Friday, October 23, 2009

Quick Update

I'm sorry I haven't gotten on here to update those of you who have been praying for our family. Thank you so much for those prayers!

My Grandma went to be with the Lord on Sunday morning. Mr. Macchiato's Grandma went to be with the Lord last night.

We are still in the thick of things... My mother moved my Grandma and Aunt up to Seattle about 5 years ago but we are having the memorial in San Diego next week. Mr. Macchiato will be leaving for Ohio as soon as he can book his flight. We don't know when the funeral will be yet.


Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Urgent Prayer Request!!!

Mr. Macchiato's Grandma (98 and in Ohio) has not been awake since Friday and this morning there was no output in her cath bag. Hospice told my Mother-in-law that it wouldn't be long before Grandma passes. When Mr. Macchiato was a little boy he used to tell his Grandma that he loved her so much that he was going to have the biggest and bestest funeral for her that ever was. It really tickled her and some years back she gave Mr. Macchiato the bible that his Grandpa had given her and told him that she was holding him to that promise from when he was a little boy. We were prepared for him to make arrangements to leave anytime.

My Grandma (95 and in Seattle) has been in the hospital and I just got a call from my Mom. She's not going to make it and my aunts and uncles are all flying in to Seattle tonight.

We are scrambling. I've been sick with the flu but am now pretty much over it. However, I was at the doctor ... again... this morning and we still have not got things all figured out with my belly. We are trying to find someone who can take care of Double Shot and get him to all the places he needs to be and also take care of Benny. Needless to say, our stress level is high.

Thank you so very much!

Update: Looks like I'm pulling an all nighter. I'm headed to Denver bright and early to catch a flight to Seattle. We've got a plan and Mr. Macchiato will head out to Ohio when he needs to. My Grandma has dementia but still has moments when she is lucid. My Mom said that she woke up for a bit and she told her that I was coming and she understood and was happy. Of course, that doesn't mean she'll know who I am when I get there. Please pray that she doesn't pass before I get there.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

My Ridiculous Life

I've been in the hospital. Swine Flu? No. Food poisoning? No. Flesh eating disease? No. Broken bones? No. Intestinal issues? Yes.
How do I put this delicately? I could not "go." Nice. Let me tell you this: Constipation = MEAN. It's true. In the nearly 21 years we've been married Mr. Macchiato has been constipated ONCE. And he was meaner. than. a. snake.
This is my anonymous blog. Yes, there are some of you that read this that know me in real life but I limit how many of you real lifers know about this here blog. I do try to maintain some semblance of normalcy when out and about amongst the general public you know.
The hospital stay was the result of a week spent with me trying to remedy the situation myself. To no avail. And with me stopping just short of ingesting a stick of dynamite. Mr. Macchiato made me an appointment to see the doctor last Friday after demanding to know why I'd been so mean all week. He was mortified. If he had been me he would have been locked up in jail for having gone on a murderous rampage throughout the city.
I typed out my sad tale for the doctor. She was mortified. I was sent directly to the hospital for a CT scan. After they confirmed that I did, in fact, have a problem, she told me to get some magnesium citrate and drink a bottle of that and to do warm water enemas. Nice.
Friday night I drank a bottle of the magnesium citrate and rolled around on my bed trying not to throw up for hours. And nothing. Saturday I did FIVE enemas. And nothing. Saturday night I drank another bottle of magnesium citrate. And nothing.
On Sunday I had Mr. Macchiato call my friend in Mississippi who is a nurse that has really gotten into health and nutrition (fellow blogger Karen Deborah). I needed him to speak for me because I can't be heard whispering on the phone and we had a lot of ground to cover. He was difficult. He wanted to just beat around the bush and didn't want to say the word "constipated." I whisper yelled at him (which means I whispered faster while making a mean face) that Karen is a NURSE and to just say what I say. We were on the phone for a long time. It was great because she explained a lot of what she's been learning recently and Mr. Macchiato really listened. I'd been telling him about it all too... but... he doesn't really listen to me when I talk about stuff like that. Oh, he'll tell you he does. He doesn't.
Karen suggested I try a warm milk and molasses enema. Apparently, that's what they give cancer patients. It is supposed to be very gentle and effective. I tried it. And nothing. And I'm never drinking milk again.
Sunday night I drank yet another bottle of magnesium citrate. I was extremely nauseous and started throwing up. Only there wasn't much to throw up because I hadn't eaten in days. Then my stomach really started to hurt. Mr. Macchiato called the doctor on call and then we waited around a little while to see if things settled down. At 1 am Monday morning Mr. Macchiato drove me to the ER.
I was admitted. While still waiting for a bed in the ER they decided to try an "11th Floor Enema." It was BRUTAL with little result. I experienced tingling in my extremities and when the blood pressure cuff went off my hand cramped up. It scared me and I started hyperventilating which caused all my muscles to cramp. I could not straighten my arms or uncurl my hands. My legs twisted and it was extremely painful. I didn't know if I was having a seizure, if it was some sort of dystonia attack, or what. That made me hyperventilate more which made the cramping worse. There were people all around me and one kept yelling at me to slow my breathing down. They injected Adavan and said I was having a panic attack. I don't know if this had something to do with it but, we learned later that I am severely potassium deficient.
Monday afternoon I had an NG tube inserted through my nose down into my belly. It was a fairly large tube and it hurt my throat the entire time it was in. They slowly put a gallon of the prep solution for colonoscopies through the tube throughout the course of the day. I had to be given phenegran a couple times because I would throw up around the tube. I was MISERABLE.
Some good friends of ours came to visit around 8 pm. I could tell by their faces that I was freaking them out. I'm sure I looked pretty bad. While they were there my new night nurse was attending to me. I had been very fortunate to have great nurses up to that point. This nurse was schlepping around with one of the warm blankets for patients around her shoulders like a shawl. While the other nurses had injected the solution into the tube slowly she plunged it down as quickly as possible. My tube became clogged and she came back with a can of Diet Coke which she tried to plunge through just as quickly, making it fizz up and spill over the top. She talked to herself and dropped trash on the floor and then didn't bother herself to pick it up. Our friends were horrified.
Things finally started moving at 10 pm and the tube was removed at 11 pm. My IV line had gone bad and was removed. No one could get another line in so two people from the Flight for Life crew were brought down. They were awesome and got one in first try. I am currently sporting the arms of an intravenous drug addict.

And... I got a new nurse! She was great! The best one of them all. I asked her what happened to the worst nurse ever and she told me that she went home. She wasn't feeling well and had slept late so was unable to call for a replacement. When they learned she was running a fever they sent her home. Nice. If I come down with the Swine Flu in a couple days we will know why.
5 am Tuesday morning I received another "11th Floor Enema" just to be sure. I'm still hearing, "Roll over on your left side," in my dreams at night. At 6 am I was taken for my colonoscopy of which I remember nothing and of which I was given the all clear. I was finally discharged at 4 pm on Tuesday... a full two hours after I was told I would be.
Since my return home I have been afflicted with the opposite problem. Nice.
Mr. Macchiato, while on Sunday was squeamish about uttering the word constipation, quickly got over his reluctance to speak of all bowel related issues and has been busy proclaiming to the entire free world all the nitty gritty little details of my intestinal woes. I have overheard many a conversation of his on the phone that has made me blush in horror. He's also seen fit to relay to me all of the stories about so and so's first cousin's uncle or brother-in-law's mother or whatever who had the same sort of problems and suggestions as to what can be done about it. Good Grief.
When I was in the shower yesterday someone started beating on our front door. And I do mean BEATING. It scared the bejeebers out of me. I looked out of the bathroom window to see a white florist van parked all cattywompus in our driveway but didn't see the delivery person. I quickly put on my robe and looked out the window again to see that he'd gone over to the neighbors that I don't know (I do know most of them) that likes to argue with his girlfriend in the driveway quite regularly. I opened our front door as he reached our driveway and he told me he'd go get my flowers for me. A few minutes later as I was standing on my porch signing for my flowers it hit me that I was buck naked under my robe as water was still dripping off of my legs and was standing mere inches from some strange man. Nice.

The flowers were from Mr. Macchiato's co-workers. I just know when I walk into the Christmas party this year that people will discreetly whisper into their spouses/dates ears, "That's *****... remember the one that had to be hospitalized in October because she couldn't crap?" and they'll slowly nod their heads as they say, "ooooooh yeah..."
And to add insult to injury... I didn't even lose any weight.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Purely Random

Baby Booper
He's still exactly the same... just 75 lbs.

I have not had any sugar...
or processed food of any kind..
Two of them... and some days.
My kids have always messed around with my camera when I'm not home. It makes me mad. Frappy's bed was broken but she said she didn't know how...
Hmmmm... methinks by them jumping on it when I wasn't home!

Now, when I look at these two years later...
I'm glad I have the pictures.

This was the sky yesterday morning from backyard.

The "Garum" making.

The makings of the Ancient Roman appetizer...
Lettuce, Albacore Tuna, Boiled Eggs, Olive Oil
and the jar of Garum to look at.

Woo Hoo.
Double Shot is now making a presentation with the pictures for tomorrow.
Tomorrow is Homecoming.
The team had 6 am practice.
The Varsity Team Dinner was set for 4 pm.
Pep Rally and Bonfire with the destroying of a van is happening now.
Double Shot has so much homework that I picked him up at 3 pm.
This schedule is B.R.U.T.A.L.

The view of Pike's Peak from Double Shot's school parking lot this afternoon.