skull. Mitch rushed back, helped me off the floor and put me back in bed. He examined my head and got ice packs to help bring down the large knot at the base of my skull. I think I scared him as much as I scared me. No blurred vision, no nausea and my pupils worked so we decided not to go to the emergency room. Just rest and watch me. Sorry not this time Aflac.
Saturday I woke up, surprise I didn’t die in my sleep. I’m really glad for that. We went to the grocery store, my first outing since other than work and the doctor’s office I’ve been pretty house bound. The day was pleasant, clear skies and mild, Mitch was going to mow and weed eat the yard. This is my job because when Mitch mows or weed eats, he mows and weed eats everything growing. It doesn’t matter what it is. It’s in the way, so it has to go. In order for that to not happen, Mitch set me up in a chair on the porch and with blue flags he walked around the yard pointing at various plants waiting for a mow or no mow sign from me. If I gave the no mow sign he planted a blue flag next to it. The grass was terribly tall, so mowing would take a while.
The dogs and I decided to go back in the house while Mitch slaved away. I opened the kitchen door let the dogs in and started in myself. I hopped in got the left crutch planted when the door closed on the right crutch throwing me off balance. I started to fall forward and accidentally put weight on my left foot. As soon as I realized what I was doing I lifted my foot which caused me to fall forward to my knees. There is no way I could stand up from that position so I had to drag myself to the bathroom and pulled myself up on the toilet. I am so graceful.
Please just let survive this weekend.
Poor Charlie, he’s having a bit of a struggle getting used to this total disruption into his world. Most dogs prefer a routine. They like a schedule, getting fed at a certain time every day, taking their walks at the same time daily and knowing that you’ll be there for loves are their whole world. Charlie is the poster dog for routineness. So these latest events, my surgery, Mitch walking the dogs alone in the evenings and our close friend walking them in the mornings and not at the usual 4:30am pre-surgery routine has thrown Charlie for a real loop.
He’s become clingier, staying very close to me or if I’m not in bed, laying in my spot. He has started growling at all of us. Charlie has always been a bit psychotic, but now he’s going round the bend. He was lying in his bed by the bedroom door when Orso walked in from the living room. Charlie growled at Orso and wouldn’t let him in the bedroom. Orso sat in the living room looking very pathetic waiting for me to get out of bed and crutch over to the doorway, blocking Charlie so that he could come into the bedroom.
Last night I came into the bedroom to find Charlie lying in my spot all cozy and had no intention of moving. I told him to go and nudged him, he responded by growling at me. I looked down at him and thought, “Are you kidding me? Not me! Huh uh!” So I told him “off” in no uncertain terms and gave him another nudge, to which Charlie responded by getting up, giving me a deep open throated growl, jumped off the bed and when to sit in his dog bed looking very unrepentant. I’m pretty sure that he was thinking, “How dare she make me move. I was there first.” I think he was plotting to eat me in the night while I slept.
Charlie doesn’t handle change well and this is clearly apparent with his behavior. When we brought Orso home for the first time Charlie wanted to kill him and tried a few times. That took hiring an animal behaviorist to get back to a harmonious house. I’m not sure how to fix this new wrinkle. I’m at a total loss.
Short of tranquilizers, for him not me, I am not sure what to do.
The moon hung low on the horizon huge and very bright. Walking down the road, the woman felt as though someone or something was watching her. She tried to shake off the feeling and kept walking. Cara just had to get out and clear her head. She and Ryan were fighting more and more. The fights were becoming more vicious and hurtful. Cara was tired of the arguments and wanted to make some changes in her life. All Cara wanted was some peace and balance in her life.
Deep in thought she didn’t notice the shadowy figure moving in unison with her down the road. Cara rounded the bend and once again felt another presence. She looked back over her shoulder but didn’t see anything. Turning back around Cara came face to face with a tall ominous figure. In the glow of the moonlight it seemed as if his eyes glowed in the dark staring intently into hers. She tried to take a step back but was frozen in the road unable to move away from the fierce gaze.
As the figure reached toward her, Cara tried to scream but no sound came out of her open mouth. Instead the figure leaned in and pulled her toward him lowering his head toward hers. Cara felt his touch so tender against her lips moving down toward her throat, wanted to scream and be free but at the same time felt so alive, tingling with the anticipation of what was to come. She felt his mouth on her throat caressing the skin, then a tingling sensation and suddenly she felt light and faraway. As her life dimmed away she looked skyward and suddenly wished she hadn’t gone on the walk.
Well today is the day. This luxurious spa vacation is over. Today I go back to work. This is going to be fun, I keep telling myself. I’m going to go back to a mountain of unread emails and scribbled notes left on my keyboard, saying “Welcome back I need this done before 8am” (I usually get there about 6:15am) or “Glad you are back, please look into this and explain how this could have happened” (the fact that walking is a going to be a challenge is beside the point).
Friends are worried and don’t want me to go in quite as early because no one else is there, that’s the reason I go in early, no one else is there. I get more done in the early morning quiet. But my new biggest challenge will be trying to get in the doors at work. Early birds have to scan a badge against an electronic reader on the side of the entry wall wedged behind a concrete standing ashtray about five feet from the first set of doors. The doors are unlocked for about three to five seconds, so I have to hobble from behind the giant ashtray to the doors in under four seconds. No hill for a stepper. Then if I’m successful there I have to enter a passcode on the keypad against the sidewall again about five feet from the second set of doors. The floor is clear of obstacles here so I have a better chance of getting to the doors before they re-lock leaving me stuck in the entryway waiting for someone to come rescue me.
If I am successful there, then the rest will be a cakewalk. Hobble through the building, open the first fire door, crutch myself up two flights of stairs and open the second fire door at the top of the stairs without knocking myself down one of the flights of stairs. Easy peasy.
Once I’m through the door chaos awaits. Maybe I should take my drugs with me. Mitch assures me that this will be an adventure. I think he secretly wants me to stay home.
This is going to be a long three months. It’s only been five days since my surgery and I am so bored. I am so bored that I’m trying my hand at poetry. Below are my first two attempts.
Gentle Waves
Sitting on the end of the dock
Staring at the vastness of water
Lost in thought
Dreaming of floating away
On the soft gentle waves
Free of all physical boundaries.
The Warmth on My Face
I lean back in my chair
Face tilted toward the light
Feeling the warmth
Washing over me
Making me smile.
We have hatchlings! Just about two weeks to the day that I discovered the Robin’s nest and the three eggs have now hatched. Now we have three tiny bodies that are all mouths chirping away mouths open waiting impatiently for their meals.
Everyday Mitch and I would peek out the kitchen window to check on mama to make sure she was still there and hadn’t abandoned the nest. Each time the nest was empty I worried that she wasn’t coming back. Weird huh, worrying about a bird and its nest? It’s not like Robins are close to extinction or that I’m an extremist ornithologist. Normally I don’t think twice about a bird’s nest and its contents. The only time I even notice one is when I see broken eggshells on the ground or the nest gets blown out of the tree.
I think the reason this time is different is because the nest is so low to the ground, I can see in the nest standing next to the Hibiscus bush. Being five foot two is low to the ground. No concerns for overhead height restrictions here. We have watched and worried about predators getting too close. There are a lot of cats and snakes here. I have worried about the weather, the rain and the cool temperatures. You would think it was my nest and my eggs.
Now though we hatchlings and new worries. Will the predators get to them, will they go out and party missing bird curfew? I want to get close and take pictures but knowing mom and dad will be close by, I’m not that stupid. I like my head without any holes from bird beaks or worse I don’t want the parents to abandon the nest leaving the babies.
But for now we hatchlings and I get to watch them grow.
My knee scooter was delivered yesterday, a device designed to help me stay mobile without putting any weight on my foot. I have tried to preplan for everything knowing I wouldn’t be able to walk for three months. I bought extra skirts to wear, figuring that trying to pull slacks on over this big honking bandage would be a bit of a challenge. I waited for the weather to warm up before having the surgery so my naked toes wouldn’t get cold in the snow. I bought a backpack to be able to haul everything so that my purse wouldn’t slip off my shoulder throwing me off balance and causing me to crash and burn. Or as Mitch describes it, that “Black Hole” I carry around.
I decided not to put in a garden this year because Mitch would be doing most of the work for three months. I know that the harvest won’t be until August or September, but I figure that he has enough to do without me unnecessarily adding to it. I have friends coming to walk the dogs in the morning while Mitch is at work so the heathens don’t get short changed.
My doctor had described the scooter as small, lightweight and collapsible so I figured that I would break it down and hook it to my backpack and drag it up the stairs with me while using my crutches. You see, coming and going in and out of our home involves stairs. Even though we live in a ranch style house, there are stairs going up to the garage to get in the car. There are stairs going down to the street to get the mail and daily paper. There are stairs to go out to the yard, just to enjoy a bit of fresh air. That’s because our house was built into the side of a hill. Stairs everywhere.
So much for preplanning, this is the Hemi of scooters. It’s very nice, don’t get me wrong, sturdy, padded knee pad, hand brakes left and right and pre-adjusted to my height. But small and lightweight it is not! This thing is huge. I am not going to be strapping it onto my back and hauling it around. Now I have figure out how to get it and me up the stairs to get it in the car, out of the car and up the two flights of stairs at work.
So much for trying to preplan.
The true test of any relationship comes when one member, in this case me, becomes disabled albeit short term and has to rely pretty much on the other for just about everything. Poor Mitch, good thing he has the patience of Job. I am stubborn, willful and very independent. So now being dependent upon another is a tough pill to swallow, even though I am truly grateful he is here.
Yesterday I had foot surgery to remove a bunion and have two toes shortened. Sounds like fun, huh? There is even a name for it, a bunionectomy. There were bones removed and bones shaved off, and because of that I can’t put any weight on my left foot for three months. Compliments of wearing cute shoes years ago. I guess we won’t be going dancing anytime soon.
Now Mitch has to do double duty. Walking the dogs, laundry, cooking and all the yard work. Granted, he already does all of the laundry and all of the ironing woohoo! Walking the dogs has been a joint effort on our part but now it’s all his. Cooking and yard work are my domains. I have to rely on Mitch to not mow down everything in his path. God grant me patience.
Not only does he have to take up my slack, but he has to take care of me. Following me on my crutches and righting me before I crash and burn. Grace is my middle name, even with two good feet. Poor man, he is going to be very busy.
I had been planning this surgery for months, and trying to get prepared as best as we could. I have been practicing going up and down stairs on my crutches loaded with a heavy backpack, getting in and out of the car. It’s my left foot so driving should be good. Practice is good but the real thing is going to be scary at best. My plan is to go back to work next week and bonus – I work on the second floor. No elevators, yea! Just lots and lots of stairs. I will be the crutch queen by the end of the upcoming three months.
Please pray for Mitch.