When It Rains . . .

Wow! Have I got alot of splainin' to do Lucy! So much has happened since I last blogged. Major ups and downs. So have a seat and buckle up. This could be a bumpy ride. And remember to keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times. We will not be responsible for the loss or damage of any valuables. Yours truly, The Management. I've often wondered if they considered children valuables. Huh? Only the intro paragraph and already I'm off track.

Where'd I leave ya? Early to church on Sunday? Dominatrix walker-free Monday? Awww, yes! Sore as hell Tuesday. School about to start, if it were a couple of years ago back my freshman year in high school I'd have been attending volleyball two-a-days about now. They were monsterously tuff. And I'd come home so sore. Well. After my weekend and then my belligerent attempt at going walker free- wow! I felt like, pooooo.

Kristen? You still readin'? You know. Awww, those were the days. I'd come home and flop down on the floor beneath the ceiling fan in the living room. Dad would be in his recliner and say, "This is good for ya!" And with that my teeth would clench in anger and I'd think to myself, 'Yeh, right!' Grrrrr! But why be mad at Dad? It was Coach Tucker that needed a good beating! Anyways, where'd my point go? I WAS SORE.

So sore there was nothin' to do but mess around on the internet. That's all I ever do anyways, right? What was I bitchin' about? On Facebook for a bit and my angst turned to hope. Huh? What had happened? Had it been Ryan's RSVP to the Fall Festival? Nah. It was appearing as though maybe a dam was starting to break in our CCSVI War. First up, some governmental break thru in Canada. Yay, for all my new Canadian friends!

And what's this? Before I could dive any further into the details of it all I got a message from Tommy - a new northern Indiana friend of mine also suffering from MS. He'd had a lead on a doc in South Bend and although I admit I hadn't put much faith in it at first (as newbie docs don't thrill me) . . . he already had an appointment for testing and treatment. Insurance was payin' and all it would cost him he'd said was a tank of gas. Wow! That was fast. I had to beg and plead with my newbie. Maybe this doc wasn't a newbie after all. Hmmmmm. Interesting. And Tommy passed me the good doc's # and info. Hmmmm, indeed.

As I start to dive in and research this maverick - another new facebook friend pops on. This one from Florida. This one who's before video so reminded me of me. This one who is now walking in heels. Apparently her doc has found away around all the red tape and is gearing up to announce his triumphant return to private practice in September. Even more magical is he is testing and treating for $2,000.

What? Too good to be true right? This influx of info was giving me a head cake. No that's not a typo. Head cakes are waaay worse than headaches, BUT not quite of migraine caliber. What up with that? Had it been God tapping me on the head to tell me I was being an idiot?

"Don't be a fool! Stay in school," He'd say. No, wait. That's Mr. T. God would prolly say, "Use thy walker!" and "Make some phone calls, for the doctors shall not come to you." So far tho, I remained skeptical of unresearched, unknown, docs and I was still ambulating assistance free - unless you count walls and furniture. Sure. I admit to being a bit hard headed. BUT, I also admit that I don't see there being a problem with that. Thus, no fixing necessary. No 12 steps to recovery plan needed here.

And then a knock at the door. A surprise visit from my sis and her kiddos to tell us all about their vacation. Indy zoo, museum and Holiday World. They even brought pictures. Looks like they had a blast. I CAN'T WAIT TIL I CAN WALK!!! My boys got excited about going just hearing of their cousins' escapades. I so wanna take 'em so many places and not be a hinderance to them all whilst there, but be able to join in on all the fun. PLEEEEAAAAASE! Ever feel like tellin' Santa that's all you'd ever want for Christmas? Ever, ever again?

Amelia and I caught up on some grown-up talk while the kiddos played a rousing game of Duck, Duck, Goose. Keep in mind . . . my Goose is quite a bit larger than the duck participants of almost equal height and weight. The whole thing made me and Gooch nervous. Poor puppy had to go in his cage to relax. He's sooo like his momma and not used to too much commotion.

Don't get me wrong tho, 'cause I immensely enjoyed their shenanigans too. And Amelia and I schooled them all on the 'reverse your direction trick' which in hindsight, considering my eldest son's tackling ability may not have been the best idea we'd ever had. But alas, no one got hurt, everyone had fun, and we'd made plans for swimming the very next day. Welllll, not me yet, but maybe. We'd just have to see. And, Baby Girl . . . thanks for the chocolate sundae too!

After they'd left it was near to impossible to get my two to calm down. The Aleve I had taken just before our guests arrival had failed to snuff out the ache (cake). Should I take another? Better not. I'll just play the role of referee a little longer 'til Jason gets home. Then to fight this headache and maybe get a jump on tomorrow's festivities, I'd hoped to go to bed early. It was just gonna be me and Gooch anyways as the guys had planned on going to KungFu. I planned on researching leads on docs during their absence - all from the comfort of my bed of course.

What's with me and all the plan making as of late? Was that a side effect of LDN? Whatever the reason, it needed to stop. I still have MS. Plan making never works out. I knew that. Geesh! The head cake worsens. Trips to the bathroom begin requiring the walker. And then one trip back I forget it. And SPLAT! This fall hits so hard - had my tongue not been safely resting behind my teeth - I surely would have bitten it off. "Snap." That my friends was the undeniable sound of teeth hitting teeth. Very unpleasant.

But what's this? Never mind about my aching chompers. All of my 200 pounds was resting on my calves. And my precious knees. Yikes! They were on fire. In agony. Yeeeeeooow! Good news: I can feel 'em. Bad news: I can feel 'em. How in the world was I gonna move 'em? After the uncontrollable cussing subsided, I reasoned, 'Was it time to call Jason?' BUT, I couldn't turn enuff to see the clock atop the mantle.

I look to Asa. He's a big boy. But was he big enuff? And as he looked back at me
with an Orth twinkle in his eye as if to say, "Hell, yeh, Ma! How dare you doubt me!" He had just carried in my fancy new walker Jason had ordered me. He moaned and groaned a little as the box was awkwardly large, but her got 'er done. Even Abe helped with guiding the box. What a dynamic duo.

My mind wandered to football. Asa Spindler clears out the entire defensive line making way for his little bro Abel Spindler to get thru and score the touchdown. "What teamwork!" the announcer will say. "Folks. You've just witnessed another Spindler Thunder and Lightening combination!" Sooo, he'd need to be in prime killing condition in just a couple of weeks. Alas, I asked him to fetch me the phone. And luckily it was nearing 5:00.

Enter Jason stage left. And the hero hoists the leading lady to her couch. And scene. After taking yet another call from work - even after 5:00 - he commences to putting my new ride together so I can break 'er in on my way to the stairs. As, get this, my old walker remained at the ready just outside the bathroom door where I'd absent-mindedly left it parked. "Pretty smart," says the husband. And ya know what? I am both pretty and smart! So I agreed.

My new Cadillac of walkers, which my hubby picked out and ordered a all on his own, was very cool. I was and remain very impressed. First and foremost it is my favorite color- PINK! Four wheels. Hand brakes with reflectors (for all the nighttime walking I do). A padded seat with back rest. And a covered storage compartment beneath the seat. Talk about 'Pimp My Ride.' All I needed was some fuzzy dice and a horn. Look out world, here I come! If I can remember . . .

A coke and two Aleve later I found myself too tired to research any docs. I was even too loopy to harvest crops. Perhaps I had taken an Aleve earlier and forgot I had. Oh well. Head on pillow I was set to get my sleep on. Then the phone rings. Whoops. Jason forgot to bring it up to me. (We're down to one cordless as the boys are especially ruff on them.) Anyways, about a minute later I hear footsteps on the stairs. Must be Jason bringin' me the phone before he leaves.

Huh? He didn't just toss it to me from the hall like normal?! Then he approaches the bed and puts his right hand on my hip, his left still clenching the phone. His eyes remind me of his eyes when he had to tell me my LIBERATION was unsuccessful. Somethin' was up for sure, BUT what? Just frickin' tell me already! The suspense may kill me. And he leads with, "Stay in bed . . ."

And follows with news they'd called an ambulance for my mother. I was given strict orders not to call my sister as she had everything under control, BUT was a bit too busy to have to field calls. Well sure, telemarketers and such, even drugged up worthless cripples calling just to chat, BUT I thought she might could handle one inquiry from her eldest sister. Ya know? Me. First born of the woman awaiting the ambulance. I dunno. Just sayin'.

As I began to sit up and stew over that order. He sheds a little more light on the situation and before leaving the room orders me to remain calm and in bed as no one needs me falling with everything else going on. Ha! My knees still wimpering in pain I couldn't have agreed more. But, ummmm, this is my Momma we're talking about. Back in the days of mobility I was a bit more involved, let's call it.

One particular night my Dad had thought he was dying. I made it from my house in Lawrence Addition to their Point Township house in a record 2 minutes. Have I mentioned how awesome my 300M is? Well, it is! And if I weren't drugged and in the middle of a damned exacerbation I betcha I could make that time again. And maybe even beat it if I got the distress call from the main floor. In Park Ridge now I'm closer to Point, but may have to take all the steps of our multi-level home into account. Nonetheless, I needed to be there.

I sat stewing. My head cake began baking. Maybe even burning. I posted a prayer request on Facebook to pass time. The response was enormous by the way and meant the world to me. I instant messaged with Shelley who'd just talked to Mom earlier in the day. And then it hit me - HARD! What if? What if they couldn't get her back from this? Jason assured me earlier they would and that I'd only get in the way if I were there. Blah, bla, bla. To hell with reason.

I make my mind up. If Jason won't hop on board and take me - I'll go my own self. Me and my 300M. Just try and stop us. I get up to get dressed. Reaching for my bra I'd thrown on the growing pile of dirty clothes earlier, the phone began to ring. Must be Amelia I'd thought. In mid stoop to reach the pile near the door towards the foot of the bed I switched gears to reach behind me for the phone on the bed.

A success! Well, mostly. My left hand grabbed the phone but the forward momentum of my body was still determined to get to the pile near the door. What's in between the two? I'm glad you asked. It's a huge old dresser with an even huger old mirror with shelves perched atop it. Gorgeous bedroom suite I got from my Mom when she moved into her smaller apartment. I'm so very proud of it. Anyways, I plowed into it as I managed miraculously to hit the talk button and say, "Hello?"

I cleared the dresser of nearly all it's contents atop it . . . including the mirror and the shelves' precious contents. Empty coke glasses had been strewn here and there. Koontz books and King's. A knick knack or two. Some change. A zip drive. And thank God - - - the mirror teetered but did not fall. Had it you may never have have been blessed with the rest of my story. That or I'd be sitting here blogging whilst dead.

And no I'm not overreacting. I too came down. My rear twisting towards the dresser as I had been reaching that direction for the phone I had the pleasure of hitting every handle of every drawer on the way down. Good thing my butt is big. Another good thing? Grandma's blanket was still there to soften my eventual meeting with the floor. Thanks again, Grandma! But had that mirror come down on me, wow, lights out . . .

So am I talking to Amelia during all this? Nope. God? Nope, tho I prolly should've been. It was Jason who had called. The entire event I had been struggling to carry on a calm, cool, collected conversation with my hubby who had just moments ago warned me against getting up. Had he heard the commotion and called to catch me in the act? Nah. Amelia had just called his cell phone with an update.

A sidenote: She called the cell instead of the house phone assuming we'd be well on our way to the hospital by now. The report had been that the ambulance took awhile as it had to come all the way from the hospital, but that they'd given her a shot and she was beginning to become a bit more responsive. A bit from what I'd wondered at the time. With this news I explain to Jason I'd already gotten fall #2 out of the way and that I was nearly dressed and on my way downstairs.

I may have fudged the truth a bit as I sat there in my p.j.s but I got dressed and conquered the stairs lickedy split. I fell a bit near the bottom of the steps when the phone I had stuck in my bra began to ring. It crashed to the tile in to two pieces still ringing. (OK, I admit I may be the one tuffest on the phones.) After making sure my seat atop the third stair up was a stable one Jason scooped up the pieces and reassembled the phone. It had been my Grandpa reporting the ambulance had just passed the house. He didn't wanna talk to me though. He told Jason just to tell me. Am I that ruff a customer people? Surely not. Plus that was a rhetorical question.

Once the boys were out of the pool, dried, and dressed, we were on our way. Jason had already called and given his parents a heads-up. So we dropped the boys at their house and headed to E-ville. Emergency parking was under construction. Way under! So we parked near the entrance and get this - walked! My Cadillac walker had a heck of a maiden voyage. Jason had tore the tags off it as he loaded it in the truck, but it still had the plastic wrap on the wheels. Makes em' shiny like a fresh coat of Armor-ALL.

Talk about a journey. We went on quite a trek. Why, pray tell? 'Cause my dear hubby didn't think I could, I guess. Again with the logistics. He wanted to get a chair for me but then we wouldn't have a walker. He thought we'd look silly with both. And all I could worry about with all the tiny crowded rooms was, would I fit even without an arsenal of large clunky assistive devices? So I tried my best to simplify the situation. Pray, step. Pray, step. Pause. Pray. Pray, step. Pray.

When we reached the waiting room full of sickly gagging and yacking my first thought was, 'Oh shit! I'm on immune suppressant!' But then as I held my breath and attempted to speed up my gait thru the ill masses I realized I had kicked the injections some time ago. Yay, me! When we'd made it to the check-in desk the nurse seated on the other side was reaching for her patient sign in clipboard. Ah-ha! As flushed and as out of breath as I may have been they may have very well been ready to admit me, but I wasn't here for me.

Room 16. Wow. That one's way back there. I think I've actually been in that exact one. Sadly I've been in many of them. But not in a good long time now. Should I thank the blood pressure meds? The inclined bed? God? Or wait! I know. Maybe my neuro's new policy not to admit MSers for steroid treatment. Ha! Anyways, we arrived and Amelia and Grandma were with her. As nurses tended to Mom I got caught up on the night's timeline.

I can't afford the rights to her story so I'll just give you the abridged version. Making no sense. Concern. Low blood sugar. Volunteer firemen. EMTs. Ambulance. Hospital. And when we arrived to the hospital all they'd done was started an IV, took some blood, and continued trying to get her level up. After all that and a meal it was still only at 82. A far cry from the 24 it had been in the beginning, but still not being higher after all they'd done was odd.

Enter the doctor. Thank goodness I was there. Ready to send her home, I added to her list of ailments her cough and her drowning spells. That's what they sound like to me anyways when she explains the episodes to me. So the good doc takes a closer listen and orders a chest x-ray and ekg. Guess what? A touch of pnemonia and possibly COPD. Sooo, she was in for antibiotics and further observation for the night. Guess what else? She was pissed!

And though my Aleve was starting to wear off, exhaustion was beginning to set in. Jason could see it 'cause he went to fetch a wheel chair without allowing for much discussion on the matter. I simply held my folded up walker on the chairs foot rest and everything went smooth as butter. And on the way home I got a frisco melt and shake. Yay, me! Home and in bed before Wednesday. Yippee!

I only thought I was sore Tuesday. Wednesday was a whole other story. Shew! The boys were still at Granny and Papaw's so I messed around on the laptop upstairs in bed for a while after Jason left for work expecting to hear from Mom or Amelia real soon. No such luck on that front, BUT on the CCSVI saga, the tide was a changin'. I had private messages and emails from several of my MS sisters and brothers. Thank you Judy, Irishbear, Tommy and Tina.

They'd heard of a doc in Indiana and thought of me. Yay! And it was the same doc Tommy was scheduled to see on Monday. Wow. So I called Jason to see what he thought as he hadn't been real fond of the Florida scenario. Strike that. He was real fond of the price tag, but just a little untrusting due to the whole too good to be true saying. And as bad as he wanted me liberated he wanted to be absolutely sure everything was on the up and up.

I continued with the details and background I'd gotten from Tommy. And I mentioned Irishbear had sent me an email saying I could have the procedure and walk a couple of blocks to see a Notre Dame football game. WHAT? Next to Notre Dame - must be a sign! Jason didn't need to hear anymore. He called them right away and left a message. Bummer. They must be gettin' swamped with calls. And his contact info was spreading like wildfire throughout our Facebook family. Please Lord don't let him get shut down. And please Lord let me get in.

Then at a little after 9 I broke down and called Amelia to see what she'd heard. Nothin'. She hadn't made any contact, nor did she have a room #. So I call and got her room # and called her room a couple times to no answer. Maybe she was down for testing. Or maybe she'd taken a cab home. Any more aggravated than she was the night before she might even be walking home at this point.

I spent the rest of my morning drifting in and out of sleep and farming. Exhaustion, I tell ya. Rough stuff. Amelia calls and I relay the # hoping maybe she' d have better luck at getting thru. Just maybe tho, if they weren't releasing her - maybe she wasn't gonna talk to us. What a mess. If you're reading this Mom, we only take you to get help because we love you. Now shape up! Checked your sugar lately? How are your crops?

Jason comes home for lunch and reports he's talked to the South Bend Doc's secretary. Yay! Says she sounds intrigued about my being a 'nothing out of the ordinary' case. She promised Jason she would present my info to the doc later that day. Wow. The ball really is rolling on this one. Or should I say we've thrown a Hail Mary. And it's a beautiful spiral, almost floating in slow motion thru the South Bend sky. Will the good doc catch it in the end zone? Stay tuned to find out.

Later on Mom finally calls me to report she's comin' home. She further explains her family doc came in to see her and had no idea why she was even there. Huh? A follow-up appointment on Friday? Great! I look forward to being there to get to the bottom of things. Me and that Lee . . . surely by now he must hate to see me comin'. Pity, really, but I do feel our love/hate relationship gets more done. Or maybe that's all in my head sorta like my disease.

The rest of my Wednesday. More sleeping. Phone answering. Caught up with "Hell's Kitchen" on hulu. Annnnnnd, guess what else? More sleepin'. Then about 7 I wake to the boys' voices in astonishment about something or the other. And Jason scurrying from room to room on the main floor.

Then two boys enter with hugs kisses and hellos and one frazzled looking handsome young man with a sack full of Mexican take-out. But why frazzled? The first words out of his mouth were, "Did Gooch come see ya this afternoon?" Puzzled, I answer, "Well, no." He continued, "Well he's been loose all afternoon . . ." And from there I'll spare you the gory details of his adventures.

Unfortunately (did I type that out loud for all to see?) both cats are still alive and enjoying toying with the trash scraps the mongrel left behind. Not his fault. Poor pup had a lonely night last night and then more of the same today. I hadn't come down for our morning feeding ritual. He was prolly starvin'. Poor pit.

After I'd devoured my supper I spent some time messaging my sister online. We got alot talked about. Mom, of course. Movies. Kids. Horse shows. School. And most important of all . . . OUR PLANS POST LIBERATION. We're gonna play volleyball together on a league somewhere or another. We'll start our own if we gotta. We're gonna roller blade downtown. Show horses world-wide. Dance like dancing queens. Awww. This list could become a massive blog all on its own. #1 on the list is of course to become Super Mom!!!

Finally the masses begin joining me upstairs. Daddy must finally be deeming it late enuff for bedtime. Both arrive with their game systems of choice in hand and nearly glued to their faces. I truly don't know how they could see to walk. The little boogers didn't even stop to pee. They turned the corner to their room. "Night, Mom." "Night, Mom." Well Lah Tee Dah! It was as if they were in a trance.

Finally all settled in Jason and I commence to grown-up talking. Hate to disappoint - it was nothing kinky. What I mean to say is he talked about his day at work and I updated him as to my Mom's settling in at home. Stuff like that when he out of the blue asks, "Did I tell you I talked to Maribeth again?" Huh? No. Do tell.

I guess Gooch had thrown him off his game with his trash-a-thon 'cause you'd have thought news regarding advances towards LIBERATION would have come even before the presentation of the delicious Mexican feast from Tequilas. Yummmm. Anyways, the news was that the doc didn't care about my failed attempt. Send on my info and let's LIBERATE this girl! Well, yeeeehaaaaw! I'm ready!

Jason would send them all they needed first thing tomorrow and I was to further research the doc and try and contact more of his previous patients. Deal? Deal! NOTRE DAME FOOTBALL!!! Wonder if I can fit in a game? Or a tour? Maybe they'd be interested in giving the Spindler Lightening and Thunder combo a tour of their campus. I'm stoked. Can you tell? LDN in and down. And I'm starting a vitamin Thursday.

Trash Day. Thank's Gooch for showing it all to us. I wondered before descending the stairs if I'd even be able to get to the couch. Luckily Jason had already picked the majority of Gooch's bounty up and re-trashed it. Honey Nut Cheerios and a huge horse pill lookin' multi-vitamin later I was back to farmin'. Must be in the genes. And the jeans.

So today is Thursday. What'd I do? Blogged. Farmed. Netflixed. (That's a new word!) And cuddled with my pup. Apparently he needs a day to recover from his adventures too. Hopefully by tomorrow we'll both be on the mend and much closer to our lazy selves. If I survive the trip to go see Doc Lee, I desperately need to take the boys to get school supplies. We'll see. One things for certain --- I'm not making any plans!

To everyone still reading, I so appreciate y'all stickin' with me. We may be nearing the finish line. Will it be in South Bend, Indiana? I've soooo got the Fighting Irish theme song stuck in my head. That's what I need - luck 'o the Irish. Maybe it's been there all along. Lovs ya!