Hellooooooooooooooo, Possuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuums!
Coming to you from the Celebrity Suites of the Wyndemere Condominiums on Turtle Creek in Dallas, Texas. Today is Thursday, November 17. It’s going to be a sunny day with a high of 58 degrees.
Happy Belated Birthday to:
Happy Birthday to:
Rhett Cisenors-King
Good Morning and Happy Holidays, Possums and Happy Friday Eve. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and I will be having no part of it. Mainly because I have chemotherapy Monday morning, so there’s that, but I'm going to miss the cornbraead dressing (not stuffing) sweet potato casserole and the other usual suspects (mainly those two). But let’s back up a few days, shall we?
Like a good patient who trusts his doctor with every fiber of his being- and still does; let it so be decreed that whomever released Covid, created Covid or had anything to do with Covid and it’s affects on the population of the world making a vaccine and several booster shots necessary for - (not to jump the the front of the line but in particularly) me…well, he/she/they should obviously be forgiven, followed by a punch in the throat and made to sit through Andrew Lloyd Weber’s mind-numbingly, horrible, evil, wicked, you would entertain suicidal thoughtss (the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255) sequel to Phantom of the Opera, repunched in the throat (I don’t typically condone violence), sit through the show again, and tell everyone he/she/they sees how much he/she/they enjoyed it and conclude the conversation with a final throat punch. We should sell tickets benefitting my retirement!
On Monday of this week - gosh that seems like three weeks ago - I was out running errands - picking up prescriptions, getting my blood drawn to make my lymphocte levels are high enough for chemotherapy on Monday (and they are), and finally, getting that rat-bastard of a vaccine, the Covid booster.
I was fine until Monday night until around 9pm and it became increasingly more difficult to roll (in my wheelchair). I don’t typically drink and roll but some days, you just wanna come home, have hot meal, have a cocktail or two and roll around the house in your underwear. LOL - just kidding. I don’t do that…….anymore. You don't make that mistake twice.
Well, I went to bed at 9pm and woke up at 3am Tuesday and I could not see. I mean, I could see, but everything was incredibly blurry or I had double vision, my speaking made no sense to anyone. It made sense in my head, but that did NOT translate into words and finally, I could no longer stand or move my legs and they HURT...I mean HURT.
I ended up going to the hospital. All traffic was being rerouted to Baylor (my former hospital of choice) and I was not at all happy about that. All I could think about is Dr. Death (that docu-miniseries about Baylor and the doctor they hired that kept killing his patients) and this new doctor or nurse that killed patients in surgery- just recently - within the last two months.
I sat in the emergency room for 5 hours with my Bestie, Roger. Mostly we just gabbed about the Voice and braided each other's hair. But at one point, a friend from College Station, TX (TAMU) wandered by, I hadn't seen him (Joey Zapata) in years. He was a student worker in my office, but in the Er with a friend. I finally got taken back to -NOT A BAY OR ROOM IN THE EMERGENCY ROOM - but a gurney up against the wall…because being immuno-supressed, it was a smart move to leave me on a gurney in the hall and not in a bay/room like the empty one I could see, right across from me. It was empty the entire time. It was so full of nothing. No more nothing could fit in that room. I'm not bitter about it at all.
The enjoyable/enteraining part of this gurney locale was a woman, pale as a ghost, kept leaving her room and walking by me every 10 or 15 minutes, back of her gown open and flapping in the wind. She stopped by once and (genius that she is said, “you look sick” and the delusionally weirded-out-by her person that I still was said, “let’s be clear, you’re not dead, right?” She never answered.
The neurologist on call came by and he was, well other than being charm-free, he was a condescending asshole. He told me I probably just needed a plasma exchange (PLEX). I said. “yes. I have a power-flow port in my chest. I have them every other week. I would rather have it at UTSW. And he said, “Well, Why did you come here?” Oh No, No, No - do NOT come at me like that. After that remark, I figured I would go a step further and I said I would prefer, before you begin any treatment, please consult with my neurologist at UTSW because she is the ABSOLUTE BEST! Well, that sent this asshole over the edge. You would think I told him to go back to medical school…or charm school the least.
He left and I never saw him again and quite frankly…BYE, FELECIA!!!
They did a chest x-ray and did and ultrasound on my legs (they were quite swollen and painfiul and were looking for clots) and returned me to my gurney against the wall. About 3am, I was released, no clots detected and by 4am I was at home.
I have been in the best care (except for Baylor) the entire time, Roger R Carbajal , Timothy Thomas , Shannon Brown have all gotten me through this. if you don’t already, y’all need to go out and get you some friends like these because they are rare and they are nothing but love!!
Today, I am alone in my casa. I am able to stand and move around, my vision is back to normal and Tim and Roger are on call. But the best part about today is, my best buddy, Lynn, from graduate school, whom I have not see in 32 years is in town and she’s coming over for dinner (I made it quite clear I am ordering in).
OK - that was a lot. I’m exhausted but I am back, Possums. I need some hot coffee and blanket and my couch. What are your plans today?
Anyhoozle, I wish you and everyone around you a SPECTACULAR day. Do everything today with kindness in your heart. The world is full of kind people. If you can’t find one, be one! Peace, Love and Blessings to you all. -AJ
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