Where to begin … ?

First of all, I want to share that I’ve had the amazing experience of growing closer to some of my blog friends even when I wasn’t actively blogging. Last November, I posted about online friendships … and life promptly went on to confirm my thoughts. Over the months when I wasn’t able to blog, I still chatted with some of you quite often … daily even. It’s been wonderful, warm and uplifting! Not sure what I would have done without the companionship. Thank you.

I guess the next thing I should share is just a bit of newsy stuff. The son who was missing last fall is home now, and seems to be pulling his life together. I guess that the problems he was facing last fall have eased, and he’s been able to relax just a bit. He just graced me with wild roses in a glass two weeks in a row. Motherhood has its perks! ;o)

Another positive event … a neighbor showed up about a month ago and harrowed our garden area. We have a garden for the first time in 3 years. I’m spending the better part of my time pulling weeds. The garden is between 8,500 and 9,000 square feet, and there’s mostly just Doug and I working in it, so the weeds are really getting ahead of us fast, but I think we’ll still have a decent load of veggies at the end of the summer. I hope to have time to make salsa this fall … mmmmmm …. I’ll blog about it, if I do. Also intend to post photos of the garden as the season progresses.

In another month, we’ll be heading for camp. I will be having quite a bit of company almost as soon as I get there, and I hope to have time to take photos and share the adventures with you. An old friend from PA and his family will be joining me for a few days, my dear friend Joanie and her Mum will be visiting me, and hopefully, a very good friend from my ministry days will visit for a week. I’m really looking forward to it!

Finally, a patient blog update. When I saw my primary care doc a few weeks ago, I found out that I’m creeping toward stage 5 kidney failure, and unless it bounces back up a bit for a while longer, I’ll probably have decisions to make about dialysis the next time I see my nephrologist. I knew it would come to this eventually, but being faced with the prospect isn’t quite the same as anticipating it from a distance. Things could improve again for a while … it’s a see-saw with a mind of its own.

In the next week, I intend to post some garden pics for all of you out there with a green thumb. Need some sunshine though … we’ve had a lot of roving thunderstorms. Think SUN! ;o)

Rumors of my untimely demise are (somewhat) exaggerated. Really. (I think.)

I’ve been receiving emails asking if I’m OK, if all is well, etc. Yes, I’m here, I’m alive, and as a dear friend used to say: “able to sit up and take nourishment.”

From the previous post, my readers know that last fall was a doozy. I will eventually finish my detailed posts, but for now, I’ll just give you a brief outline:

In August, I ended up in the hospital with an infection that I probably caught while swimming in the lake at camp. Within two weeks of my discharge, my oldest son vanished under really suspicious circumstances. We spent the next two weeks in the surreal world of wondering if he was dead or alive. He turned up alive later, but in trouble. That situation is ongoing.

About two weeks after we found him, our home was burglarized. We were still up at camp, and had put off moving back home for a week for unrelated reasons. That was the last week of October. At that time, I was taking finals in my current course, and preparing to begin my next course. My laptop died unexpectedly during that first week in the new course. Because of that, I was in a real rush to move back home where I could use one of the many desktop computers we had at home to continue my classes.

That was not to be, however. That very next week end, the first week of November, we were burglarized again. That time, they not only kicked in doors, and added to the mayhem caused by the first burglars (drawers emptied, etc.), they also took everything of value that we had left in the house - practically everything of use that we didn’t happen to have with us up at camp.

No more computers at home. I had to withdraw from school, since I no longer had a computer for attending classes.

Over the next month or so, many other unpleasant things happened, both in relation to the events I mentioned, and in unrelated addition to those events. Some of them are quite personal, and I’m not ready to be that “out there” about them, yet.

In mid November, my sweet son, Dougie, bought a laptop and a computer with the last few paychecks he received from a job he was leaving, and let his dad and I use them. I reapplied for the next session of school.

By late December, I discovered that my identity had been stolen during the burglaries. One more concern to add to the heap.

On January 7, school started again. I had to double up on the courses in order to not lose my school loans, and found that I’d chosen my courses very poorly. Both were amazingly intense writing courses, and during some of the weeks, I was spending 12 to 17 hour school days. Really, it was a bit of a nightmare that I wasn’t quite ready for. Those courses just got done last week, and now I’m taking one simple gen ed course which requires a great deal of reading, but I feel as if I’m on vacation, all the same.

And so, my friends, that is a very brief description of the blur of the last 7 months. There hasn’t been any space for doing anything that takes more than a few minutes at a time.

I want to thank all of my Facebook friends for the Scrabulous games which have given me brief “vacations” from the here and now … those few moments of word puzzle solving have helped to keep me sane (I think.)

Although I’m a person who shies away from “drama,” this last stretch of my life has had enough drama in it to last a small town of people for a lifetime. I promise that I will share as much of it as I can with you, however I find it hard to share things that are emotionally intense as they’re ongoing … it’s easier to do so retrospectively. Still, I do have a lot to share - just please be patient with me, let me keep working things out, and eventually I’ll feel more able to be open again.

Please forgive me for unanswered emails … they’re still in my inbox (yes, even those from before the Holidays,) and I will reply to them. Thanks for your patience.

And a saga it truly has been …

There has been a lot going on - some of which I shared with you, some of which I haven’t, but many of you are aware of anyway … and some that I’ve kept rather private …

The last time I gave everyone a real update was at the end of August when I ended up in the hospital. On September 23, I told you that there was a lot going on, and that once it was over, “I may have a real good story for you,” but that for the time being, I needed “to be a good little Moofie and keep a low profile.”

Well … here’s the promised story - plus some, since things didn’t end there. I’m probably going to have to write all of this out in several installments. Let me pick up where I left off …

Once upon a time there was a little Moofie …

… who really hated to have to leave her nice summer camp, and travel home for any reason whatsoever.

However, on Friday, September 7, about a week after my discharge from the hospital, I had to make a run home to get some lab work done. Whenever I have to go home from camp, I almost always make a day of it. If Dougie, my chef son, isn’t working, he and I will travel together, and pick up my Mother-in-law for a threesome. We then take care of whatever business is at hand, and once the duty is done, we treat ourselves to dinner in a restaurant. Home is only a minute or two from my Mother-in-law’s house, and I decided to stop there quickly to see if there were any phone messages to deal with, or mail to pick up. I was surprised to see a calling card balanced on the doorknob, and a bit wary when I saw it was from a detective from the local police department.

My first thought was: “Oh geeze! Darian’s in trouble again.” My oldest son has a long history of friction with the local police. They’ve nicknamed the “curbside lawyer,” and he’s nicknamed them … um, *cough* … never mind. I entered the house, and promptly called the police station to inquire about the card. They told me that there was a court date on the following Monday, and they wanted to deliver a summons. Darian’s apartment had been broken into, and many of his belongings destroyed earlier in the year; he was supposed to testify against the perpetrators. I assured the officer that I would give Darian the message before heading back up to camp.

I immediately went out to the barn. Yes, my son really did live in a barn. He’d made a little apartment for himself in the back of the barn, bought a furnace, a small fridge, and had things set up quite comfortably back there. During the winter, he was warmer in the barn than we were in the house. There was a big enclosed bay for working on his cars which was separate from his living room and bedroom, and a huge field just outside the back door, which was perfect for big loud parties with huge bonfires. His place was normally busier than Grand Central Station.

This time, it was ominously quiet … and empty. The door to his private area was wide open … and not a soul was in sight. Odd. Darian has a rather crippling case of paranoia; of course, he would be quick to tell you that it’s not paranoia, and that he has good reasons to think the way he does; to be sure, where some issues are concerned, he’s right. But, suffice it to say that he’s not one to run off and leave the door to his apartment wide open. I called out to him from the entry, but there was no answer. I made a mental note that he had the barn lights on although it was daytime, and felt irritation at his lack of concern for the cost of electricity.

Thinking that he might be in the apartment area asleep, I ventured into the work area … trying hard to not trip over the tools and the rest of the amazing mess which was scattered from one end to the other. He’d never been neat; in fact, my last communication with him had been a rather angry note left on what I could still find of the kitchen table, telling him to pick up his mess in the house. This was another story, however! It looked as if a compression bomb had gone off in there! I went into his “living room,” and saw that it had been ransacked … as was his bedroom. I shook my head in disbelief, and wondered what sort of party he’d had in there. It looked as if a pack of marauders had given the place a thorough going-over. Darian was nowhere to be found.

I returned to the house to write him a message, and then went back to thumbtack it to the open door. As I was doing that, I heard a car pull up to the front of the barn. Relieved, I called out his name - but a different voice than the one I was expecting hollered in reply. Darian’s good friend, Ryan, came through the barn’s large front doors, and made his way toward me with long strides. The conversation that ensued didn’t answer many questions … in fact, it only served to pile on more. Darian had made plans to meet Ryan there the night before, but hadn’t been there when Ryan showed up. The circumstances Ryan related were odd …

Darian had been working on Ryan’s truck, which sits in our yard to this day. Darian called Ryan from a store, and told him that he was in the process of picking up a brake cable, and asked Ryan to bring the brake fluid. They were supposed to meet at the barn at 10 PM. When Ryan got out of work, he went to the barn with the brake fluid, but there was no Darian … everything was wide open, things were upside down … just like it was when I saw it.

A sick, queasy feeling started rolling around in the pit of my stomach. As Ryan and I made our way out of the barn, he told me: “Don’t worry! Wherever Darian is, I’m sure it’s not a bad place.”

I replied: “Ryan, with the way Darian lives, that ‘bad place’ could happen any time.” Ryan’s eyebrows flew up, as he nodded in acknowledgment. To call Darian a risk taker … is to be mortally guilty of understatement.

We locked up the house, picked up my Mother-in-law, and ran our errands. After a nice dinner, and an otherwise pleasant afternoon, we ran back by the house to see if Darian had shown back up. Nope.

At that point, Dougie and I decided that we couldn’t leave the barn wide open, with all of the lights on. We went out there together, and started turning off the lights, as we gingerly picked our way through the disaster. As Dougie was shutting down Darian’s computer, I checked out a small box which was sitting on his bed, hoping to perhaps find a clue as to where he was. In the box was fresh food - a hamburger patty, several pieces of pie - the type you find in fancy restaurants, a loaf of bread, and a number of other ready to eat goodies. The hamburger patty was the only food item that needed cooking. It looked as if he’d brought the food in, left it on the bed, and never had a chance to eat it - or store it, although he had a little fridge in the very next room.

Fresh food on the bed, computer still running, all the lights on in the middle of the day, doors wide open … and missing an appointment he himself had made with Ryan the night before … something was wrong … badly wrong.

Fighting panic, I went back into the house and called the police. I asked if they had any information about Darian that I wouldn’t have known about (they didn’t,) and told them what I had found.

Did I want to report him as missing? No … not yet. I decided that I would wait until Monday. If he didn’t show up at court - a court we were all pretty sure he wanted to be present at - then that’s when I would report him missing.

We had a very busy week end. My childhood friend, Joanie, along with her Mum, came to spend the week end with me. Our original get together had been planned for the last week end of August, but on that Friday, Joanie had ended up in the emergency room, and had been admitted with a question of heart problems. On that Sunday morning, after a horrible night, I had been admitted through the emergency room for my own little problem. It was just one those things: our get together wasn’t meant to happen on that week end. We were both pretty wary of setting a new date, but our September 8 & 9 meeting worked out fine. On Sunday, my son, Daughter-in-law, and brand new grandbaby also came to visit … as did my Mother-in-law. It was wonderful to have them all there.

However, I couldn’t get my missing son out of my mind. A feeling of dread had settled on me like a layer of ash, dampening the joy of our little get together.

And that’s it for this installment. In the next day or so, I’ll pick up from here, and continue …

Here are some photos taken on September 9:

No, I’m not gone forever, and neither do I intend to continue only posting once a month or so …

For those who don’t know …

When we were moving home from camp this year, we were burglarized - not once, but twice! The buggers took off with everything of value that wasn’t up at camp with us … including all of our desktop computers at home. Meanwhile, between the first and second burglary, my little lap top died … so without my desktop computer waiting for me at home, I had to temporarily withdraw from school - and it was also a challenge to get online at all.

About a week ago - on the 13th, UPS pulled up to the door, and dropped off a big box for my husband. In the box was a brand new desktop computer! My son, Dougie, had bought his Dad a computer to replace the one that had been stolen. I was dumbfounded! His last day at work was that following Friday, and he was buying a computer for his Dad!

My surprises weren’t over for the day …

When he got home from work that night, he handed me a package. I opened it and found a brand new Toshiba Satellite lap top! And that’s not all he did … he had a sheet of paper in his hand on which he’d written everything he thought I would say when he gave it to me … he was right on all counts! I ran through his entire list before he handed me the paper!

I don’t really have time to blog today - since tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I’ve still got to dig out the dining room so that we will have a place to eat dinner tomorrow. We’re not really going to “do” the holidays this year, because things at home are still in such disarray … but at least I’m facing the Holidays with the knowledge that I’ll be able to continue blogging, and that I’ll be able to be back in class again in January … thanks to my son.

I think I’ll keep him … ;o)

Guess where the Moof is writing from now … !

Home? No …

Camp? No …

Waikiki? No … (but don’t I wish! ;o)

From my window, I can see … a brick wall, and a higher level of another wing of the building I’m in. The service is great here … but the food is terrible! Actually, I haven’t had any during this visit yet, so things might have improved, but I doubt it.

I’m in that same spot I was in back at the end of March … again.

Actually, I’m relieved to have been able to get here. There are two other hospitals between camp and here, and one of them, I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but the other one is OK, and it seems to be improving all the time. They even have my old nephrologist as a hospitalist there. It was a long ride from camp, though, and I considered going to one of the other hospitals, but I’m glad I came all the way here, instead.

On Saturday, late in the day, we had a tremendous storm blow through - just a hair north of us. We were told that it had nickle sized hail, winds of 70 miles an hour, and was capable of popping tornadoes without warning. Now that’s saying something, up here in Maine. Tornadoes are rare in these parts.

I was sitting on the camp porch, doing a blog run, and watching the unbelievable lightning just over the mountains on the other side of the lake. The storm was just missing us. We got the wind and the lightshow, but none of the rain or lightning strikes. The color in the sky in that direction was unreal, and I wanted to take photos, so I set out to find the camera. However I noticed with growing consternation that my gut was beginning to develop some serious cramping, and I cut my search short … since the sudden onset was rapidly becoming a bit more than allowed me to remain upright and mobile.

I’m not a lightweight with pain. I never take pain meds, with the exception of sneaking an Advil now and again when the going gets really rough. Even so, I knew that this was beyond anything I could deal with for very long. I told Doug that if it didn’t ease up, I would have to get a ride to the hospital … which is about an hour from camp.

It was Saturday night - everything always happens on a week end! I didn’t want to call my new doctor, and I really didn’t want to go to the ER on a Saturday night, either. I decided to try to hold off for the night - to see if it would pass by morning; however, after a very long and sleepless night, I was worse in the morning, and new related problems had also surfaced, one of which really scared me.

When I saw (with great relief) that the sky was beginning to lighten, I braced myself and took a quick shower. I would have to be completely unconscious to ever go to the ER without showering! *LOL* When I got out of the shower, Doug was awake, and he agreed to take me to the ER. We got there at 6:50 AM.

Here, I won’t go into as much detail, because I got there just in time to have a bit of a medical meltdown. For once, I was actually grateful to be in the ER. My only regret was that it was early Sunday morning, and I figured that I would end up with one of the new, young ER docs. It always makes me a little paranoid when the docs look younger than my kids … *blink*

To my absolute astonishment, in walked Dr. MacCauseland! He’s the same one I saw in the emergency room back in March. In spite of being in some pretty engaging pain, I started to laugh when I saw him, and commented on how I always end up with him, and how he always admits me when I do. He smiled a little sheepishly, and asked me when he had admitted me before, and I told him about the other two times; then he wanted to know why he had admitted me on those occasions, and I told him, including the fact that the time back in March had been “for nothing at all!”

Frankly, I was really relieved to see him, even if I was teasing him, and giving him a hard time. I said it back in March when I wrote about him, and I’ll say it again - he’s one of the kindest, gentlest and most attentive doctors I’ve ever seen. I can’t tell you how often I’ve wished he had gone into primary care. I have a serious issue with speaking up to medical professionals, but for some reason, it’s almost completely absent with him.

I was in the ER from about 7 AM until after 3 PM. It was a long, uncomfortable stay. At the end, Dr. MacCauseland came in and said: “Were going to send you upstairs.” I protested, although I knew he was right, and on more than one level, I was actually grateful. It was just actually hearing him say it, and experiencing that “trapped” feeling that comes with the realization. My husband joked later on and said: “What were you hoping for, anyway? A cork and some super glue?” *LOL* But seriously … three times now … my only three times in the ER since my first admission for renal failure, and each time I saw the same person, and each time he admitted me. See a pattern there, anyone? ;o)

Anyway, they admitted me, and I ended up with a little hospitalist lady from Algeria. I was placed on “strict NPO.” I was grateful, however to still be given my meds at about 2 PM … because I hadn’t been able to hold them down the night before, and had missed them that morning. I could feel my blood pressure rising, and I was a bit nervous that no would realize how important it was for me to get those meds. I was also concerned that even if I did get them, that they wouldn’t stay put. We finally did get on top of that situation though … in fact, we got on top of it so well that it’s been wayyyy too low today, and my sweet little hospitalist lady cut my Clonidine dosage down. She and I both agreed that my new PCP and I need to discuss replacing it with something else. It gives me horrendous side effects, and of the possible dosages, the lowest isn’t enough, and the next dosage up takes me off my feet. I must just be really sensitive to that particular drug - or type of drug. My other hypertension meds don’t do that to me.

Yesterday was a bit rough … and overnight was tough, although I did get some sleep - probably thanks to the Clonidine. It did make maneuvering the path between my bed and the restroom a bit challenging, though.

Today, I’ve been on clear liquids since about noon, and am doing well enough with them. Since the inception of the clear liquids, they’ve stopped my IV, so I was even able to take a quick shower! ( YES!!! ) I feel more like people now. I had a “bed head” with a really bad cockatiel crest which I was more than relieved to get rid of!

My hospitalist came in as I was writing the above paragraph, and she’s letting me go home tomorrow. I can finish recovering at camp. w00t! I have finals this week, and I wrote to my professor, asking him what to do if I were still in the hospital past the finals cut-off time, and he was kind enough to tell me that he could extend the time for a short while under the circumstances. I won’t need him to do that, now.

Before I quit, I’ve got to give all of you nurses and LNA’s out there a HUGE cheer. I swear that the sun and the moon rise and set on my nurses! They’ve been great! I want to take them all home with me. More than anything, it’s the nurses and LNA’s that make a hospital stay bearable … and they seem able to create pleasant moments for their patients, even through the roughest times. The girls I’ve had since I got here have been angels … real live angels. Although I’m going to be glad to go home, I’m going to miss my nurses!

Now, when I get back to camp, besides taking my final, I’ve a few awards I need to blog about, and a “sort of” meme from Vijay … wouldn’t ya know it! Vijay doesn’t even have to get meme’d but that he meme’s me! Would you get the idea that he’s relishing some sweet revenge? ;o)

Oh … one final thing. When I realized that I had an internet connection here, I got online and proceeded to have the following conversation over Pownce with Dr. Rob:

Dr. Rob: Dang, moof. Take care of yourself!

Moof: Well, I gave in and actually came to the ER, so I’m trying to. *LOL* What a person will go through for a blog post, eh? ;o)

Dr. Rob: Well, I say you are passionate about your work.

See what I go through for some decent Patient Blog material? ;o)