Monday, February 17, 2014

Adventures in the Physical Therapy Rehabilitation Hospital

Clumsy Marti tripped over a cat toy in a dark room and fell down.  I had a total hip replacement on January 6.  I had a private room in the post-surgical area of a local hospital.  The nurses were sweet and attentive and seemed to respond soon after I called them.  The nice part of the post-surgical care was the lovely Morphine Drip. After a week in the hospital, I had to leave to go to a local physical therapy rehabilitation hospital.

I went from my cozy nest in the hospital to an alien place.  The rehab hospital was at times a loony bin, a zoo, and a circus.  I went from a private room to a shared room. Nothing compares to being woken up in the middle of the night because roommate is vomiting (or has a worse problem). 

No privacy at all.  When roommate’s doctor came to talk to her, I heard everything, and of course roommate heard my doctor talking to me.  Each day, we were asked about our pooping habits.  I have no idea why my pooping, or not, was important, but the nurses kept track of each patients daily stats.

I learned that I had to get up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and be “ready to roll” for physical therapy.  If  you miss time with PT, you get to make it up another day. I also learned that 90% of PT is positive attitude.  Positive attitude is where the loony bin, the zoo, and the circus show up. To keep myself positive, I found humor everywhere:  no dress code for staff, i.e, nurses, therapists, etc. did not wear a “uniform.”  I often found the clothes for the nursing staff and therapists something I could giggle to myself about.  The office staff did not have a dress code either: a funny thing was the female person that had a short skirt, tights, and cowboy boots.  Another strange staff person had a brightly colored hoodie that had “dinosaur large scalloped shaped  lumps” from the head of it down the back.

The patients also provided humor in their dress: one dude showed up each day for therapy in the same pair of pajamas.  One lady showed up in different clothes each day.  I loved the lady that finally got a cast on her leg: it was purple!

Some patients seemed to be there due to heart attacks or strokes.  Some of them were not verbal, and some of them could talk, but had no idea why they were in the rehab hospital. I didn’t ask those patients why they were there.

I took off over a week from rehab hospital until I started outpatient physical therapy at the same facility.  I am still learning new ways to do things around my house when I am not fully mobile.  So far, I am doing OK and have stayed safe.  I am close to walking without walker, but when I can walk a little, I will continue physical therapy until someone says I can’t continue.

Cats are happy that their human Mom is home; I have a friend (Jane) that I knew would come over each day to take care of my cats.  Three of my cats hid and she never saw them!  I had a friend take me to the liquor store to get Jane some nice red wine; I had it put in a lovely gift basket that also included some Godiva chocolates.

I do suggest that if you have surgery and need physical  rehabilitation that you go to the rehab hospital.  I also suggest that you work hard so you can get out of the place! 

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Running out of relatives

My Aunt Mary lost her fight with cancer, when we all thought she would get better.  I found out that my last Uncle, passed.  Uncle Chuck had alzheimer's and his body finally gave up.  

I have lost two first cousins, over the years, and one first cousin has ALS.  I have lost my two younger siblings.  

My father's side of the family have all lived long lives, unlike my mother's family. My mother had many siblings that passed before she was born.  Mama was 40 years old when she died of cancer.  

I am not worried that my relatives are disappearing, as this girl is not fixin' to die anytime soon.




Wednesday, November 13, 2013

My Childhood

I was born in Des Moines, Iowa.  We left there when I was around two years old, as paternal Grandpa needed help running his farm. Grandpa was ill at the time, but lived until old age.

So we moved to the farm, as Grandparents were now living in town.  I don't think Mama wanted to leave Des Moines, but she loved my Daddy.

Small house, no running water, water heater that you had to fill from the cistern, drinking water was hauled via bucket from a well. We were up-town, as we had a kept-clean, two-seater outhouse with toilet paper.

When they turned the dirt road into a gravelled road, we finally got a phone.  Of course it was a party line. 

Birthdays and Holidays were very simple. Birthdays were just us. Mama would make the meal the birthday person requested. The birthday person didn't have to do chores that day, and didn't have to share the mixer beaters with other siblings on that day. We spent Holidays with either Mama's family or Daddy's family.  At Christmas, no gifts were exchanged with extended family.

Iowa has four seasons, unlike my current home in Houston, Texas.  I loved summer, as Mama would drive us ten miles to a city with a nice library and to go grocery shopping. We only went every two weeks and, being a kid, was only allowed to borrow a limited number of books.  I "ate" books like candy and would run out of books to read.

I started reading some of Mama's books and poetry books.  I remember reading poetry books, out loud, while swinging in my swing in the black walnut tree. 

We had an old graveyard next to our land.  I often played there, by myself.  Guess that's why I still love old graveyards.

I didn't know we were poor in money, as we were rich in love from parents, grandparents, and aunts and uncles.

Mama love to sew and I remember her staying up late to finish matching dresses for her three girls for Easter.  When my brother was born, he wore store-bought clothes.  Guess Mama didn't like to make boy clothes.

I remember so many strange things.  Walking barefoot in the summer and stepping in warm chicken poo; hauling water from the pump for drinking water; daydreaming during winter when priming the cistern pump and the hot water for priming turned cold; Mama taking us outside to look at the stars at night; Mama using an axe to kill a hen for dinner; and so much more.

Grandpa was around a lot and I remember him milking cows and aiming a teat at my mouth to get warm fresh milk.  Daddy never did that.

When I was around five years old, my younger sister and Mama had to go to Iowa City for Nancy's heart operation. She was not quite three years old.  Grandma was in Missouri visiting her family when Daddy and I stayed with Grandpa in town.  Daddy went to the farm each day, and Grandpa was there when I got home from school.  

Grandma saved little bits of food and served them again.  Grandpa tossed out out that stuff and cooked man food -- meat and potatoes.  It was fun being a little kid with Daddy and Grandpa.  I was too young to understand that my sister could have died.

I could go on for hours about the time I spent on that farm.  It was a wonderful childhood.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Miss Sam

Miss Sam was a recent Foster cat.  I gave her love, food, and of course a clean litter box.  I foster cats for Second Chance Pets in my area.  Sam now has a fabulous home with two new humans.  I will miss her; my job is to take care of cats until they get their forever home.  This is Sam checking out her new home.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Bare Feet: Stepping in Cold or Warm Things

Bare feet as I don’t like to wear shoes

As a child, stepped into warm chicken poo.
Part of life on a farm.

Got used to warm chicken  poo and learned to step around it.
But sometimes it would squish between my toes,
when I was not looking down.

I also loved muddy puddles or just mud.
Mud pies were fun to make.

The other night, stepped in cold cat barf.
Cats take turns getting sick, because they are cats.

I thought about it, and decided that warm chicken poo
is better than cold cat barf late at night.
Reason, I would expect warm chicken poo on the farm,
but don’t expect cold cat barf in my house.

Friday, March 22, 2013

Miss Cherry

Miss Cherry is my newest foster cat from Second Chance Pets.  She is a sweetie.

Monday, March 11, 2013

To Roy

You left me one late summer day
and fell down on the floor.

The EMS carted you away,
and I had to sign the papers,
to take you off of life support.

Did you leave your estate in such
as mess because you thought you
would never die?

You never came back to help me,
not even the day I yelled
“Roy, where are the wire nuts.”

My friend says her dead husband
comes back to help her.

You never came back.