Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Exit Lois - Enter Lois....or Out One Door and In the Other

Yuck.  Overnight I have gone  from "hanging in there" to "losing my grip".   Shit, piss, fuck.

 I have had an interesting/upsetting/off-putting week or two  and want to share some pieces of it with y'all.  It's either that or deafening silence which is not good for blogs.

The following couple of paragraphs are some groans and grumbles I wrote a week ago after a visit to my favorite Doctor, my cardiologist, who has saved my life more times than I can count. I was feeling punk and puny, my good hip had  begun to hurt and feel like it was broken and my vision....oh, my precious  vision had gotten so dreadful that I could hardly see anything.  I was in despair to say the least and had started counting my supply of Valium to see if I had enough to make a quick exit.........I do that sometimes and it makes me feel better in some ways. 
After the usual pleasantries (a hug and an EKG/Blood-Oxygen test/BP check) I waited to hear my fate. When the Blood-oxy registered quite low I sluffed it off as usual and reminded him that I had developed some exercises to cope with that condition.   He then  made me walk up and down the hall to the elevator and back and checked my Blood Oxygen level again, fixed me with a piercing eye and said something like, "Lois, your trouble is that you are practicing medicine with out as license."  I knew better than to protest.....this guy is GOOD.  Sigh.

No, no.....I have not been given a dreaded least no new is just that my blood/oxygen level has gotten a mite worse  (40 years of smoking does have its effects)   and  he sort of ordered me (though it is still my choice) to utilize the oxygen machine all day as well as all nite.  (I have been sleeping with oxygen since the broken hip episode). And what that means is that, in the twinkling of an eye I am no longer a free range chicken and am tethered to an oxy-generator by a long, long clear plastic tube which manages to get underfoot at every moment, wraps itself around the drawer pulls and not only opens drawers I did not want to open, but brings me up short as I stride around the manor and threatens to rip off my nose or otherwise seriously maim me.  A real pain in nose..... and the ass.

At the same time, my handy, dandy little oxy-meter by which I measure my level decided, after only 10 or 15 years, to act up thereby leaving me in suspense as to whether I am somewhat OK or in grave danger. Pfaugh!  I certainly named this blog correctly.  I have since ordered and received a back up meter.  That kind of thing is easy to just costs money.

Well, all I can say is that I am not a very happy camper right now as I learn new ways to cope with the latest.  Actually, it is not as bad as might be.  I can take it off when I go into the kitchen to mess around with food.  For one thing, I decided on my own that oxygen and flame are not good bedfellows and for another, that saves me from getting the hose caught on any one of the dozen or so drawer pulls and rendering me motionless with a jerk.  We must be thankful for small favors,,, I guess.

One positive thing that HAS come out of all this is that I find the extra oxygen seems to be helpful to my troubled vision.  That does not mean that my 20/20 sight has  been miraculously restored, but I think that it has paused in its diminishing.......a consequence to be devoutly grateful for.

So here I still am though in a somewhat more decrepit form.  Thank heaven you don;'t love me for my looks.


  1. Damned mortality.
    Glad you're able to bitch about everything to us.

    PS - I love you for your looks as well.

  2. My goodness girl you have certainly had a big stint at life and that takes its toll.(especially the smoking)

    I love it when you sound off as you are very funny, and we all know of course that it won't last forever which is one of those great mysteries. I am sure that you have a long way to go, but sorry to hear that the weeks have gotten to you a bit.
    Is the oxygen not portable?
    I don't mean to mock, you are beloved, but can't you put it on wheels or get a longer tube?
    Of course the chance of setting the kitchen on fire is a concern, Much like me when I'm

    I do hope my message cheers you up, as will all the regular followers messages of support yet to come.

    We all love you Lois, don't forget that...xxxx

  3. We have a bowler on our league who brings her oxygen along. It scares me to death every time she swings her arm back! So sorry you're going through this, and definitely hope your vision will get better. Smart lady. Keep that oxygen out of the kitchen, if at all possible. I'm pullin' for you!

  4. Hey, anything that keeps you going is worth it, especially if it improves your vision. If it can keep you from keeping count of valium pills, even better!

  5. Better living through oxygen... They do make small portable units (no larger than a medium size purse, and with that you can use shorter tubing.
    Love you ~

  6. I'm sorry to hear of your ills, but glad you are still blogging and able to drag that annoying plastic line around with you. Let's just use the Valium one pill at a time for a long while yet, okay?

  7. I did forget to mention that the first thing I did upon becoming hose/house bound was to call the med supply co. and trade in the backup oxy tank on a wheeled dolly for one of the new portable units I can carry on my shoulder like a purse. Hell, I still intend to go out to lunch sometimes not to mention the need to visit any one of my dozens of doctors......hey, by the way...what ever happened to house calls?

  8. Oh Lo! What a pain in the ... well everywhere.I really feel for you and although you are trying to write humorously ( well sort of )it must be really upsetting. Sending you a big hug. Sarah x

  9. Well partly I love you for your looks, but fortunately, I got real used to looking at someone I love with a cannula up her nose. We joked that at least it made it easy to find her, but she was forever whipping that 50 feet of tubing around like a cowboy in the ring. It was a tremendous pain in the ass but on the other hand she sure felt better with it on. I imagine all sorts of things besides your vision might improve at least a little. That's what I'm hoping.

  10. You'll be opera singing in no time at all what with all that portable oxygen to lug around. Sending you magic vibes!

  11. "For one thing, I decided on my own that oxygen and flame are not good bedfellows..." Cracked me up, quite literally. Lo on a leash sounds miserable, but anything that keeps your maverick of a mind around for us to enjoy, is a good thing. A damn good thing.

  12. My Uncle Bill was put on oxygen and it helped him tremendously. Hope you get even better results.

  13. well, shit piss fuck indeed! Darned bodies just don't last as long as we'd like them to. And they seem to require so much maintenance as things sag and droop downward. I understand completely dear friend. Hope you continue to feel better. I'll drink to that!
    Barbara and Daisy