Farewell 2023

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

Home Sweet Home

Homebody:  [hōmbäd′ē] – a person mainly concerned with affairs of the home or one who prefers to stay at home.

Yep, that’s pretty much my M.O.  except for the red shoes. NoPlaceLikeHome

Being places, seeing family and friends, those things are fun.  Traveling to get there is not.  First, I’m obsessing about what to pack, how many meds, supplies, equipment, extra, etc., will I need to last me until I return home.  Because there is always that – thing hanging over me.  I don’t even know what the item is!  But it is the one I completely forgot that is critical to have.  This horrible fear of screwing up is agony.  Why don’t I trust myself?  I made my list and checked everything off.  I packed my suitcase like an overstuffed parlor chair.

Then, I open the fridge door to grab my water bottle as we leave for the airport.  At this moment, my heart stops, and I can’t breathe.  I see the little drawer I keep my insulin in – that was not packed. This is why I don’t trust myself!  I can’t stop beating myself up about it.  I imagined my pump alerting me to change it to a new one and realizing I had not packed the insulin.  Whew!  Close call there, but no harm done.  Not physically.

Because of approaching snowstorms, I am dumped off at an airport hotel the day before my flight.  It took until noon to dig the cars out from the previous night’s snowfall.  Then another 3 hours to navigate icy mountain roads to Sacramento – normally a 2-hour trip.  After a quick kiss and hug goodbye, hubby & son were back on the road, hoping to beat the incoming storm home.  I was able to relax here in a hotel, alone, with power.  I felt almost giddy.  I could even watch a movie on TV.  The mountain has not had electricity since the last week.  I almost felt guilty.  I got over it.

After a leisurely shower, I watched a movie, wrote in my journal, and slept like the dead.  The 4:30 am wake-up call got me outta bed and repacking.  I wanted to “gussy up”, but in the hideous fluorescent bathroom lighting, no amount of makeup or hairspray could help me look better than a morgue shot.

I was looking forward to a large coffee at the airport, but the coffee shop line was so long that I had to get out of line to make my flight.  I was still feeling edgy from nearly leaving my insulin in the hotel room fridge.  Thank you, Guardian Angel!

I can’t leave home without him 🙂

TTFN