Thursday, August 25, 2011

Freddy Krueger

Hi y'all.  Long time, eh?  Guess I've been a busy girl since my latest LIBERATION attempt.  That must be it.  Out paintin' the town ya know.  Workin' on my top ten list of things I wanna get to do this go 'round.  She must be busy takin' her boys to Holiday World.  Nah.  Ridin' horses?  Nah.  Playin' basketball?  Volleyball?  Swimming?  Dancin'?  Bakin' a cake then.  How 'bout that?  Surely she could manage that.  No?  Maybe she went to walk the mall and got lost then?  Ha!  No such luck this time my friends.

So what's she been up to then?  I believe the high school basketball program read at one time up to 5'10" but I'm way closer to 5'8" on a good day.  And now Oompa Loompa's tower me from my handy dandy wheelchair.  But seriously I've filled this 1st month post procedure with nothing but being a big sissy.  And I don't mean Amelia's bigger, older sister.  Quite frankly I mean I've been a whiny over-sized chicken shit!  And that my friends is a hard truth for this Orth girl to swallow.

I've never really thought of my self as scared of much of anything 'til now.  Bees and wasps I suppose whilst out mowing or riding horses.  Big hairy spiders maybe.  (Little ones too, as size is relative, especially to little girls screaming for their daddy's help.)  Snakes longer than your riding mower.  Yeh.  All very real entities just like the end of the world and Freddy Krueger.  C'mon now . . . what's not scary about them?  The end of the world - self explanatory, right?  Saw a movie.  Heard of end times from the Bible.  Are you ready?  Still scary!

And as for Mr.  Krueger.  Jinkies!  He scared/scares the holy hell outta me.  To this very day I still don't even wanna see pictures of that child molesting burned up nightmare jackin' living dead bastard.  The whole idea terrified/terrifies me.  You don't know Fred?  Well if you are over 18 - you're about to.  [spoiler alert]  Ha.  Or should I say the following content is not meant for audiences under the age of, blah, blah, blah.  You get my point.  Back story.  So the parents of some kids this guy molested and or murdered got together and went all vigilante and burned him in a big wood burning furnace.  Nothing you or I wouldn't have done (or do) if anything like that ever happ'n to our kiddos, right?  Right.

But Fred comes back.  Not like 'ol Shadrack and his boys from the Bible.  Three men didn't go in and four weren't seen inside.  (Yes, prolly my favorite Bible story of alllll time!)  His remains, well, remained.  He however was showing up in all the elder kids' dreams.  Long gruesome story made short he'd show up whilst they were sleeping and kill them and others of them while they were sleeping.  Redundant much?  Yes.  Dying in yer sleep.  C'mon already.  I already had enuff trouble trying to sleep worrying about the end of the world.

Anyways, maybe I was a chicken shit, or at the very least had chicken shit tendencies.  I just never really considered myself as scared.  If the house was ever broke into I had an escape plan.  Too much information yet?  I knew were all my Daddy's guns and ammo were and I knew (know) how to use 'em.  If I could make it to the cabinet that was my first stop.  And then out back to the barn to hide and assess my situation unless of course that is where they had parked earlier to hide out until Dad left for work or G'pa left the fields.

Next move would depend on the season and on what was planted in the field next to us.  If fleeing from the front of the house and corn had been planted and was tall enuff I intended to high-tail it thru there up to G-pa's.  I knew/know where his guns are too.  Doubt in this scenario tho that I'd get to be the one wieldin 'em.  Plan B.  Beans or milo wouldn't allow for much cover tho, so if that had been the case I'd have had to cross the road and run the tree line to our other neighbors Denny and Debbie's.  This was also my winter plan.

Sooooo, maybe I was scared.  Didn't feel like it tho.  Know why?  'Cause I had a plan.  MORE ON THIS LATER.  For now on to more scary stuff:  lock yer doors yet?  What ever you do - don't fall asleep!  Seriously tho what I consider truly being scared is having absolutely no control over something.  For example Dad's surgery in Cleveland.  My mom, sister, aunt and I sat in the waiting room waiting (of course waiting, what else?) to hear how Dad's super risky - Evansville wouldn't even touch him anymore - quadruple bypass had went.  We were told they would call the phone on the desk with updates.

The phone rings.  And who of the four of us gets up to get it?  ME.  And why?  I  may not have been able to control how the surgery was going but if it was to be bad news I sure as hell could control how that news got to the three others that loved him the most in this entire world.  So although the situation was indeed scary just as it woulda been had our house been stormed by 'bad' guys wanting to steel our big screen and murder us - some how it was all okay cause I had a plan.  Bizzarro enuff for ya?  Then quit reading already!  Geeesh!

Years later, Dad dying . . . again scary, but we'd talked.  Made plans.  Dad was ready.  I was more scared for Mom and Amelia than anything.  Sooo, speaking of them two hooligans they've prolly been the ones to scare me the most lately.  Mom of course losing her leg and nearly dying.  Had no control over any of that cause I was so selfishly wrapped up in myself, remember?  Cried and prayed all the way home from ATL as Jason made record time getting us back.  But you can read allll about that back a few entries -- there will be a test on it later.  Winner gets a 3ooM.

On to Amelia then.  It wasn't her that scared me exactly - it was her beautiful little nearly newborn girl.  Not sure how long they'd been home from the hospital and back we went.  Amelia driving and me in the back with Arlissa.  Her color just wasn't right.  So we were off to emergency.  I won't make you wait for the outcome.  She stayed overnight, came home just fine, fast forward 5 stunningly beautiful years and she's now ridin' her new pony all over Creation and going to kindergarten.  You go girl!

Where was I?  At a horse show getting a sunburn under the tent?  Yeh, but with my blog.  Oh yeh.  I had been blessed with 2 strong healthy boys.  The 1st after over 30 hrs. of labor and the second 1 month early, but both praise the Lord haven't had anything but a cold or flu or two.  I tried to stay all calm, reassuring and such for Amelia at her baby girl's ER visit, BUT truth be told it was horrific.  Seeing baby girl so tiny on that table and Amelia wide eyed and pale.  There was nothing I could do.  Not even a plan damnit.

Alas we'd over reacted.  Before the night was over the hospital she ended up at was fulll . . . of her family and loved ones.  I bet they'd never seen such a crowd for one little baby and an over reaction.  I guess I'd  done something after all.  As I prayed that Arlissa be okay I prayed too for Amelia to have all the support she needed.  GOD ANSWERS PRAYERS PEOPLE! She was and she did.  Amen.  Where was I going with all this anyways?  Who knows?  Not this girl.  Maybe it's time for a proofread then, try and get back on track.

Proofreading done.  Some spelling issues, but some words I like better spelled my way anyways.  So take that spells checker!  Anyways I titled this entry Freddy Krueger 'cause I wanted to write about things that scare me.  And right this very second just as I've been since returning from my latest LIBERATION attempt - I AM SCARED!!!  Hell, today I might have even graduated from scared to skeert.  For those of you not from around here - skeert is even scarier than scared.  Worse yet?  SKEERT in all caps.  Just sayin' . . .

So here I lay.  Back in the hospital.  What of the future?  What indeed!  Thank God our house is big enuff we don't have to go upstairs.  Like putting a puzzle together.  A few fancy maneuvers later, help from Granny and Papa and . . . bed down stairs?  Check.  Bed side commode.  Check.  Shower chair.  Check.  Wheel chair.  Check.  Scooter on the way.  Check.  A plan?  Not really.  I gotta accept all this first.  Yeh, it's takin' awhile.  I'm an Orth, remember?  So what if I've had it 11 years now.  "So what?" Pink wails.  I only used to think I had it.  I only use to think I felt bad.  I was wrong.  I got 'er now tho y'all.

For long term readers then you know my father-in-law is always saying he doesn't hear the fat lady singing.  The other day ladies and gentlemen, I told him she was half way thru her first verse and fixin' to start the chorus.  Ha!  Maybe then we could all join in with her.  Any who, I hate to disappoint him, but I may need to throw in the towel on this whole getting better idea and focus what very little energy I have left on just stickin' around. 

And I know I keep saying 'just one more try' and then I'll focus on nothing but my boys, BUT this time I mean it.  Seriously.  Help me keep to it friends.  OK?  You have my permission from here on out to just bitch slap me if I should stray from the path.  No need to worry about retaliation as you can surely take a step back from my wheelchair and escape.  So here's the latest plan:

Stay put in the hospital as long as they'll have me.  Rehab after if they'll have me.  Follow-up with last LIBERATION doc.  If block is back I'll get stents.  And dare I say it?  Get better.  If block is open --- gotta start the whole acceptance game.  So either way, life must go on.  I'll get better or I won't.  Can't control that now can I?  What I can control however is how I handle it and move forward.  Rather it be in a chair or on two very sexy legs.  Just sayin' . . . 

Thanks to everybody still reading and especially to those who put up with me everyday.  I love you all!  You know who you are.  <3 <3 <3 <3

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