Category Archives: Illness

Lingering Loneliness

This came as a surprise.  For the most part this is not something I experience.  I have adjusted to living on my own and consider myself happy in my current lifestyle.  I don’t know if it was the depression of days upon days of gloomy skies and rain, being overly tired from a month that was exceptionally busy and had me feeling overwhelmed,  or the fact that I came down with a horrendous head-cold.  Whatever it was, from out of the shadows loneliness attacked.

In reflecting back I think it was a huge melting pot of all those various factors.  It was rainy, wet, gloomy and cold.  Not my kind of weather at all.  Too many days of drizzly skies compounded the fact that my lawn was getting way too long and between the rain, a trip out of town for a memorial service, and my mower being buried in a shed where it was difficult for me to access, I was frustrated with not being able to get the lawn done.  Then the neighbor mowed his lawn and it made mine look just that much worse.   I don’t like having bad “curb appeal,” but I had and still have a negative “curb appeal” going.

I have been attending physical therapy three times a week, buried at work, and between the two have been more tired than normal.  I have crashed on the couch quite often in the evenings instead of getting things done.  That added to my frustration as my “to-do” list is impossible to complete and lack of energy aggravated me further.Loneliness is my least favorite thing

Suddenly I came down with a massive head cold.  I couldn’t breath, my nose was runny, and I had the chills.  As I lay in my bed shivering the loneliness enveloped me.   For thirty-four years whenever I was sick and had the chills Ron would wrap himself around me and the combination of body heat and human touch would help me to relax and go to sleep.   Now he is gone and I was alone and couldn’t sleep.  That is when it hit.

Ron always handled the yard work and now it is mine to do.  I’m frustrated over not having it done the way I want it.  Landscaping Ron was going to tear out and re-do didn’t get done and it needs to be changed.  The grass isn’t mowed and trimmed the way it should be.  There are things left in the drive, yard and garage from Ron’s scrapping days that I simply want gone.    It has me feeling overwhelmed, angry with myself for not being as fast and efficient at getting it done as he was.  Irritated at the mess I have to deal with.

Weekends were almost always spent together.  Ron and I would get up, have breakfast together and the conversation was always “What are we going to do today?”  Festivals, special events, arts and craft shows, or just going somewhere to shoot pictures.  Photography was a constant part of our lives.  Now I lack motivation.  My weekends are just me.  No one to have breakfast with, plan my day with, or go places with.  Just me doing whatever I want, alone.  On the weekends when I do get out of the house and go somewhere I feel much better, but self-motivation is difficult.

LonelinessBoy, does this sound like a major pity-party or what!  The fact of it is, I am alone.  I have to figure out how to juggle the yard work and get it done.  I have to eat alone, plan my own weekends, get out and be active by myself.  When I’m sick and have chills, that’s the way it goes.  I’m alone and I have to deal with it.    That is life.  That is reality.    Pity-Party over.

So am I lonely or was I just having a moment?  Probably a combination of both.  I don’t feel loneliness on a day-to-day basis.  I have enjoyed adjusting to life on my own.  If someone asked I would tell them I am happy with my life and it would be true.  Will I continue to have moments when loneliness hits me?  Most likely.  Do I want to spend the rest of my life alone?  Not really.  I would prefer to someday find someone who has similar interests and with whom I can share my days and a home with.  Until that time arrives I shall continue as I am and I shall be happy, because happy is the best way to be.

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Filed under Coping, decisions, Discoveries, environmental, Family, habit, home, Illness, impressions, Life Changing, Life is a Melting Pot, memoir, mind, reality

Reflecting on the Reasons

On Thanksgiving Day my cousin, Michelle, who lost her husband to cancer about a month ago, had a post on Facebook stating how Charlie had loved Thanksgiving, had been the main meal planner, did the shopping, cooking,  and eating.  Not only was she grieving the loss of her husband, but their family tradition every year involves going around the table and each person saying what they are thankful for.  Michelle posted that she wasn’t sure how she would answer this year because every year she always said the same thing…her family, her job, the love of her amazing husband and that he continued to kick cancer’s butt.

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  Michelle and Charlie – Photos “stolen” from her Facebook Page

This year Charlie didn’t kick cancer’s butt, it kicked him.  Hard.  He was still working about two weeks prior to his passing.  He went down fast.  When I read her post I didn’t even hesitate, I just started typing.  My comment to her was:

“I know what you are thankful for, it is the same thing I am thankful for.  Neither Charlie or Ron are sick, nauseous, in pain, or in any way suffering from that horrid disease.  Maybe they have found each other in heaven and are getting acquainted by trading photography tips and stories.” 

After I posted the above response the reality hit me.  I may have used my ankle surgery as an excuse for choosing to spend the holiday solo, but the reality was I didn’t want to do the meal preparations alone, at least not this year.  Ron and I had always prepared it jointly.  I stuffed the bird and baked the sweet potatoes.  Ron did the potatoes, sometimes re-baked, sometimes mashed, sometimes both.  Ron made the fruit salad.  I did the green bean casserole.  One of us made the gravy, and the list goes on.

Last year I did it all alone, but that was different.  Ron was too sick to participate in the preparations in 2015, but he was still here.  He came to the table, had a few bites of food, and went back to the couch.  Austin (our 9-year old grandson) spent most of the day sitting next to Ron.  Eleven days later Ron was gone.

I realized that regardless of how well I have adjusted there will be moments when things hit me, and sometimes I won’t realize it at the time.  What I posted to Michelle in the comments is true.  I am glad that Ron is no longer struggling to swallow, weak, or sick from the combination of chemo and the disease itself.   I have moved on with my life, I have made the adjustment to being alone.  How do I know?time-dont-rush-anything

Another question that Michelle had posed to me a week or two earlier was how I handled going through Ron’s belongings.  She was struggling with that step.  My answer, you will know when you are ready, because it will be just another task, not an emotional roller coaster.  I only recently started cleaning Ron’s clothes out of the closet.   I told Michelle that I hadn’t unpacked the bag of Ron’s clothes I brought home from hospice the day he died until a few weeks ago.  That bag had been in my closet unopened for 11 months.  I was finally ready.  No emotions, just clothes to put away.

Everyone is different and processes loss at different levels.  From time to time there will probably be something that triggers a memory or an emotion.  We are, after all, human.

So in answering my cousin’s post in an effort to help her cope with her loss, I gained insight into my own reasons for being so adamant about not preparing the meal this year.  Next year will be different.  If I don’t have people here I will be gone and doing something.  Possibly volunteer at a kitchen that provides meals for the needy.  Home alone will not become a habit of mine, of that I am certain.

 

 

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Filed under cancer, Coping, death, decisions, Family, Holidays, Illness, Life is a Melting Pot, Meals

Up and Back in a Day

This past Saturday was emotional, enlightening, fun, and exhausting all rolled into one.  A couple weeks ago I wrote about my cousin losing her husband after a lengthy battle with cancer in Feeling Their Pain.  The funeral was set and I debated for a week whether or not to go.  I wanted to go, but I have a lot going on and I was juggling the loss of an entire Saturday to travel and attend v. being able to get things accomplished around home.  I didn’t want to later regret not going so I went.

It was a beautiful fall Saturday in Michigan.  The visitation was scheduled for 10:00 am, funeral for 11:00.  I set my alarm for 4:00 am and was on the road at 5:15 am for the four hour drive.  I watched the sunrise through the passenger side of my vehicle as I traveled north on I-75.   A quick fifteen minute stop in West Branch gave me the opportunity to re-fuel the vehicle and myself by way of coffee and pumpkin donuts.  I was in Traverse City at 9:30 am.  death

The funeral was held at the Reynolds Jonkoff Funeral Home in Traverse City, the same place my Grandmother’s funeral was held years ago.  A beautiful, historical home that lends itself to comfort for memorial services.  Photo boards and memorabilia of Charlie’s life were on display, and a slide show of photos played on the screen.  Always smiling, always clowning around and being silly, that was Charlie.

I was greeted by family I rarely see and met some I have never seen.  It is hard to maintain contact with extended family when we all live so far apart.  Facebook is a blessing in that regard for helping people to stay in touch.  Charlie’s widow, Michelle, and I had not seen each other since we were children, but we recognized each other immediately.    It had only been six days since Charlie passed and Michelle was struggling emotionally.  We held each other and cried together, Michelle because the pain was new, me because I was reliving the pain through the memories this setting brought on.  I left her a card in which I enclosed the poem I read at my husband Ron’s burial, If Tomorrow Starts Without Me (see below).

During the ceremony the Obituary of Charlie Jokinen was read.  Charlie grew up in grew up in Bobcaygeon, Ontario and the stories shared by his best friend from childhood were filled with humor; good memories of a wonderful person in his youth.   Michelle’s daughter, Nicole, talked about what a wonderful, accepting person Charlie was when he came into their lives, and how despite his struggles with cancer always attended her sporting events, concerts, and other activities of youth.  I learned that Charlie and my husband, Ron, were very much alike.  Both loved photography, being active, loved life and family, and were always smiling.   It was a wonderful testimonial to a life well lived and a person well liked and loved by all.

Following the ceremony was the procession to the Memorial Gardens where Charlie was laid to rest beside my Uncle Lee and Aunt Jesse Hilts, who were laid to rest beside my maternal grandparents, Ralph and Grace Hilts.  They are all located not far from the graves of my paternal grandparents, uncle and parents.  After a short grave side service during which Michelle lowered Charlie’s ashes into the ground, we proceeded to the Grawn Baptist Church for a luncheon and fellowship with family members and friends.

About 2:30 I hugged Michelle goodbye before getting on the road.  We promised to stay in touch and get together for a weekend.   We now have a common bond not shared by our siblings or other cousins.  I did manage to accidentally announce my departure rather loudly.  As I was walking across the lot to my car I somehow managed to activate my car alarm.  Nothing like a bright red car with the horn blasting and lights flashing to signal the end of a memorial luncheon.  I glanced around, thought I was safe from anyone having witnesses my blunder and got into my car.  Then a grey pickup pulled in next to me, it was my cousin, Iva, and her husband Milt.  I rolled down the window and Milt congratulated me on adding a bit of humor to the end of the day.

I took the more scenic, leisurely route across the state on my way home.  This served two purposes.  It allowed me to enjoy the beautiful northern fall scenery with an occasional stop to take photographs, and the climbing in and out of the car into the cool air helped to keep me awake as I drove.

It was not until I got on US-10, an expressway, that the length of the day made me drowsy.  I know that if I keep busy it helps me to stay awake and the singing and dancing in the car while driving wasn’t doing the trick.   I finally made a stop and picked up a highly nutritious snack at Speedway gas station of a spiced pumpkin cappuccino and a small bag of crunchy Cheetos.  I know, individually they sound yummy but as a combo it sounds horrid.  Remarkably it wasn’t, so go ahead and give it a try sometimes.  It did work in keeping me awake as I stretched that bag of Cheetos all the way to I-69, which marked only an hour more to go on my route.

I arrived home around 7:00 pm.  A tiring day but I am glad I went.  It was good for Michelle to have me there.  It was good for me to be there.

funeral-whentomorrowstartswithoutmepoem

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Filed under cancer, celebration, Coping, death, Family, Illness, Life is a Melting Pot, marriage, memoir, travel

Feeling Their Pain

It has been ten months since my husband, Ron, passed away following a fifteen month battle with cancer.  I am doing well, and moving forward in my new life.  I have a cousin…or actually a first cousin once removed if you want to be technical, whose husband has been battling a rare cancer for nine years and is now in the final stages, losing his fight as well.

thankful-for-every-momentI was reading Michelle’s post on Facebook yesterday.  Many notes of sympathy and prayers.  They know her, they know her husband Charlie, they know what a great couple and wonderful marriage they had.  I, on the other hand, have not seen Michelle personally in years.  We were together as children, but not as adults.  We are in contact only by Facebook now.  However, I can truly feel her pain.

As I read her post I could feel the helplessness at watching a man who has lived an active, positive life quickly deteriorate into a person who is lifeless, sick, unable to manage even the simple things in life.   There is no “fix.”  You are moving toward the end and you both know it but don’t really want to say it.  You are losing the person you thought would be there for decades more.   It is an emotional situation like none other you will ever experience.  You aren’t losing a grandparent, parent, sibling, cousin, aunt, uncle, or child.  You are losing a spouse.  It is different and only those who have ever experienced it can understand what a different loss it is.

I typed a reply, relying on my experience.  I had to cut it short.  I was sitting at work and almost started crying because I really can feel what she is going through.  What did I tell her?  Cherish the memories, remind him of those things.  Tell him it was a great marriage.  Tell him you will be okay.  Those are things that will bring him peace as he moves toward the end.

She is going through the hard part.  Then there is the adjustment period following the death.  But as time passes she will be okay.  She will live a new “normal” life without Charlie.  She has a positive attitude and her new life will also be positive and good.  How do I know?  Because that is what I am doing.   I’ve been there.  I can feel her pain.  I know she will persevere and move forward.  That is the type of person she is.

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Nervous? More Like Terrified

Last week I went to a surgeon for a consultation on my ankle.  For those of you who don’t know, six years ago I was riding my motorcycle and was broadsided by a car.  Due to injuries from  that accident my left leg is titanium from the hip ball down through the ankle, with the exception of the knee.

A couple years ago my ankle, which has two plates and several screws in it, developed degenerative arthritis as a result of the impact of the accident. I was told then that surgery was in my future, when it got to the point where pain was affecting my quality of life.  That point arrived this spring and has gotten progressively worse over the summer.  When you are forgoing about 75-85% of what you would normally due because of the pain and swelling, it is time to take action.

The good news is that 95% of the people who have an ankle fusion done, once healed, never have pain again.  The process is done as outpatient surgery.  The bad news, the surgery is done under a local anesthetic for which I will be numbed only from the knee down and away during the entire process.  Not good!  I’m a chicken!

Following the surgery there is a twelve (12) week non-weight bearing period of recovery. I am certainly not looking forward to that time, as I will be dependent on people to drive me everywhere, and I will be living in a colonial home alone.  Prior to the surgery I will need to make sure everything I need is moved to the first floor of the home where I can access it.  I lived like that before after the accident, but I had my husband to help me at that time.

When you hear out-patient, the mind tells you it can’t possibly be as bad as you think.  Well, think again.  When I commented that I could probably go back to work in a day or two the nurse practitioner said no, I will be in a lot of pain that first week.  Well isn’t that an encouraging thought to someone who is already extremely nervous about the entire process.

That evening I sat in my house contemplating the process and the fact that I would be alone.  I looked around and thought sleeping on a couch, learning to wash my hair at the kitchen sink, fix my own meals, maneuver to do laundry, carry things, and get dressed, all while popping pain pills and with a cast on my ankle on which I can not put any pressure  at all.

I panicked.  I called my sister-in-law and she has agreed to come down and stay with me those first few days while I get adjusted.  A second bonus, if for some reason she is unable to come, my best friend who lives in North Carolina has volunteered to drive up and stay with me.  I feel much better having someone here while I am learning to hobble around and figure out how to do things one-legged.

So, am I nervous?  No, I’m terrified, but I will get through this.  What other choice to I have?  I have decided that surgery when you are the subject of a trauma and unconscious is much easier to handle then contemplating and analyzing prior to a planned procedure.  Unfortunately I have a lot of time to contemplate as the procedure isn’t scheduled until the middle of November.  Maybe I’ll relax and get used to the idea.  Who am I fooling, that isn’t likely to handle, but one must think positive.

 

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We Turn The Page

Last week I wrote about my husband, Ronald Grogan’s battle with cancer.  We were informed on the 1st of December that the cancer had spread, there was nothing they could do.  We began living the rest of our marriage day-by-day.

Those days were numbered more tightly then I realized.  On Thursday, December 3rd Hospice contacted me and at that point I told them I didn’t need them to do the intake appointment until the following Monday or Tuesday.  By the next day, Friday, Ron’s condition had worsened to the point where I decided to call and have them come out that day to get him set up.

IMG_1146

Ronald and Grace Grogan

The intake appointment was conducted Friday at about 4:00 pm, and we were told that because it is a lot of information to absorb they would send out an on-call nurse Saturday to check on Ron and answer any questions.

Saturday at around 2 pm the visiting nurse arrived.  Ron was very weak, hadn’t eaten anything and said he almost fell when using the restroom early in the morning.  After some discussion Ron made the decision that he should be transferred to the Blue Water Hospice House immediately.

2324 - Ron and Grace-  Leelenau Peninsula - North 2015

Ronald and Grace Grogan

I got Ron checked into hospice around 6:00 pm on Saturday, stayed with him until 8:00, and then went home for the night, telling him I would be back on Sunday.  I went home, made phone calls to inform family, and found out that my sister and her husband, my sister-in-law, and my brother-in-law all planned to visit the next day, as did my daughter, her boyfriend and her three children.

Sunday was a busy day with all the visitors coming and going.  As we approached evening and everyone except my sister-in-law had left, the hospice nurse, Holly was chatting with us.  I had made a comment about going home to sleep and stopping in the next morning on my way to work.  I live and work about 3 minutes from the hospice house, so I thought that was reasonable and convenient.

0197 Ron taking photographs-1Holly didn’t question my thought process so much as ask me questions that steered me into making a better decision.  She asked me, in my opinion, on a scale of 1-10 how much I thought Ron’s condition had worsened since I had checked him in 24 hours earlier.  I said about a 6.  Holly then looked at me and asked if I was sure I wanted to go home that night, and was I sure I wanted to be at work, because two minutes could make the difference in being there or not being there when he passed.  I made the decision to stay and my sister-in-law, Cathy, said she would stay with me.

Cathy and I made a quick run out to pick up sandwhichs for dinner and a run to the house for me to grab my glasses so I could remove contacts, then back to the hospice house for the night.

3557 Ron and Tripod after implosion

Aftermath on an implosion – Ron Grogan takes down his camera and tripod as the cloud of dust rolls in. Copyright 2015. Photo by Grace Grogan

I was informed that it is okay for me to get in bed with Ron and sleep with him, they encourage that.  At 8 pm I layed down in the bed with Ron for what I thought was a few minutes.  It turns out I fell asleep and was there for about two hours.  I got back up, but then later that night went back into the bed with him, which is where I slept all night, holding his hand, covering him up when he got cold, listening to his breathing.   At 6:20 am I got up for the day.

Ron was still responsive at that time, but shortly after stopped responding to questions.  Our son called and I held the phone to Ron’s ear while Patrick talked.  Cathy and I made a quick run out to pick up breakfast and lunch. In the early afternoon Cathy went over to the family room to lay down and rest.  My daughter, Caroline and her boyfriend stopped in with just the baby.  The nurse had come in, checked on Ron and said time was getting close.

I was sitting on the bed, holding Ron’s hand, talking to him.  His breaths were getting more distant, but every time Alexandria  made a sound he struggled for another breath.  I told Caroline I thought he was hanging on and wouldn’t let go till Alex was out of the room, so Caroline, Rob and Alexandria left.

Memories - a way of holding onto the things ou loveIt was only minutes.  I told Ron that it was okay, I would be okay.  Ron took two more breaths with a wide space between and was gone.  When I realized he was not going to take any more breaths I hit the nurses call button.  When they heard me crying over the intercom one of them came in and rubbed my back as I lay there crying.  It was so close they tried to catch Caroline in the parking lot but couldn’t.

I don’t know how long I lay there, my guess is about ten minutes before I asked if one of them could go across the hall and advise his sister.  We both called family members to let them know.  The people at hospice left me alone with Ron until I was ready for them to clean him up.  They contacted the National Cremation Society and made arrangements to have his body picked up.

Ron was wheeled out of the Blue Water Hospice with an American flag over his body because he is a Veteran.  He will be buried in the National Cemetery in Holly, Michigan.  We will have a celebration of life for him in March where his photographs will be displayed.

2009So now we turn the page.  It has been only two days since Ron passed.  I am learning how to come home to an empty house.  To move through my days without him here.  I am adjusting, slowly.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under cancer, celebration, Coping, death, Family, home, Illness, Life is a Melting Pot, marriage

Living Day by Day

We all live expecting life to continue as it always has.  We dream, make plans, say we’ll do things tomorrow.  What if tomorrow never comes?  What if you find out your tomorrows are limited?  That is when you begin living day by day, one day at a time.

Ron-1

Ron approximately 1980

If you have been a reader for a while you may remember when I wrote in January about my husband’s Slippery Surgical Stress where due to a large tumor and cancer he had a transhiatal esophagectomy in which they removed his esophagus then raised his stomach up and attached it where the esophagus once was.  The surgery went well, he had a speedy recovery and it was believed he was cancer free.

Then at Ron’s three month post-op checkup they found cancer in his lung, which they related to the esophagus cancer.  He began a round of chemo, wearing a chemo-pack for 48 hours every two weeks.  After that round they did another scan, the cancer had gotten worse and they changed the type of chemo and he did another round, which he completed on November 19th.

Life if like a camera-1

Life is Like a Camera. Photo by Grace Grogan

Ron had a CT Scan on Monday, November 30th.  The cancer has spread.  Chemo is not working.  Treatment is being stopped.  Ron is down to 99.6 lbs and is unable to eat or drink much.  He is very weak and exhausted all the time.  We inquired as to whether it would be beneficial to have him hospitalized and put on a feeding tube to get nutrition into him.  The answer was devastating.  A feeding tube will not provide him with an increase in energy and will not enhance his quality of life, instead it could deplete it due to potential complications.

So, I took my husband home and we take it day by day.  The oncologist will have hospice contact me.  We plan for his passing.  I pray he makes it through Christmas.   Once we hit Christmas, the next goal is our grandson’s birthday in January.  We will set goals one-by-one.

Emotionally this is very trying.  I have spent more time in tears in the past 48 hours than I have in years.  I feel horrible that he and our son (who is in prison), only have telephone contact or letters for contact during this time.   They are very close and this is hard on both of them.   I feel crushed that our youngest grandchild, who will have her first birthday on the 12th of December, is too young to remember her grandfather.  I worry about my two grandsons, ages 4 and 9 who are very close to him.  I could be a fly on the wall, it is always “where’s Papa?” when they come through the door.

So, this has been a rough year,  but it has also been a good year because when Ron got the diagnosis that his cancer was back he took a positive approach and lived like he was dying.  He took 2-1/2 weeks and drove west to Sante Fe, New Mexico and back, making numerous stops along the way and doing things he had never done…a hot air balloon ride, a glider ride, and more.  The two of us flew to Albuquerque and attended the International Hot Air Balloon Festival.  We drove north and toured the Michigan State Hospital, went up into the UP and visited our son.  Ron walked the Mackinac Bridge on Labor Day, and old tradition of ours.  He drove to Tennessee and checked on property we own there, taking a side trip to Nashville where he had never been.  Ron attended his 45th Class Reunion, we went to a BBQ where he saw some of his old high school friends.  He took pictures, he planned for the future.  He spent this past  year the best he could.

I am trying to maintain as normal a routine as possible.  Friends and family have been supportive.  We have people scheduled to come visit him.    I dread the day he is no longer here.  In some ways it feels lonely already.

I have adopted the motto of my teenage nephew, who a few years ago was battling cancer and facing imminent death.   His motto was “Every Day’s a Bonus.”  I’m borrowing that motto.  Every day that I have Ron here with me is a bonus.

 

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Back Amongst the Living

I am now back amongst the living, or at least trying to be.  My husband, Ron, was laughing as I asked how people cope with this on a regular basis.  The last time I dealt with this was in September 2010, and that was only for 48 hours, this was five days down, two days debatable, and I’m still not totally back.

I can blame the attorney I work for, he is the one that contaminated me with this awful cold/flu bug.  When I contacted him last week on Wednesday and told him I was at work, but only for a couple hours to get some things organized and then going home sick, he called me and said “The good news is, you’ll live.”  He then proceeded to tell me while I had it I would be miserable.  Nothing like a note of encouragement from the boss!

People like me who generally don’t get sick don’t do sick well, we don’t know how to cope.  Seriously, I don’t have time for this!  However, the world did not come to a screeching halt because I was not functioning in it, and I did make a few observations along the way.

  • Daytime TV has its advantages and disadvantages.  When you are likely going to be sleeping more than watching, channels that run marathons are great.  You can watch 15 minutes of Criminal Minds at 11 am, catch a few more minutes at 12:30, and then grab a great ending at 2:00.  Same characters, and the variety in the crime just adds a bit of interest to the show.
  • As soon as you get fully reclined and snuggled under your afghan the telephone will ring.
  • Despite all the lousy telemarketer messages you get on your answering machine, there are an even larger number of callers that don’t leave messages if you ignore the incoming call.
  • There are a lot of TV shows advertised that appear to be families fighting, both physically and verbally, with each other.  Do people really watch these shows?
  • When you are sick and have an upset stomach, cooking shows do nothing to spur hunger — watch to your heart’s content without any risk of calorie intake.
  • I can survive without consuming coffee for seven days — that is how long I did not even want coffee, a sure sign I was sick, I am a pot a day person.
  • Gatorade, although considered a good drink for restoring balance to your system, makes you thirsty and increases the need for water consumption 2-3 times over the normal.  Doesn’t  this just flush out all those good electrolytes it is supposed to be restoring?
  • Almost all of the game show hosts have changed since the last time I was watching daytime TV.  I miss Bob Barker and Monty Hall.
  • After a week of consuming practically nothing, the stomach shrinks and those simple little Weight Watcher Smart Ones meals that I once needed to supplement with fruit are now, on their own, almost too much for one meal.
  • There is nothing more depressing than to anticipate a huge weight loss based on a weeks worth of next to nothing consumption, only to step on the scale and see only a 4 lb. difference.

Despite all the vast knowledge I accumulated during my time of illness, and even though I have not yet fully recovered, since I have one of those horrid lingering coughs that sounds like I’m ready to keel over and die any minute, I am now back up and once again functioning in society.  I had my first cup of coffee this morning for the first time in seven days…a sure sign that I am on the way to a full recovery.

Here’s hoping I don’t get sick again for several years.  I don’t have time for this , and I seriously don’t know how people who get sick on a regular basis cope.  Ugghhh!

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