I’ve often wondered what men think about during sex or do they even think at all? Somehow I think the latter is probably closer to the truth or at least it is for my husband. That man could be dying and still want to get a little while absolutely nothing flows through his brain. Don’t get me wrong though, I have no problem with his lack of thought during sex. As long as he does his part, I’m happy.
Now, me…I am a woman and I can guarantee you that there are a million different things going through my mind even during a little lovemaking. In fact, sex is a great time for me to think about home improvements. No, really. Many decorating changes to our house have come about because of good sex. What am I supposed to be thinking? Ooh…aah…ooh?
What about you?
Gut-wrenching fear struck me as I looked at the name that popped up on my phone, Deanna Deanna. The name was supposed to only say Deanna, but apparently I had a brain fart the day I entered my Aunt Deanna’s name into my contact list. Just seeing her name once was a enough to make me nauseous, but twice put me over the edge. Deanna never calls me unless there is a problem, specifically with my Mother. As I live 90 miles away, my Mother’s sister is her first line of defense is something were to happen. Considering the fact that Mom is 80 years-old things are bound to happen that are out of our control.
For years my Mom and her younger sister have been daily lunch partners with the latter picking her up. They hit almost every restaurant in town during the week and when they are done with that they go to the surrounding cities for lunch. On this particular day they were sitting at the local bowling alley getting ready to order lunch. Before they even picked up the menu Mom turned a pasty white, started sweating bullets, and had difficulty moving her left arm without extreme pain. Aunt Deanna rushed her to the emergency room then gave me the call that made me start sweating bullets.
Everything turned out OK with Mom for now, but it still frightened me to the core. I stayed with Mom for a few days, then did something that put me in the doghouse. Before leaving for home I drove her to the Home Health division of the hospital and told her this was it, she’s getting a Life Line. Yes, Life Line. You know those annoying commercials “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up”? Talk about an unhappy camper. Mom was not pleased at all with the fact I was forcing her to do something against her will. She is very independent and stubborn but she wasn’t getting her way this time. She informed me that she wasn’t one of those old ladies and she always has her cell phone with her (no, she doesn’t).
I didn’t back down and got my way this time but it made me feel awful. My mom is my closest friend in the world and felt as if I had betrayed her confidence. That feeling didn’t last too long though. By the time I drove home I felt so much more secure knowing Mom would be safer in her home now. In fact, it’s been several weeks now and she no longer even mentions the help button that hangs around her neck. Maybe that’s because she is now upset with me for mentioning the dreaded word “walker” or the fact I said no more driving her car. I guess we just have to take baby steps. Momma raised me which couldn’t have been easy. Now the tides have turned and I am taking care of her (when she lets me).
Chronic pain can make your life completely miserable, sometimes even unbearable. I deal with moderate to severe pain on a daily basis and there have been times that I didn’t think I could live another day. I suffer from Fibromyalgia, Restless Leg Syndrome, and severe early onset osteoarthritis. Just imagine having the worst flu ever with aches and pains throughout your whole body. Well, that’s my average day. A couple of years ago I could barely function at times, and now I take medication to help with the symptoms, but the pain is still there. I have just learned to manage and deal with it in ways that allow me to get the most out of life without killing someone.
1. Lose the self-pity. Immersing yourself in self-pity doesn’t make the pain any better. Trust me, I know this from experience. I found out the hard way that feeling sorry for myself did nothing but make me feel depressed and grumpy. Grumpy people rarely get sympathy from anyone. Most people, family included, don’t or don’t want to understand pain chronic pain from invisible illnesses and self-pity along with a cantankerous attitude isn’t going to win you any points.
2. Don’t find a good doctor, find a GREAT doctor. I suffered for years before finally getting a complete diagnosis. Fibromyalgia and other diseases can often mimic heart problems which led me to be hospitalized in the cardiac unit and undergo an unnecessary heart catheterization to the tune of almost $25,000. Thank God for for health insurance. On a positive note, I found out my heart is in great condition. After my sister was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and my Mother with Polymyalgia rheumatica (a very similar illness), I put two and two together and found an awesome rheumatologist who was able to diagnose me. He prescribed medication and treatments that have greatly improved my quality of life.
3. Get up and move! Sitting on your rear might feel good at the time, but getting up and moving around helps to ease my pain immensely. In fact, my pain is sometimes worse from lack of movement. When I first started to get sick all I wanted to do was lie in bed all day and almost said the Hell with life. It just about killed me at first but making sure to stay active helps the aches and pains to be less intense. Now I spend my days watching my 18 month old granddaughter Harper. At first I didn’t think I would be able to handle it but I am so glad I made that choice. She brings me the greatest joy imaginable and helps me to forget the pain.
4. Find a hobby. Is there something that you enjoyed doing before you became ill? Get back into life and your old hobby or find a new one. Granted, some adjustments might have to be made depending on the activity. Obviously someone who suffers from sever chronic pain probably isn’t going mountain or rock climbing so do something else. Writing has become a favorite pastime for me and also a great outlet. Sometimes I have trouble typing because of the swelling in the joints of my fingers, so I mentally outline what I plan to write in the future. Either way it is a pastime that I look forward to.
5. Enjoy life. You have only have one life to live so enjoy it to the fullest of your ability. Even on my worst days I find something to enjoy even if it’s just a silly show on television. Anything that I enjoy doing that will take my mind off the pain works for me. I hope it will work for you too!
Promises, promises, promises…..I make them to myself frequently and then fail to follow them. One of those promises has been to keep up on my blogs. Yeah, I haven’t been very good at that one, have I? It’s not that I have giving up writing; I do that every day while working on my first book. I am also big on posting my strangely perverted, happy thoughts on Facebook, so if you are “friends” with me you aren’t missing out on much. If you want to be my little friend, you can find me at my Happy Blonde Facebook page.
Life in Happy Blonde land has included a lot of snow lately; in fact we received about 13 inches with the last storm. That equals about 1.6 inches of rainfall according to the Snowfall to Rainfall Calculator or basically not crap considering the drought we’ve been going through. See this picture? This is our neighbor’s pond last spring. It is now completely empty. Who knows, maybe with 13 inches of snow it might pass as a cup of fish soup now.
Anyhow, I am going to try and keep up my goal to blog more instead of just writing. It’s good outlet that I should utilize more, maybe I’ll be less crazy.
My husband gets up for work at four in the morning and never seems to have time to make his breakfast, so I always have it made the night before. Otherwise I have to get up at four and that isn’t going to happen. He is one of the lucky ones and doesn’t have any cholesterol problems, so he usually has eggs. There are only so many ways to make eggs though and he easily gets bored with them. I decided to throw some ingredients together and make him a casserole for tomorrow’s breakfast. Since he is 1/2 Mexican, I can never go wrong with beans and salsa. I used my George Foreman Roaster but this can easily be cooked in a baking pan in the oven at 350 degrees. Hope you enjoy!
Mexican Breakfast Casserole
- 3 pieces of bread broke into pieces
- 4 eggs
- 3/4 cup soy milk or regular milk
- 1/2 cup refried beans
- 1/2 cup salsa
- 1/2 cup cheese or 3 to four cheese slices
Grease the baking pan of the George Foreman Roaster or a small baking pan. Place break pieces in pan or roaster. Mix eggs and milk, then pour over bread. Cover with refried beans then top with cheese. Cover with salsa and set time on roaster for 45 minutes. If baking in a conventional oven and pan, bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until done. Serve hot.
A part of my childhood has died with the death of actor George Lindsey. Lindsey is most famously known as Goober Pyle from The Andy Griffith Show and also as cousin to Gomer Pyle. For those of you not familiar with The Andy Griffith Show, it was from a time when there was still innocence in television, not the violence and sex seen today. The show was filmed in black and white during the 1960’s and portrayed the fictional town of Mayberry, North Carolina. It was also the starting point for director and producer Ron Howard, who played Andy’s young son Opie.
Of all the characters on the show, Goober Pyle was my favorite. Goober was the comic relief and always made me laugh. By the time The Andy Griffith Show went off the air I was only three years-old, but I grew up watching reruns. Even though we lived in a small town we were fortunate enough to have cable and I believe we got about 20 channels. This seems hard to believe considering the selection of channels available today. We found plenty of shows to watch though and didn’t miss the zillion other channels that would someday come. I was even one of the lucky ones and had my own black and white television in my bedroom.
I had a wonderful childhood and the best parents that anyone could ask for, but that doesn’t mean that I still didn’t daydream about living the perfect life in Mayberry where everyone was always happy and everyone got along. For those of you wanting to daydream about a slower, happier, and much safer time, The Andy Griffith show is available in instant streaming from Netflix and most local channels will carry it at one time or another. Sometimes if fun to just get lost in the simplicity of it all. Hey Goober, may you rest in peace with your Goober beanie and pencil pocket protector.
Reference: Toffler, E. (Photographer). (2012). George Lindsey, aka Goober Pyle, dies. [Web Photo]. Retrieved from http://www.abc3340.com/story/18157968/george-lindsey-aka-goober-pyle-dies
When it comes to cooking, I am all about making it easy and taste good. I suppose the main reasons are that I love to eat but don’t really like to cook unless it is for a dinner party or some other occasion. Well, maybe it isn’t so much the cooking part but the having to clean up afterwards. The less ingredients and mess, the better. So, here you go….
Ham & Cabbage
- 1 medium cabbage
- 1 tbsp of minced garlic
- 2 tbsp dried onions or fresh onion if preferred
- 2 tbsp olive oil
- 1 lb ham cubed
- 1/4 tsp pepper
Chop cabbage into bite-sized pieces and add to hot frying pan with olive oil. Add garlic and onions then cook on medium for about 5 minutes stirring occasionally. Continue to stir and add ham and continue to cook on medium for another 10 to 15 minutes. The cabbage should be tender by this time. Serve hot.
Hope you enjoy!
Saying goodbye to my Dad while he was lying on a cold, hard slab was one of the most difficult things that I have ever done. He had only been gone for a couple of hours, but the coldness had already crept into his whole being. I held his hand anyhow while the tears streamed down my face. Thank God my husband was there to keep me standing; otherwise I would have hit the floor from the overpowering grief. While my Dad was not the first relative of mine to die he was certainly the closest. He was not only my Father, but one of my closest friends.
Dad had his first massive heart attack at 59, causing his and my Mom’s life to change forever. After having open heart surgery, he was forced to retire early because of his health. He was a good, strong man though, and didn’t let this destroy him. Dad had been a nurse and an ultrasound/x-ray technician during his career, so he knew all about caring and giving to others and this is exactly what he did for the next 18 years. He became involved in numerous volunteer projects and was even named senior volunteer of the year at one time. No matter how much pain he was in, he always had a smile on his face for others. Over the years Dad had numerous health concerns and surgeries causing him to physically die on the table, but always come back. Maybe this was one of the reasons his death was so hard on me, he had always cheated death before.
In the weeks before Dad passed he had been to the emergency room numerous times for severe back pain. Since they didn’t feel it was his heart, he was medicated and sent home with Mom. I lived a little over an hour way, so in between visits, I spent a lot of time on the phone with my parents. In fact, I called them two or three times every day. When Dad’s back got worse, I started to call him at 7:30 in the morning on my way to work. Since I already talked to him several times a day, I decided to cut out the 7:30 call so he wouldn’t get dependent on it and be upset if I forgot. It was one of the worst mistakes I ever made.
The night Dad died my Mom called to say they had been to the emergency room and had been sent home once again with pain medicine for his back. I offered to come home and be with them both to see what I could do, but my Mom reassured me it was OK. It wasn’t. At four am I got the call that Dad was gone. I just held the phone and couldn’t even function. My husband pretty much dressed me and we made the longest, most difficult journey that I will ever remember.
The moral of this story is to never take anyone for granted and give them that extra moment whenever you can. If I had kept on calling Dad at 7:30 every morning, I would have been able to speak to him fourteen more times before he died. It took me a long time to forgive myself for that but I finally did and I know that Dad is always watching over me.