Time Heals

When I first came home from the hospital, I was out of sorts. I was sad and in pain and not at all myself. I'd cry because Len would have to take care of my every need. I was humiliated by my lack of independence. He kept telling me that I just needed to wait things out and I'd be better and he was right.

I feel like my old self again. I'm sleeping in my own bed again. I need Len for fewer and fewer of my daily activities. I'm relatively pain free. And, I'm anxious to get back to work.

I just need to get out of this wheelchair.

Tomorrow, I see my orthopedic surgeon again for x-rays and an exam. Considering how well I'm doing, I believe physical therapy will begin then and I'll be learning to walk with a walker or crutches or something. I might finally get out of this blasted chair!

In anticipation of my getting out of said chair, I have ramped up my interest in a new vehicle. Len and I went to a Toyota dealer Sunday. They had sold all their Prius models, but had Camry Hybrids and Highlander Hybrids. Len was quite taken with the Highlander. Great gas mileage for an SUV, loads of room for hounds and accompanying hound stuff, and not too large (for an SUV). The Highlander Hybrid gets better gas mileage than our Saab wagon. Lots to think about...

No Time in the Pokey

Yesterday afternoon was my court date. Apparently since I was unable to accept my ticket at the scene of the accident, I had to appear in person in court to accept my fate. Len hired a lawyer to represent me because I was still unable to appear at the first scheduled date. The lawyer was there to postpone it a month for me. He was also there yesterday for me.

As I have explained before, I was going the wrong way in one of those lanes that change direction of travel. I was confused and paid a hefty price for it. Anyway, I was cited for improper lane change. I planned to plead guilty and pay the fine.

But, no, Mark Gaffney the lawyer said, let's see how this plays out. Turns out the judge was one of Mr. Gaffney's law professors back in the day. Then, the "victim" (wasn't that ME?) never showed up, and the case was dismissed. Whoa! No fine, no record, no inflated insurance rates? Hurrah! Best part is, my time began at 5 p.m. and we were in the car by 5:11. Who knew Atlanta traffic court was so efficient?

The Invalid Invalid

I often joke with Len that I feel like an invalid (as in not valid) invalid. But, it's really not funny.

As a person in a wheelchair, however temporarily, I observe the actions of the people around me -- how they interact, what they do -- and I must say I am appalled that folks don't have more compassion or understanding when it comes to the handicapped.

I get stares from grown people who should know better. I know what they are thinking when they see me: "She's so young, I wonder how it happened. That poor woman." Etc. Truth is, people see me and other injured folks as a reminder that anything can happen, and it frightens them. I know because I have felt that way.

Innappropriate stares from the able-bodied isn't where it stops. To add insult to injury, life for the handicapped is a thousand times more difficult because very little accommodates their needs.

I recently went to a nearby fabric store to purchase a couple items for a project. The giant glass doors were not automatic, so I had to push them to get in. I made it, though, and I placed a basket on my lap and began to shop. I got stuck in an aisle and items protruding from the shelves nudged my basket to the floor and everything spilled out. No one was around to help, so I struggled to get the items from the floor. I paid and backed my chair to the door to push out when a young man walking by outside saw me and opened the door for me. (Very nice!)

I will begin physical therapy next week, and there is a facility just two blocks from my house. I thought it would be great to just wheel down for the therapy, but nixed the idea when I saw that the sidewalks in between are not built with the mini-ramps needed at the intersections. That, and the fact the sidewalks are very uneven means I'll have to be driven to sessions. Two blocks.

I can't reach the top shelf of my refrigerator. I can barely wash my hands in the sink because it's too high. I am using the smallest wheelchair available for adults and I only just fit through the doorways in my house.

This weekend, Len and I went with some friends to the annual Decatur Arts Festival. Half of the booths were in the grass and poor Len pushed me hard to get me through. At one point we had to turn and go all the way around a line of booths that we had just passed because there were steps at the end. We had to go back to where we started just to get out.

There were loads of people there and when some people saw me they pushed through in front of me -- like I was a city bus that no one wanted to sit behind in traffic. By rudely pushing through ahead of me, they saved themselves a good two seconds. At one point I said loudly, "Don't mind the woman in the wheelchair. She doesn't matter."

Come on, people. Life is difficult enough for the disabled. Why make it more difficult? My legs don't work right, but otherwise I'm exactly like everyone else. I matter.

I'll be out of this chair soon, thankfully, and I will again join the ranks of the able-bodied. But, I won't push ahead of the wheelchair-bound, and I won't avoid their eyes. Instead, I'll smile as they pass. Just like I would any other human being.

I am not a drug addict!

Okay, so I've been taking some pretty serious narcotics for pain since returning from the hospital, including oxycodone and such. But about a week ago I decided to do only over the counter painkillers and tried Aleve, which worked for the most part. Last night though, I fell asleep before taking my nighttime dose. And this morning, I passed altogether on the pills. I have not had pain medication of any kind since 7 a.m. yesterday. I feel some discomfort, but not enough to do anything about it. I'll take the occasional pill when I expect a particularly arduous day. Point is, I was on heavy narcotics for eight weeks and I'm glad to be free of 'em.

One more box to check off in my recuperation plan.

Nerve News

I went to see a neurologist this morning. Dr. Mishu was very personable and likable -- Dr. Furie has a lot less personality. I went to find out what kind of damage had been done to my nerves in my left leg and foot. I have a condition called "foot drop" which means I can't raise my left foot. I also a good bit of tingling and numbness in that foot. Sometimes I have pain, too.

Dr. Mishu and his nice nurse practitioner asked a lot of questions and poked at me for a while. Then Dr.Mishu did an electric current-type test to see if he could stimulate my foot. He explained to me that a nerve is a lot like a copper electrical wire that is wrapped in plastic coating. A nerve has a coating as well. If the coating is not damaged, but the nerve inside is, there is the chance for the nerve to grow back through the coating. If the coating is severed, then thing become much more complicated.

The damaged nerve is called the peroneal and is located on the back of my knee and down the outside of my calf and into my foot. The electric impulses to the back of my knee did, indeed, stimulate my foot and spontaneously my toes rose up. That means the coating around the damaged nerve is intact, meaning the nerve can grow back. He also believes there is not damage to my sciatic nerve.

HURRAH!!!!

This will take time, he further explained, because nerves grow at a rate of about 1 millimeter per day, or about a centimeter every 10 days, or about an inch a month. I have no idea how much damage there is, so I don't know how long it will take for the nerve to reconnect to itself.

But, I don't really care. I had resigned myself to living with a limp for the rest of my life. So this is fantastic news!

Dog Pile

Four dog beds. Maggie lays on three. Daisy, Devon, and Scully share the fourth.

Sunday Afternoon Adventures

What a lovely day it is here in Atlanta, Georgia. There's not a cloud in the sky, it's 80 degrees and there is a nice breeze. I know all this because Len and I went out today. I showered and put on clothes and Len wheeled me out to the car.
We drove past my accident site on Dekalb Avenue (I didn't get upset because seeing it did not trigger a single memory!). The accident happened in a different spot than I'd imagined, and with all the construction going on, I didn't really recognize it anymore. One less thing for me to fear!
Then, we went to Oakhurst to the Universal Joint for sandwiches for lunch. We sat outside under a shade tree and it was lovely. Across the street from the restaurant, we saw several people in wheelchairs gather from different directions. It was like a MeetUp group! I didn't join in... they seemed a lot more mobile than I am. Besides, I only belong to the group on a temporary basis.
After lunch we came home and each took a nap.
Not a bad way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Pain Management

I'm taking weaker painkillers these days and fewer of them, so I am beginning to feel a good bit more discomfort in places that were pain-free before. Understandably, it freaks me out when I feel a new ache in my right hip, since that caused so much trouble in the hospital. Yesterday, I was rubbing on my right sit bone (you cyclists out there know what that is) and comparing to to my left. I felt the tip of it move! Oh, my God! I was going to have to go back to the hospital! I tearfully asked Len to check it out, and he said,"That's your fat moving around, Megan." So I re-checked and sure enough, it was no bone fragment, it was fat.

I gotta chill out.

I'm getting a little stir-crazy not being able to get up and go whenever I want, so I seem to be focusing on my aches and pains and what they might mean. I think that's making Len a little crazy because he's having to talk me down several times a day.

So, today I finished reading "The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs," and started knitting again for the first time in several days. I wish I could sit outside to knit because it's such a lovely day, but I can't seem to stay in the chair long enough to make going outside worth my while. I do open the front door and sit for a while each day. I say hello to neighborhood joggers as they pass and dog walkers.

Can You Ever Have Too Much Information?

Since I've been laid up with only the internet as my connection to the outside world, I've been researching my injuries and what the doctors did during surgeries and what I can expect in the future. In particular, I found this interesting interactive video that allows the user to be the doctor during a hip replacement surgery, something I expect to have in the next several months. Thing is, I have a lot of hardware in that hip and chances are I won't be able to use it without a lot of pain. And, even if I don't have pain when I go to walk on it in a few weeks, chances are I'll develop arthritis there fairly soon. Hip replacement surgery has been shown to very successfully eliminate arthritis pain and the folks who have it tend to start using a walker the day after their surgery. So, I'm not terribly concerned after all about the likelihood that I'll need the surgery.

I also found out that people who suffer the kind of injury that I have to my knee, a tibial plateau level 5 fracture, tend to develop arthritis there because of the damage to the cartilage and the bone. It's not clear to me yet whether a knee replacement will remedy arthritis pain caused by that kind of fracture, however. More research...

Good Times...

It's been a great, but painful, weekend here at Injury Central. Lots of important progress was made these last few days, but with that activity comes a lot of soreness. No pain, no gain.

I showered for the first time since the accident on Friday, and it was a wonderful thing. Sunday, I put on real clothing, pants, shirt, undergarments, the whole nine. Len took me out for a stroll around the neighborhood, too. The circuit is made up of slight inclines and declines, so Len did all the work. I was just there for the ride. The sun and breeze did me a lot of good. At one point, though, we hit a huge bump in the sidewalk that nearly knocked me out of the chair, and caused me great pelvis pain. It stayed with me until well into the night last night, but this morning I'm good.

Scully is home again (THANKS Suzy and Clark for everything!!!). She stepped on my sore foot once or twice, but she's really being gentle around me. In the three nights since she's been back, she has slept in the dog bed next to my sofa. Every now and again she'll try to get up on the sofa, but she's actually listening to me when I say "no." She's a good girl.

I think I overdid the activity, though, and was sore all weekend. I have several restrictions on moving my left leg: Don't cross over the other leg, don't bend more than 90 degrees, etc. With all the transferring from chair to sofa to chair I did, I'm sure I came close to violating once or twice, so I need to be very careful. Today, I'm taking things easy and see where that gets me.

WARNING! Graphic Images Follow!

Now that Scully is home and my family is intact again, I thought it was time to reflect on the injury in pictures. Some of these are hard to view, so consider yourselves warned.

Len took this first picture on my cellphone at the emergency room on March 26, 2007, just hours after my accident. Note I am still in the neck brace and sandwich boards. Frankly, I think I look dead. Thank goodness looks can be deceiving.



Next, here I am in the Intensive Care Unit in the first few days after my accident. Notice the traction stuff? That leads me to the next picture, a close up of the rod they put through my left femur to stabilize my leg. Connected to the rod is the traction system, pulled down by weights at the end of my bed. After my first pelvis surgery, when the nurses accidentally dropped me while transferring me to the potty and re-dislocated my pelvis, the doctors had to add a second set of traction. But this time they went through my tibia, below my knee, because they had already used my femur.

When I was moved to a regular room, I had a lovely view of Atlanta. I don't see it in this picture, but from my room I could see my downtown office building. The other thing you don't see here is the helicopter pad, just outside my window. Since Atlanta Medical Center is a category 2 trauma center, there is a lot of helicopter traffic there, to bring in injured souls. The view was lovely, but the noise could be pretty distracting at times.

After I was in the hospital about a week, bruises started to appear all over me. To illustrate, here is the bruised underside of my arm. I didn't feel pain from the bruising, but the pain may have been masked by the mass amount of painkillers I was taking. Both arms were bruised like this and I had several mysterious bruises on my legs and even hands. Never saw a thing on my neck or face, though. Helmets rule!

Finally, and this is probably the grossest image, this picture of the side of my butt was taken just before the staples were removed from my hip.
This was just a couple weeks ago, just after I returned home. Those first few days were hard physically because I was taking smaller doses of painkillers. They were hard mentally because I really thought that as soon as I returned home I'd be better.

I'm still not there, but I will be.

The wound there is about a foot long and still causes me problems. The scar on my knee looks a lot like this one, just no staples and not quite as long.

Ooffph.


Finally, here I am in my own bed just after I returned from the hospital.

Now, that these pictures are up for the world to view, I can just log on to see how far I've progressed.

Splish Splash!

I took a shower today. And, I feel better than James Brown!

Len moved a sofa and arranged a wheelchair ramp so that I could get to the bigger bathroom with the big shower stall today. He put my plastic bench half in and half out. It was a little awkward at first, but I managed to get from the chair to the bench and slid inside the shower. Hot water running through my hair. Knowing I rinsed all the soap out. Exfoliating my face. You can't imagine how wonderful it feels to be truly clean again!

Plus, now that Len's exams are over, he bought a lawn mower and took care of our front and back lawns yesterday. Today, he's been cleaning the inside of the house, removing as much dog hair as possible. And, best of all, Suzy and Clark are coming today to bring Scully home. It will be wonderful to see Suzy and Clark! I can't wait! I just worry my girl Scully won't remember me!

Chubby

As I sit here on my living room sofa, with an overweight italian greyhound resting next to me, I think about how fortunate I am in this life. I may be laid up with severely broken bones and unable to go outside when I'd like, but I have folks coming by to check on me all the time. Through the aftermath of this accident, I have found that a lot of people love me and are willing to take the time to attend to my needs during this healing period. It's pretty humbling, really, to learn how genuinely kind and considerate the people around you can be. It's been a wonderful lesson.

One thing people are always willing to do in a crisis is provide food. Len and I will not go hungry as long as I'm injured. Casseroles, soups, meatloaf, cakes and candy, and gift cards to local restaurants have poured in since I returned home. I'm worried that my fabulous weight loss will turn to weight gain by the time I can walk on my own!

So, I've been exercising more and really trying to do more on my own. I spent an awful lot of time in the wheel chair yesterday and did the bulk of transferring without help and just did a good deal of moving without assistance. When I went to bed last night I felt like I'd been working in the fields all day. I was exhausted!

Len is taking his last final today and after that, he has two weeks before starting his summer internship. Hurrah! Some time to hang with Len! And Scully, the crazy dog who likes to jump, is likely to come home this weekend. Hurray! Can't wait to hug that girl!

Changes to TFB

I've been wanting to upgrade these pages for a while and never got around to it. The green was a little too, well, green. I like the simple look, and I hope you zillions of readers out there do, too.

Status Update
It's been a couple of wonderful days here at Injury Central. I've been spending a lot more time in an upright position and doing a lot more exercises. My mobility has really improved, my pain has decreased, and I generally feel like I've crossed over some midpoint and am starting the climb to the top of Health Mountain.

Now that my staples are out and my draining has almost stopped, I'm planning my first shower in six weeks. Oh. My. Gosh. I can't wait! Friday or Saturday will be the big day. Once I've had a shower, I might even put on pants!

Just to clarify, I have been bathing, with a basin and wash cloths. So I am clean (ish).

I officially started back to work on Monday and have already had some meetings and started editing some stories. Not sure if I'm really ready, but I'm stir-crazy and really need to do some brain work. If it's too much, I'll say so. Wish me luck!

That new car smell...

I talked to my brother John the other day. He's leaving for Qatar on Monday -- he lives there most of the time. He had a terrible motorcycle accident several years ago that left a big giant pin in his leg and didn't ride again until last year. I completely understand. While I still love the idea of the scooter lifestyle, I'm a little gun shy about not having walls around me when I drive around town. So, I need a car.

In keeping with the scooter theme of not using a lot of gasoline, I'm pretty intrigued by the Toyota Prius, which gets 60 miles per gallon. The Prius is automatic, which is a plus now that my legs are injured, and has a nice hatchback compartment that can carry at least a few of my dogs.

Still, the Mini is a car I've loved for years and it gets 35 mpg, not as great as the Prius, but still good. I've also looked at the Honda Fit. It's cheap, cheap, cheap and gets great gas mileage. The science fiction Scion xB is pretty cool, too, but I'm afraid it's too similar to an SUV, which I just don't like.

I'm doing my research now and once I'm up and about I will do test drives. Something really fun to look forward to!

There's Nothing To Win...

Taco Bell's new commercials on their "Fourth Meal" concept: How many time do you think their marketing team watched The Lord of the Rings before coming up with that one? A little herb, second breakfast...

TV is so boring. I try not to turn it on until at least 8 p.m., and then I'm lulled to sleep by all the same shows. I've got to start walking soon, or this TV lifestyle will make me crazy. Funny thing is, TV didn't seem so boring before my accident.

ZZZzzzzzzz

I sleep ALL THE TIME now. It is practically routine: I wake up in the morning, bathe with my wash rag, move to the sofa, check e-mail, and fall asleep until around 11 a.m. Then, I surf the internet until lunchtime, eat, and then take an after lunch nap. After that, I think about sending e-mail (occasionally I actually manage to send something), read a bit of something until I fall asleep. Then, It's dinnertime. I hope all this rest is good for bone mending, because I'm certainly not doing anything else productive!

Len has been studying Contracts today, preparing for his exam tomorrow. Taking care of me this week has cut into his normal study time for this test, but I have great confidence he'll do well in spite of my unintentional interference.

My First Trip Out Since the Hospital

We went to the Doctor today for my first follow-up appointment. It was good to get outside and see the world. It was also good to spend a lot of time in the wheelchair. Yeah, my foot swelled and it hurt, but I got used to it. I'm going to try and spend a couple hours in the chair every day now. Maybe have dinner at the dinner table with Len like the old days... it could make a big difference in how I feel about my injury prison/sofa.

Dr. Furie's office was a disappointment, to say the least. Very disorganized and kinda junky. Len pointed out that it appeared no one ever took out the trash. It wasn't dirty, but it wasn't at all what I expected, either.

So, first the receptionist took me back and removed the bandage from my pelvis. She was going to remove my staples, but since I'm still draining a bit she wanted the doctor to look at the wound first. In the meantime, she left me there with my would uncovered and draining, while she went on about her business. As careful as Len was about cleanliness when he changed my bandage each night, I knew he was horrified by the apparent lack of concern over germs shown by the receptionist. Did I mention she was the receptionist?

Dr. Furie came in a bit later and checked on things and then started pulling out staples! I am now officially staple free! Then I had x-rays done and the right knee is great, exactly as hoped. The left pelvis has a LOT of hardware in it. Both Len and I were startled. Dr. Furie basically said there is a very strong chance I'll have arthritis in my hip and that I'll need a replacement sometime. Sure, there is a chance I won't, but I think he truly believes I will. So, I'll just prepare myself for it and hopefully be pleasantly surprised that I don't need another surgery.

I see him again in a month -- when I hope to start putting weight on the right leg. Woohoo!

Sickly or infirm

Okay, so is it completely obvious that I am a house-bound invalid? There was a time, not so long ago, that I couldn't bring myself to write in my blog more than once per week. Now, I see that I blog every single day (and then some!). Hope I'm not boring anyone out there too much with my sickly person ramblings.

Today is my wedding anniversary. It's been 19 years that Len and I have been legally attached to each other. Gasp all you want, we really are that old. I think I speak for us both when I say that we are very happy together and look forward to many more years of marital bliss. But, I've been a little sad today, because my fancy watch (10th anniversary gift from Len) and my wedding ring (15th anniversary) were damaged pretty badly in the accident. The watch still works -- we'll get a new band and have the watch part serviced -- but the ring is destroyed. The main diamond fell out in the accident (Len went back to the scene to look for it, but was unable to find it). Then, in the hospitql, when my hand was so swollen, the rest of the ring had to be cut off my finger. We still have the carcass, so maybe we can have it melted down to a new ring or something. I try not to think I'm that into the symbol of the thing, but the fact is I am. I loved my ring and what it represented, and I am truly sorry I no longer have it.

Today also marks five weeks since my accident. A few more weeks from now and I'll be in physical therapy, re-learning to walk. Every Monday is one week closer to normal.

Len is here at home, taking a final exam today. He downloaded the exam at 9 a.m. and will upload his answers by 5p.m. Ain't technology grand? I'm just sitting quietly on the living room sofa, blogging, knitting, and reading, while he is fulfilling his academic obligations. Cool.

Foot Cream Anyone?

Since my stay in the hospital, my feet have become absolutely grotesque. Not sure why the bottoms of my feet are all dried up, but if anyone has a suggestion for an intense foot moisturizing cream, I'd be open to it.

Comfort Zone

My ass hurts.

I don't mean to be so vulgar, but the fact is, my ass hurts.

I remember talking to my doctor the morning after the third surgery on my left pelvis, telling him how sore a particular spot was, when he pointed to his own rear end and asked if that's where it hurt. Yes, I said. He said simply,"Yes, well, we spent an awful lot of time there."

It still hurts there. Luckily, though, it seems most of my other pains are gone. My right knee is feeling pretty solid, and the incisions themselves aren't painful. My left foot is still numbish and tingly (or sparkly, as I described the sensation to Dr. Furie), but otherwise the real pain is isolated to my left hip. It's a deep, constant ache, and considering they spent several hours in there over the course of three surgeries, it seems only right that it still hurts.

Love in My Tummy

The first insurance statement came today regarding Dr.Furie's bills. Dr. Furie is my orthopedic surgeon and performed four surgeries on my legs. It's a hard statement to understand because it says things like "ineligible amount" and "approved amount" but since it also says "Member responsibility $0.00" after each of the four surgeries, I'm feeling reasonably confident that so far we don't owe anything. Whew! I believe the only bills we have left is from the hospital itself and my trauma doc, and for any follow-up care and those should covered, too. We'll have a deductible, for sure, but otherwise I think we are set. After years of hearing terrible stories about insurances not paying for things, I'm grateful that it seems I won't have similar troubles (knock on wood).

I was thinking recently about that old helmet I bought on eBay but never used because it was improperly advertised as DOT approved. Thank goodness I wasn't wearing that flimsy thing the day of my crash. I doubt anybody'd be reading my blog if I had been. It was cute, but not something that could protect my head in case of a real impact. I have a friend at work who rides a Harley with a non-approved helmet. I'm going to have a talk with him.

Shakes and fries

When I was in the hospital, I made a point to tell every new nurse and patient care person I met how important their job was and how much I appreciated their efforts. It takes a really special person to be a caregiver like that and I feel each and every one of those people contributed to my recovery in some important way. They checked my condition, medicated me, bathed me, counseled me when I was down, and seemed genuinely happy for me when I was released. Nursing is so much more than a job. It's a part of who those people are. Thanks again, 5th floor nursing staff at Atlanta Medical Center.

On my last day, I asked Lou, one of my Patient Care Associates (PCA) how long people generally stay. She replied they had just released someone that week who had been there three months. He was sent to a nursing home, where he'll live out his life. He was hit by a car while on his bicycle and the car's driver was never caught. He was in his 30s. Lou then told me a crazy story about her friend whose foot was broken when a car swerved around her at a stop sign. The car's tires ran over her foot. Think how close that car had to be to her!

I asked another nurse if she had ever been hospitalized and she had in 2000 after a serious car accident resulted in serious internal injuries. She spent six months at Atlanta Medical Center and was so inspired by the experience, went on to nursing school and now works for the same hospital where she spent all those months recovering.

Eddie was one of my night nurses. He came in one night to find me sitting at the edge of my bed, trying to get to a chair in the room. Instead of hollering at me for such stupid behavior, he actually helped me to the chair. Then he and that night's PCA changed my bed sheets and rearranged some things to make me more comfortable. He was one of my favorite nurses.

Patients can be pretty unruly I imagine. All those drugs I was on really made me wacky, that's sure.

Non Sequitur
I haven't had coffee since March 26 and I don't yet miss it. I've had some caffeinated beverages, like a Coke-cola or the like, but not many. And since Len makes my food, it is generally dressed more in the way he prefers, like no sugar or Splenda in cereal, etc., so I haven't even had sugar or substitutes for weeks. I'm not drinking enough water -- trying to cut back on bathroom breaks, frankly, but as soon as I can do the bathroom on my own I'll cause a drought.

Doggles
I try not to think about Scully because I'll miss her too much. I know she is having a nice extended visit with her cousins and that she is very well cared for, so that is enough for now. But I really do miss that crazy dog. Devon reminds me every day why she isn't here, though. He never fails to jump on a particularly sensitive spot and cause me great pain. At 13 lbs, that's something I can handle. But now that Scully is tipping the scales at 66.5 lbs, she'd send me back to the hospital if she did that to me!

Thanks, Suzy and Clark, for taking her in. It means so much that you've done that for us.

Step by Step, Inch by Inch

I can't seem to regulate my body temperature, I'm always roasting. Or cold. Or hot in one spot, cold in another. I guess this must be what menopause is like. Thank you, but no. Hot hands and cold arms are not fun!

I've been out of the hospital a full week as of today, and I'm feeling better each day. My wrists are really getting tired and achy since I use my arms so much to maneuver around, though. My scabs are disappearing (I don't even want to think about where they may have gone) and nearly all the bruising is gone. My next big milestone, I think, is getting the staples removed from my hip and getting to have a real shower. Using washcloths has worked fairly well, but it's just not the same. I dream about clean water running freely over my face!

Re-Connecting

Here in the South, a good deal of stock is put in the Lord and how He works, so a lot of folks have been telling me that He has bigger plans for me and that I should be looking at the positives that have and will come out of this accident. I'm not a religious person, but I do agree that it's really important to look at the positives in everything. Dwelling on the negatives only gets me down and I could use some happy thoughts. So here goes...
Hopefully, I'll become more patient. I do have a tendency to think, "When this or that happens, life will be so much better." So, living in the moment will be good for me.
I've learned that Len is a wonderful caregiver. He needs some lessons on proper foot rubs, but otherwise he's outstanding and I couldn't ask for a better nurse.
After having strangers poking at me for the last several weeks, I've become much less body modest. Doubt I'll ever be an exotic dancer, but maybe I'll enjoy going to the beach more. I've got hundreds of staple scars on my legs. people will notice those before my cellulite.
Folks I haven't talked to in ages have been calling to wish me well in my recovery. How nice is that!?!? I've missed my old friends and this has helped re-connect us!
I'll be much more observant of my surroundings. I won't miss those turns and I'll live more carefully. I don't want to lose my fearlessness, so I'll just say I'll be more careful.

Daytime TV Sucks

I've really been slow to readjust to life at home since returning from the hospital. I've been in a lot of pain and have been having anxiety over the accident and what it's done to me. Feeling pretty sorry for myself. Not cool, I know, but there it is.

Today is the first day I've felt so-called normal in a while. I've still got pain, and my left foot is swelling so much I still can't use the wheel chair, so I'm stuck on the sofa with my feet propped up on pillows. But, my spirits are high and I'm finally seeing that this is a temporary problem that I simply need to overcome. My old, happy self is beginning to reemerge.

Len showed me what was left of my old scooter key this morning and I freaked out a little bit. I really need to wait to view the artifacts of the accident until after I'm walking, I think. I'm still too close to it, I guess. I really didn't expect the emotional stuff I've been feeling: Nightmares, anxiety, fear, over-dependence on Len. Oh, and I can't bear to watch hospital dramas on TV. Actually, any kind of violence on TV throws me into a fearful frame of mind. I'm surprised about this, but I'll get over it eventually. In the meantime, I just need to heal.

My calve muscles are completely atrophied so I need to continue losing weight or I'll break my legs all over again when I try to walk again! I have no idea how much weight I've lost since I can't stand on a scale, but the pictures Len took throughout this ordeal show a clearly dwindling Megan. Like my friend, Kitty, said to me in the hospital: At least I'll get something good out of this accident!

Some people have asked that I explain what happened and where I stand today, so here goes:

On March 26, a little after 5p.m., I was on my scooter on my way to Target to pick up a package of my favorite underwear (sorry if that's too much information) before going to my second job at the best yarn store in the South, Knitch, when I missed my turn onto Rocky Ford Road and in an instant made a terrible mistake and ran head-on into an SUV. Scooter vs. SUV: SUV won. Both Len and I think the SUV driver and I tried to avoid the collision and the SUV clipped my left hip, likely breaking my pelvis, and knocking me off the bike. The SUV and driver were unhurt, thankfully. A doctor and a nurse stopped to help and the nurse found my cell and called "home" from the accident scene and I actually spoke to Len from the wreckage (of course I don't remember it). Len caught up with me at the emergency room at Atlanta Medical Center where I was still attached to the sandwich boards and neck brace yelling that I was hit by an SUV, why wasn't anyone helping me. Thankfully, they administered painkillers early and I have no recollection of this verbal rampage.

I spent 3 1/2 weeks in the hospital: Underwent one knee surgery to repair my right tibia just under my knee; three surgeries on my left pelvis to rebuild what was left; and a small surgery to prevent strokes and other unfortunate things during my stay in the hospital. My left foot has what is called "foot drop," which means I can't lift my toes or ankle, and I wear an extraordinarily heavy boot on that foot to prevent permanent damage to my heal cord. When I am walking again, the doctors believe I'll regain control over that foot. I do exercises all the time to help re-teach my toes to lift, but have had no luck so far. If, when I go to stand in 4-6 weeks and I still feel pain in my left hip, they'll do a full-on hip replacement. Cross your fingers, toes, eyelids, whatever that I don't need more surgery!

I'm still not comfortable with the gory details of the accident and not just ready to publish the series of pictures. They are pretty hard to view, so when I do get to publishing those images, I'll make a big note at the top of the page.

I'm tired now, so I'll come back to this in a day or two. I do actually have a few really funny stories I'd like to share, it wasn't all bad.

I'm Home!

I returned home last night and it's great to be here. I still in a fair amount of pain and not really up to writing in the blog, but will do the best I can.

Thank you to everyone who visited and sent flowers and other forms of well-wishing. I can't tell you how important you all are to me. It meant so much to hear from you all.

Buh Bye

It looks like Megan may be coming home tomorrow. How can I tell? She only has two toilets in her room. It's been fun blogging for her, but like a responsible adult she'll take away the keys, and luckily before I drove the Porsche into the pool.

I ordered a fancy portable wheelchair ramp that still has not arrived, so I had to build a temporary wheelchair ramp today. Hey Fred, I hate Lowes too, but where else do you buy wood? I have no time for dumbassory.

Devon's been crying himself to sleep every night without Megan. He'll be happy when she returns. Megan will not be happy, I think he put on a pound while she was away. She is so proud of his key.

Outside

Megan is getting better every day. She's off the pain pump now. Yesterday her family from Tallahassee visited, and today her brothers John and Frank wheeled her outside in a wheelcahir. That was her first time outside in three weeks, so she enjoyed it, and luckily it was nice weather here in the morning. I saw her doctor today. He is understandably hesitant to predict when Megan's confinement will end, but he seemed to think it will be soon.

This week I had some weird parking deck encounters. Tuesday night I helped a woman who looked like she fell down the stairs get to her car. She had a big tear in her pant leg and hurt her ankle. I suggested to her companions that they take her back to the ER, rather than come back tomorrow, but they left anyway. And today as I was leaving, a guy who looked kind of stoned asked me if the the hospital would look at someone who didn't have any ID. I told him give it a try, they probably won't turn away anyone without at least a quick look to determine how seriously you are hurt. The woman in the back seat looked like she was in pain, I hope she's OK.

Has anyone ever seen the evening parking deck woman not talking on the phone?

Dewey Beats Truman!

And my previous headline wasn't very good either. Megan had a long surgery today, she didn't get wheeled back to her room until almost midnight. She had a stray bone fragment and a screw in the wrong place, and then she got some more metal. Her surgeon thinks this is the last one though.

Megan about burst into tears when she realized what time it was. She said "F*@%, I missed Lost again." If you happen to have the last three episodes of Lost on DVD I think she would appreciate you loaning them to her.

Surgery Complete

Megan was wheeled back into her room last night about 7pm. Surgery went well, the Frankenstein traction pin is out of her leg. She was pretty doped up last night. Her doctor said the hip rebuilding went well, she has some more metal in there now.

It was a really busy day there, lots of crashes, so Megan was lower on the OR list. There was some really bad crash last night, three helicopters came in in less than an hour while I was waiting.

Easter Bunny Gone Wild

Megan waited all day yesterday for her turn in the operating room. There was a lot of trauma in front of her, helicopters landing all day. Holidays can be crazy, whether it is the Easter Bunny on a shooting spree or a family feud over the last slice of ham.

In the recovery room Megan was parked near a guy who was fresh out of another operating room. He was getting cranky about having to pee. One of the nurses was calming him down, another nurse said "he was like that the last time he was shot."

Pin Up

Megan's leg is back in place. She has several breaks in her pelvis, and several pieces. The two main pins that hold it together are OK, but the plate that held the smaller pieces together came undone, then her leg slipped out of its joint. Today she had the leg put back in place and stabilized with traction including a big bar through her leg again. Tomorrow afternoon it is back to OR to put in another plate to help the one already there. She'll probably be in the hospital all week.

Second Time Around

Megan's hip came out of place. She went to the ICU tonight to have it popped back in. That did not work, so Sunday morning she is going to OR to try again, where she has better anesthesia so a better chance of success. There is some chance it will not work and she will have surgery tomorrow. Either way, she will have the pin through her leg again for traction, then another hip surgery for more hardware later this week. It looks like another week in the hospital.

Suzy and Clark are here this weekend to take Scully away. Megan does not need that crazy dog jumping up on her until she recovers. I hope that Scully doesn't teach Chloe and Bonnie any bad tricks while she's there.

Coming Home?

Megan thinks she has met all the requirements for her release. She has not seen her doctor yet, but she may be coming home tomorrow.

Wheels Of Fire

I saw Megan in a wheelchair today for the first time. She's looking good and hurting less. She has a set of objectives she must perform before they will release her, but I don't know what they are. She ought to be back to knitting in no time.

Don't Trust a Woman On Drugs

At least that's what Megan said tonight. She's out of surgery and looking good. She was hurting a lot, but maybe it wasn't so bad ( well, easy for me to say, huh?). She said the pain was 4 (out of 10), and in the emergency room last week it was 8, so that is surely better. With surgery out of the way, it is all recovery. Before surgery she was able to get in a wheelchair. It may be a few days until she's in a wheelchair again, but she'll be back. She claims she's a certified wheelchair instructor.

Out Of Bed

Megan just called to tell me that she got out of bed last night (with assistance of course) and sat in a chair. She sounds pretty good. She said she might have surgery today, but I'm not counting on it.

Next Surgery

Is scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. Megan is looking less swollen today, but still bruised.

Fear and Loathing In Atlanta

Megan had a change in medication today, going from the pump to a solid oral dosage. It takes about a half an hour for the drugs to kick in, then she's channeling Hunter S. Thompson. There are bugs on the wall, whippet-sized alligators in her bed, and I'm wearing a penguin suit. The doctor is in.

Be Careful Out There

Megan is looking better tonight. Still no word on the knee surgery.

If you go to visit, be very, very careful on Boulevard. The street was repaved this week, so it is a good, dark black, and it has no lane markings. I do not know how many lanes are supposed to be there, and I'm not the only one. I see the remains of a crash every time I'm there. Coming from the east, I drive on Highland, and that's OK.

Room With a View

Megan is out of ICU, and is now in room 545. Visiting hours are 9am to 9pm.

She has a great view of the Atlanta skyline and the helicopter landing pad.

Surgery Update

I just returned home. Megan returned from surgery about 6pm. I saw her briefly, then they put her back in ICU. While I was in the waiting room I chatted with my co-waiter. His wife was in a car crash Wednesday, and expected to go home Monday, which was good for them. The guys in the Porche that hit her were not so good, they are at Grady and really messed up. It could be worse. Then he told me how he was carjacked ten years ago and shot twice in the back. It can be even worse.

So Megan is in a world of pain today following hip surgery. Her blood pressure was too low to get a full dose of pain meds, but once she gets rehydrated she'll be back on the horse. I think tomorrow she'll be doing better. No news on the knee though.

The SAAB is back with a new fuel pump. Staci, thanks for the ride! Clark, thanks for the offer!

Guest Blogger

Hey there, Len here. I hacked this site so I can post updates on Megan's hospital stay, and to create a forum where you can discuss visiting Megan while she is in the hospital. She will not be able to read this until she gets out of the hospital.

First, thanks to everyone who has called or visited. We appreciate it.

We all ask, what happened? Megan does not remember anything but the grill of an SUV. She was on her scooter traveling west on DeKalb Avenue Monday about 5pm, where four lanes are funneled to three including a reversible lane in the middle. She was stuck in the middle and collided with the truck. She is very lucky to be alive, and with only broken bones as her injuries. Yes, they are serious breaks, her hip and her knee, but it could have been much worse. Her helmet took a beating, but that's why you wear one.

I'm not going to post much more about her injuries because she wants to blog about it when she gets out. And with pictures, so be aware.

Megan is at the Atlanta Medical Center, which seems to be a pretty good trauma hospital. She will probably be there two weeks, and I'll bet she is out of ICU this weekend. Visiting hours are frequent but short, at 10:30, 12:30, 2:30, 5:00, and 8:30, and last only 15 minutes.

She's having surgery right now on her hip. She may even have it on her knee. Her knee has been too swollen to cut open.

I'm doing OK and except for one thing have home and the dogs under control. The Uber-generous Staci loaned me her brand new (and beautiful) Honda Civic last night after our SAAB broke down again. I'm going to need a ride to SAAB to pick up my car. And don't tell Megan about the car problem, she does not need to know.

Marketing My Birthday

It pays to tell people weeks and months in advance that your birthday is coming up. Nobody forgets! This has been a fabulous week for me! My friends took me out on Tuesday evening for fun and libations. Cards from old friends, new friends, and family have been streaming in all week. Little gifts have been left on my desk in my office. Folks have been taking me to lunch. Today is the big day, and I'm the queen!

I'm forty and fabulous!

Famous people who share their birth date with me include:
William Shatner
Reese Witherspoon
Andrew Lloyd Webber
Stephen Sondheim
Karl Malden
Louis L'Amour
Chico Marx

My horoscope for today is:
Aries, born on March 22
The months ahead are likely to begin with a wonderfully unexpected surprise. This is most likely to be of a romantic nature, but may also relate to your very close family. Towards the end of the summer you will need to make sure that you have plenty of free time, as somebody close to you is going to suggest some kind of major trip that will be an adventure you won’t want to miss. The end of the year will be a time for relaxing with relatives and you will find that you make contact with members of the family who have been absent from your life for some time. This will all lead up to a celebration that you will remember for many months in the future.


Today's Chinese Proverb:
"Patience is wisdom in waiting."

Cuter than a Puppy

This is my niece, Emily, after just having caught a fish in the pond behind her house. She's the cutest thing on the planet. She'll probably be trouble later on because she'll figure out that she can away with anything if she bats her eyes just right. Her big sister, Laura, is a soon-to-be-15-year-old knockout. My brother certainly has good genes... why'd he get 'em all?

Getting old...Or not!

I have less than a week left of my 30s.
Yep, this time next week, I'll be in my fifth decade of life.
How did this happen? I blinked, and suddenly I can't stay up past midnight.

After my first Saturday at Knitch, I really thought I'd made a mistake because I felt SOOO tired. Not in the normal "boy, it'd be nice to go to bed" sort of tired, but the falling-asleep-while-pouring-a-beer kinda tired.

But, since then, I've had two more days at Knitch, and my second Saturday is tomorrow. I'm kinda energized now about the job. I love working retail and would do it exclusively if I didn't have a mortgage. And cable. And four doggles...

It has been great fun, because I get to see the new yarns as they come in and be the first to touch the yarns and imagine what can be made from the yarns. The yarns... the yarns... the yarns...

Anyway, once I realized I'm not too old for the job, that I can handle the standing and climbing stairs and sitting on the floor, etc. (even though my manager is half my age), I feel a lot better about leaving my thirties for a new decade.

Look out 40, here I come!

Moonlighting

I finally took the plunge this week, and started working at Knitch, the best yarn store in the South. Monday was my first day, and I straightened piles of yarn and put labels on balls of Patagonia chunky cotton, all the while imagining what I'd buy with my earnings! I haven't spent a lot at Knitch, mostly because my budget is too small. But now I'll have mad money for the yarns of my dreams.

Habu is a Japanese yarn company that produces some truly unusual stuff, like stainless steel wrapped in silk and paper yarns that are actually washable and yarns made of pineapple leaves. Knitch is one of the few stores in the Southeast that carries the brand. I'm really interested in the paper stuff, so I have to come up with a suitable project.

I'll work Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Thursday, I get to learn to run the register! Woohoo!

Media Gone Wild

I don't normally post things like this, but a friend in Augusta, Georgia, sent a link to me to a U-Tube video of the Augusta TV news that was priceless. Apparently, they did a story on the new low-cal Krispy Kreme donuts and used a graphic off the internet. No one noticed the graphic was, well, graphic, before airing the picture. Now, I know this could be a hoax, but I checked on Snopes and it wasn't there. It's really funny and, if true, an excellent example of why we need editors (me!) in this world.

Lunch and Learn: Knitting and Crochet

Now, even though I'm an avid (rabid?) knitter, I rarely write about my favorite pasttime in these pages. But, I recently began teaching a group of people in my office how to knit during lunch hour on Tuesdays, and it has been a great experience for me. After teaching them the basic knit and purl stitch, each person in the group knitted up a square and my crocheting co-worker joined the squares together and crocheted a lovely edging that integrated grosgrain ribbon along the edge. The purpose? We gave the masterpiece to yet another co-worker when he adopted his new son. The result? A group of fiber-inspired people who are now wishing they could quit their jobs and knit all day!

Last week, the crochet master Linda D. taught us all how to crochet. Our first project will be a beret! I jumped ahead a bit and I've been making granny squares for a blanket for myself. I'm a wild woman!

Don't miss out

In Memorium
On old college friend of mine died of cancer last week. He was only 36 years old. Jeff Tarkington was a TV producer for the History Channel and CMT and others, and by all accounts was very successful, he even won an Emmy. I found all this out because the other day I decided to say hello to an old friend from those days, and he told me about Jeff. Timing is everything, I guess. Anyway, Jeff was funny as hell, handsome, and smart. He was also a slutty homosexual man who used to tell me I was a gay man trapped in a woman's body. I never really understood what he meant by that, but it was funny at the time. His friend, Beverly Keel, wrote a column about him (just past the part about Keith Urban) if you are interested in reading more.

There but for the grace...

My company CEO lives in Kentucky on a lovely horse farm. He spends his weekdays in a company-rented apartment in a building right across the street from our downtown Atlanta offices. As a result of his time spent there, he began noticing the large number of homeless people in downtown Atlanta. He's a very nice man, in spite of being the boss, and the problem really bothered him. So, he asked our staff to form a group to help combat the homelessness problem in the area. The fact that he's been less-than-supportive of the efforts since starting the group is another story that I don't care to get into. In any case, I joined the group.

We've done some pretty wonderful things in the four months as a "task force." For Thanksgiving, the office sponsored two underprivileged families and donated food and grocery store gift cards so that they could enjoy a special meal for the holiday. We sponsored the same two families for Christmas, and delivered an abundance of gifts for the kids that included a small television and coats and other needed clothing items as well as toys and cleaning supplies for the grandmothers who are caring for the kids.

A few weeks ago, we brought in a couple representatives from the Atlanta Homelessness Task Force to present a "lunch and learn" session to the staff so that we all can better understand what is happening in our city. That was truly eye-opening. According to HUD, a family must have a household income of $30,000/year to be able to afford the average two-bedroom apartment in Atlanta. The fact is, though, that 48 percent of Atlanta's children live in homes with less than $15,000 annual income. It makes it pretty difficult to "rise up" from your condition when you are spending all your income on housing.

One of the representatives from that Task Force was actually a man in the program. He told us his story of how he became homeless a little over a year ago and what the group is doing to help him get back on his feet. He said he never dreamed he'd be homeless. He had a job, but it paid week-to-week, and when the company when out of business suddenly, he was left with nothing. And, in Georgia, a landlord has the right to kick you out just seven days after rent is due. (I worked for a law firm in Michigan several years ago that dealt with landlord/tenant issues and there it took 90 days to evict someone.) He found the Task Force through his church. When asked about his experience, he said the biggest surprise was that more than half the residents of his shelter had jobs.

There is so much more to this story that I won't go into now. But, suffice to say, homelessness is a very different problem than most people think it is.

One cause of homelessness is drug and alcohol addiction. I don't want to go into whether or not it is someone's fault that they are addicted, because we all know someone with addiction problems. Food, nicotine, booze, whatever. The point is that for some people the addiction causes them to lose everything: money, job, family, dignity.

Some of those people have made it to a place in Atlanta called Samaritan House. This group helps people with addictions, anger issues, etc. deal with their problems while they try to get back into the world. One off-shoot of the group is a cafe that serves homeless men and women lunch through the week and is open to the general public on weekends for brunch.

A few days ago, several of us from my office volunteered at the cafe. We prepared the food, waited on the folks who came in, and bused our tables and cleaned up after lunch was over. It was a great experience. And really strange. Some of the people looked the part: They were a bit disheveled and generally looked in need of assistance in life. Others looked like they could be my neighbors. It was sobering, to be sure.

I know how fortunate I am in this life. I have a wonderful family and am able to make a decent living, and I have time for hobbies and reading and blogging. But, sometimes I think of how stupid people are when they are young and how easily I could have made a devastating decision early on. My life would be a lot different than it is today. I doubt I'd be homeless, but so did the man who came to speak from the Atlanta Homelessness Task Force. Scary stuff.

Anti-climax

Another Christmas has come and gone and I'm now mentally gearing up to return to work at the office. Blech.

Actually, I am very fortunate in my work situation. I have a lot of flexibility and tons of responsibility. When I do well, everyone thinks to say so and when I do not so well, they keep their mouths shut. It's a pleasant place to be, mostly. But, I'm just not into it right now. I want a few weeks off. Then maybe a few more. Ah, the post-holidays doldrums.

I'm tearing down the Greymas tree, as Len likes to call it, today. By nightfall, there will be no more reminders of the Christmas that was in this house. At least I'll have a little more room to move around. Decorations take up a lot of space, and I had to move big pieces of furniture around to make room for the tree and its accoutrement.

Len is on a bike ride to Rockmart today. One hundred miles on a December day: The joys of living in Georgia, where the sun shines bright and the high for today is expected to be 61 degrees.

Yesterday, Scully killed a squirrel in our back yard: A gift, I believe, for our guests, Betsy, Doug, and their hounds. She almost brought the writhing creature into the house, but I stopped her in time. The poor thing kicked upside down for a bit on the back deck before coming to its final rest. To add insult to injury, Len placed the little thing carefully into the poop bag just before the garbage guys picked up the week's load. Nice.

This weekend, we're heading back to Helen to enjoy another family holiday at Clark and Suzy's cabin. I look forward to it, but I also don't want the lazy days to end, and New Year's definitely marks the end of my days of sleeping until 9:30 a.m. Such is life.

Clean Dogs and Broken Bones

I try to bathe my hounds at least once a month -- more often if they encounter something stinky. Today was bath day for the greyhounds, since we'll be visiting family next weekend and we want everyone to be shiny clean. Maggie can get pretty darned stinky, but now she bathed and brushed and is the definition of gorgeousness. I know that at her next meal she'll get gunk all over the fur around her mouth again, but we'll try to keep that to a minimum this week. Right, Maggie?

Len broke his left pinky toe this week. How? By walking through the house. He stubbed the toe and broke it in three places. Poor guy. Not much they do except push it in the right direction and tape it there so it heals straight. This is his first broken bone. I have never officially broken a bone. I may have broken my big toe about twenty five years ago, when my dad slammed a door on my foot. The toe swelled up, turned blue and it was pretty painful, but I never had it x-rayed. It seems that -- other than our toes -- Len and I have pretty strong bones.

Holiday Cheer Begins Early

Every year when I put up my Christmas tree I cry. I cry for all the loved ones I've lost and for all the wonderful people and animals still in my life. I cry for happiness and sadness, but mostly for all my good fortune.

In a way, my tree is a reflection of my life. I never forget the friend or family member who gave me an ornament or the person or animal or life event that is represented by an ornament. When I travel, I try to buy one from any new place I've been. My many dogs are represented by them. This is why I cry.

Every year, I have a tangible reminder of my life.

The tricycle ornament my brother Pat gave me a few years before he died: I cry both because I love him and because he's gone. The glass dog playing the drums that I found in Maine reminds me of the best vacation I've ever taken. The snowflakes made by Len's Grandma, Anna, mean so much more now that she's gone. Long forgotten former co-workers who gave me ornaments as gifts are remembered again.

I'm having some girl friends over tomorrow and thought I'd put up my decorations -- if only because it's December and I'm entertaining. I rarely do this so early in the season, but after last Christmas was so blue for me, I'm glad to start the happy season this year. So, I'm feeling a little sappy today.

I think it's going to be a nice holiday.

SAFF: The Anticipation Is Killing Me!

I leave for the Southeast Animal Fiber Fair on Thursday this week. This will be my first visit to Asheville, NC, and my first time at the fair. I cannot wait! I'll be hanging out with sheep and llamas and alpacas for three days, learning new-to-me techniques like spindling and needle felting, and trying to limit myself to just a few new hand spun, hand dyed luscious yarns. I'm about to bust!

My friend Linda and her friend (I haven't met her) Ruth and I will be staying at some funky log cabin hotel and we are each responsible for a breakfast. I've seen what they are planning and let me just say I'll be eating breakfast this weekend. Blueberry pancakes with apple sausages and fresh juices and that sort of goodness. Me? My breakfast will be homemade muffins, probably whole wheat banana walnut, because I like muffins, and I really don't want to spend too much time at the cabin cooking when I could be at the fair!

It's also leaf season in Asheville, so I suspect we will be enjoying the fall color extravaganza!

I'll take some pics of my new alpaca friends to post on my return.

I'm getting old...

Did I ever mention the time when a man on MARTA asked if the project I was knitting was for my granddaughter? That was a shocker. I know it's true there are SOME 39-year-old women who have grandchildren. But, I vainly thought that no one would think that of me just to look at me. Clearly I was wrong.

I told him no, that the sweater was for me and kicked him in the nuts -- then I boarded the northbound train. The nerve of some people.

I knit every day, but lately I find myself thinking about knitting more. I was at a wedding last weekend in Centennial Park downtown and a woman I know wore a very cool kimono-inspired dress. My first thought was, "I need to make that kimono-inspired sweater pattern I have." First, though, I have to finish Len's college-boy sweater, my crazy lace shawl, the dog sweater for Devon with only one sleeve left, the fabulous alpaca arrows and cables sweater for me, and about 6 socks to complete 6 pair. Oh, and finish finishing the 4 almost-there sweaters I found when I finally cleared the guest room of the moving boxes. Then, there's the felting projects I have half done. Too much to do!

We have another wedding to attend next week. This one will be a very traditional Catholic affair with all the trappings. Stand up, sit down, stand up again... at least there will be an open bar.

I'm crankier every day. Where did this come from?

Visiting Hours Are Open!

After six months as a storage closet, our guest bedroom is now a comfortable haven for weary travelers. At last!

I've been putting that project off for months, because I was a little overwhelmed with the floor-to-ceiling boxes we had stacked in that room. Where would they go? I bought curtains and rods and paint months ago. so everything was set. Except me.

Saturday morning, I played computer games until I was bored in an effort to put off the inevitable. Finally, I relented and asked Len to help me move the boxes into the living room. Emptying the room turned out to be pretty quick and painless. Then, I realized I had no roller -- so, without benefit of a shower and in my painting clothes I trucked off to Home Depot with a list of needs. I even had them cut 1x8 boards to lay under the box spring in the guest bed. That bed is an old iron jobby that is slightly wider than today's mattress sets. Without any support, the box was beginning to sag.

When I finally arrived home and got started, it was nearly 2 p.m. I really, really didn't want to paint. I started with that iron bed and spray painted it in the back yard with a flat black paint, covering the white with gold trim from previous decor. It looks really cool. I let it dry while I painted that darned room.

It had been so long, I'd forgotten what color paint I'd bought, so by process of elimination, I figured out which can hadn't yet been opened and used that paint. It's an old-fashioned green, like old Jadite glass. After painting, I ripped up the carpet and took it outside, where Len will deal with it while I'm traveling this week. The floor is pretty disappointing, just like the floor in our bedroom. A previous resident of this house glued carpet straight onto the hardwoods in those two rooms. Maybe we'll get the floors taken care of during Len's Christmas vacation.

I brought in the new bed and found the boxes of bedding and installed the new curtain rods and curtains. and viola! we have accommodations! Just in time, too. Suzy and Clark are coming next weekend to ride 6-gap with Len. Whew!

The best news is that I eliminated 4 of the biggest boxes with the bedding. Len just has to figure out a place for his hundreds of record albums and bike parts and everything will have a place!

Tomorrow morning at 6 a.m., I'll for NYC for two days. Hopefully I'll come home to a nice neat living room! Len, are you reading this?

It's Always Something...

As I type this, Miss Daisy is with Len and the Vet School in Athens. I hope the Great Oz (the cardiologist who never steps out from behind his sonogram machine) is giving her a clean bill of health and Len no longer has to truck her out there each week. Besides, she doesn't much like being poked and prodded at by vet school students. She seems to be doing great, though. Sweet little thing.

I'm back on MARTA after the summer of riding my scooter to work. Everyone in my office loves my new hairstyle, sans helmet head. Me, too. Plus, I get a lot of knitting done on the train anyway. I've been working on this lace project for some time. After, oh, eleven or so attempts, I'm getting pretty frustrated with the thing. I am more determined to complete it, since I've spent so much energy on it already. I'll miss a stitch and because the yarn is so delicate and fuzzy (lace weight alpaca) I can't just find the mistake and start from there. I pretty much have to pull the damned thing out and start over every time. There HAS to be a better way.

I finally brought something home from the pottery that I like. It's a nice bowl that I glazed in sky blue. It came out kind of an olive green with sky blue streaks. When I saw it on the shelf, I picked it up, wondering who made it so I could ask how they did it -- and the bowl was mine! Cool! It's awfully thick and heavy though. More practice...

Patsy Coleman, Rest in Peace

My aunt Patsy died on Saturday of Lou Gehrig's Disease, ALS.

Patsy was a lot of things: a mother, a wife, a housewife, a rape victim, a psychic, and a bit of a nutjob. When I was a kid, I thought she was the coolest person alive.

She and my mother were pretty close when I was a young child, and I remember her family coming to visit us a lot and our family going to visit hers a lot. Mom and Patsy and I would go for weekend trips -- just us girls -- where they would smoke and gossip and connive about the family and the world and I'd listen in. To my young ears, theirs were the most interesting conversations I'd ever heard. That's how I learned about my family history. It was during those conversations that I learned how my sister Paula was my half sister and that her mother died giving birth to her and her twin, who also died during the birth. I learned about my mother's first husband and the father of my sister Sunny and brother Patrick (Skeeter). We went to the grave site of my mother's first love. I believe his name was Bill and he died relatively young, maybe 40. I doubt my mom even remembers that I was there with her on all those trips. I just quietly tagged along because I thought those two women together were fascinating.

In fact, I can see a lot of parallels between their relationship and my own relationships with my women friends.

When I was around 8 years old, Patsy started talking a lot about reincarnation and psychic powers -- as in, she claimed she had them. And, she'd give me and mom readings and I swear I believed every word she uttered. I still remember her teaching me how to gather positive energy with my hands. My father was pretty sick at the time, and slept with an oxygen tank next to his bed. For years, I'd go into his bedroom at night after he fell asleep and gather all the positive energy I could and push it toward him. I thought I was helping him and in some way it made me feel good. I was so grateful she tought me how to do something for him.

Patsy came to visit us once unexpectedly and there was always a cloud of secrecy over that trip. She'd been injured and mom told us Patsy had been mugged. I was an adult before I realized she'd been raped and came to mom for support and comfort. That's still a topic my mom doesn't discuss.

We eventually moved too far away from Patsy to continue to visit so often, and she and my mom lost touch and never again were as close.

The last time I saw Patsy was in Ann Arbor Michigan. She and mom came to visit not long after Len and I got married. We were living in the rented green house on Fifth Street then, and they only stayed the night. She looked great and they were both happy.

About six months ago, mom told me about the ALS. I always meant to call or write Patsy, but never got around to it. Now she's gone.

I don't believe in reincarnation and the afterlife or psychic powers anymore, but I know you still did, Patsy. If I'm wrong and you can get this message, I've missed you, Aunt Patsy. Whether you knew it or not, you were a huge influence in my life.

Rest in peace, you crazy woman.

Prancing for Dinner

Daisy was a death's door two weeks ago. Now she prances for her dinner. She twirls, she barks her sad little soundless bark. She's a whole new whippet. The drugs have helped and we've been feeding her salt-free food and snacks. I even made her some chicken and brown rice (which Len thought was so good that he took it for lunch one day). She went back to the cardiologist yesterday, and her heart is smaller and she is generally on the mend.

I really thought I'd be making an urn for her at the pottery studio.

I'm glad that instead of an urn, I'm still working on the dinnerware. So far, I've made two bowls to completion. My tests have been good so far, and I've actually begun making the dishes now. The process takes weeks, because I have to wait for drying between stages and it's been particularly rainy here in Atlanta/Decatur -- when the weather is dry, drying is much faster.

So, I have the dishes designed in my head, but I still don't have the skill yet to execute the design exactly. Gotta learn more about glazing and the different clays. It's coming along. My job has been taking up a lot of my time these days (deadlines all hit at the same time -- yep, I missed one) and I haven't spent as much time as I'd like at the studio. After Labor Day, I'll be back to going several times a week instead of just 2. The studio is closed over the holiday weekend, so I'm hoping to have the energy to paint that last room.

Heartache

It's been a pretty traumatic week here in Decatur.

It all started last week when Daisy hurt her back and was clearly in a lot of pain. Len took her to the vet and she was tested and probed and prodded and after a day or so on the medicine the vet gave her, she seemed much better.

Monday morning I commented to Len that Daisy ate everything in her bowl and a big treat after -- a sure sign she was all better. But, that was the last meal she ate until Thursday. She was clearly uncomfortable and lethargic and could barely stand on her own. We'd never seen her like that and we were very worried. So, we returned to the vet, who was afraid to treat her for the wrong thing, so we took Daisy to the UGA Vet School in Athens for further testing and an ultrasound.

Yesterday, we met with her Cardiologist. She has always had a heart murmur, but it had never really bothered her until now. Turns out her heart is very enlarged and her valves aren't pumping all her blood and fluid in the right direction. She was very close to heart failure and she was close to drowning in her own fluid when we took her to have the ultrasound.

Last week's back pain was probably not back pain at all, but symptoms of this heart illness manifesting as what appeared to be back pain.

She is now on more medications than my mother (!) and we are to make sure she has no physical activity beyond getting up to eat and to go outside to do her business. Today, she's nearly back to her old self. Prognosis isn't really great for Miss Daisy. She is, after all, 14 years old. So our job is to make her comfortable and happy for the rest of her time with us. Shouldn't be too hard.

She's on the sofa now, where she's been resting all day.

Step One: Center the Clay

Like most 18-year-old dumbasses, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life when I started college. I had this teenage fantasy about becoming a working artist one day, so I began my college career as an "art major." I took painting and drawing and art history courses along with the basic required academics I needed to graduate, but found I truly *enjoyed* the pottery classes. A couple years passed and I got married (really, really young, but to the fabulously handsome and brilliant and good-natured Len, so it was a good long-term decision!) and we moved to Michigan, where I finished college. My first day on campus, I joined the newspaper staff on a whim, and the rest is history. I finished college with a journalism degree and experience as the editor of my college paper and as a stringer for the local papers. I have enjoyed a long and fulfilling career as a magazine editor.

Many summers, I took pottery classes offered through local continuing education services, but found those classes weren't giving me what I really needed: Time. Two hours a week for six or so weeks never got me anywhere. I don't think I actually finished a single project. I even looked into buying a kiln and all the ingredients, but couldn't justify the expense, when the fact was I had no real working experience.

Once we settled here in Decatur, I started looking around for pottery classes and found Mudfire Pottery. It is a potter's co-op, where you join and pay a monthly fee and they supply the rest. There are several people on staff, "rangers" they call them, who are there to assist when you need assistance, guide when you need guidance, and leave you alone when you need to be left alone. Pretty cool. I go there three or four times a week and work for a few hours and already I have improved my skills beyond where those summer classes ever took me.

Since Len and I no longer have dishes (we got rid of the Fiestaware just prior to our move from Seattle back to Atlanta) my first big project will be a set of dinnerware for us. Mugs, bowls and plates. I figure once I successfully complete a set of simple dinnerware, my skills will allow me to work on more ambitious projects like large pieces, and then move on to slab work. It's very exciting for me, like I'm fulfilling a life-long dream or something. It feels pretty good.

Now, has all this work with clay caused me to drop my knitting needles? Not at all. Currently, I have a cardigan, socks, a lace shawl, and a soon-to-be-felted bag on the needles -- and I work on these projects every day. Wow. Just call me Ms. Producer!

Helmut Redux

I've decided to return the helmet for a refund of the purchase price and eat the $40 in shipping.

The seller from Korea is not going to be happy he didn't return my shipping fees, though, because I will do whatever I can to get him banned from eBay -- or at least give him some grief. He claims he makes only $10 per helmut and that he has sold hundreds of them and mine is the first complaint. Not true. His most recent negative feedback is from a helmut buyer who expected the helmut to be wrapped in leather -- as stated in the ad. Faux leather is what he meant to say, apparently. Faux DOT approved is probably what he wanted to say in my ad.

He actually responded to my complaint by saying it was "nonsense." I was boiling.

I'll show him nonsense.

Buyer Beware

eBay is a wonderful place to find some pretty fabulous things. But, folks can really get ripped off on eBay.

Remember that adorable pink helmet I bought a couple weeks ago? It arrived.

I wouldn't feel safe wearing it while riding my bike on the Silver Comet Trail, let alone riding my scooter 40 mph down Ponce de Leon. It's flimsy, uncomfortable and too light to meet U.S. DOT requirements for helmets. Besides, to meet the requirements, a manufacturer must submit a sample helmet and, if the design meets the requirements, a sticker is issued for each helmet the company sells of that design.

This helmet does not even have a fake sticker attached. The seller outright lied in his ad. I sent him a message about it and received no response. So, I did something I've never had to do in the nearly 10 years I've been trading on eBay: Open a dispute.

So far, a file has been opened and an official e-mail has been sent to the seller. I'll keep you posted on how the process progresses.

Exposed!

It never occured to me that people would actually read my blog. My own mother doesn't bother to read it, and some friends have said their eyes just glazed over when I began writing about knitting socks. So, I figured only Len's folks and close family bothered.

Turns out I was wrong. And it freaked me out a little bit!

I went to my weekly knitting group last night (our first meeting in Kim's new store, Knitch!), and a couple of the ladies mentioned they actually read this thing. I was touched, and then a little nervous. Have I written something I'd regret them seeing? Do I sound like an idiot? They know I write for a living: Do they think I'm a sucky writer? Geez. I felt, well, exposed.

But then I thought to myself, "why even have a blog if I worry about what people who read it might think?" That's the point, right? You throw out your own thoughts for the world to see and 'tough' if they don't like you or what you have to say.

So go on, knit girls, read away. I'm actually flattered. Where can I find your blogs?

Daisy Eats Devon!

Yeah, like the little guy would allow that.

I was bored with the old look, so I made some changes to TFB. If Len can change his blog, then I can change mine.


I've been trying not to call Jackie this week about a couple italian greyhounds she has in "stock." Sergio and Prince Iggy Hop both have problems with their legs and need medical attention. The last thing we need is another Devon, but this bleeding heart of mine is making the little guys hard to resist. Maybe Len and I can just go to Macon this weekend and make a donation. Or, maybe we can foster one or both of them. Ah, who knows?


Sergio is the IG that is grey with white patches and Prince Iggy Hop is white with grey patches and has the blue collar. How can we resist? So hard...

New Helmet for Megan

I bought a new helmet on eBay for my scooter. Nothing is wrong with my old helmet, except it is plain and white. My "new" helmet is modeled after an old Vespa design and was cheap, cheap, cheap! It's on it's way here from Korea now -- let's hope it doesn't feel cheap, cheap, cheap! It is DOT certified, though, so it should be good.

The scooter lifestyle is great. I take MARTA when it rains and scooter any other time. Len and I scooter for fun on the weekends, exploring neighborhoods in Atlanta. Saturday I took him to the Sweet Auburn Curb Market. It really hops on the weekdays, with downtown office folks eating their lunches. This is the only place I've ever found outstanding bread and olives in Atlanta. You don't know how important something is until you don't have it anymore...

We rode through some questionable areas -- even saw a real-live drug bust -- but that's all part of city life. Not far from there, Len and I stopped to walk around a so-called in-fill neighborhood. A place where an old warehouse or an entire block of weary buildings are replaced with new residential. It was a cool neighborhood, actually. There were really nice row-houses (or town homes) in the neighborhood, as well as office space and retail space, with a street or so of very authentic craftsmen style homes. The developers did a nice job matching the architecture of the houses and other buildings to the truly old 20s houses across the street. Except these new houses were built much closer together. Also, until you looked around the side, you couldn't tell the new houses were actually like four times larger than the original houses. Price? Starting at $805,000. The people living in the old houses across the street must be counting their imaginary money.

Len is on his last trip to Seattle this week. He's probably relieved and a little sad at the same time. Hope he goes for a beer and the salmon platter at the Virginia Inn one night for dinner and off to Big Time for Beer and pizza another night.

Vegas, Baby!

I should rename my blog "Treats for Blogging" and perhaps then I will be a more reliable blogger. It's been a while.

I went to Vegas last weekend with my mom and my brother, Frank. The trip itself cost us nothing, air and hotel were free for all of us, so our only expenses were eating and gambling. We ate a lot of crumby food because it was cheap -- I had low expectations for the steak and lobster special for $10. It was okay, but I'd have preferred a great hamburger for $7. Alcohol, of course, was free so long as we were gambling. Frank, who had never been to Vegas was really intrigued by this concept. He asked me: "So, what's the deal with the free drinks?" I told him to tip the ladies $1 and he was good to go. He soon got the hang of it, and started asking for the better stuff: "Do you have Samuel Adams?" he'd ask. "Guiness?" Me? Water and vodka tonics all weekend. Mom even had a beer or two.

I astonished Len by arriving home with a few more dollars than I left with. Frank did about as well, but mom was the big winner with her $900 gain. I was actually down the last night by $150 and was pretty sick about it when I played a quarter slot (had been playing roulette all weekend) and won the 1000-coin jackpot. $250! I was redeemed. I played it safe the rest of the time and came home happy.

While at the roulette table one morning, Frank and I, playing our 50 cent chips, watched a young guy from Iowa walk up with his friends. They'd been gambling and drinking all night and were just about to leave for the airport. The kid dropped a $100 bill on red and doubled his money. His friends were in awe. This energized the kid and he played another hundred on black and won again. Now his friends were sure he was God. Kid got cocky and lost $100. Kid raised the stakes and won $500. This went on for a while and everyone at the table was really having fun watching this kid clean up. He walked away $1700 richer.

Too bad that's not the end of the story.

About a half an hour later the kid came back and dropped $500 on red. Lost. Another $500. Lost. I said out loud: "Go home with your $700 and be happy." But the kid from Iowa had to redeem himself in front of his buddies. Frank noticed that the last time he pulled bills out of his wallet, there was nothing left. Kid went home broke.

But, he's got a story to tell for the rest of his life, right?

Otherwise, we all had fun watching the Vegas sights. We saw an Elvis impersonator and an Al Green impersonator (yeah, who knew?). Frank and I did a lot of walking down town -- we stayed in the old area and walked through the Neon sign museum areas and looked for trinkets for his girls. I almost got an airbrushed tattoo -- just to freak Len out. Fremont street has become an attraction all its own, with a canopy covering the street with all the old-school casinos: Fitzgerald's, the Four Queens, the Golden Nugget, etc. It was 109 degrees outside, but in true Vegas fashion, the hotels were blowing cold air out under the canopy and it was actually comfortable. A half-block walk outside the canopy and Frank and I felt like we were actually on fire. It was hot.

That's Vegas, baby.

Product Review

I've painted a lot of rooms in my time.

Considering how cheap I am about things I can easily do myself and all the houses we've owned, it makes sense that I've painted so many rooms. I've used about every paint brand available: Pratt and Lambert, Anderson, Benjamin Moore, Sherwin Williams, Ace brand, Ralph Lauren, and Martha Stewart (back when she hawked stuff for Sears). I have my favorites (Benjamin Moore and Ace brand) and a list of paints I will never buy again. Do not, under any circumstances, buy Ralph Lauren paint. The lovely colors can be matched at any paint counter and you can use a quality paint.

Which brings me to the reason for this blog topic. Until this week, I had never used Behr paint, available only at Home Depot. I figured you get what you pay for with paint, so I stick with paint I've used before and liked. But, the previous owner of my house left her paint behind and I needed to touch up some trim after painting the living room and dining room dark green. One coat of the cream-colored trim paint covered the dark green -- no problem! I was very impressed.

So, I bit the bullet, and bought a gallon of Behr Premium flat paint in the rusty red color for the big dining room. I used a half gallon. One coat covered the whole room and it's a nice, rich color. Wow! For less than $20 and about three hours work, I transformed a room.

It's on to the next room!

Sweet Relief

About three weeks ago, my allergies really started acting up. They just got worse and worse. One night my lips swelled up with hives -- I spent days sneezing so hard my sinuses ached. No sleep, no peace. I'd gone to the doctor for new prescriptions, I stayed in rather than go out into the pollen-infested air, I resigned myself to feeling like this until the season was over.

Then Len suggested it might be the air conditioning. That's when I remembered the grocery bag full of cat hair I found behind the old appliances when the guys came to deliver the new ones. Cat hair and mold in the vents! That's it!

Most people who know me know that I have a strong allergy to cats. Not all cats -- I seem to be fine around some -- but when I get near a cat with the right kind of dander, I can't stay. Hives, can't breathe, itchy eyes. Misery.

So I turned off the air conditioning in the house. That was the first night I had relief. I've sneezed some, but no more than normal, since then, and my eyes aren't nearly as itchy and my hives are gone. Hurrah!

Sears is coming out on Saturday to clean all our vents and we will replace the filters. Until then, I sure hope it stays cool outside!

Living where the breathing is not so easy...

I'm on an Allegra high.
And, a loratidin high.
Yeah, and maybe with a little Benadryl thrown in.
If I break out the wine, who knows if I'll ever come to...

I'm having a really hard time with allergies this season. I don't know if it is because I've been consistently on Loratidin (Clariton-D) for the last several years and the effects have finally worn off, or this is just one mean allergy season.

I saw my doctor last week and she prescribed Allegra since the other seems not to be working. I've also got these great eye drops called Optivar to prevent the itching there -- I seriously look like a dope fiend these days. The Allegra seemed to be helping, but today was unbearable. My nose hurts from rubbing all day, and I'm out of tissue. I've been sneezing so hard my sinuses feel overworked -- if that is even possible. I can't really describe that feeling in my sinuses. Let's just say I can sometimes taste blood in the back of my throat. I know TMI, but, GEEZ, I need a little pity here.


I took my daily dose of Allegra at 9 a.m., a dose of loratidin at 1 p.m., and just swallowed an OTC Benedryl-type drug. (Len, if I don't answer the phone, call an ambulance.) I finally have some relief from the constant sneezing.

Pity me.

The night the lights went out in Georgia

Our power went out Friday night. I was loading the dishwasher when there was a good rain storm going, when lightning struck and we heard a lot POP and the lights went out. Since we have internet based phone service, we couldn't call the power company to report the outage, but Len used my cell phone (the only one with any charge) and called while I got out the candles. 10:30 p.m., the recorded message told us, so we opened another bottle of wine and sat out on the front porch to wait out the storm. Time passed and I got antsy, so I called the power company back, only to hear that the time had changed to 12:30 a.m. That's when we decided to watch a movie on Len's laptop. We decided on the classic "Undercover Brother." Suzy and Clark got it for Len a few years ago and it has been a favorite since. Well, I've been watching a lot of Food Network lately and recognized Jim O'Conner from "The Best Of" in a bit role in the movie. He plays Chad, a totally white guy. Fitting.


For Suzy, I'm posting a picture of my new hair. I know I look stoned in the picture, but really, it's just my allergies that are making me look that way. The hair seems much cuter in the mirror than it does in this picture, though.


The greatest news I have to report is that I have finally finished stripping the wallpaper from the small dining room. Today. Phew! Next step is to prep the walls for the "Mossy Shadow" color I chose -- the same color I painted in the living room. After painting, I will decide if I need to do anything about the damage. I did some pretty extensive spackling yesterday and I hope that repairs the gouges I put in the walls when scraping the paper off.


Once this project is complete, I'll work on the small bathroom, then the bigger dining room, and finally the bedrooms. Hurrah!