Life Resumes

Ok, I guess it is high time to get back to reality :-)

My computer is up and running again, I just have to get used to a couple of new things. I have graduated to one of Nolan's (5) old computer cases, so that gives you an idea of where I rank on the evolutionary scale, technologically speaking. *sigh*

But the basics work, so I'll attempt to keep my whining to a minimum. I will have to admit that Loren has been working very, very hard on things, so the guy deserves some credit :-) And the fact that he has the stamina to continue that long on a project speaks volumes as to his improved health status. It is difficult to tell which proved the stronger impetus for repair: getting my computer back up, or getting me away from his. Some issues are just too dark to explore.
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This will be a bit of an odd week, since Loren and I leave this afternoon to go up to Rochester. The first of the 3 (monthly) checkups. The orders did NOT arrive, despite Mayo mailing them in such a timely manner last Friday. *rolls eyes* (pardon me if I transfer my complaints from the technological to the medical world) We do know this: report for blood work at 6:30 a.m., which means I have to get by 5. *yawn* I think Loren will get tested for his cholesterol again, so this means certain restrictions on tonight's evening meal. No fatty meats, hardly any dairy products. At least I think that's the routine. I don't know for sure, since WE DIDN'T GET THE ORDERS YET!!

The nice thing is that the heart biopsy can now be performed at the clinic buildings, so no more going to the hospital and then traipsing over to the Mayo complex. Saves on parking fees.

I am not particularly looking forward to going away again. It seems as though we only just returned. And, I swear, if one more person looks at these little ventures as a "vacation" for Loren and I, well........I..........I won't be responsible for my actions.

Spending all day in waiting rooms and offices at the Mecca of Disease is not my idea of a holiday. But, there is always the chance that we'll run into someone we know from the "House." :-)

I'd rant a little more, but I need to pack. Not to mention, set my alarm.

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The Jim-Bob Report

"Good evening, everyone. It's been another raw day in the heartland. Let's go right to our man, Bob, who has been faithfully watching that computer hostage drama unfold. Bob? How are things out Ioway?"

"Well, Jim, cute punnish phrases aside, it's been a day of mixed results. Things were looking rather bleak earlier this morning. It seems the wife, still locked in the embrace of her husband's computer, has taken to writing poetry. Really, really bad poetry. The neighbors around here are starting to get pret-ty scared.....and.....well.....we're all a little nervous."

"So Bob, would you say this points to the woman becoming mentally unhinged? Intellectually unbalanced? Not working with a full compliment of neurotransmitters?"

"Jim, not being a professional psychoanalyst, I would hate to hazard a guess. But, as a husband, I might just say that when you put a female and that much chocolate together, and then throw a random technological failure into the mix, you are just asking for trouble. Not that I would know.....uh.....on a personal level, mind you."

"OK, Bob. All insightful whimsy aside, have there been any new developments besides the allegedly abominable, though surprisingly refreshing free verse that you mentioned.?"

"Yes, Jim. As a matter of fact there have. At approximately 11:00 a.m., that is, this morning, Jim, the emotionally unstable female was seen leaving the house with a teenage daughter at her side. Police determined there was no immediate danger, since they were going shopping and were basically as happy as clams. Something about 'buying out the Goodwill Store,' I believe."

"And Bob, what can you tell us as to the progress being made on the computer repair/upgrade/makeover? Is there anything, anything at all which you have learned?"

"Well Jim, we do have one report that came in, just a moment ago. Witnesses say that a small tendril of smoke was seen wafting up from the general vicinity of the wife's computer. Details are still sketchy, but well placed sources recall hearing some muttering from the husband. It would appear that something did, indeed, bite the dust. The exact identity of the floppy drive is being withheld until notification of kin. "

"Hmmm. That is sobering news. Now, you mentioned the words, 'tendril' and 'wafting.' Quite a pretty little word picture, there, Bobbo. You wouldn't be bucking for a Pulitzer Prize nomination, now would you?"

"Jim! I'm shocked. Really, I am! I........I.........I don't know what to say. Except......well.... I would like to take this opportunity to express my thanks........"

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Eulogy for a Computer

Lonely,
An empty case sits amidst the scattered parts.
Watching.
Waiting.
Forlorn.
Bereft of any innards

It ponders on another time, another place.
Usefulness and pleasure were its only goals.
It thinks.
It mourns.
It weeps.

Oh, who can sing the praises of a working mother board?
Who shall laud that oft neglected flat-green-soldered-nondescript-hunk-of-stuff?

The bells, they toll, and toll, and toll.
And toll, and toll, and toll. *inhales*

But it is not for "thee."
Rather, for a time now lost,
A time not fully prized.

And hard drives. Who can know them?
Who may comprehend their depth?
So storeable, yet giving.
Inscrutable, complex.....

Ah, the knowledge dawns upon us,
An ever widening ripple on a technologic pool.
We browse.
We type.
We "send."

But we do not own, oh no.
For like a cat on slippery paws,
The grinning, square-faced beast makes clear to all
Just who is master, here.

Come back! I do not understand thee,
But I will try.
And until then, I wait. In silence, also,
But not quite yet forlorn.

For he who drives a large brown truck
Will bring back hope renewed.

So sleep.
Dream.
Dream of your deliverance.

And dream of parts that work.

*bows head*

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SPECIAL REPORT!!

"dot dot, da dot dot, da dot dot........"

"We interrupt this program to bring you a Special Report. Jim McDonald, here, with an update on that tense computer hostage situation out in Iowa. We go now to Bob, out in the field. I mean, Bob is LITERALLY out in a field, somewhere in Iowa. Bob? What can you tell us?"

"Well, Jim, we've got some good and bad news, here. The bad news is, that after that semi-load of Dove's Dark Chocolates arrived, the wife seems to have really hunkered down behind her husband's computer. There's the constant sound of smacking lips and little foil wrappers are all OVER the place, Jim. It's really starting to get ugly out here."

"And, Bob, people watching all of this need a little glimmer of hope to hang on to. Can you give us any good news concerning the situation?"

"Jim, I can tell you this. That husband is working round the clock to fix the problem with her computer. Really, you just can't admire the guy enough. In fact, after he's done, I think I'll have a little job for him...."

"OK, Bob. That sounds promising. Now, we hear there are a number of children involved. Can you give us any information as to their emotional state during all of this?"

"That's right, Jim. There are a NUMBER of youngsters in the home. In fact, there are so many, we're having trouble coming up with a definitive figure, but I can promise you this, we are working on it 24/7. I have learned the following: With the onset of the husband's computer being taken hostage, the mother was no longer able to maintain her supervisory teaching role, so the children have been involved in a day long multi-player game of FreeCiv. No reports yet on who has conquered whom, but word has it they are pretty happy campers."

"I'm sure we're all glad to hear that, Bob. Now, any idea as to when this situation could be resolved?"

"Well, Jim, we are not positive yet, but word on the street is that Bill Gates may be flown in for a mediating role."

"WHOA! Bill Gates? Bob, are you sure?"

"It's not for certain, Jim, but it's a real possibility. Suspense is in the air, and we're all just sitting on tinderhooks, here."

"Uh, Bob, I think you mean 'tenterhooks,' don't you?"

"No, Jim, I'm pretty sure it's 'tinderhooks.'"

"Well, Bob, I don't mean to make an issue of this, but I really do believe the correct terminology is 'tenterhooks.'"

*pause* "That reminds me, Jim, which side of that whole "Memogate" thing were you on?"

"OK, folks. Like Bob mentioned, it's really getting ugly out there......."

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Dateline: Iowa

"...and so with the obvious ground swell of support for an official Dark Chocolate Festival Queen in next year's parade, we.....just a moment folks....*cocks ear and listens*....it seems we have some breaking news to report out of Iowa.....we take you now to Bob, in Des Moines. Bob, what can you tell us?"

"Well, Jim, we have a hostage situation, here. The details are fairly sketchy, but I'll give you what I have up to this point. It seems a local husband was upgrading his wife's computer when a rather unfortunate event occurred. *turns aside* Let's see if we can get the local police chief to give us a quick briefing..... Chief Kratz....sir......could we have a few words, please?"

(Cheif Kratz) "What we have here is a very tricky situation. Seems the husband, with his wife's consent, attempted to upgrade her computer......and......and......now it won't boot Windows 2000. *GASPS from barricaded crowds* Yeah, it's really kinda sad. Apparently he promised it would only take a few minutes, and then, well, I guess things went south, plus, she was running low on chocolate and, you know how emotional females can be, {"The audience will please disregard that last statement. Calls for prejudice against the plaintiff, and, well, women in general. Go ahead, chief..."} *aHEM*..."yes, well, so the wife took over her husband's computer, logged him off Instant Messenger and claimed she would not relinquish it until her computer was fixed."

"Thanks, Chief. And, if I may ask one more question: Rumors have been circulating that the wife can no longer play her music CD's? No more Big Band, Opera, Bluegrass or Vilvaldi? *major, MAJOR gasps from crowd* "Uh.... I can neither confirm nor deny that at this time."

OK, Jim. That's the latest, here in Iowa. A neighbor who agreed to speak only on the condition of anonymity expressed concern that the alleged hostage taker was quite attached to her own computer, has been recently diagnosed with "blog withdrawal syndrome" and is said to be close to tears. So, as you can see, the situation remains rather fluid. Back to you, Jim."

"Alright, Bob. Thanks for that report. We will warn our viewers that we may have to pull away from our regularly scheduled programming at any time, if the situation warrants. And now........wait just a moment, folks.....it looks like we have some new developments.....some rather stunning new developments...... Bob? Bob, what can you tell us?"

"Well Jim, things were just beginning to stabilize when out of nowhere we suddenly heard a bloodcurdling yell. It was somewhat incomprehensible, but we've had our electronics people working on it for, oh, five minutes now, and I think we may have something....yes.....here it is. I can play it over the air for our listening audience......"

"I know how to delete your "Bookmarks!" Don't think I won't try it......"

"So, you heard it with your own ears, Jim. The wife is not only holding her husband's computer hostage, but she is now threatening to delete his bookmarked web sites! There must have been some cataclysmic event that pushed her over the edge."

"Throw in the chocolate and nobody gets hurt!...."

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Another Day of Firsts

Nolan, five years old and nearly as big as Ethan (8) lost his first tooth today. It had been precariously connected to his mouth by an ever diminishing strand of flesh. I offered to pull it out. It's a polished technique I have perfected over the years, called, The Sneak Attack. "Let me just look at it...*yank*....oops, looky there, it came out! Well, whaddya know?

But Nolan either doesn't trust me, or had observed this operation on others, and he was not buying it. The little nubbin of calcium finally just fell out, with exclamations of amazement and joy by its owner. Next came the official finding of a tooth depository receptacle, labeling with masking tape and magic marker, followed by the solemn "dropping of the tooth."
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I was privileged to overhear Trevor's first complete sentence. It was morning, and I was engaged in the usual, pointless pre-breakfast exercises. Hamstrings and quadriceps, I believe, with Bach's Brandenburg Concertos playing in the background. Trevor was at a table nearby, industriously building with the amassed Lego's. "I knock down dat!" *CRASH* So, it's official. Another implementer of destruction is amongst us. I can't quite remember what the girls used for their first words. Possibly something like, "Does this designer diaper make me look fat?" (Ok. I confess I made up that part, but boys and girls do play and speak differently)
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I took care of a backlog of trash by dragging it out to the burnpile for my own demolition ritual. Trevor was tagging along, and as I saw him headed for a particularly juicy mud puddle I exhorted, "Trevor! No! Don't go IN the puddle, go a-ROUND!"....*cringe*.... Too late..... He made a perfect home plate slide, with boots, pants and back of coat nicely covered in oozy Iowa mud.
First clothes casualty of the season.
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Speaking of conflagrations, have I ever given my "recipe" for a really great fire? I don't recommend this for just ANY situation, but, when you have several months (or years) of diapers stacked up, it's time to crank it up a notch.

You will need: trash bags, can of mower gas, matches.
Step 1: Take out all the bags of trash to be burned. Set all but one on the burnpile. The one left out must consist mainly of dry paper.
Step 2: Take the can for mower gas and pour a liberal amount into each trash bag. Take pains to not spill any on hands or clothes. Remove gas can from immediate premises by at least 50 ft.
Step 3: Take remaining bag of mostly dry paper and set delicately in center of pile.
Step 4: Carefully light "dry" bag, making sure match is left in this bag and not recklessly flicked onto gasoline saturated trash.
Step 5: With a combination of speed and nonchalance, exit immediate area, turn around and await first "poof/boom"
Step 6: Exhale
Step 7: Don't tell husband

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Lipid Primer, the 2nd

The extraordinary event of a bald eagle alighting nearby this morning, brought about the posting of another picture.(below) I can assure you that this will not be a regular event. I am fully aware of my inadequacies as a photographer. That's why I'm sticking to things I really know. Like, cholesterol.
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Good cholesterol. Bad cholesterol. We've all heard the terms, but what are they, really?

Bad cholesterol, from my understanding, are little punk lipids, dressed in leather with copious amounts of rivets and nose rings. (the rivets being in the leather, and the rings being in the nose) Good cholesterol, on the other hand, are dapper little guys that listen to classical music and always, always do their homework. This is the short, layman's definition.

The real question is: "What makes the "bad guys" SOOooo BAD? And, why do they multiply so quickly?" The answer lies in that age old debate: Nature vs. Nurture. Or, as we progressives like to think of it: Nature vs. Nurture vs. Alien Invaders From a galaxy Far, Far Away.

I speak, of course, of pharmaceutical company reps. We've all seen these people. They are the ones that slip in to see the doctor, while us sickies are left in the waiting room, cooling our heels with a two-year-old copy of Prevention Magazine. They are able to see the doctor during our regularly scheduled appointments because they routinely leave small, sugar-laden bribes with the ladies at the desk. (I have seen this with my very own eyes)

They HAVE to visit with doctors because there are simply not enough of us poor dupes begging our medicos for drugs. Reps must create a need, with both the potential patient and the practitioner. Their real goal having been attained, (getting past the front desk) they then strategically place their self-activating cholesterol atomizers. These are small nondescript objects, which look remarkably like "Glade Plug-ins," and silently permeate the air with highly absorbable, bad cholesterol particles, just waiting for you and your pores to walk by. (reps usually work in pairs, one making surreptitious "placements" while the other distracts the doc)

And those attractive leather cases they are always lugging around? Those do not just carry medicine samples. Oh no. The cases double as miniature inter-galactic transportation devices. The reps visit the doctors' offices, ply them with their wares, and then zip back to their home planet to make more commercials. (Admittedly, I have never seen this happen, but I am almost certain it does, along with a short-term amnesiac substance administered to the doctor. Probably from a fake, complimentary pen)

The commercial then, is an integral part of this whole conspiracy. For, who in their right mind would go to their doctor and beg them for more medication? No, fear must be driven into the heart of each consumer, metaphorically speaking. The doctor cannot be trusted with simply taking tests, assessing results and making his own decisions. The pharmaceutical companies are counting on people running to their doctors in droves and imploring them with requests such as, "Doc, you've gotta give me a cholesterol lowering drug, before I run into a glass door while leaving the gym!"

Well, that about does it for today's tutorial. So many fun facts. So little time.....

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Someone makes a wrong turn at the Mississippi.

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"Baldy" inspects the surrounding fields, while two admiring crows look on. To see a better photo that Sharon took, click here.

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You're Never Too Old to Act Immature

Hah! And, again I say, "Hot doggies!"

I decided to join the picto-band wagon and try posting a photo. The final product was the result of much tribulation and whining, not to mention adamant refusals to ask my husband for help. (I don't have a problem with pride, really, I don't)

First I had to dig the "new" digital camera out of its box and *choke and gag* look at the manual. I actually figured out the bare minimal details by myself, with the exception of having to ask Sharon how to put the lens cap back on. (really, why don't they just tell you to turn it off, first? Because they want you to feel humiliated, that's why!)

But I actually succeeded in taking a few pictures all by my little ol' self. *smirk* Then, after plugging the thing into my computer, again by myself, *double smirk* I did have to ask Sharon how to stick them in a file. Of course, I will never be able to replicate this process, but, I'll worry about that later.

Next, came the arduous and exasperating process of following those simple instructions as to putting a picture on "Blogger." It's a piece of cake, really. You merely download two applications, install them, and then get totally confused as to how to make them work together. What follows is an hour or more of hopeless frustration that nearly brings one to tears, BUT, at least you haven't asked your husband for help. Finally, after ranting to a couple of people on IM who wonder how "Ma" suddenly turned into the "Wicked Witch of the Iowa Plains," you shut down your computer, secure in the knowledge that you are utterly and totally exasperted AND you get to try it all over again tomorrow.

(next morning) After waking up to a dusting of snow, and trying not to remember how people down south are posting photos of flowers and buildings glowing in the sunset, you take one more picture, hook the camera up to the computer, and find that for some miraculous reason, the pictures now all appear in the magic "tray," in the magic program, which will magically transport the picture to one's blog. (by magic)

Unfortunately, after carefully following the "help" instructions, this magic transition does not take place. You nab your number 1 son, who is magically walking by at just this very moment, and start to whine, just a little. He makes a quick assessment, and says, "Try this...." Presto, chango, it works! And the best part? The instructions were WRONG! They left out a crucial step. I am VINDICATED!! And what is even better, Jason commented over my shoulder, "This is complicated!" "It is? You mean, I have accomplished something complicated AND the instructions were wrong?" *triple smirk*

It just doesn't get any better than this.

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Who said spring was just around the corner?

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Dateline: Cholesterol

Okay! "Ma," this is the first day of the rest of your life!

We are going to lick this high cholesterol business, or drive everyone nuts, trying.

Breakfast: instead of the usual two egg omelet, wrapped around 4 oz of melting cheese, the kind that is all warm and stringy and lovely....*slaps face* ("Snap out of it, Ma!") I opted for 1 1/2 bowls of healthy, semi-whole grain cereal. Or, that could have been 1 1/2 grains of cereal in semi-clean bowls, I don't remember. (if you think the two eggs per day was a lot, I used to have three each morning)

Yes, we are really taking this seriously. I figure that when the weather moderates, I can get back into my 4 mile a day walks. That, and an altered diet ought to put things aright. If worse comes to worse, I can always have cholestro-suction done. That's where they insert small tubes into each blood cell and lure the bad cholesterol out by hanging large hunks of meat, eggs and butter just outside their cell doors.

Naturally, this is a time consuming process. This entails a whole lotta tubes. That is why it is only used as a method of last resort. (Although, if you do use this approach, you automatically get enrolled in a reality television show that involves coming down the stairs in an evening gown before myriads of crying relatives. Certainly an added incentive.)

Well, that's all for this morning's HDL Report.

More interesting facts concerning cholesterol will be made available, just as soon as I make them up.

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A Quiet Sunday

'Tis Sunday afternoon. The flurry of the morning has come and gone and Pavarotti is singing to me (personally) from my computer. I would have preferred Placido Domingo, but when you are rummaging through the CD bargain bin at Wal-Mart, greed takes precedence over selection.

It's about time to give a short update on Loren. I would have earlier, but things have fallen into a blissful state of uneventfullness. The first checkup back to Mayo should be in early March. I have no doubt we will be sent his orders, soon. They are very good about sending orders, not to mention those lovely notices itemizing the costs of procedures. (example: 1 stick of gum used for relaxation before surgery= $7.39 and thank you for choosing Mayo. Well, now, I could be wrong. The gum could've been more)

Of course I LOVE Mayo.

Loren has just been getting through each day in fine form, I think. Such a contrast from when he was up only 4 hours per day to now, about 12-14. He may not be moving all the time, but he seems a lot more normal, just in the way he can keep with a project. He can be working on someone's computer for hours at a time, going up and down the stairs to search for parts, etc. It is quite a change.

Before our walks on the road were curtailed by bad weather, we regularly walked 1.25 miles, and one day even went close to 2. Loren has a couple of parts ordered for the treadmill and will be fixing that soon. Treadmills are kinda boring, but a great alternative to 25 mile an hour winds :-) In the meantime, he has been known to "step-it" around the inside of the house, occasionally drawing an admiring, young imitator or two.

He faithfully takes his temp, blood pressure and weight each morning and evening, as he is required to do, marking it in his little book. It is just a matter of course, and he no longer gets concerned or obsessively checks them over and over. Not having the the uncertainty hanging over him has made a tremendous difference. Knowing you can get shocked at any time, regardless of activity can have a real dampening effect on one's outlook. It was always a toss up as to which was worse, getting shocked while still conscious and feeling everything, or waking up on the floor with people standing around, staring and concerned.

But, praise the Lord, that is over! From my standpoint, this is a new guy.
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We had a bit of freezing rain this morning, but decided to venture out, as the temps seemed to be warming. I did make the executive decision that I would drive instead of Jason, which he was happy to acquiesce to. There's nothing like the chance to show the kids how an adult can maneuver in potentially difficult conditions. Yes, those were just about my exact thoughts as I slid through the first intersection of the gravel roads. But, I must say, it was a very controlled slide. Just another opportunity to show the kids "grace under pressure." ("I know we were supposed to turn there, I was just making a road test.......")

We survived. And since there is another service tonight, I'd better rest up. Us old people need our naps.

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248

This number stands for:

a) How many mice I have caught in my lifetime
b) My IQ (who's laughing? I said, who's LAUGHING?!)
c) My current weight (anybody who answers yes to this is outta the will)
d) None of the above
e) All of the above
(wait, switch "d" and "e")
f) My cholestrol level

While you are taking time to think carefully about your answer I have a quick note to two friends:

{Becky C. of Peru, thank you for the emails :-) I have tried to respond by hitting "reply" but keep getting messages that they are not going through. Just wanted you to know I am not intentionally ignoring you.

Shirley B. of Alabama, I tried an email Sandra (from the HOUSE) gave me but it didn't go through to you. She also gave me a phone # which I will try. I want to know how your hubby is doing.}

OK, back to the little quiz. While shopping at Wal-Mart this morning/afternoon I chanced upon a free cholesterol screening. I jumped at the opportunity to show up Loren, but alas, it appears I am a tad high. Though, frankly, if you compare me to the hunky geezer on the Lipitor commercial, I am certain I could jump off the diving board without doing a belly flop, and that ought to count for something, oughten it?

Of course, there IS the possibility that the test was askew. Oh sure, they SAID they took into account I was not in a fasting state, but how does this work? I mean, do they take the little meter aside and whisper to it, or what? I would really like to know. Also, they pricked my ring finer, which is bigger and longer than my little finger. I just have a feeling that my little finger would have registered a lower number. There's some mathematical principle involved here, all I need is a little more time to make one up. And one more thing. Since my ring finger was used, who's to say my wedding ring was not causing undo stress to the blood flow, creating panic and thus cholesterol hoarding at the end of the finger? Everyone knows that your blood pressure can register higher under stress. Consequently, I think my little cholesterols were all worked up in there. I could almost hear them screaming, "We need a vacation! We need more chocolate!"

Or, maybe I will have to make a few adjustments to the ol' diet.

Reminds me of a comment I overheard up at Mayo: "Growing old isn't for wimps."

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Fried Brain for Supper

Suppertime with a bunch of children always brings a barrage of verbal exchanges. Sometimes these even follow coherent thought patterns. I think the basic flow of things tonight went something like this:

-queries as to whether cabbage salad was truly an integral part of the meal
-additional queries as to how much salad constituted a "helping"
-boastful comments concerning how much BBQ pork certain young whippersnappers would eat, before even starting on their first portion
-pleas to be allowed to have the cottage cheese without the added pineapple chunks--by same child with lustful eyes for BBQ--request denied

Enter: EVOLUTION (can't remember this transition, possibly in reference to foods tasting worse and worse....)
-(young child) "Don't even MENTION evolution."
-(adult) "There's nothing wrong with talking about the topic of evolution. You need to learn what it means so you can discuss it intelligently."
-(same child) "Well, I wish it could be outlawed!"
-(older child) "You can't just make people believe or not believe something")
-(same older child expands on the different theories mentioned in science book)
--Big bang, gap theory, theistic evolution....etc.
-adult mentions that dinosaurs couldn't have lived and died before humans, since death came with Adam's sin, and therefore the dinosaurs couldn't have died off before death came into the world.
-discussion centers on what life would have been like without sin in the world
-moves to "Why did God make Adam sin?" "He didn't make Adam sin. Satan tempted him. Man had free choice...." (and so on)

Supper breaks up, with young daughter following mother around as she clears, saying, "What I really would like to know, is, " *waits with baited breath* "where did all the names for food come from? I mean, like mushrooms? How did they decide to name them mushrooms?"

*mind goes blank...*

"Go ask the dictionary, honey. Mommy's tired."

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A Charge to Sweep

The church just down the road was calling, "Time to sweep the floor!"
I whistled as I grabbed my keys and hustled out the door.

I swept into the parking lot and leapt from out the car,
I went down to the basement, 'cause, the vacuum waited thar.

It waited for me, quiet like, within the closet dark,
Just hoping for a human to come by and give it spark.

For some the task of sweeping would be odious and drear,
For me it is a fertile time, the mind is running clear.

The brain is free to plan and scheme and percolate and brew,
And organize all SORTS of things that I would like to do.

For instance:

I.... could.... sweep into the pastor's study, clean it up and then,
Make a few "adjustments" to his sermon notes with pen.

In pondering the kids at home and all their schooling fears,
I could devise some harder subjects, sure to bring on tears.

I thought about our daughter and the job that she did get,
And wondered at the chance that I could ride the corporate jet.

But broader, farther, ever onward did my thoughts expand,
To visions of improvement o're the problems of the land.

This "Global Warming" stuff about which everyone is screamin',
I've got a SUPER plan to change it all and I'm not dreamin'.

See, all the people in the world make extra cubes and ices,
And throw them outside every noon and yell out, "No more crisis!"

And just as I was warming up to more amelioration,
(And consequently spreading too much heat around the nation)

An idea popped upon my brain that I might be a sinner,
If I didn't come back down to earth and think about some dinner.

With thoughts of making meat loaf I prepared to head for home,
"I came, I swept, I thought!" (and yes, I also wrote this poem)

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Potpourri

You Have A Type A- Personality

A- You are one of the most balanced people around Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you. When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back Whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love! You live life to the fullest - incorporating the best of both worlds

Do You Have a Type A Personality?

Don't have as much time to waste, er, I mean blog today, so I thought I'd toss out a few snippets of this-n-that.

Concerning the above quiz, I have this to say:

"You are one of the most balanced people around." (I've always suspected this. Nice to have confirmation)

"Motivated and focused, you are good at getting what you want." (This is somewhat dubious praise, since the same could be said for a kid throwing a tantrum on the floor....)

"You rule at success, but success doesn't rule you." (Reaffirms my most outstanding character trait, humility)

"When it's playtime, you really know how to kick back, whether it's hanging out with friends or doing something you love!" (Would someone please tell me what "playtime" for a mother, is?)

"You live life to the fullest, incorporating the best of both worlds." (Frankly, I think this is a thinly veiled comment about gaining weight, possibly in an alternative reality)
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Loren has had a dual consultation between the treadmill and it's manual, and has found only two things wrong with it. In a loose connection with Valentine's Day, I highly recommend that all unattached personnel marry someone who knows how to fix things. It has proved most advantageous, over the years. For one thing, I feel less guilt about breaking stuff.
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Daughter Sharon, has posted more famous quotes from her siblings. It helps to have a wide age span in children. Parents are sometimes too fatigued to fully appreciate these comments as they happen. Also, it is a helpful reminder to older children to realize that once upon a time, they too, spoke weirdly.
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An aspiring intellect from Letourneau posted these in honor of Valentine's Day. Perhaps they will not have the effect of Luther's 99 theses, but then again, they just might. Most amusing, none-the-less. First published one year ago, they were brought back by popular demand. Enjoy.

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Shady Doin's

Ever since Loren and I returned home from Rochester, there has been much complaining. Not that we have returned home, but as to the study conditions in the living room. We have beautiful swags and valences made by my sister-in-law Nora. (Nora, if you get a blog, I could link to you....)

ANYWAY, I had promised to get window shades for the morning and afternoon sun, which is especially potent during the winter season. Something about "Our brains are being fried in our skulls. We just can't think, anymore!" (really, I don't know where they pick up this maudlin and melodramatic talk)

I didn't get around to it before leaving in November. And after returning, I felt they were quite possibly exaggerating, until I entered the room and detected an aroma reminiscent of scorched clothing. (don't worry, Nora, I'm pretty sure it wasn't your swags, just the couches or the kids, or both) And, when I sat down to listen to someone's schoolwork, I found myself accosted by the heat and glare of intense and unrelenting sunlight. It was clear that something had to be done, and done fast. (or is that, "done fastly?" See, I told you the sun was hot)

And so, I did what any self-respecting mother would do, I took my young charge over to the cool kitchen table and told the remaining kids, "Quit-cher whinin', fer cryin' out loud!"

And, after that, I went to my computer and started browsing the website I had bookmarked from last summer. So many lovely fabrics and weaves to choose from! I had my eye on a little number with a scalloped edge, off white, of which there were 8 or 9 types, in various degrees of "offness." Carefully I entered my measurements for one of the four windows, just to get an idea of price. *gulp* It didn't take me long to realize we had two options: order the lovely pull shades and sell two of the kids, or give serious consideration to the cheapos at Wal-Mart.

*thinks long and hard*

Well, since Loren was planning to redo all windows in a couple years (in a perfect world) I felt I could not justify the expense. But, what is one overpriced company's loss, is another's (purveyor of eternally cheap goods) gain.

I found that at Wal-Mart, the prices were far less, and the selection even more so. For instance, for colors, there was boring white, gray-white, and the type of beige that-would-have-been-PERFECT-except-for-fact-that-they-didn't-have-them in the large size.
So, refusing to buy plain white, I bought the grayish cast, reasoning that, if I couldn't have what I really wanted, I would make a small but symbolic protest by buying an exceptionally bad match.

And so the shades were purchased, along with mounting brackets, 'cause hey, "Ma" is no dummy. She knows they have to hang up there on something. The fact that I bought the wrong type of mounting brackets is of little or no concern, since we have a teen with a driver's license in the house. And everyone knows that a TWADLITH is just a coiled spring, waiting to be aimed in the direction of a store. ANY store.

At last, with all accessories assembled, and a few more comments such as, "My forehead's so hot, I think I have a fever...." it was time to get things in motion. "So, Loren, the kids were wondering if you could put up the shades, soon, " I mentioned, hopefully, to my husband who was in the midst of simultaneously disenabling several computers under the guise of performing upgrades. "You mean I have to do that, TOO?!" "Well," I replied coyly, "you surely don't want ME to do it, do you?" (hoping he would remember the time I "borrowed" his power saw to make a set of misshapen blocks for a birthday present.") Really, you can't be soft with these heart transplant patients.

Loren worked while we watched the news and offered moral support. ("You know, it's hard to hear with all that hammering....") By the time supper was ready (or, it may have been afterwards, I really can't remember.....Let's just say it was later that same day) the shades were mounted and pulled to maximum length. "These have to stay in this position for 24 hours to keep the wrinkles out." "Sure. We can do that. Aren't you glad that's over? Thanks!" (encouraging smile from grateful wife) "Let's just hope they don't fall apart in a couple of days," was his glum response.
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The morning dawned on a new day, though we hardly noticed. The shades were down and the sun was behind numerous clouds, somewhat distorting the desired effect. Now appearing cavelike, we had to turn on all the lamps. All day. But, that's OK, for when ol' Sol pops out again, we will be ready!

And then, there is the advantage of being able to watch movies in the afternoon, unhindered by glare.

That's the real reason we became shady.

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That Time of Year

Well, it's that time of year. Time to peruse garden catalogs, forgetting about the miserable failures of last year's vegetables. Time to plan new flower borders. There is always the chance that, instead of the usual lifeless and anemic display, THIS will be the year it all comes together, with a showy cascade of blooms.

Oh yes, it's also time to order graduation announcements. See, we didn't do much for high school graduation, so, I thought we should really do something to commemorate Ardith receiving her college degree. Now, I know some parents have the student do all the planning and ordering, but I am happy to take on this small task. No, actually, it is a privilege, perhaps even an evil pleasure.

I've found a nice website (it's slow) that will send us lovely decorated sheets and envelopes, which we just run though our printer, making custom (and much cheaper) graduation announcements. Then we can get some of the kids to fold them so as to make this a real family affair. Nolan needs to practice his kindergarten skills, anyway. I haven't quite decided on the exact wording yet, but here are a few samples:

1) Down and Homey
Pa an Ma Haw-it iz jus 'bout to bust-- ar-- buttons, we iz SO proud oven dis dawt-er afarn.
("Which-a-one issen dis, Pa? I gets em so confused..." "How's I know? I done loss track fer kids ago, Ma. Jus pick uh name outta dee hat. It don't likely madder, much. Dem techies be all alocks...Bye dee way, what iz a 'farn?'") Wall, enyways, arn lil' gurl, Ardith, has done reeeel good. She be fixin' ta grad-jee-ate froma this hear Yune-vers-tee calt (lessee, whut waz dat...) "Let-her-go." Yess, ah thinks dat be it. "Dee Yune-vers-tee uh Let-her-go."
She dun got herself a reel nice job, an she's a gorner bah ussen uh manshun somewheres neerbye so's we's kin all liv wither. Y'all come visit us. Ah knowd she'd lock tha-yut. (p.s. Dontch'all call her, fust, causin' she luvs s'prizes)

2) Somewhat Conventional
It is with great pleasure, that Loren and Rebecca Hoyt, announce the upcoming graduation of Ardith Hoyt from LeTourneau University. Etymologically speaking, the word "Letourneau," comes from the French word for "The turning water." We are fairly certain this speaks of some relationship to the invention of the first flush toilet, but we are not absolutely positive. What we are sure about, is that there is absolutely no relationship to this mechanism and the quality of our daughter's degree. We just thought it amusing, and since it came up in prayer group, we are somewhat confident it does not connote gossip. Oh yes, Congratulations to our daughter.

3) Rap
"Yo. Ar-do.
We want the world to know.
It looks like you will graduate in just a month or so."

"You. Are cool.
You are nobody's fool.
Soon you'll earn some money that would make yo daddy drool."

"Clap. Yo hands.
Bring out all the bands.
Ar-do is a techie, now and gives out the commands."

"Yo. Ar-do. Yo. Ard-do. Yo. Ar-do......"
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Well, that's all I've come up with so far. Not to seem manipulative, or anything, but increasingly bizarre versions could well come about, depending on how long it takes someone to pick out her design preference.

Who knew being a mom could be such fun?

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"Ma" Goes Green

The morning dawned, crisp and cold. After dressing in the usual exercise gear, I glanced at the thermometer. It read right around 20 degrees Fahrenheit. (that's about 12 degrees below freezing, for those dependent upon 10 degree increments :-)

I looked out the window, carefully making motion assessments of the evergreen branches. Movement was definite, but appeared tolerable. I donned turtle neck, sweatshirt, fleece gloves, and that funny-band-thingy that covers your ears. The conduit of Big Band Ditties (the transistor radio) was AWOL. It looked like I would be forced to hum.

Proceeding out the doorway, I made my way to the end of the drive. Facing first south, and then north, I tested the wind direction. When you're going on a four mile walk, you want to return with the wind at your back. Starting coordinates: north.

Ahhhh. First long walk of the new year. The question was, after sitting around in The Big House for almost 3 months, could I do it?

I started out at a pace more brisk then usual. It helps when the temperature is below freezing.

Muscles moved in smooth coordination, every sinew responding with well-oiled agility. And that was just my breathing exercises. Who knew the nose had so many sinews?

As I approached the first 90 degree turn, I made careful notation of my watch. This was going to be a day of testing. A day of picking the optimal path, of dodging ice and gravel. Yes, this would be a day to try the soles of overpriced, yet rubberized footwear.

I plodded forward and the first mile marker went by: 12 or 13 minutes. *congratulates self* Things were looking pretty good, for the aging and sedentary "Ma."

Another mile knocked off, with similar time realized. If the walk continued in this vein, a new record might be set. I began the very last mile.

And that is when I saw it. An empty beer bottle carton, just lying there in the ditch of semi-pristine snow. Nobody was watching. I could walk right past it and not a soul would notice. But something made me, nay, compelled me to walk over and pick it up.

Trying to regain my stride, I folded while I walked, crunching the cardboard under my left arm. This was ONE piece of trash that wouldn't be marring the landscape. Oh, no.

And then I saw another "it." Two, to be exact. Two beer bottles lying in the snow. I walked by, thinking, "Surely I cannot be expected to set a new walking record, AND pick up two discarded bottles!" But, alas, I turned around and went back. Maybe some late night rowdy had not the decency to dispose of his empties properly, but I need not stoop to his level.

I bent over and picked them both up, despite the fact that it entailed getting into the ditch, itself. I noticed the metal crimped lids had been neatly pressed back onto the bottles' necks. Well, now. That act denoted some care and sensibility on the part of the careless wretch. Perhaps there WAS some hope for the world, after all.

For, no doubt, this simple act of placing the lid back on the bottle could have saved untold misery for some hapless mouse. It doesn't take much imagination to visualize a little hairy member of the Muridaen family, scampering along with one of his buddies, when they happen upon an (almost) empty beer bottle.

"Hey George, check out this (almost) empty brown bottle!" squeaks one. "Harvey. Knock it off! Remember your promise to Ethel...." "Aw, come on, one little sip won't hurt...."

And so it goes. Harvey sticks it nosey little head inside the neck, gets stuck, and then spends the next 15 minutes waving the bottle wildy back and forth. Struggling. Waving. Waving. Struggling. Finally he clears himself of the dreaded house of temptation. But it is too late. The damage has been done.

As he limps up to his doorstep, Ethel meets him, takes a sniff, and exclaims, "Oh Harvey! You promised!" *sound of mouse wailing*

Yes, a small tragedy could well have been narrowly averted. And, just so's those two bottles wouldn't detract from the brown, faded landscape, I picked them up and carried them all-- the-- rest-- of-- the-- way-- home.

Luckily, they were "Bud Light."

And that, is the end of my tale. Except for one little detail. Throughout the entire 4-mile walk, I met with no traffic. Until I entered our driveway. Then, for some inexplicable reason, traffic ensued, and a car drove past. There I was, with a folded beer carton under one arm, and two "empties" in the other.

I felt a little sick......

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Upgrades and Interludes

(The following was posted on "Blogger News")
Good news everyone! We've updated the way comments work. Among the many improvements are pop-up windows for comments and the ability for commenters to fill in their name and web site info—no Blogger account needed.
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I hope this doesn't put any undue stress on anyone. If you are like me (I refer to all those over 40) any change in the ol' routine is exasperating. You finally get the hang of something, and then they "upgrade" it, for your own good, mind you. All I can say is, "It's not my fault!"
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I had a little modest upgrade of my own in the kitchen this morning. I disposed of a mouse that had been caught on the back of the counter. That makes two since our return from Rochester. The master trapper strikes again! I consider removing small and potentially disease-ridden rodents from the premises a definite improvement.
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Loren and Jason were working on Carolyn's computer for much of yesterday. For those who are interested, she now has Windows 2000 installed. (after MUCHOS problemos, Jason adds) That ought to be good enough to perform those complicated tasks of math drill and spelling practice. Now she won't have to beg others to use their computers. Really, when you think of the fact that I couldn't share a computer when I was young, because THEY DIDN'T EVEN EXIST, *puts head in hands* it is just amazing that I turned out as normal as I have.
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Ethan presented with a croupy cough this morning. Naturally, the first thing that came to the minds of his siblings was not concern for his health, but, "Will he get off any school?" and, "Of course, if he DOES get off school, you're not going to let him have any computer game time in the afternoon, are you?!?!"

*sigh* (this rhetorical stage can be VERY annoying)

Then, of course, an evaluation must be made. Temperature taken: negligible. "OK, Ethan, here's the deal. I can't very well let you off school and then give you computer privileges in the p.m. So, how about you lay down and rest on the couch, and then we try to do the rest of your school. Then you can have game time, later."

He agreed to this, for, as we all know, an afternoon without game time is a fate worse than death.
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Wandering into the computer room, later, and feigning interest in the mechanical aspects, I asked, "So, now that you finished Carolyn's computer, I hear you are working on Melinda's?"
Jason replied, "Daddy is doing Melinda's and I'm working on Trevor's."

Trevor's computer. Hmmmm. Well, yes. Why not? We can't have him turning 3 without a computer, now, can we?
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(giving instructions before I left to clean at the church) "OK. The brownies are in the oven and the timer is set." "When does Trevor get up from his nap?" asked Kendra. I consulted my watch, "He gets up....let's see....." (Stairway door opens, producing groggy child) "uh, now, actually. He gets up right now." (20 minutes early, but close enough)

Well, one can't just rush off to clean toilets when a sleepy "bunny" wants to be held. So, we parked on the floor to watch the dismantling and shuffling of computer parts. "I want my computer back!" wailed Nolan. "Just a minute, they're making it faster!" This mollified him for a while, after it was repeated several times.

There is garbled conversation back and forth....."If we take *blah, blah* out of So-and-so's computer, and put it in ------, then we have some other *blah, blah, blah's* and we could put them in --------(muffled words) ....Mommy's computer....." "What!!? You are not touching my computer!" *raised eyebrows* It got very quiet.
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Returned from cleaning just in time to fix supper. Jason came out, desperately grabbing a drink of water, "Man, you really get thirsty when you're slaving at computers all day." "So," I inquired, "What's the status?" "Well, I am just about ready to turn on Trevor's computer for the first time and watch it blow up."

*confused sigh* So nice to be home, where life is normal.

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Wisdom of the Ages

-Up at the "Big House," in the common dining room, after enduring a loud and uninformed discussion (from another table) on education and careers, my ever cynical husband proclaimed, "Those that speak the loudest, say the least." (This was spoken softly, by the way)

-This morning, Nolan and Trevor were playing with Lego's. First Nolan, then Trevor came over to enlist my fingernails in prying off pernicious flat pieces. "You guys," I mumbled. "I'll bet you just love me 'cause I can get these blocks apart." Trevor walked back to the table, where his little sing-songy voice piped up, "Now, now, Mommy..." in perfect tones of condescension. The kid was barely talking when I left, and so he's admonishing me? (of course, noticing my slack-jawed expression, he is certain to try that one again)

What was almost as amusing was 5-year-old Nolan's contribution, "Trevor, I don't think you're supposed to talk to Mommy that way..."

Well, I do not take back anything I said, for, as we all know, it is never too early to start laying a guilt trip on a child.

-"I have WAY to much school. It's not fair!" Oh, wait. This doesn't fall into the category of wisdom. Just annoying and repeated complaints! This person feels that if they reiterate their grievance often enough, I will give in, like that poor harassed judge in Luke 18. Little does this person know, but, over the years, I have become downright tenacious when it comes to completing schoolwork. ("Wah, hah, hah, hah, hah!") (that was the evil laugh of a mother who delights in doing what is best for her children)

-(me) "Honey, if God had intended for you to go play outside in 18 degrees in your shorts, he wouldn't have created snowpants!" OK. I might have taken a few editorial liberties, here, but I think you get the jist of what occurred. Other then some red legs, I think the kid survived. I can only hope the traffic was particularly sparse while he was out-of-doors.

-(me, again) "Trust me! Your father was not serious when he mentioned the feasibility of using the basement for an indoor pool. After all, if God had intended for us to have an indoor pool..........."

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Time Warp

I think I'm still suffering the effects of "life lag." This is the feeling one gets after being transported from a little Rochesterian dormitory-type room, back to a, well, a dormitory. (It is similar to this crazy keyboard, which does not keep up with my typing and deleting. I am either waiting for what I do to show up, or fixing up over-deletions)

Soon, I will sweep away the cobwebs by doing something totally mundane, like sorting through a pile of papers. I already cleaned one toilet today, but apparently that "normalizing" activity was not enough to bring about total sanity.

I was able to get the four kids not in high school registered for testing (ITBS) in April. Have to be there by 8:15, which means we have to leave by 7:15, meaning we must get up at 6:15. This should promote a really superb and alert state of mind in which the kids can test. I'm toying with the idea of arriving the night before, and sleeping in the parking lot. Depends on the weather. But, since they only have to make the 30th percentile, maybe I shouldn't worry. Besides, it's free.

This morning, I lugged my "Total Gym" down from the 2nd floor. That, in itself, was just about enough exercise for one day. I was temporarily thrown into a mild tizzy when I couldn't locate two linchpins. These keep the apparatus from collapsing during use, are crucial for setting different levels of intensity, and just make a really cool sound when they click into place. In truth, the act of switching to different settings is worth half the morning's exercise. Luckily, I discovered the missing items, so heads did not roll.

One wonders if a fancy contraption will help to achieve overall fitness. But I persevere, keeping the long range goal in mind: the hope that someday, somehow, I can wind up looking like Chuck Norris.

Perhaps Loren is right. Perhaps I am warped :-)

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Things That Make Me Nervous....

-one of the younger kids coming up to me, saying, "I don't have to go to the bathroom. Really, I don't." *blinks*

-my husband and son changing my hardrive and casually mentioning, "Don't worry, we can always get your email addresses and files off, later."

-realizing that, not only have I lost most of my addresses, but, what is far worse, I no longer have the cheesecake recipes solicited from unmet Southerners, whom I hesitate to bother. Again.

-after negatively commenting on a link in a daughter's blog, the author of said link comments on the daughter's blog. And, what is worse, I STILL do not understand what they are trying to say.
*Resigns self to being stupid*

-through some inexplicable mouse click, the beginning of post was sent to oblivion. Not even a syllable went to "draft." *wonders if I can blame this on husband or son......*

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Da Man Be Workin'!

At this very moment, while I peacefully type, listen to opera and munch on trail mix, the man with the new heart is outside working on the van. Loren, attired in a FedEx jumpsuit, is busy doing something with the old 15 passenger vehicle, to make it mobile for it's trash run. Three eager youngsters are watching every move, no doubt astounded by their father's new found stamina.

Two days ago, Loren was underNEATH the van, changing the oil. You would have to have lived around here for the last two years to fully appreciate the difference in him. He was up until 11:00 last night messing about with his computer. And it's not unusual to see him clumping up and down the stairs without regard. Before, he used to come downstairs between 1 or 2pm, and head back up again about 6:00pm, not to return till the next day. I'm starting to feel like a real slacker around the guy.
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I am happy to say that my worst fears of being away from the children have not materialized. Besides everyone remaining unmaimed, Trevor still loves me! He is sitting on my lap, this very moment, taking note of ways to infiltrate my computer setup, no doubt.

At mealtimes he is seated at the opposite end of the table, by his best buddy and bro', 17 year old Jason. However, he has taken to carting his drink and plate down to his maman, where he crawls up on my lap to finish his repast. What a little bunny! *sigh*
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We have had a turn for the cold, weather wise. Winds from the north make that side of the house rather cool. I wouldn't want to be too graphic, the when the toilet seat is shockingly chilled, things have come to a pretty pass, indeed. But, other than this necessary reduction in my leisure reading, everything is going rather well.

SO glad to be home :-)

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Loren Watches the Superbowl??

Yes, my husband, "the king of sports disdain," had the Superbowl on. It was blaring from the ceiling mounted TV as well as a small window on his computer, while he browsed various websites.

Personally, I think it's the multimedia angle: "I can, therefore I utilize as much simultaneous technology as possible."

Or, it could just be the meds.
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Just an innocent reminder to Ardith: "If you don't give an official report on your interviews soon, you leave me no choice but to make up my own version. "

p.s. I have a vivid imagination.

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Two Burning Questions.....

1) We took Ardith out to eat at Pizza Hut, last night, and when I asked the waiter if they had any chocolate items on the menu, he answered, "Uh, no."

Am I the only one who sees a problem, here?


2) Went shopping at WalMart, and noticed a new type of sock: "Relaxed Fit."

Why does an elasticized sock need to relax? How does an elasticized sock relax? Are they just relaxed fit, or are they relaxed AND fit? Do they "work out" and get little sock massages in the factory, or what?
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I was gone for 3 months, and my whole world has turned upside down.....

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Meeting of the Minds

Ardith flown to Cedar Rapids.

Provided with lovely rental car.

Put up in nifty hotel suite.

Met with many at Rockwell Collins.

Taken out to eat by small army of relatives, who drove almost two hours, one way.

It appears all survived.

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Oh Yes.....

...there's one more thing :-)

Eldest daughter, Ardith, has an interesting couple of days ahead.

I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you prayed for her interview process.

(finally, all those sci-fi flicks start to pay off.....)

*is proud*

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First Day Back Among the Living

The alarm went off at 7:01 this morning, and I managed to drag myself out of bed. When you're back among the young and impressionable progeny, there's a certain obligation to appear responsible. It would not be good form to lie abed while the kids are up and mentally sweating great buckets over their Saxon Math. So, I arose.

I was casting about for my tennis shoes, when I was waylaid by an almost 3-year-old, standing silent on the stairway. Clad in his footless sleepers, he just stood there, with his little tyke arms outstretched. Who could resist? Not I.

He was glad to be carried downstairs in his half-somnolent condition. Temporarily having the living room to ourselves, we parked on a cozy couch. A soft-toned discussion commenced. I talked, and he nodded. We batted about little and big subjects, mostly toes, since his cute little feet were sticking out of his jammies. The branches waving in the wind outside the window also caught our attention. And, equally important, we just sat there, quiet and content.

Ah, bliss.
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Loren and I arrived home later than expected, thanks to the ever-annoying care and attention of our medical insurance company. ("sure, we'll pay for most of the transplant, but we still have ways of making you pay")

Increasing dizzy spells had been bothering Loren, and we made an unscheduled stop up to the transplant floor yesterday. After consulting with a coordinator, it was decided that Loren should immediately stop the anti-viral medicine, Amantadine, (dizziness is one of the first side effects) and switch to Tamiflu. (antiviral therapy was suggested recently for all patients transplanted within the last 4 months, to further help prevent flu)

ANYway, the standard prescription is for 10 days, but Loren was to have a month's worth. So, the insurance company, in it's infinite wisdom ("first, be a pain") has to pre-authorize the extra amount. But, they just never got around to OK'ing matters, so, the pharmacy, in hopes of getting rid of this meddlesome woman, (me :-) agreed to give us 10 pills and FedEx the rest, after approval, without extra co-pay, we hope. (it's very expensive)

Well, I just wanted to get home, so I managed to exert some control over my rumored (and com-PLETELY exaggerated) lapses into manic fury.

Loading the little Toyota was tricky. We had acquired a a few extra pillows, and foam pads, and also books :-) Of course, the computer took up a GREAT deal of space, but even I do not begrudge it room any more. I came close to dropping the honkingily heavy 19 inch monitor while I was loading it onto the cart. This brought a slight gasp of dismay from my husband, but I think the main thing to remember, here, is that I didn't actually drop it.

Loren, the "master packer" went to work on the car. By stuffing the trunk, and cramming the back seat up to the roof, we did manage to fit everything in, all the time providing a source of amusement for various "guests" of The House. The only thing I had to leave behind was my fake poinsettia, which is now a donated Christmas decoration at Gift of Life. Oh yes, Loren did have to hold his 14 inch square box of meds on his lap all the way home. (He volunteered me to drive since he'd had those dizzy spells)
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So now, it is back to the old, happy routine. ("Can you run these in to the post office? They have GOT to go out today....") OK, so after that, I sat down and listened to Ethan read, (he's improving) and helped Carolyn with some history questions, ("A lot of people want to know why we got involved in the Vietnam War.....") and listened to Nolan read....*blink* ("Melinda! You've done a great job with Nolan!") (OK, it was mostly short "a" vowel words and small sentences, but the kid was reading) and quizzed Ethan on his Catechism questions, (knows 21 of 60--need to pick up the pace) and listened to another long, verbal persuasive complaint from "someone," who claims their academic load is way too heavy.

It was all lovely. Every single bit :-)

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Home At Last

We are home, safe and sound.

Very, very happy :-)

More, later.

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Next to Last Day...

Up early again, for the last fasting blood work, for a month, anyway. Everything looks pretty good, though we will have to keep an eye on the potassium intake since Loren's is upper normal, at 5.0. If it gets up to 5.5 they have a drug that can be administered to bring it down quickly.

We saw the extremely knowledgeable nurse practitioner this morning. She mentioned a report from the people in x-ray that showed a fractured wire. When they cut open the sternum, they wire it back together, with a sort of "twisty-tie" effect. We have yet to hear back about this. It may or may not need attention.

One thing she did mention was that she had been quite alarmed with Loren's activity level pre-transplant. She thinks he looks pretty good, now! He could still stand to gain a little more weight, but as muscle. Steroids (prednisone) ravage the large muscles, and Loren will have to keep after that exercise for a variety of reasons.

One more thing to keep a lookout for is CMV. Loren has been exposed to it, but the donor heart had not. But, the risk would be greater if the situation were reversed, with Loren not exposed and the donor exposed.

In the afternoon, we saw the Exercise doc, who reported Loren's Stress Test of yesterday. He echoed the NP in the importance of time spent warming up and cooling down. Since the heart is denervated, Loren needs to warm up, to start those hormones going, to get the adrenaline going, to tell his heart to get going. You and I have a heart that reacts to starting and stopping activity. Loren's needs extra time to find out what's happenin'.

As to the Stress Test, Loren's heart responded as needed, just at a lower level than expected. Meaning, the doctor remarked that Loren's resting heart rate was the lowest he had seen among transplant patients. For the short term, it makes it a little hard for Loren to feel like he is making progress. In the long term, it could be very good for him, giving him a greater range of heart rate to work with. Loren's heart performed at 57% of what was predicted for a healthy man his age. This compares to his Stress Test of last February when it performed at 38%. In a few more years, the numbers could get even better.

Now, with a transplanted heart, he will never have a normal ability to extract oxygen. He will never have a normal response to exercise. But, all things considered, Loren is doing very well.

There were some other things mentioned, such as sympathetic tones, parasympathetic tones, and vegal tones. But I didn't quite grasp all that technical talk. And, anyway, I've never been a great fan of vegetarians who engage in musical ESP.

Some things are just wrong.

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