This morning, I sat in my nice warm waterbed, and made a grocery list for the next week: rutabaga, turnips, carrots, diet dressings, salad veggies … etc.. I was determined that I would spend a while taking off some of the “extra” that was making my clothes look more like body paint than I’m comfortable with. (We’ve all seen the ladies who wear spandex on wayyyy too much personal span! *cringe*)

Anyway, feeling very confident in my decision to unpack some of the recent filling … I got up to face the day with determination and a sense of purpose …

… however, the first thing I saw was the dining room table … and that photo above shows what was on it: an entire tray of donuts from one of my favorite donut shops! These donuts leave the chain donut shops looking like yesterday’s leftovers. I hadn’t had any of these wonderful donuts since I had an office in Wells, ME … which was near the wonderful restaurant that makes these little beauties.

There was a note next to the donuts, written by my son Darian; it said: “Someone needs to put these away. Have at! :o)” Images of turnips and rutabagas faded from my mind like snow in July. My only concern was which one I should eat first!

Okay … so, I’m still going to diet … but it’s just been put off for a couple of days … and will last a bit longer than it would have before today! My baaaaad!

It was nice to experience Homer Simpson’s idea of a perfect Christmas morning … even it was in the middle of June! :o)

The entire situation has left me with a very bad taste in my mouth … and among other things, has taught me that whatever is hidden in the fine print is what you want to read first … before you read the stuff that seems too good to be true (and most like is.)

Now that it’s over, I can say that I found Dr. Rutledge to be an intelligent and solicitous individual. He sounded quite genuine in his dismay at what was happening, and I do believe that the distress was not feigned. He tried very hard to explain his own personal position, and I felt as if we both had an excellent opportunity to express ourselves without holding back.

My own impression … I believe him when he says that he never set out to deceive anyone, or with the idea of selling Wellsphere. He also insisted that the entire Wellsphere company felt the same way. I believe that he might not have had those intentions himself … although I’m not quite as charitable when I think of other people in the company. On this score, I give Dr. Rutledge a “maybe” … I do believe him when he tells me about his own personal intentions, but when it comes to a blanket explanation for the entire group at Wellshere … then no, I don’t believe it.

When pressed on whether they had removed all of the material they were asked to removed, I was confused, because his initial response sounded disingenuous. He said that the material had been removed from their server … and it could well be that it was – however, Bongi mentioned that his information was still there, although he’d made the same request as the rest of us. Also, the careful wording made me wonder if he could be “Jesuitizing” … perhaps the material was removed from the server, but there might be backups someplace? Else, why would he have said that whatever someone did at a later time, without his knowledge or consent, would be out of his control? When pressed further, he told me that there were “no copies”. Could be true … at least as far he knows, and might not be, too. Sites like that generally back things up quite often. Again, on this subject, I give Dr. Rutledge a “maybe”.

Although I stressed that as long as he was associated with the people at Wellsphere, his reputation would suffer the same damage overall, he still continued to defend his own, and their, position.

I also encouraged him several times to give the public an explanation – like he was giving me over the phone, but I got the impression that they were not going to do so. That left me feeling frustrated, because all of the angry/distraught/upset ex-Wellsphere people deserve an explanation … a public explanation. Those who are still with Wellsphere deserve one too. It made me feel as if either the head honcho thought he was so clever he could just pull it off without a word, without an explanation, without an apology … but I don’t think that’s going to happen. The situation might have toned down to a general roar, but the Medical Blogosphere has a long memory … and it’s not going to completely go away. A public word could have helped in that department, depending on what was said.

Finally, my own gripe was not quite the same as most other people’s. The sale of Wellsphere and all of the angry Twitters gave me the courage to speak up. The problem is still an issue with me. As far as I can tell from a casual visit, Wellsphere is still encouraging “Mavens” to “help” people with their health questions. What is a Maven? As far as I could tell, anyone in the Medical Blogosphere whose blog they liked, and who wasn’t practicing professional medicine (not nurses, doctors, etc.)

When I joined, I was encouraged to answer questions in the “general health” community. I tried replying to things that I knew from personal experience, but my conscience bothered because I know full well that my own experience may not be another person’s … and I could do a tremendous amount of damage. Unlike WebMD, there was practically – as far as I was able to tell, no oversight of the responses Mavens were giving the public. More questions went unanswered than were dealt with by Mavens, and far fewer were fielded by physicians. And even then … practicing medicine online is a very dangerous thing to do, no matter who or what you are.

Had I followed the request I got each time a Wellshere email appeared, I would have been pushing … trying to accumulate enough “answers” (dangerous or not) to hit the magic number of 50 … at which time would be transformed into a “Top Maven”. Yet more reason for the poor ignorants who came looking for medical advice to think that I was a safe person to give it to them!

The entire scene was competitive … the more you did, the more you advanced. This is not an environment that promotes “health” … far less common sense.

Dr. Rutledge told me that it was expected that no one would do more than they were qualified to do where questions are concerned … however, when I asked him about the oversight for all of the questions, he didn’t have an answer.

I think I can guess the answer … there just weren’t enough people dealing with the situation, and at the very least, things got badly out of control. Inviting people to ask questions of the Mavens in different communities (Chronic Conditions, Mental Health, Men’s Health, Digestive System … about 25 in all in the Health section) and then not providing oversight … or direction … or review by someone in medicine … was not only dangerous, it was also criminal. Making it competitive by promotions in rank was an exacerbation of the existing condition.

And so … my take: Dr. Rutledge appears to be a very nice person to speak with over the phone. I believe him when he says that he, personally, had no intentions of ever providing more than a good, helpful site for people to frequent, but I’m not sure I believe that he really thought that all of the “Mavens” were not overstepping their bounds.

That’s a lot of trust … if it were safe to do that, then since I’m in ESRD, I should be able to give medical advice in my nephrologists’ stead, eh?

Imagine the medmal lawyers rubbing their hands together in glee!

To sum up … I don’t think this is going to go away. We may not be Twittering about it all the time anymore, but it was a painful lesson in trust for all of us. We’ve been through a lot as a community … from the injustice done to Dr. Flea, all the way to pulling together after an impostor broke our communal sense of trust. We’ve seen blog scraping, trolling by rabid, cynical medmal lawyers (anyone remember Matt? *cough) … and we’ve survived all and continued to grow.

We’re not finished yet … and we’re wiser than we were.

Anyway, a few minutes later, Doug and I were re-awoken by water dripping onto the shelf at the top of our waterbed headboard … and it was dripping long, loud, and fast! Ugh! Without thinking, I grabbed the little bucket that I always keep at the bedside, and tossed it to Doug (thank God I hadn’t had any queasy problems overnight, or he’d have gotten a real surprise!) and he quickly put it under the waterfall leak.

He wondered aloud if the pipes in the bathroom overhead had frozen … which I doubted, because they’re in the middle of the house, and although it goes below 40F (4.4C) in there, it seldom freezes.

Doug got up post-haste, threw his clothes on, and gingerly ventured out of the bedroom. Not only had the bathroom frozen, but the kitchen pipes were all frozen solid too. The sink has an irritating hot water leak which splashes all over the place, and it had also frozen, leaving the sides and bottom of the sink cased in a clear, lumpy sheet of ice. Apparently, the kitchen had gone well below freezing overnight. Brrrr!

I decided to blog about it … and that’s when I realized that I didn’t have any internet … *sigh*. Right about then the phone rang … it was my husband’s place of work putting off his return for yet one more week. He’s only worked about 4 days since two weeks before Christmas. So now he’s home until January 26 instead of the 19th.

Blog Friends, I lay back on my nice comfy waterbed and started laughing! Hey! What else can I do?

Anyway, the pipes are thawed, although I doubt I could do dishes or laundry, because those are separate from the sinks. Miraculously, nothing burst! Yay us! The wood stove has warmed things up enough so that I can’t see my breath anymore, although my hands are still cold, and I’m sure the rest of the house is still geezely uninhabitable a bit, ummm … frosty. My internet revived when the modem and router were reset … so no harm there, either. Except for an icy mess and a cold, rude awakening, we’ve had no permanent damage this time.

Anyone in a warmer climate looking for several (semi-permanent) house guests? *innocent blink*

I know that my long pauses between posts must make it seem as if I’d quit blogging … but I haven’t. In previous posts, I’ve commented that when “situations” are current, I find it difficult to blog. It’s far easier for me to write about things that happened a long time ago, and which have known outcomes. I guess it’s all part of how close you’re willing to let people come when you’re actually experiencing the situation.

Those of you who’ve been reading this blog know what happened at this time last year: my oldest son went missing, my computer died, we were burglarized twice within two weeks, I was in the hospital for almost a week due to some nasty gut problem, and my identity was stolen. That’s it in a nutshell, but nowhere near the entire scenario.

Last fall’s unpleasant events didn’t stop with the new year. Like the proverbial snowball, the issues just kept getting bigger, and picking up momentum as they rolled along. I began to write about things as they stand on several occasions, but it was always with the thought that things would eventually settle down, and that I’d be able to see at least some of the ongoing issues come to some sort of conclusion. That hasn’t happened. I find it really challenging to write about things that are ongoing … because it’s sometimes too hard to write objectively about something that you’re living every day. I didn’t want to write about what was going on, but I also couldn’t focus on casual posts while I was mired down … so I waited.

My friend maneuvering me into this position has made me do a lot of thinking. and I’ve decided that I should at least try to start writing about some of the ongoing situations. I figure that if you already know about what’s going on, there won’t be a reason for me to keep to myself and not blog, right? I will write about one of the most difficult issues in my life … if I can get that written out, then who knows what will come next … *cringe*

Okay – here goes …

Whenever I’ve blogged, I’ve been very careful about what photos you see of my home. The reason for that is that my home was here before the US became a nation, before Maine separated from Massachusetts, and before the Berwicks separated from Kittery. It’s ooooold! At one time, it was in the center of town, right near the corner church, almost directly on the main crossway. In the time since Berwick was settled, it’s gone through a lot of changes. The center of town moved three miles southwest, and became a quaint little village on the shore of the Salmon Falls river … and the old center eventually became a collection of farms, mostly dairies. This house was no exception. Doug milked cows twice daily when I met him … and he did it every single day of the year. This city girl learned a lot about farming. While I loved being in the country, being part of a working farm is another story completely. Culture shock hardly begins to describe it …

The first years here were a challenge. My father-in-law was born in 1914, in what became Doug’s and my bedroom. When I moved in with my three children – and one soon to come – I was shocked to see that the house was stock full of someone else’s belongings. Since we were only supposed to be there temporarily (until we built our own house somewhere on Doug’s parents’ vast expanse of fields and forest) I was asked to not bother the stuff that didn’t belong to us. All but three of the rooms, not counting the bathroom, were full of stuff … some all the way to the ceiling. Every cupboard, every closet (both of them), every little nook and cranny, had the abandoned belongings of people who died long before I married Doug. As the years went by, and it became apparent that we were not going to be leaving the farm any time in the foreseeable future, I got permission to open up the rooms in the rest of the house; our family of six needed room to finally be able to settle in. We put loads and loads of old furniture, knickknacks, cooking utensils, a foot powered Singer, dishes, rugs … on and on … into the attic, and slowly, over a number of years, we got control of the entire house.

Well, control might be too strong of a word, and might leave you with a false impression. It’s never been a comfortable place, my adult kids swear it’s haunted, and the disasters we’ve had in here, mostly due to the age of the house, and the poor repair it was in, are more than enough for several lifetimes. We were treated to everything from burst pipes (almost yearly), to rats falling through the ceiling on to my face in the dead of night (at least 4 times) … to parts of the house slowly caving in … ad nauseam … it was an absolute nightmare.

Twenty-nine years later … we’re still here.

I won’t go into a lot of detail about the house itself, except to say that I never tell local people where I live. Just imagine a house that’s well over 300 years old, which has had almost no maintenance in about 50 years, and you might begin to get the right impression …

Heating this 10 room monster is practically impossible. About 15 years ago, I translated a book from French into English for a Canadian company, and with the money I made, we bought a new furnace. The old one was a menace … it would make loud, rumbling “BOOMS”, covering everything in the house with soot with each new blast. The new one ran a lot quieter, and also kept us a little bit warmer … with the accent on “little”.

The problem with this old house is that when you heat, you’re heating the outside. This house is so leaky that it’s hard to keep a candle lit. The new furnace did it’s best, but we were still very cold in here. Snow that came in through the cracks didn’t melt on the floor. I thought it was a terrible thing ….

… until 4 years ago. Our oil furnace was costing us over four hundred dollars for three weeks’ worth of oil. There was no way that we could continue to fork over that kind of money. Four years ago at about Christmas time, we shut down the furnace, and it’s been turned off ever since. The first year without the furnace, we had 1 kerosene space heater. The only way to get warm was to get right up against it – and burn on one side while freezing on the other. The second year, my friend Joanie gave us another kerosene heater, and that year we had two of them going. They didn’t do much overall, but we could go stand in front of them to warm up. Last year, we discovered that the reason Doug was so sick every winter was because of the fumes being given off by the kerosene heaters. We turned them off permanently.

About then, my oldest son acquired a wood stove from a friend who was getting rid of his, and with a lot of shifting things around, he installed it in the kitchen. It’s nowhere near adequate, even for just the downstairs, but when someone actually gets it going, the kitchen becomes quite warm, so we have one room we can take refuge in. The wood stove also has a lot of downsides: it frequently won’t get going, needs constant attention, is messy as the dickens, etc., but it’s much better than nothing at all.

We’re going into our fourth winter of not having central heat. The bathroom is often in the 40’s as a high … (try to take a shower in that!) … and sometimes it’s too cold to stick my hands out from under the covers to type.

But … there’s light at the end of the tunnel, after 29 years …

My oldest son is slowly, but surely, converting the old cow barn into a home. Once it’s done, it will be a dream house … and best of all … it will be warm! We have to laugh whenever we realize that moving into the barn is going to be a step up for us!

This is not the entire story, but it is a start. To not give anyone eyestrain, I will stop at this point, and share some pertinent photos. As the barn turns into a house, I would like to share the transformation with you. Now that you know that I live in the Munsters’ mansion, I no longer have a reason to be careful to not mention it.

So – there’s at least one reason that will never again prevent me from blogging …

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)

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.

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:

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)

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)

But … I have an excuse a reason …

I booted up my computer, good and early. I was going to get right in there, and attack my schoolwork with a vengeance. Networking is such an interesting subject! I just couldn’t wait to get into it!

The road to a warm area is said to be paved with good intentions … I just added a mile’s worth of asphalt today!

But I can explain how it all happened! It was Vijay’s fault …

I decided that it would be OK to check my email before I headed into the classroom … and when I did, I got a super email from Vijay! It had all sorts of neat photos from India. I was mesmerized! Of course, I had to write back and thank him … and while I was at it, I had to comment on his poor lap top, which he’d just gotten repaired after a misadventure with a hyperactive coffee cup.

Of course, he wrote back to me, and aimed me at the post he’d made about the poor little computer, and of course, I had to go and read it.

While I was reading it, I noticed something at the bottom of his post that I’d never noticed before …

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Like any other normal nerdy person, I asked myself: “Hmmmm … now what is that?”

Of course, I had to go take a quick peek … and not for the first time, I was so impressed with one of Vijay’s nice toys, that I just had to get one for myself. That meant going to my blog, getting into my WordPress so that I could get the sweet little plug-in installed!

Well, when I got to my admin panel, the first thing I saw was a bunch of incoming links. Of course, I had to check those out. (Come on now! You don’t expect me to not snoop when someone is talking about me someplace, eh?)

Fat Doctor and Patient Anonymous were the top links … and they had both awarded me with the Schmoozer Award! Double whammy!

Here’s a description of the award which I hijacked from Fat Doctor, and which she hijacked from Lois Grebowski:

“As it goes, schmoozing is the natural ability “to converse casually, especially in order to gain an advantage or make a social connection.” Good schmoozers effortlessly weave their way in and out of the blogosphere, leaving friendly trails and smiles, happily making new friends along the way. They don’t limit their visits to only the rich and successful, but spend some time to say hello to new blogs as well. They are the ones who engage others in meaningful conversations, refusing to let it end at a mere hello – all the while fostering a sense of closeness and friendship…. [...]”

So I’m a Schmooze!!! w00t! I want to thank both of you for thinking of me! That’s definitely one I’ll have to add to my resume! I can think of a few people to pass it on to myself … Vijay (who’s indirectly responsible for my even finding out I was a schmooze to begin with!) … Pattie (when she gets back home from RI) … JMB (whom I’d love to sit and have a loooong chat with!) … Wandering Visitor (who is a sweet, deep and wise lady!) … Ipanema (that one goes without saying! *LOL*) … Chrysalis Angel (a kind, gentle spirit, spreading love wherever she goes) and Dr. Schwab (who has an amazingly addictive blog!) There are a lot of others I could put down, including a few who’ve already been schmoozled! (Cathy! ;o)

Okay … now, where was I? Oooh yeah! I got Schmoozled while I was checking out my incoming links, before installing my plug in, which I was going to do, quick-like, before doing my school work. On to the next link …

The next incoming link was from the Curmudgeon … and in a 400th post “link fest”, he said something so sweet that I’m thinking of putting it in my sidebar:

All Blogged Up: A Moof’s Tale — As near as I can tell, Moof is kind of a Den Mother for the entire Blogosphere….

I really like that! I think you’re pretty neat too, Curmudgeon! :o)

After I finally stopped strutting all over the house, crowing about my new title – schmoozing den mother for the entire blogosphere – I got down to business, and installed that neat plug in.

With all of my little side trips done, I finally headed back over to my classroom …

Just about then, Doug hollered from the other room that there was a real snappy looking storm heading right for us. I dutifully dropped what I was doing, and he and I headed out the door to bring in all of my potted herbs before they got drowned by a gully washer.

That took a few minutes, because as you’ll see in a later post, I have a load of them! With the herbs safely tucked away in the living room, I headed back into my classroom. Just then, the storm hit with a ferocity that took me aback!

I quickly unplugged my lap top, and none too soon – the lightning was pretty snappy. Before I could put my attention back on my work, the power went out – and the internet connection went with it.

Ayuh. No school work.

We hunkered down while it lasted. Once it began to ease up, I convinced Doug to go “power hunting.” I wanted to see just how widespread the power outage was. We went for a long way before we saw any houses that had lights on … and as we surveyed the areas we went through, we could easily see why that was so. We saw several trees which had been hit by lightning, and were split right in half. One of them had come to rest on some poor family’s roof. Several areas we went through looked strange to me at first – the trees reminded me of springtime, when the leaves are really tiny. It took me a minute to realize that the leaves looked “tiny” because they were shredded to little bitty bits. The streets underneath the trees looked as if they were coated in green confetti. Apparently … there’d been some serious hail in those areas.

Before we lost power, an Emergency Emails Network email warned about quarter sized hail, and winds in excess of 70 MPH. They weren’t kidding.

The power didn’t come back on until about 9 PM; it had been out over 6 hours.

Well, I finally did get into my classroom, and posted to my classroom threads … however, I still have all of my networking labs to do, last week’s reading to catch up on, and this week’s reading to do …

And now, before I quit … a bit of news.

My mom-in-law is home, and feeling better, however she’s still having some serious ups and downs. She called here at 3 AM two nights ago – her blood sugar was in the 30’s. Doug heard the phone ringing, and ran up to the house to make sure she was OK. It’s going to be a bit before things are balanced out, but now that she actually knows what to do for herself, she at least stands a chance of getting on top of things.

Yesterday, Dougie, Magnus and I drove down to Connecticut to see my daughter. She’s still on TPN, and is fighting some sort of raging infection. The antibiotics aren’t getting on top of it, and if they treat her Crohn’s, it will hamper her immune system even further. She’s a very, very sick young woman.

Some people asked for an address to send her a card:

Deneen Jardstam
5 Osprey Dr.
Groton, CT 0630

And now … I’m heading off to dreamland. I’ve been working on this post for hours! It’s 1:30 in the morning!

I’m going to try to blog again on Tuesday late in the day, or early on Wednesday … with a surprise … :o)

See you then!

Lightning Photo credit