Still down and out

I had hoped to be feeling better by now. It's been almost a week and I'm still coughing up gray/green phlegm, and sometimes I feel like I could easily choke on it because of the tenacity and thickness of it. I'm still having headaches and body aches and a general lack of energy. 

I missed Art Club this month, and haven't felt like doing any drawing or painting. I want to get some done, but when I look at my supplies lying there, I just think "not today sister."

Dennis has been very concerned and keeps bringing home cough syrups and Nyquil and other medical supplies. I do need more tissues, and he says he'll get those tomorrow. And if Audra wants me to do breathing treatments, I'll have to get the machines cleaned and get new tubing. I don't want to reinfect myself with an old virus!

Palm Sunday

Still down with my head cold. Coughed most of the night. Trying to drink a lot of water but keep falling asleep. Obviously, I wasn't able to go to church with Dennis today. Slept through church time, then woke up when he came home. 

Poor little Maizie thought I was dead, I think, because she smothered me with kisses when I came out of the bedroom. She was lying on the floor beside the door, patiently waiting, and occasionally whining a little.

I've been napping a lot today. I had a game of Scrabble on my computer. Good thing I was playing against the computer, because otherwise my opponent would be angry at having to wait hours between my plays when I fell asleep. 

Spitting up yellow phlegm many times today. I cough often and find myself losing my consciousness multiple times. The day has flown by, and it's now 7:30 p.m. It will be dark soon and I haven't accomplished a thing.

Dennis wants me to see a doctor tomorrow, but he has to take himself to Topeka to see a doctor in the morning. And his need is trumping mine in this situation. I might be able to see my doctor on Tuesday morning. I have art club scheduled but may have to miss that this month. 

Two steps forward; three back

Just when I was starting to feel better and gaining a little momentum toward writing again, I get sick again. Yesterday, I awoke with a sore throat, coughing, sneezing, and my nose running like a faucet. I may have been running a mild fever too, but I didn't check my temperature, just treated myself with DayQuil and NyQuil. I'm hoping that will take care of it, but not going to hold my breath. Couldn't if I wanted to.

I'm not even trying to keep up with the housework or doing art or writing. I'm just resting, trying to drink fluids, and taking my OTC meds. If I'm not better by Monday, I'll be back in the clinic. Hopefully, the OTCs will take care of it.

Maizie has been a mess. She is very demanding of my attention, and is constantly destroying whatever she can get between those sharp little fangs of hers. Thankfully, she did take a nap this afternoon, so I was able to take one too. I really needed that.

Dennis isn't feeling well either. He is complaining of being short of breath, fatigued, and is frustrated because he isn't getting anything done. I keep reminding him he is retired and doesn't have to make a quota or finish anything today. Unfortunately, he connects productivity with being a man. 

I guess we're both a couple of fuddy duddies. 

Aunt Judith's Closet

The following is a piece of flash fiction I wrote years ago. I thought I'd share it with you tonight.

Judith's Closet (488 wc)

Darcy Kensley hung the blue brocade jacket with the Mandarin collar in her Aunt Judith’s closet, stood with one manicured hand on the hanger as she looked over the clothes hanging there.  Most of the clothes were in blues, muted greens, and earth colors, of the same general style, and shape.

Darcy sighed, then turned to look at Aunt Judith, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her jewelry box on the bedside table and sorting through the contents.  Pieces of jewelry, mostly fine jewels, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds, with a few opals and onyx.  Brooches, rings, necklaces with heavy pendants, and earrings that matched were spread out on the cream-colored bedspread in piles of separate colors.

Aunt Judith was dressed in an old-fashioned dress reminiscent of the 1940s, with a mid-calf length skirt and shaped bodice, with wide lapels and buttons down the front.  It was avocado green with forest green accents and buttons.  Her shoes were Mary Jane pumps with stacked heels.  She wore a pair of glasses with thick coke bottle lenses, and wire rims.  Her hair was shoulder length and put up in a French braid.  Hair that once had been a dark brunette but now was silver-gray.

Darcy, dressed in a Mickey Mouse tee and faded blue jeans with holes in the knees and thighs, as was the current fashion for teens, was visiting her aunt for the summer between her junior and senior year of high school.  After living with Aunt Judith for a couple of weeks, she decided to help her aunt “remake” herself.

“Aunt Judith, we really need to get you out of this rut you’re in,” Darcy said.  “You need some new fashionable clothes, a new haircut, and some new shoes, something more in line with today’s trends.”

“Oh rubbish,” Aunt Judith exclaimed. “These clothes have stood me quite well for the past few years, and they are good quality.  They will last another twenty years or so, I’m sure.  And my shoes are getting a little worn, but I like this style, I’ll just find another pair just like them.  My hair is styled the way I like it.  Your Uncle Vernon said I look like the cat’s meow.”

Darcy suppressed a laugh, and replied, “and that was how many years ago?”

“Oh around 1938 or so.  My memories are getting a little vague these days, but I can remember him saying that to me, and in those days, that was the ultimate compliment.  What does your boyfriend call you?”

Darcy giggled.  “He calls me the Bomb.  That’s today’s slang for the cat’s meow.”

The two women laughed, and Darcy gave her aunt a big hug and kissed her on the forehead.

“I think we should go shopping and get our hair done tomorrow.  Wouldn’t that be fun?” Darcy squeezed Judith’s shoulder.

“Why, I think that would be the Bomb.  It’s a date!” Judith answered.

Ornery Maizie

My puppy, Maizie, is such a people dog. She is ornery, inquisitive, smart, and adorable. 

This morning, I was trying to set up my meds into these daily compartment boxes. I have two seven-day boxes that hold my morning and evening pills. I usually confine Maizie to the back porch while I'm doing this, because she has an incurable curiosity, and is constantly trying to snatch one of my pill bottles.

So, when she poked her nose into my pill bottle box, I swatted at her nose with my fingers with a firm "NO!"  She jumped back and looked at me with an expression that read "What?!" Then she sat back and watched me for a few seconds before attempting to snatch a small bottle again.

This gained her another swat and a firm "NO, Maizie!" She left my side for a few moments and played with one of her toys on the floor. I went on with my pill sorting and when Maizie heard one of my bottles drop into the box, she returned to the scene of the would - be crime and poked her little snout into the box again. 

I shoved her back and shouted at her "NO, MAIZIE!!" She laid down on her front paws on the floor with her butt up in the air. Her stubby tail was wagging as fast as it could go. She was enjoying the attention, even if it was negative attention. 

"You little squirt! I think you need to go to the back porch, even if it is raining outside!" Again I got the "What?" expression and a renewed tail wagging. 

We continued this back and forth conversation with intermittent peace while she played with her toys for about twenty minutes, until I had set up all the medications for the upcoming week. Finally, I was able to return the box of medications to its usual place and sit back down in my recliner. Maizie immediately jumped up on my lap for some loving. 

l love that little dog. But she can be a real "pill" sometimes.

Humpty Dumpty Does it again

I've done so well with walking around this house. It's so small that most places I can get around by holding on to furniture and walls and doorways. I hadn't fallen for five years. Today, I broke that good record.

While sitting on my bed sorting and folding laundry to put them away, I was fine, until I moved to the foot of the bed and I forgot the cardinal rule: never sit on the corner of the bed. We have one of those soft, thick mattresses that is great to sleep on, but it has one flaw: the corners are extra soft and will not hold you if you sit on them. I sat, I windmilled my arms and slid off onto the floor on my right hip. Thank God it wasn't my left hip, which is artificial.

I didn't get hurt, thanks to the carpet we have under the bed and extending a couple of feet around the outer edge. I just plopped down and sat there. I knew there was no way I could get back up from that position, so I slid, and I groped for a solid handhold, and I slid some more, and tried many times to get up to my knees. I knew I could get up if I just could get on my knees. 

After about half an hour of flopping around, shoving lighter furniture and a box out of the way, I finally got twisted around to where I could sit with my legs in front of me. I still was struggling to pull myself up to my knees. My left arm, which I had been supporting my upper body with, was starting to tremble and feel sore from exertion, and I was getting a little short of breath. So, I lay down on my side to rest for a bit.

By this time, I was thinking I might actually have to call Dennis in to help. I didn't want to do that, because he has a really bad back now, and had already messed it up last week. So, I asked my other Main Man, God. I told him I was in a real fix and I really needed his help. And that I was going to try once more to get up, and if I wasn't able to do it this time, I'd have to call on Dennis, and I really didn't want to do that.

I rested for another minute, then grabbed the frame of the bed, which was the only solid furniture item I could trust and counted down from three. Three, two, one...Now! I gave it all I could and pushed and pulled at the same time. Suddenly it was like I had some help and I was able to get one knee under me. I continued to push and pull myself until I was on both knees! Hallelujah! 

From that point, it only took a few seconds to get ing my feet under me and stand up. Thank you, God! I decided to let the rest of the laundry wait for a while and went to my recliner in the living room to rest. I was exhausted.

I told Dennis what had happened and he asked why I didn't call him. I told him I didn't want him lifting with his back, but I was just about to the point of asking when I had Divine Help.  I jokingly told him he could fold his own socks this time.  He did that and even put away the rest of the laundry for me.

Who says prayer doesn't work?

The Great Gatsby

I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I signed up for a MFA class of WVU: The Great Gatsby. The idea is to read the novel, then discuss it in the classroom, with some extra research into the author, the "signs of the times", and the characters and style of writing. There are many more facets to the story that are involved, including point of view, symbolism, syntax, and a host of other characteristics of the story. WOW! I think I should have just read the book and commented on what I thought of it, but that simplicity is not allowed.

I normally don't tear a book apart while reading or following reading it. I belong to a book club, and we might discuss a character or plot line a little bit, but nothing on a grand scale. But I'm doing college level work with this assignment, and I'm not sure I'm up to the task. I'm not as smart as I thought I was.

Trying to write my own novel doesn't seem this hard, it just takes so much time. I tend to be a "by the seat of my pants" writer, which can leave me stranded sometimes at critical points. Do I kill the character? Or save him for another chapter? Should he be a larger part of the plot, or just a momentary blip on the radar? Working with an outline would be better, at least in a general way, but that seems boring.  Writing can be a bore, sometimes.

This is just the first week in my Gatsy course. I've read the assigned chapters of the book on my Kindle. I've looked at the assignment and about fainted with how involved it is. But I want to try to accomplish this lesson without completely embarrassing myself. So back to the drawing board, and I'll see you all  later.

The Prodigal Blogger

Hi again. Dixie Barnes checking again for the first time in about three years. I've had some major life issues since my last post.

Dennis is still with me, but he's been going through major health problems. His Agent Orange Poisoning has left him with cancers in his bladder and prostate. He's had several surgeries, chemo, and just finished radiation treatments (35). Now we are waiting for the side effects of the treatments to subside and to learn if all the wear and tear on his body and soul have been worth it. We don't know if the cancer is gone, or if we have to go through more treatments.

In the meantime, he's been suffering with major back issues, too. sciatica, spondylosis, degenerative discs, and more. He can only stand for a few minutes at a time, and says it feels like daggers sticking into his backside, where the sciatic nerve branches down into both legs. The hot flashes that have resulted from pre-radiation injections are very annoying to him, and his daughter and I, while sympathizing to an extent, still enjoy teasing him with a "Welcome to women's world" now and then.

He walks stooped over, a big change from just a few years ago, when he was tall and straight. His skin color is much paler than it's ever been. He always had a nice tan as a young man. He tends to repeat his stories over and over, and is obsessed with his health, understandably. I pray that our friends and family will forgive him for talking about his genital discomfort and hot flashes when we get together.

We spend a lot of time together at home watching his favorite tv shows. If it's something I don't like to watch, I have my phone or my laptop handy. I don't always go with him on his road trips to the doctor or the shopping trips he takes to Tractor Supply, etc. But I know he understands that I love him and support him. I wish we could go on one last trip together to the mountains, which we both dearly love seeing. But I'm afraid our traveling days are over.

I'm still doing the art thing. Once a month we have a little meeting lasting about 90 minutes or so, and we discuss our art and work on projects. We try to challenge ourselves to work in different mediums and techniques, and we still take turns displaying a painting in our local bank. That's always a hoot!

I still write, too. I usually journal or write essays and short stories. I need to work on my two novels in the works. I've decided to rejoin WVU to work on the basics of my writing. I want to do the MFA program in WVU. It is a challenge I hope I can finish.

That's enough for tonight. I tend to babble on. Sorry about that.

Keep on writing, reading and drawing/painting. Catch you later.