Farewell 2023

December 31, 2023December 30, 2023 ~ JodiLea

You began wonderfully; I woke up in my own bed, in my own house. Long story that belongs in 2022. The aftermath of all that we are still dealing with to this day. I am grateful that it was not worse. Enough about that.

In May I would be 65 years old. I was unprepared for the onslot of health insurance and medical institutes pestering me. My email inbox would have 50+ emails regarding Medicare. It is kind of spooky that the entire U.S.A. knows you are turning sixty-five. There must be a list somewhere.

Your winter was cold and long. The snow piled up – inches into feet, then yards. Before it could melt, another winter storm advisory was issued, and we were stuck at home for a few days. Again. Over and over.

Spring finally arrived around Memorial Day, and the first hot summer day was in July. In August, I finally thawed out from the winter of 2022, only to arrive home from our anniversary trip in September (Cabo San Lucas) to freezing temperatures. I was not happy about that.

Of course, by the end of this year, I was not happy about much. Things went south when I entered Phase I of the dental plan. We (the dental office and I) discovered that the temp dentures were too huge once my jaw’s swelling and healing progressed. At the end of July, my surgeon gave me the thumbs up to go into Phase II – the permanent dentures that would snap into place with the implants that were placed in my jaw. After 3 sets of dentures – the third time is not always the charm; BTW, none of them fit my mouth or even worked together.

The only reason I can think of for this is that no one had any impressions of my mouth when I had teeth. How could this be? I was always biting into that goop to send to the lab to make my partials and crowns. We are talking about YEARS of dental impressions, photos, and scans of my jaw. I have been crowned more times than all the Winsors in England. And yet, not one of those models that depict my original tooth structure and bite is to be found.

I have spent the last 9 months without the ability to chew. And yes, you CAN get tired of ice cream, milkshakes, and smoothies. So, I will be starting Phase II over again with a specialist whose office is a 2-hour drive each way from our house. This faraway land is called “Modesto,” and it is the land of specialists. My Endo is also there. I think the main reason hubby and I put up with this is that there are no specialists closer. And – Costco is there.

I just realized that if I’m snowed in, I can still have teleappointments with my Endo. Not so with a denture specialist. I may have to go another half a year of hiding my face behind masks. These weird situations like this jaw thing keep cropping up. Things that I never heard about anyone ever having to deal with before. If you read this blog occasionally, you know what I am talking about.

Then, just last night, after my shower, I noticed something on my scalp.
“Oh, please be a tick,” I muttered. I finally had 3 mirrors arranged to take a good look at the something on top of my head. I recognized the thing. It was not a tick. It was the same brown spot that had happened before, in a different place on my head that was cancer. Sigh.

Not going to make the mistake I did last time. I waited while it grew larger. I listened to my doctor tell me it was probably not serious, but we will watch it. By the time I had a biopsy, it was a large mass and a good-sized hole in my head when it got removed. To close the wound, the surgeon cut my scalp open with a huge ‘L’ shape that surrounded the hole, then he and his assistant proceeded to install stitches that would pull my scalp over the wound. by this time, the local anesthetic was wearing off, and I got to experience this reconstructive surgery without anesthetic. Do you know how many nerves are in the skin over your scalp?
Because I refuse to have another lobotomy, I will get a referral for a dermatologist ASAP.

I betcha there is a great Dermatologist- in Modesto.

Goodbye and good riddance, 2023.
Welcome, 2024!

TTFN

And the Hits Just Keep on Coming…

December 11, 2022 ~ JodiLea

After 11 days, hubby is out of the hospital. However, his IV-delivered medicine has to keep happening every morning. The first day home a nurse came to show us how to prep the lines and flush them, then do a bunch of stuff like mixing the meds into the bag, prep the tubing, hooking that up into the bag, and hanging the bag. The meds take 30 minutes to get into hubby’s bloodstream. Once those are done, everything is unplugged and taken down and the leads get flushed out and capped. Until the next time.

And yes, it is as complicated as it sounds. Each step is easy on its own. When you must do all 40 of these steps in the correct order, in a timely manner, with the patient and his sister watching every move you make, it is overwhelming. Did I mention that the IV tubes on the outside of his arm, that I work with, do not feed the veins in his arm like the typical IV does? The tubes were surgically planted into his heart to deliver this crucial medication. I rather not know that detail, but it’s too late now.

Three days after his discharge I am still filling out paperwork for the home care and the infectious diseases doctor. Each medical entity has its own form, so I got one to fill out at urgent care, one in the ER, one in ICU, and one for the physician. One for the Home Care people, the Home Care pharmacist, the visiting nurse, and now for the new specialist we see two days from now.

Has no one in this town ever heard of a xerox machine?

My daughter asked me how I was doing, and it was right then I realized I was depressed. A typical reaction for me, once the emergency or danger passed, is to fall apart. I allow all the fear, panic, and emotions to finally hit me.

This grumpy curly haired child expresses herself exactly how I feel. Society frowns on grown women pouting in public. Only cute kids can get away with it, so Miss grumpy locks here is my Avatar.

Dear Power Company,

January 25, 2017 ~ JodiLea

I am writing you this letter to:

Protest your inefficiency at prioritization of emergency calls.
To give you a clue about our neighborhood.

Day One
Tree branch broke and downed power lines on my street. YOU, meaning the Almighty Power Company, put out an orange cone and used yellow construction tape to block off the street at the nearby cross-street.

Yes, YOU did send out all those recorded “comfort” messages by phone. Too bad I did not bigfootcometh get them. No power, no telephone service. We only knew what happened by one of our neighbors who lived across the street where it happened.

Day Two
I had to make a phone call and we get no cell coverage from Verizon where our home is. This meant a bit of a walk down the street to get a strong enough signal. Actually we were not able to walk – it was more like maneuvering through 3 feet of snow and ice. Something I have never had to do in my life. Something I always thought would be fun. I am an idiot.

When we came across the orange cone and yellow tape, we saw that the tree and power lines were still in the street. This did not make us happy. So, the first call I made was to YOU and a recording answered. “If you have an emergency, like downed power lines, press one” So I did.

My call was picked up immediately and the operator took all the information. It would seem that YOU blocked off the street but did not tell a work crew about it. I was assured that it would be taken care of ASAP.

And it was. The lines were moved over to the side of the road (as much as possible because the tree pinning them down and blocking the road was not removed).

Day Three
anditsstillsnowing We asked our neighbor who had power (lucky bum!) to call YOU, again, and find out what the deal was. The deal was that YOU changed the status of my call to ‘resolved’. I was NOT happy about this news at all. YOU were now dealing with a sleep deprived (someone needed to keep putting wood into the stove), barely washed (no hot water, remember?), woman who just moved all the semi-warm contents of her fridge to her ice-cold garage. “Garage: is the New Frigidaire” probably won’t catch on like the other dumb sayings have, but I can relate to this one.

It snowed all day, so that must have delayed YOU from even starting to work on our situation. Our neighbor, whom I owe cookies now, knocked on our door and told us YOU said the status for our neighborhood’s restoration was 5:45 pm – today.

YOU are in so much trouble! Especially when the sun set and we knew we would spend another night in total darkness. Thankfully, we were able to scrounge up enough batteries to keep a camping lantern going when we needed to see.

Day Four
Being cut off from the world (no TV, phone calls, Internet, texting), was driving me mad. Unable to watch the playoff games on the weekend, I had no clue who was going to the Super Bowl. My cousins had their baby girl and I didn’t know for days! And…I missed the Oscar Nomination announcements! To many people it is probably easy to wait for that information. Not for me. My whole being was “chomping at the bit” – a saying I now fully understand, BTW.

The latest ETA from YOU is noon today. Forgive me if I don’t believe it. Hubby has the fire roaring and along with 3 layers of clothing and ensconced in a “snuggy”, I am finally warm. I feel rebellious and snarky and I’m not going to move until my pout is over. Even though I have to pee.

Peeing has become a necessary evil. As you pull 4 layers down, you get a preview of the ice-cold seat awaiting you. It is 52 F in the bathroom. In spite of the warm lantern you bring in to comb your hair by.

A smart woman would take advantage of an empty fridge that is fairly warm and wash the bins and shelves. I, normally am that woman, and it could happen still, after I am finished with my pout.

Noon came and went. No surprises there. To YOUR credit we did have power in the afternoon. It was like, I imagine, getting out of jail must feel. I waited a half an hour before plugging things back into outlets, just to be safe from brownouts. I feared we would be back in the dark soon. My faith in YOU, diminished a lot.

Sincerely,
Jodi Lea
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BTW, my fridge is a gleaming white appliance. I hate to put food in it again. Hubby said, “It’s blinding!” and threw his arms up over his eyes. He’s such a comedian.

His humor kept me from having a severe pout. My sense of humor had left the building along with Elvis on Day Two. I, who pride myself on getting through things with my great sense of humor, am truly embarrassed.

I was humbled even further when hubby answered our first phone call.

“You’ve reached the Donner Party, please leave a message,” his huge grin was like a kid making a prank call, and that made me laugh even harder.

♥ TTFN ♥