As Advertised - Part Deux

So there's a bee in the truck. Yippee! Just what I needed as I am terrified of all insects that both fly and sting. Dare I say a welcome distraction from the increasingly apparent fact I prolly shouldn't be driving in my current condition. "Mom of the Year" I tell ya. Commence with the nominations already. I know I got it in the bag.

Alas we arrive. Thankfully early as I had hoped to catch a Dad of one of Asa's teammates to beg for his help. I should explain he's not just any Dad. Mr. M we shall call him. A great guy I have known since grade school. We graduated together. Him and his older brother used to mow our yard for my Dad. His mom and my dad worked together. Long time family friend. Completely trusted. THANK YOU MR. M!!!

The plan had been to wait on Mr. M to see if we could, with his help, do all we'd hoped for BEFORE getting out of the truck and going willy nilly in all directions. Wrongo! That's what I get for making plans. Enter the as of yet unseen presence of a killer bee. Once in park the truck doors fly open and the boys disperse. Lovely. Thankfully Asa turns to me after some distance to await further instruction. Good boy!

I advise to come and get me upon Mr. M's arrival and not to let Abel stray too far out of ear's shot. As the sun began sinking my nerves got the best of me. Should I even be driving at all? I remained in the truck with the rogue bee and prayed for guidance. Looky there. I had brought my cell phone. Smart girl. Yeh. I'd have patted myself on the back at this point had I had the energy to do so.

What do I do? I call my sister. Some of you may remember her from previous entries as Red Sonja. As many times as we'd fought growing up . . . I don't know what I'd do without her today. Anyways I call her and she's just getting herself or the kiddos or both out of the tub. What had I wanted from her? Nothing really. Words of encouragement possibly. Or maybe for her to tell me I couldn't accomplish what I'd set out to do. We all know how that gets me fired up.

Alas I accomplish nothing but establishing her whereabouts and my apparent lack of confidence regarding my ability or absence thereof. Quite the perdicament. She offers to help however she can. And I decline after having turned the key in the truck to check the time. Mr. M would be here. He would help me. Besides, many of the football parents just drop their kiddos at the practices anyways. He'd be fine.

Not two minutes later mom calls. I assure her I'd be okay. We'd all be okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. But unsure of that mantra myself I call Aunt Ann who I'd assumed would be on her way to church right about that time. Swing and a strike. She had been nearly all the way in Henderson, Kentucky readying to play bingo. Mr. M arrives just as I'm about to concede this battle. I explain my situation and he assures me he has no problem taking Asa back to his house after practice.

Yay! We owe you Mr. M! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And with that and the divine intervention that must have been what got Abel's attention to retreat to the truck. Killer bee in tow we were, in the immortal words of Sir Willie Nelson, "On the Road again!" Lift the leg. Place the leg on the brake. I can do this. Left leg damnit! Right?

We arrive safe and sound to the shelter house. The scout meeting place. Once everyone arrived we were to caravan to the Black Township Fire & Rescue just out 69. Abel asked to ride with the assistant leader and his son. Mr. B, we shall call him, also a Mt. Vernon native and well trusted long time family friend.

Relieved I said, "Sure!" I felt much more at ease without the boys in the truck. Sure I was still behind the wheel of Jason's precious beloved truck, but I could sell my soul to replace that. My boys however were quite a different irreplaceable story. I'm sure you parent readers out there understand.

An awesome visit. I'm so glad we went. The Fire Chief took us on a splendid tour. The firemen had even prepared a meal for the boys. They got to spray a hose, get in a truck and a rescue boat. Abel didn't want to leave. He said he wanted to live there. He even wore his firemen hat once home and began his activity and coloring book they'd given him. We may have a future fireman on our hands here!

As the late, great Paul Harvey used to say, "And now . . . the rest of the story." How had Asa's evening gone? Welllll . . . ?! Seeing as the fire house visit was going late I panicked. I had originally told Mr. M that scouts usually ran about an hour and that quite possibly I would be back in time to get Asa from the field. But that if I was a little late I'd be at his house to get him shortly thereafter. Great plan, right?

As the fire house festivities trudged on I began envisioning Asa not wanting to go home with the M's. I envisioned him giving them a hard time. I envisioned him refusing. I envisioned alot of things. My imagination was not being very user friendly let's call it. Call in the cavalry. Amelia? You there?

Nevermind she'd had a terribly sick little girl earlier in the day. Nevermind she'd been hard at work cleaning and planting mums for her mum all day. Nevermind she'd just gotten all cleaned up and settled in for the evening. Drop everything and come help me baby sister. And, ummm, hurry while you're at it, k? So more to the point I call and ask her to please come get Asa from the football practice fields. And although it probably is, she says, "No problem."

With that I relax and began enjoying more of our tour. Alot of walking for me but I must say that having a walker with a seat is oober sweet. Don't know how I ever made it without one. And then the cell rings. "Where do I take him once I got him?" Red Sonja queries. I report my location. Apologize and thank her again. My it's taking a long time for her to get from the school to the fire house. Enter sister. But no Asa!

What the hell? Oh my God! Oh my God! Had it not been for the seat on my walker I surely would have fallen to the floor with this news. I could see in her eyes she was distraught. Just imagine how I felt. Okay? Now wipe it forever from your memories as it will surely cause nightmares. I was sickened. I was barely 7 at this point. Practice always goes longer than an hour. Something, my friends, must be wrong. God help me.

As big and as tuff as my big man is in all his football gear he his still my baby. At this revelation I found myself slumped upon my walker deaf to the tour leaders information and boys' goings-on. Dear God, please let Asa be safe. I must admit big tuff I own a gun and I'll kick your ass Angela was legitimately scared this Halloween season. Boo!

I give Amelia the best directions I can muster to the M's house. White Blazer. White Explorer. White Easter Bunny. Who knows what the hell I had said. It was by the Grace of God that I even spoke English at this point. Please, please, please let him be safe and sound at the M's. Eventually -- after much prayer and a hopefully not too rudely ignored tour -- Asa reappeared. Thank You Jesus!!! (And Amelia.)

Come to find out he had been at the football fields all along. Amelia made it to the M's house no thanks to my horrific directions only to be greeted by Mrs. M who had not seen or heard from her footballers let alone Asa. I can't even phathom the sinking feeling Amelia must have felt at this news. Geesh! Luckily she had the wherewithall to return to the fields. And behold, Asa was there. Pissed he didn't get to go home with his buddy, but alive and well readers. Alive and well!

Amelia didn't stay to chit chat. I could tell she was done doing good deeds for the night. The week? The month? Possibly the year. And rightly so. All three of us Orth girls may have earned a few extra gray hairs over the course of the evening. And you know what? Mine was just beginning. The tour continued . . .

My legs grew weaker. I followed less and less closely behind. Mostly because of fatigue but also do to Asa's snarling at me from his disappointment of not getting to go with his friend. Normally I would have corrected that attitude. He was being rude. To me and the tour guide. But in my weakened state I let relief reign supreme and just relished in the fact he was there -- pissed off or otherwise. Yell spit and kick if ya wanna -- I didn't care.

Then it donned on me that he may have also treated Amelia this way. I confronted him with this and he said, "No. I wasn't her fault." Then I reasoned, "So it's mine?" And after a pause for thought he answered, "No." And all was again right with the world. Can I get an Amen?

In hindsight I suppose a better Mom would have told niether of them that they could have their way. That niether of them were going anywhere. Mom's a crippled. Tuff luck. Suck it up! But you know what? Even after a night like last night I'm still not to that point. As down as I've been I'm still not a quitter. Nevermind the fortitude, besides, these days I don't even have the energy to throw in the towel.

So what's next in the Spindler adventures? A pack meeting tonite. Mom's already called this morning to offer to take the boys wherever they need to go. Ya know what? Tonite they ain't goin' nowhere! NOWHERE I TELL YA!!!

As for me however . . . rumor has it I may just have a little traveling to do in my not so distant future. "Where to?" you ask. To LIBERATION my friends. I need it now more than ever. Details to follow. After me and Gooch get our naps out of course. Is that snoring I hear already? Lazy pit bull!

Blog Knockin'

Wellll, tonite finally did it. Tonite has knocked the blog right out of me. I'm back sports fans. And after the night I just encountered, I'm back with a vengeance. First, to those who have been scouring the obits for my name -- I AM ALIVE! Why the hiatus? Vacation perhaps? Sabbatical? Nay. I have been in a very dark place.

So dark in fact I haven't felt like writing. And for those of you dear readers that truly know me -- you know that must mean DARK! Usually I try to make lite of the grimmest of situations I find myself in. Usually I fuse sarcasm with attempted wit and poke fun at my debilitating, crippling disease. Usually. But not as of late.

Why so long getting back in the saddle so to speak? Why bring you the audience down with me? That had never been my intention. My intent had always been to share with you the ups and downs of this horrendous disease. You surely know more now about MS than you'd ever wanted to, right? I know I do!

This blog began as a journey to LIBERATION. Trouble being the light at the end of the tunnel had been snuffed out. Why keep writing from complete darkness? "I have been inside your veins," professed the Doctor. "There is nothing out of the ordinary in there." Fine.

Next the Low Dose Naltrexone battle. We won the battle but not the war. He prescribed it, BUT it hasn't showed me any improvements. As a matter of fact I'm still getting around terribly. And after two rounds of high dose oral steroids -- NADA. No improvements. None. Unless weight gain and acne can be counted as such.

Enuff with excuses. I've been here all this time. Just uninspired to write, until this very moment. Until this very night. So here goes nothin': What to do? What to do? Jason out of town. And the in-laws out of town. Not the most ideal of situations for me to be in, BUT as I've said before . . . I'm an Orth. I got this! Wellll, tonite -- not so much. Not without the help of another Orth.

I'm not sure where I left off. But Asa is shaping up to be one hell of a football player. Abel too really. I'm so proud of them both. And of myself having only missed one of their practices. And none of their games. No joke. I love it so much I'd crawl on all fours to make it there. How embarrassing for them, right? I know, but it's football. Priorities!

Anyway tonite Abel had a scout meeting at the fire house and Asa had a football practice. Both wanted very badly to go to their own things and I wanted to make it happen. I rested all day in hopes I could make this happen. Logistics be damned! I got this. Cha, right?! First was supper. Use of the oven not my brightest of ideas. Heat = baaaaad! But the lasagna was a hit. Not a homemade hit, but for a frozen Stouffer's deal -- not so bad.

Then getting them and me ready to go. Asa, bless his soul, dressed himself pads, gear and all. Abel would need his scout uniform thrown in the dryer a bit to get the wrinkles out. Another baaaad idea. Heat from the dryer is the worst. Yikes! Wasn't aware until now that this disease apparently causes permanent brain damage. I mean c'mon Angela -- you know better than this stupid shit you are doing! Buy a clue already.

So Asa offers to help me outside with my walker and Abe finds the missing keys to the truck. Great. I'm all hunkered over and barely walking, but . . . great! I was at this point still upright and hopeful. Once at the rear of the truck I lowered the tail gate as Asa stood and held the walker. As I open it out rolls an empty water bottle. And my earth friendly son goes toward the street to fetch it. "No!" I yell, now leaning over the tailgate just to stay standing. "Help me get this walker folded!"

Welllll, he obeys. But to my surprise the french fries and various other trash from last weekends excursions remained inside the storage compartment below the walkers seat. No biggie besides the fact that the compartment must be empty to allow the walker to fold. Should I sling the trash to the curb with the water bottle? Nah. After all this is Park Ridge. What would the neighbors think?

I have Asa return to the house for a trash bag and bless his heart he obliges but returns not having shut the front door. That aside, my legs are growing weaker by the second. And I still had a walker to lift. Up, up and . . . DAMNIT! How as the walker to fit with the fishing poles? I pray I didn't harm the poles, BUT the walker, especially at this point, had become a necessity.

Abel back in the house to fetch Asa's helmet and slam the front door almost shut and off we'd go. Welllll, almost. Anyone ever try getting in their respective vehicle with a jacked up floor mat? No biggie, right? WRONG! Wrong especially if it's a big heavy rubber truck mat -- wrinkled and crooked. And that's not all folks. Trash restricting it's return to proper placement. Grrrr . . .

I know you're thinkin' "quit yer bitchin', bitch" but I reply, "BITE ME!" My legs already feel easily 100 pounds or more each and my overly weakened remainder of my uncooperative body, welllll I'm too tired now to even explain. Just enuff of my right ass cheek met with the seat to allow for some grunting and cussing and hoisting and eventually I was ready to go. As ready that was as I'd ever be.

Both kiddos nervous, and mom a little too this time, off we were in to the wild blue yonder. Chit chat about driver safety and school goings on commenced as I concentrated fully on lifting my almost completely worthless right leg to brake and/or accelerate as needed. By the time we'd reached Moll's I had thrown in the towel and started using my left leg. Better, I suppose, but still very odd.

And just to add to the thrill ride as we turn on to Tile Factory Abel proclaims, "There's a bee back here, Mommy!" Yay! Mommy loves bees.

But my eyes are growing weary now. Great. I guess I'll continue this rant tomorrow . . . if my eyes will let me. And my fingers cooperate. More to come . . . I hope! Later.