Smooth Solomon's Seal

 

 The Latin name for this woodland plant is Polygonatum biflorum, a member of the lily family. Its common name is Smooth Solomon's Seal. According to my wildflower Audubon Society field guide, it gets its name from the rootstalk which is jointed. When the leaf stalk breaks away from it, a distinctive scar results which is said to resemble the official seal of King Solomon. My field guide adds that "Indians and colonists used the starchy rhizomes as food." 

This is one of the first wildflowers I spotted when we first moved here and began exploring the woods way back in the mid-1980's. In the past decade, it has reproduced itself, probably brought in with a transplant, in my terraced woodland garden that started out as a rock garden. There are at least a dozen there now, and I cherish them.

Sweet William

 Do these look wild to you? I had never had any experience with Sweet William before last year. In fact, I always got them mixed up with primroses, the little plants you can buy in the grocery store mid-Winter. But summer of 2007, I planted a package of "Wild Flowers" that had Sweet William listed as one of the mixture contained within. A few of these dainty plants came up last year. Now this year, even more have come up. Now this is a plant I like! Pretty, dainty, tough and it multiplies! I plan to plant more when I can find the seed. (From my photo, it looks like a gaillardia came up, too, although May seems pretty early for what I've always considered a summertime flower.)

This is an area we look down on from our family room deck. It's about 15 feet wide bordering the house on the left, and then falling off down the hillside on the right. In 2007 my friend, Wayne, dug out the shale, Round-upped the weeds, and we filled it back in with a top soil and manure mixture. We bordered it with a curved rubber edging and I made a flat rock path curving through the middle. However, the drip line made its own trough so we moved the rocks under the drip line so the plants could receive the rain and not get washed away. That did away with the curving path, but fortunately, the plant leaves are camouflaging the straightness of the drip line rocks.

I had no real plan for this area; I just wanted it to blend in with the surrounding hillside which is covered with honeysuckle, small saplings, poke weed, and mullein.

I like mullein; poke weed I can do without! Our air conditioner lives over here also, up close to the pilings that hold up the deck. That's the shady end of this planting area.

The other end is sunny from the house facing southwest, so the plants receive the rays of the hot late afternoon and the setting sun. I've planted leftover day lilies in here, a few bearded iris, some liriope (monkey grass), rudebeckia (Black-eyed Susans), coreopsis, and all the packages of wildflower seeds I had accumulated. Recently, I had a landscaper (a recently graduated student who is starting up his own landscaping business) move some large plants for me, and he moved two deciduous azaleas into the sunny end. They really have perked up the area so it looks more "garden-ish" then just a whole bunch of plants tossed out by the alley. I'll post more pictures as interesting things happen over here. Wild children get a lot of attention, you know!

A Recommended Ground Cover

These were small plants freshly planted last summer. I predict that they will cover this small terraced planter by the end of this summer. This is Spotted Deadnettle, a member of the mint family. I first heard of this plant on a landscaping show on Home and Garden TV. Its scientific name is 

lamium maculatum. There are two varieties here; the one with purple flowers is "Purple Dragon," and the white flowering one is "White Nancy."

It is shade loving and deer resistant. I love it for the dark shady areas we have in abundance living in the woods.

Oops! Weeds and Flowers!

Last year, I sent for some perennial seeds like coreopsis and cosmos and saw an annual (so they said) seed for sale and for some reason decided to order it. It was called "Dames Rocket," which I had never heard of. The instructions on the package said it was an annual and would bloom in the summer. So I planted it around the crab apple tree thinking it would make a good cover for the tulips. I also gave some to two friends of mine, one who lives in Jonesborough, TN and the other near Greeneville, TN. Within a couple weeks I had beautiful plants, but no blooms. Hmmm, I thought, the distributor must have meant it is a bi-annual, and perhaps it will bloom next year.

It did, beautiful 4-petaled pink flowers that look just like the wild phlox that grows along the road in the country. I was elated, thinking I had wild phlox. I took this picture of it to post on this Blog, and then I looked up Dames Rocket on Google. It did not get good reviews. In fact, most of the professional websites consider Dames Rocket, or Hesperis matronalis as "invasive" to the point of crowding out nicer garden plants and advised against buying it outright or accidentally in wildflower mixes.

Not all was negative, however. It was mentioned that it has a nice fragrance and that birds find the seeds tasty. 

It definitely is not the wild version of phlox. Wild phlox, phlox divaricata, has 5 petals while Dames Rocket has 4. I have had a little experience with a patch of it that has repeatedly come up in my backyard. It makes a nice looking bouquet for the house and it disappears when the seeds have fallen. So, I'm not sure what makes it "invasive," except perhaps it reappears and has to be pulled as a weed. But hey, isn't that the nature of the beast?

Well, it's blooming profusely around my crabapple tree right now, and has been for several weeks, so I'll see what happens. I have daylilies, Siberian iris, and Black-eyed Susans in that planter bed along with tulips. 

I think I'll take the remaining seeds (when you order through an Internet mail-order service, they send you hundreds, if not thousands of seeds, not like the 15 seeds you get in a $1.00 packet at the retail store) and throw them in the ditch by our mailbox. My mother used to call bearded iris "alley plants" because they were so easy to grow, you could grow them out by the alley. So perhaps Dames Rocket is a "ditch plant." Or how about a "mailbox plant." Make that a "country mailbox plant" because I've seen some pretty fancy mailboxes with exotic blooms vining around and over them.

Anyone know how Dames Rocket got their name? They don't look anything like a rocket--they look just like phlox!  

A Tie Is Classic(al)

 I never gave a thought to giving Chris a tie--until I saw this one for sale in a ship's boutique when we went on our Caribbean cruise last Dec.  The horizontal print in the picture are musical notes and the photo is of Tchaikovsky. I knew Chris would be required to wear a tie for his school concerts, and thought he would find this one novel and amusing. Well, from his reaction today when he saw it, I would say he loved it! 

The Grands Visit Castle Yonder

 

Well, it was short but sweet! as always, when Jessica and Christopher come to visit. Jessica is 21 and Chris is 15. She will be leaving their home in Lynchburg, VA in a few weeks to get settled in Charleston, SC which will include finding a job, an apartment, and preparing to become a student at the university there. She has a good friend from high school who is getting a divorce and will be going with her. 

Chris leaves on May 22 for a truly exciting adventure. He has been accepted into The Blue Stars which is a touring performing drum and bugle corps. Well, I'm not sure that's what they call them, because they have several sections, i.e. percussion, trumpet, tuba, and a color guard. They put on shows for the public and are precision marchers and jazzy performers. No Sousa for them! Chris is just about the youngest musician who has ever made the cut. Most of the members are college age. He had to get special permission from the school board as well as his principal to leave school three weeks ahead of time. He had to take all his exams early. 

Oh, yes, he plays several instruments including piano, but I think his favorite is the trumpet (marching band) and mellophone (orchestra). His goal is to go to a college that emphasizes music, and I think he's thinking Julliard and Philadelphia Conservatory of Music. He is a musical whiz. I knew he would be when I took him and his sister to the Hands On Museum in Johnson City, and he went up to the old upright piano they had and instead of pounding on the keys like all children I've ever known, he put his little fingers into the exact proper positions on the keys and moved them from left to right. I know he had a little tune going in his head right then! 

We are very proud of him, needless to say. And his sister is no small shakes at music either. She played the French horn and the flute and became the drum major her Senior year (I always thought that position was a baton twirler, which it was in my outback high school, but 

in the big city schools (like Lynchburg, ahem) the drum major is the band's conductor. She could have majored in music and dance in college, but just didn't want to. She is still searching for her passion, and I have all the faith that it will be all that much sweeter for her when she finds it!

On this trip we worked while we visited. Jessica and I went to the grocery store and she pushed me in a wheel chair so I could manage the oxygen and the cane. (It's kind of like walking and chewing gum--takes coordination.) I've had some carpal tunnel syndrome or arthritis (take your pick) in my right arm which makes it difficult for me to get things down off shelves. Then she and Chris put the groceries away and made sandwiches for lunch. She hung some curtains for me that I had taken down and washed from the bedroom we've been re-doing. Chris used the leaf blower to blow off the family room decks, took out all the trash and garbage, put some books and knick-knacks back on the shelves, and shoes back into the closet, and then hung some windchimes I've been collecting into my windchime tree. 

Then they left, back home to Lynchburg and their lives. We have not had quantities of time with them as they've grown up, as is often the case with divorced families, but we have always had quality time. Chris' Blue Stars group will be holding a performance in Kingsport on July 7, so I hope we'll be able to go to that. I especially hope so for Rocky's sake, as he continues to struggle with his condition. 

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Update on Rocky

Rocky just spent another two nights in the hospital. He couldn't get his breath and this time had chest pains. So we called 911 and off he went. Because of my limitations, being on oxygen and still using a cane, I did not go with him. My intuition said his chest pains were indigestion, and so they turned out to be, thank heavens. He was admitted and steroids were given him intravenously until his breathing could be controlled. He was discharged yesterday, and seems to be doing well although he is short-winded. He says this trip was a "reality check" and he realizes he will have to use oxygen for the rest of his life. He is being much more religious about using it in the short time he's been home. 

As Kurt Vonnegut used to write in his early books, "And so it goes." Our life is changing, but some of our joys remain the same, the birds, their songs, the woods, and the life it harbors.

We pray that we can stay here just as long as possible.

Tonight we are expecting our two grandchildren from Lynchburg, so I must go and await. They'll be here any minute!

One Big Morel!

 Our friend, Jay Fisher, who hunts mushrooms on our property found this one (and only one that day) that he took home and photographed between two 8 oz. paper cups to show how big it is. That's what I call a "Whopper." 

I also just learned, from my friend Granny Sue's  blog, that West Virginia folks call morel mushrooms "mollymoochers."

I haven't heard anyone from around here call them that, but I don't really get around that much.  I can't wait to tell Jay--I wonder if he, being from the North like I am, has ever heard that. Well, he has an appreciation for the language like my husband and I do so he'll love the words. Mollymoochers, so much easier to say, and remember, than morel mushrooms.  And so much more colorful.

Iris and Salvia

 May is abloom in my terraced flower beds. The woods serve as a backdrop for these purple and white bearded iris and the purple salvia in the bed one step down. But pay attention to the center front--there's a daisy fleabane, a wildflower that is considered a weed when it grows among the flowers. I pulled some the other day, but evidently missed this one. Isn't that just like a weed--to get its face into the picture? 

Bald Eagle Hunts Over Castle Yonder!

 

I almost forgot to tell you a thrilling thing that happened on April 27. I remember the date well because my friend, Norris, had left that day after having been here with me for close to a week. She planned to stop in Bethany, Virginia for two nights to attend the Sounds Of the Mountains Storytelling Festival on her way back to Virginia Beach, her home.

I had gone to the beauty shop, my first excursion unaccompanied unless you count the cane and the oxygen tank as "company." (I must admit I have come to think of them as my BF's.) Rocky was napping when I got home and the house seemed so quiet. I walked into the guest bedroom and looked out the window which I often do when I feel pensive. I love to stand there and look at my woodland garden which is what I call my old rock garden since it has grown lush with hostas, azaleas, ferns, and some wild flowers we brought in from the woods. 

I hadn't been there long when something in the sky caught my eye. Remember, we are at an elevation of 3000 feet here on the top of a "saddle" or a "bridge" in the middle of a bowl shaped valley, small though that valley may be. Growing up the sides of the "saddle" or "bridge" are primarily hickory and oak trees with an occasional dogwood, redbud, and Virginia pine sprinkled in, and lots of underbrush. The tops of those big trees are not all that much higher than our two-storey house. 

I realized that what I was looking at was a huge bird with its wings spread wide riding the air currents. I'm always mistaking buzzards for some more rare bird, but this didn't flap around like a buzzard. And I couldn't see a bit of red on a tail as I thought maybe it was the red-tailed hawk which frequents the area. And this bird was huge, and I could see its wing span was wider than any bird I had ever seen! And then I saw the white head and the shape of the head was, without a doubt, AN EAGLE! 

I wanted to run for the camera! But if I did, the bird would probably be gone by the time I found it and clicked it on and aimed! I didn't want to miss a bit of this thrill, so I just stood staring at it circling, circling, circling moving slightly away from me and the house with each circle until it had moved out of sight. "OhmiGod, ohmiGod, ohhhhh," was all I could say and my heart thrilled and filled with the words I would use to tell Rocky what I had seen. 

I feel the visit of the eagle is some kind of omen. I just don't know the meaning. What I'm thinking now is that it/she/he came to remind Rocky and me that all is o.k. if the eagles are back (they released some a decade ago in the Smoky Mountains, and more recently, on Holsten Lake, which is just over the knobs from us.) All is o.k., Mother Nature is working her ways, and when the inevitable happens to the Rockwells, the eagles will be there for us.  

Note: I did not take these photos. These are from Google's Picasa photo site that Picasa users have generously uploaded for use by the Google community. The photo of the flying eagle looks exactly like my experience two weeks ago.

Mothers Day Orchid

 

Happy Mothers' Day to all my friends who are mothers.

Some of us, like me, lost our mothers early in our lives,

So often we seek nurture from our DNA sisters and from friends,

And sometimes from chocolate bars and mashed potatoes and banana pudding.

And often we give nurture the way we would like to receive it,

Our mothers taught us how, waaaay early in our lives, 

So we in turn can love our sons and daughters

who (face it) it's sometimes hard to do.

And if we are lucky in love, we receive a man's nurture,

It's not the same as a woman's touch,

But it will do, and his way feels good to us so we press 

our lips to the back of his hand

And remember through our senses that very first touch of love.

Mimi Rockwell

   May 10, 2009

My Very Best Friend from Abingdon

 This is Jean, my VBF from Abingdon. I've known her since 1982 when she served on a women's panel for a workshop I was producing for the Bristol Crisis Center. A decade later, we became partners in a marriage and therapy counseling center. We worked together for about five years. Since I've retired, we have discovered more about each other than mental health issues. We have a similar philosophy of life, and enjoy a lot of the same books, movies, and tv programs. Not all! We have distinct differences, too, but we find them interesting and so far have never run out of things to talk about.

Jean has really "been there" for me since my hospitalization. She surprised me by coming to the hospital to see me, then "fetched" me home and stayed overnight with me. She is very easy to be around--quiet yet conversational. She goes about whatever business she's engaged in whether it's cooking or putting groceries away or doing some laundry.

She is assertive and takes care of her self (and her own home chores) simply working her obligations into my schedule.

When my Virginia Beach friend left, Jean brought dinner over to us several times, called me every day just to check that we were doing o.k., and stopped at the store to buy groceries for me. We had planned to plant my large plant containers on two different occasions, but both times we had a change of plans because of other things going on, i.e. yesterday, she carried all our clothes back to the closets from whence they had come. 

I took this wonderful picture of Jean smiling on her son Quinn's wedding day last August. She's not particularly photogenic, and rarely do you get a good picture of her. But this one is natural, and I treasure it. She is the epitome of "friendship."

Weekend Update

We chose to have some chaos in our lives this past week. We'd been advised to remove the carpet from our Master bedroom since it is well known to harbor those pesky dust-y dust mites and several folks have speculated that our bedroom where we used to harbor four therapy cats just might be making us sick. Our neighbor is a contractor and he had a free week so we decided to replace the carpet with a laminate floating floor NOW. He started last Sunday and except for some electrical tweaking, he finished today. This meant Rocky slept in the guest bedroom double bed, and a daybed was brought down from our upstairs for me. 

Because the platform bed, headboard, and night stands were built in in our master bedroom, this meant that we would have to get a new bed, and Rocky decided he wanted a new mattress, too. Shopping for all this could have been a nightmare, but good fortune was with us and it turned out to be a breeze.

I researched latex mattresses on the Internet and since neither of us is allergic to latex, and because decades ago the first mattress I ever purchased was a Sears foam rubber mattress which I was very pleased with, I decided all natural latex was what I wanted. I loved the Sears mattress and said I would have another one someday. But they went off the market, probably because they crumbled into tiny bits eventually. However, they have now refined the manufacturing process, and use a variety of techniques to make them feel softer, yet remain firm for good spinal alignment.

 The highly advertised Temper-pedic is a latex mattress plus. They add "memory foam" which conforms to your body shape. They also use a variety of chemicals in the production process which are petroleum based. However, they are too soft for many people and one of the negatives is that they can be difficult to turn over on, and that the latex is preferable for people with hip and spinal problems, which is me! 

A big negative for all three well-known mattresses, Sealy, Simmons, and Serta, is that they are very expensive, close to $3000 for a Queen. Our contractor suggested we try a store in Bristol with the unfortunate name, Sleep Cheap. I went there last Monday and I saw when I walked through the front door a beautiful mattress, all natural latex with soy fibers and silk as fillers that soften it, and a cover made from bamboo. How environmentally conscious can you get? But it was made by a company I'd never heard of. Carolina Mattress Guild. And it was half the price of the well-advertised department store selections, $1500 for a Queen. I asked how they could sell them at that price, and the answer was that they don't make as great a profit on them as the other stores. 

I really think that the advertising makes all the difference in the world. Carolina Mattress Guild doesn't advertise, and Sealy et al does. Go figure! 

By the way, the current advertising is an urban legend. The memory foam beds were developed by a Swedish firm, and not NASA for the space industry. NASA has never developed any kind of bed to be used on the space crafts. Yet, the mattress manufacturers continue to use this false advertising. My information comes from Consumer Reports and other objective mattress buying guides I found on-line. 

And to top it all off, I knew the Sleep Cheap store owners! We had purchased appliances from their store way back in 1984 when we built our house.(No, they weren't called Cook Cheap, or Wash Dishes Cheap, or Refrigerate Cheap.)  But from our experience with them then, we knew they are reputable, honest retailers. I pulled my credit card out, and just like that, I had purchased the mattress. (I researched Carolina Mattress Guild that night on the Internet and thankfully found nothing negative.) 

And Kathy, the female partner in the store, when she heard I was also shopping for a bed, gave me the directions to another store, West State Street Furniture, which is selling discounted QUALITY furniture. There are plenty of discount furniture stores around here, but everything is so cheap. These store owners make a weekly trip over to North Carolina where the furniture manufacturers are and buy close outs, remainders, overstock, one-of-a-kind pieces from manufacturers like Broyhill. The store looks like a little antique store, but inside it is chock full of beautiful furniture pieces, not arranged in suites, but just anywhere and everywhere they'll fit. They also have a large warehouse nearby. 

I looked at a dozen beds and then I saw THE ONE. I fell in love with it instantly, and will try to take a picture soon to post. I couldn't get matching night stands. Well, I could have but they weren't in stock and to order them would have cost me more than twice what I paid for the headboard, footboard, and rails for two of them. The bed is in a beautiful matte finish mahogany (to match the knotholes in all the knotty pine we've used) so I found two wonderful mahogany shaker-type nightstands, each with three drawers which will help out with storage. 

So all furniture was delivered yesterday and we slept in our new bed on our new mattress for the first time last night. Together. 

Rescued Rhodies

 A few years ago, one of our favorite nurseries was going out of business. We went several times, but made a point to drop in on the last day. We found an aisle with maybe 20 sick and ailing rhododendrons, some barely alive. The nurseryman sold them to us for $1.00 each. These we planted in the entrance to a small holler that had lots of leaf litter on the ground, is on the northeast side of our property, and was large enough to hold a "grove," should we be so lucky that these would live. Well, they did and in spite of the deer chomping down one (and one only!) here's how they look this year. 

Mountain Greenery

Whenever I drive through a canopy of emerald green trees, I think of this song and try to sing it, much to my companions' distress. When I drove down our lane a few days ago, my breath was taken away by the springtime green surrounding me. When I checked the lyrics out on the Internet last night, I was surprised to see it had been written in 1926! By Lorenz Hart and Richard Rodgers, the great Broadway show musical team. (But they sure labored to find rhymes for this one. I also enjoyed the slang they used!) Another surprise is how often, and how recently, it has been recorded as jazz, both vocal and instrumental.

"On the first of May

it's moving day;

Spring is here, so blow your job--

throw your job away.

Now the time to trust

to your wanderlust.

In the city's dust you wait,

Must you wait?

Just you wait;

In a mountain greenery

Where God paints the scenery,

Just two crazy people together.

While you love your lover, let

blue skies be your coverlet.

When it rains, we laugh at the weather.

And if you're good

I'll search for wood

so you can cook

while I stand looking.

Beans could get no keener reception

in a beanery.

Bless our mountain greenery home.

In a mountain greenery

Where God paints the scenery,

Just two crazy people together,

How we love sequestering,

Where no pests are pestering,

No man holds us together.

Mosquitoes here

Won't bite you, dear,

I'll let them sting

Me on my finger.

We could find no cleaner retreat

From life's machinery

Than our mountain greenery home.

April Showers Bring May Flowers

I like to think in metaphors. Like "April Showers" could be the health issues and difficulties Rocky and I had in April. "May Flowers" could be the quality of life we now establish for ourselves. Will it be May Weeds--or May Flowers?

We both came home from the hospital with referrals for Home Health Care and Physical Therapy. Our doctor recommended Bristol Home Health Care, and we have been very satisfied. An RN, Kendria, came twice a week for two weeks, and now is coming once a week for 60 days. A re-assessment will then be done to determine if we need continued check-ups.

The Physical Therapist, Gina, comes twice a week and works with both Rocky and me doing simple exercises and strength training. I have not bounced back as fast as I have in the past following births or surgeries. I am the principal driver since Rocky's vision never fully recovered from the minor stroke he had the end of 2007. I have gone out both by myself and with Rocky. My usual routine is to do several errands in one trip, but now it is tiring to do more than two. I still haven't been to the grocery store!

My first trip out was on April 24 when I scheduled both a manicure and the first pedicure I've ever had. I had been wearing artificial nails and learned from the hospital nurses that they are not allowed to wear them because they harbor bacteria. So one of my first chores when I came home was to soak them in acetone and get those babies off! Now my nails underneath are very weak so I'm letting the manicurist pamper me and strengthen my digits!

The pedicure was wonderful, of course, and I've scheduled another for next week. I also got a perm last Thursday so I feel I look as good as I can, considering the circumstances. My Abingdon VBF, Jean, stayed overnight with me when she brought me home from the hospital. I'm not scared out here in the woods anymore; I've lived here too long to be scared, but I was concerned that the dogs might have an emergency of some kind during the night (skunks, prowling critters that the dogs chase,and howling lost hounds are the most common night-time disturbances) and I didn't feel up to dealing with whatever might come up.

The following night, my Virginia Beach VBF, Norris, arrived and stayed for five nights. I've already talked about what she had to put up with--a very stressed and edgy friend, Me! So, I guess I needed to take the edges off with a pampering manicure, pedicure, and coiffure.

I also found I had a strong need to be in control of my environment. This first became apparent on the first day home when I sat on the edge of my bed and organized all the costume jewelry in my jewelry boxes. It seemed like a "crazy" thing to be doing, sort of low on the priority list, but then I realized that I very much needed to feel back in control after a week of hospital dependancy.

I had also watched a good bit of The Dog Whisperer on tv in the hospital, and Jean and I put that into action immediately as soon as we got out of the car calmly and I didn't make a fuss about being back home with my babies. The dogs responded beautifully, did not jump up on us, and acted like calm four-legged friends. Our massive male Springer Spaniel, Abe, had intimidated his sister, Bonnie, until she wouldn't go to her food dish to eat at all. So I had to let Abe know that I was back and "in charge." Cezar, the Dog Whisperer, says that when dogs sense a power vacuum through its people getting sick or weak in some way, the most dominant dog will take over. Abe's dominance is due to his male-ness and his 85 lbs., but Bonnie at 50 lbs. gives him a run for his money because she is very energetic and smart. Unforunately for her, that just makes Abe more forceful with her so she will submit, and our friend, Jack, who was coming over to feed them in the mornings, reported Abe had bitten her on the nose that morning. It took her three days to go to her dog dish and eat normally.

I showed my Alpha-ness immediately by not backing down when I ordered them to go out, etc. even when Abe would lie down to let me know he didn't want to, nor did he plan to do what I said. As long as I followed through by simply touching him near the collar, and speaking firmly, he would give in and go out the door and agree that I am the Alpha. If you've never watched The Dog Whisperer and you have dogs, do yourself and your canines a favor by following the principles, "Calm, Assertive."

Our neighbors, Rudy and Leigh Ann, had been out of town for part of the week that I came home, but as soon as they returned, they began fixing meals for us. Our first outing was to drive up to their house (they live at the beginning of our lane while we live at the end, a little less than a mile in between) and eat dinner with them. Since then we have eaten at Perkins Restaurant twice and did not wear our oxygen although Rocky had his handy in the car. My instructions are that I don't need to use it when I am "at rest," but do need it when I am "on the go." I find that I have to use it in order to get from a parking lot into a store or building unless it is a very short distance. I tried to go without it at Lowe's this week and after a short distance returned to the car to get it. It's not easy to navigate with a cane in one hand and an oxygen tank in the other. Rocky and I went to Lowe's together last Sat. to try to choose flooring for our bedroom, and it was a horrible, stressful trip. We won't try that again--one of us will have to make the choices.

But at Lowe's by myself and my oxy. tank and cane, I ended up driving one of the little carts around. Man, do those go slow! Sorta fun, though, and I didn't knock too many things over! I did sideswipe an advertising display once, though.

The reason we have been at Lowe's is we decided to take the advice our neighbor/contractor has been giving us which is to get rid of the carpet in our Master bedroom. So, to add to the stress of our lives, we are doing that. Rocky is sleeping in the guest bedroom and I am sleeping on a daybed that friends brought down into the family room from upstairs. I'll talk more about my shopping for a new mattress in a future post.

This one is long enough!

Where Did April Go?

I know that whining is inappropriate behavior for an old crone like me, but I just have to tell you of my latest experience of aging. I will try very hard not to whine!

The last picture I posted, the Cisterna Plum, may have been the proverbial straw, because on April 5 Rocky said, "Your flowering plum has the most beautiful fragrance; be sure to go out and smell it today." So I did. I poked my head into its branches, and then took its picture. Indeed, it had a delicious fragrance.

Later that afternoon, I could feel my chest tightening and my head stopping up. The next day I had a chest cough. With no fever, I kept self-medicating with OTC. By Good Friday, April 10, I was so short-winded that I could not make my bed without resting and actually hooked my personal nosepiece up to Rocky's oxygen, and sat in a chair using it all day long. By 5:00, I decided to call our doctor. When she heard I'd been using Rocky's oxygen all day long, she literally ordered me to go to the ER.

I followed orders and sometime after midnight was admitted to the hospital where I remained for the next eight days! Now, you know, in this day and age, if they keep you in the hospital for eight days, you must be some sick puppy. Or should I say, "old dog." But still no fever.

After three chest x-rays, a flu swab (that was a nosy experience), intravenous shots of steroids and antibiotics, they found no pneumonia or flu and diagnosed me with severe bronchitis and athsma. May I add, it was the first time I have ever had athsma. The first doctor I saw, shall we call him Dr. Don't Giveadamn, actually said to me, "I don't think you have athsma, so don't go around telling people you have athsma."

Sunday's doctor, Dr. Don't Speeka d'English, shed no light on the subject.

Monday's doctor, Dr. Handsome Rajah InAPureWhiteSuit, told me, "You have athsma with bronchitis." Woah, Rajah!!! "I was just told by Dr. Don't Giveadamn that I don't have athsma," I said. "The word athsma means wheezing," the Rajah said, "The bronchitis is the infection."

Ohhh!

Now they add insulin shots in my belly because the intravenous steroids are making my glucose levels spike, in spite of the fact I do NOT have diabetes. The nurses promise me that my glucose levels will go back to normal when the steroids are stopped.

I'm confined to my bed because if I get up, this little pad on the bed plays a little tune, and the nurse call lights up above my door. This means I have to have "assistance " whenever I get up.
But the first couple days I am happy to just lie there and let people wait on me. I remember thinking, "someone else will have to take care of Rocky now because I need someone to take care of me."

Poor Rocky did o.k. through Easter and the day after. Two friends brought him Easter dinner, and Paul and Diana Conco brought him up to see me. But by Tuesday, he couldn't keep up with chores anymore and he had an emphysema attack combined with back pain, and was admitted to the hospital through the ER that night. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that he had been complaining of progressive back pain, and on March 31 when we had our cholesterol check-ups, he told the doctor about it. She ordered an x-ray, with those results requiring an MRI, which showed he has a crushed vertebrae, a fresh fracture, and several old ones, all in the thoracic area.
The docs speculate that the massive doses of steroids he's been taking have caused his bones to deteriorate rapidly.

When Rocky was admitted, I went into social worker mode, and with the bed tray as my desk, the telephone and pen and tablet handy, I began finding resources for us and journaling our options. And while I was at it, I ordered a hair styler from QVC. (Daytime tv offers a lot of junk shows when QVC is the most interesting program to watch.)

Recently, I reviewed my experiences with my daughter, Sherry, over the phone. "I know I slept a lot," I said, "but I remember being awake a lot, too. I think I was alert."

"Oh, you were alert, all right," she said, "I thought the next thing I would have to do is to call in an exorcist!"

I guess I ran my mouth. And evidently, not too tactfully!

I do remember scolding a student respiratory therapist in training for acting unprofessionally when he turned his back on me like I was the "invisible patient," and proceeded to discuss campus politics with his supervisor.

And then there was the day they discharged Rocky, and the nurses and case managers got the benefits of my displeasure. I had been discharged on Sat. evening, and they discharged him the following Monday afternoon. A friend of mine had just arrived to be with me while I made some bigtime life adjustments. (My scoliosis kicked in after 65 years of being controlled, and I am now walking with a cane. Because the crooked spine is pressing against my lungs, I cannot get a really deep breath so remain short-winded and must use oxygen when I need to walk a distance or carry something.) When I objected, they told me I could put him into a nursing home. I hit the roof! I know he's 79 and they see him as an old man, but in my eyes he is my best friend and still a 44 year old highly educated newspaper editor. I had to ask three times before they would page the doctor. The doc spoke calmly with respect in his voice in spite of the fact that he wasn't going to change his mind. He, too, said that if I couldn't care for Rocky here at home, then he could be admitted to a rehab center or a nursing home. My reaction? "Doctor, would you want to sleep in a nursing home bed tonight?"

Well, I lost the argument and my friend, Norris, and I brought Rocky home that night. Poor Norris, who is only a few years younger than I and has her own health problems, didn't know what she'd gotten herself into. She worked really hard catching up our laundry and making dinners. Tuesday was rough, but then Wednesday and Thursday got easier, and she left Friday.

I will stop here, and tell you that we are doing o.k. I will give you more details in future posts.