In Which Lo Surrenders to WhatThe HellCanHappenNext and Feels Somewhat Better

Urk!  Ugh! Aarrrgghhh!  and OY Gevalt!
also, Ouch, Oof, Yoicks and ShitPissFuck!
So here I sit in a puddle of[ tears and a pile of broken crockery.......the latter self inflicted in protest and childish petulance and to relieve some of the pressure
.
The sad fact is that I had to put my precious cat, Gussie down over the weekend and although I knew it was inevitable I had  been trying to postpone it as long as possible.  I finally realized that she was going downhill faster than I could stop it and, for both of our sakes,  I took her in to go across the Rainbow Bridge.    I am pretty good about such disasters but still I did weep and am still heartsore and craving some warm furry creature to hug and pet.   Saturday nite I actually took my TeddyBear to bed with me.........TB happens to be the only present my Father ever gave me.....I was Sixty(60) years old at the time and was still happy to get it, but that is another story.   I am considering asking Laurel, my Vet whom I got to adopt my tortoise shell kitty, Winnie, to rent her back to me for a while.  I am not sure I want to make another long term commitment right now....hell....at 86 what can I promise? 

So, I am wounded and fragile and shaken and all that on top of which the air conditioner in the bird room has chosen this very moment to croak, the ceiling fan/light in the garage, inspired  by the audacity of the AC, has done the same, one wheel on my garden cart decided to disintegrate,  my car battery, not to be outdone, just conked out....also the car AC is ailing and perhaps on its last legs, my precious reclining chair, without which I have no incentive to live, collapsed, the frame of my brand new glasses broke after only 3 days and had to be replaced by a more expensive pair,  and the market is out of stock on Twizzlers.........are my stars out of alignment or what?  There are even a few more serious disasters in process regarding the failing health of several of my nearest and dearest, but we will not go there today.

I am reporting all of the above mishigoss only to clue you in as to why I have been blogless for so long and also to let you know that I have not given up yet, but am still reeling and staggering around and putting one foot in front of the other occasionally.  Having had the recliner repaired (first things first) I have been spending a lot of time escaping into Books on Tape, meditation and just napping to shut it all out and remaining as motionless as possible to avoid causing any new disasters.

All of which reminds me of an old joke which I only partly remember.  About the guy who died and was being escorted to heaven by an Angel and as they were walking down a long hallway they passed a closed door from which issued dreadful groans, moans, wails and screams.    The man inquired about what was going on in there and the Angel said, "That's Hell" and opened the door to reveal an endless lake of shit, populated by an infinite crowd of people struggling to keep their heads above the shitline...... They were all pleading, "Don't make waves!"

We All Make Odd Choices and Heaven Help Us For Some of Them

Well, dammit, you WOULD  be an animal lover, wouldn't you?  You could have chosen to be a Justin Bieber Groupie or a lifelong devotee of  Humphrey Bogart or a Film fanatic in general, but NOOOO.......you had to become a pushover for the pet population and beyond.  Serves you right that you are suffering for  your foolish choices now.      Gaaaaaahhhhrrrr.

For several days last week I watched my precious Cat, Gussie limp a bit and favor her left forepaw while I worried and wondered and felt the damned paw up and down as much as she would let me and I knew I would have to take her to the Vet or not sleep ever again.  
So Ann and I went thru the routine required for the job.  Close all outside doors.  Close all inside doors to the room in which Gus was at the moment reclining.  Quietly as possi'ble fetch one of the cat carriers and introduce it into the Room so she doesn't see it.   Fail.  Gallop after Gus and pin her in the corner when she immediately guesses what was up and attempts escape.  Snatch her up and into the carrier before she could put plan B into effect.  On our way to the Vet  I mused that the problem might be an ingrown toenail since I had not had her claws clipped lately since I was too old and feeble and blind and clumsy to do it myself any more.....(at what point did she become so much stronger than me?   I somehow missed that subtle transition point.)  And to my relief and abysmal shame, that is exactly what it was.  One long claw had curved into a paw pad and must have been hurting like hell when she walked.  What a rotten Mother I turned out to be.......this would cost me huge .....A trillion in kitty treats not to mention endless hours of painful  immobility while providing her with a reclining tummy to doze on and being unable to scratch any part of me that itched or any muscle that cramped without disturbing her.  She is still demanding apologies from me and there is no sign of her letting me forget my heartless neglect of her well being.  Sigh.  At least she is no longer limping piteously and breaking my heartless heart.   And the  vet bill, including antibiotic shot and  blood test, was under $1000.    
Tenks Gott.

Then, without having the chance to recover from this episode the Pet God decided to smite  me with another heart wrenching situation.  I went in to bid my Fabulous Finches goodnite on Friday and, as usual, I proceeded to count birds on perches and in nest boxes and came up one short.  Omigod......where was Judy the smallest female, Mickey;s beloved?   I immediately began examining he floor of the cage for signs of the dreaded Egg Bound Female Syndrome and there, in a corner was the pathetic little creature barely moving and seeming to pant ever so slightly.  Panic time.  This condition was usually fatal and I had no skills as an avain midwife.  Desperately I thrust my hand into the cage and seized the poor mite, brought her out into the light, examined her, petted her feathers, scratched her neck whispered sweet nothings and prayers into her ear and put her back hopefully.  Nothing.  Still seeming to be dazed, almost comatose she sat and sat and sat.  

I had already ruled out the idea of finding a Bird Vet, especially in the middle of the night so I called the breeder where I had gotten her and asked for advice.  I was told to grab her gently, check for a lumpy looking lump in her nether parts under her tail feathers and, if found, to squeeze it gently to break the egg and the impasse.  I did all that, found no lump and when I squeezed gently anyway all I got was some poop for my efforts.  Tearfully, I replaced her in the cage, spent 15 minutes meditating and sending good thoughts her way and finally staggered off to bed thinking my usual cop out thought.....'que sera, sera".   
Barely slept and upon rising went in to look for a corpse only to find all four birds sitting on the perches looking, as far as my untrained eye could tell, alive.  

When my caregiver arrived we both examined the creatures and she said that poor Judy seemed to have no feathers along her back  between her wings and she suspected some sort of family brawl.  (I had not seen this condition but had felt something strange in the texture of her back as I petted  her)  One or more of the other birds must have ganged up on her, plucked out some feathers and left her in a state of birdy shock and post traumatic distress    WTF???.   Apparently I have got myself a dysfunctional bird family.  Or perhaps just a normal bird family since, I suspect, all families are dysfunctional to one degree or another.  Careful scrutiny since has indicated that Judy is mostly OK if temporarily short some plumage and tempers seem to be calm along Finch Lane.  
Oy.  In fact, Oy Gevalt!


Excuse me while I go in and put cold cloths on my head.  I just had to go out and shut off the pool motor because water was pouring off my roof. I think the raccoons have once again chewed through the tubing on the solar panels which heat my pool water.  No one can come till Monday.   I think I should have opted to be a Justin Beiber groupie.

You Can't Fall Off the Floor So There's No Way to Go But Up

Aaaaarrrrgh!  And OY !   (No, no, not what you think.....this is good news).

I have digested all your comments and just realized that I seem to  have left you precious folk wringing your hands over Lo's pitiful plight and not only is that NOT what I intended ........(I was sort of creating an  excuse for  myself for not blogging) but it is also last week's news. 

Not that everything has suddenly turned rosy....in fact I continue to  be deluged with sad reports from hither and yon, but my own bleak despondency seems to have lifted and I am just coping with whatever comes along pretty  well right now. 

I  have measured my own sack of troubles against those of some others and realize that I am really very damned lucky.  While I am dreadfully sad about  what my friends are having to go through,  my own spirits are actually OK and I have great hopes for me.  I promise I will blog again soon and may even say something funny.

Thanks, darlings for hangin' in with me.  Be of good cheer.  As I have said oft before.....more later.

In Which Lo Decides She Might As Well Crawl Out From Under the Sofa

Grokkkk!   Auuuukkkkk!  Qweeeesgh!
Those are the sounds emanating from the throat of this unkempt, large, moulting bird struggling wildly while being slowly strangled by her own ineptitude and wondrous powers of procrastination and denial among other things.   I have just decided Enough Already.  I must put away my disappointment, disillusionment, distress and disgust at the machinations of the insane and unkind world and Murphy's Law and raise my bod up to keep on schlepping.

It's like this.

First,  I found to my great disappointment that I am not a candidate for the new wonder surgery to implant a telescopic lens in my macular degenerated eye.  I nearly qualified but it seems that they cannot do the procedure on anyone who has had cataract surgery.  Hells Bells, as my Daddy used to say.......I can hardly believe that there is a person over 75 (condition #1) who has NOT had cataract surgery.  Well, that took care of that dream.  But, the Doctor took pity on me and decided to refer me toyet another specialist......one who prescribes glasses for low vision patients.  So how come he didn't think of this months ago?   Dun't esk.

So, after another  4 hour excruciating examination (they are all at least 4 hours)   complete with the brightest lamps known to man being shone into my eye and drilling holes into my brain and innumerable additional photographs of my decrepit  macula ( how many pictures of one's macula does a person really need, fercrissake?)  and being assigned a prescription for  some lenses that may actually make it possible for me to read AND having my bank account depleted in a horrific fashion, I finally staggered home to await the new glasses in a week or 10 days  equipped only with the most expensive lighted magnifying glass known to humankind to get m  e through the interim.  That's the disillusionment, distress  and disgusted part.

Now, do not for one moment think that I am not grateful as hell for what vision I do have.......believe me, I am.   But you know what greedy, ungrateful wretches we humans are.  We always want MORE.

And speaking of ungrateful.......I am still not recovered from the disillusionment I suffered when my usually trusty caregiver presented me with the results of weeks, or perhaps months, of her labors to carefully transcribe the illegible entries in my aged personal phone book onto stick on labels using a felt marking pen and paste them onto pages in a newly prepared loose leaf binder with alphabetic separators and everything.  You cannot imagine my perplexity, puzzlement and volcanic rage when I eagerly seized the new tome and opened it to look up a phone number only to find that,while I could actually read the entries I could not find anything I was looking for.  It was only after 3 or 4 minutes of mumbled oaths and groans that I figured out that she had organized the entire book by FIRST NAME.  Oy.

No, there was no bloodshed, nor even any harsh words.  I am a totally civilized (read hat as beaten down, defeated)  soul.  I simply asked her gently why she had chosen to do it like that and she was just as flabbergasted as I had been and had absolutely no answer.  I decided that the book, as it was, would be useful in case the dreaded Dementia struck and I forgot the last names of everyone I know.   In fact, it was particularly good when I needed to look up one of my multitudinous Doctors since they were all neatly gathered under D (though not in alphabetic order....but never mind).  We are now working on Version 2 in which I will alphabetize the labels before they get applied to the pages......sob.

And after all that I have decided to finally crawl out from under my rock and temporarily rejoin this meshugina world...........don't  ask me why....I have absolutely no answer.....God help us all!

Put Down That Damned Shovel and Stop Digging - I Am Still Here (Barely)

I can guess what some of you may have been thinking.....no word from me for weeks..no word from Gussie...not a peep from the Fabulous Finches.........ominous.

Sorry if I have worried you or if you have felt deprived.  I have been showered and overwhelmed with various varieties of dung and have not yet dug myself out.  (toss me that shovel you were using to dig the grave.....I could use it.)

I do not believe this trial by shit is going to prove fatal, but it is taking all my focus and energy so don't give up on me...... I will be back.

Just do not want you to worry.

Love,
youknowwho

Pome About a Few of the Blights of My Life

You know what I hate?  I hate Emoticons
I find them infantile
and puerile
 and ugly to boot
and that's the troot.
I consider them quite totally offensive
and reprehensive.

I think that the person who invented them
or first presented them
should be forced to have them tatooed over every inch of their epidermis, both exposed and hidden
and then they should be tied naked to the back of a horse and ridden
through the downtown of every city of 50,00 or more regardless of the weather
and people should be encouraged to get together
and throw overripe fruit and tomatoes
and hurl lewd remarks and insults and threats at them
and shame and scare the  bejesus out of them.

And as for the ones people make out of innocent punctuation
they are equally silly, irritating and require eradication.
Only difference is that while being equally deplorable and unadorable
They are at least a bit more ignorable.

So I say Faugh on all who use them.....those "pictures" are for the birds....
What in the hell is wrong with words?

And for my next number
I want to see the complete disappearance of the use of  "lol"
And may everyone who ignores my plea be sentenced to eternally trying to eat an ice cream cone
in Hell.


The grumpy, rhyming Lois has spoken.

The Difficult Art of Seeing What Is In Front of You By Looking a Little to the Side

If you hang around this corner fairly often you probably know that I have been having terrible trouble with my vision for a long time.    I developed  a condition called wet macular degeneration I am not sure how many years ago and lost all central vision in my left eye in that initial attack.  I still have peripheral vision in that eye so I can find my way around a familiar room using it,  but it is not good for any kind of serious seeing    I can almost see everything I am not looking at  (if you can wrap your mind around that indigestible nugget).  A year of participating in the final FDA study of the drug Lucintas (which involved monthly visits to get a shot in my eyeball for a year......yes 12 pokes in the eye with a sharp stick) sadly though it stopped further damage it did not help my condition though many of the other people in the study had great improvement and the drug is now available.
 
At the time my right eye still had good vision though it showed signs of developing what they call dry macular degeneration....a less destructive variety but still a very bad thing.  Ever since, despite drinking gallons of fresh carrot juice and taking all the supplements known to be friendly to the eyes, my good  eye has gone steadily downhill.  Little by little the window of my clear vision shrank till,at this time, I can only see a single key on the keyboard or about 3 letters at a time in the word Microsoft....so I have to read it mic.....ros.....oft and put the groups together in my mind and hope they make sense.  At the same time, the little window has developed a mist which gets foggier each day so seeing the important stuff clearly has become a huge struggle.....a real pain in the ass, you could say......no, much worse.  Oy.  

I am not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me.  Sympathy is nice, but pity and suffering once removed is useless and a dreadful waste so please, don't feel my pain.    I have, of late, been living day to day, still able to  barely seee on the computer  because it is backlit, unable to locate the cursor unless I let my peripheral vision find a moving object,  and not sure even  how long that will last.  Have not figured out how I would live if I were to completely lose the central "seeing" vision in my good eye .......I am a fantastic problem solver,  but I have not figure that one out yet.   We just won't go there, OK?   BUT.....

A friend sent me an article announcing that the Hospital and Med Dept at UC Davis has developed  a telescopic implant which enables people with an impaired central macula to SEE by focusing the vision away from the bad spot in the center to the side where the macula is healthy.  It told of a success with an 89 year old lady, an artist, who had lost her vision and had it restored by this implanted lens.  "Holy bejeebers", I said, or words to that effect.  And of course, I proceeded to look into this immediastely, if  you will pardon my loose use of the word "look".

My plan was to somehow get on the top of the list up at UC Davis, even if I had to bribe/convince them of my worthiness by giving them all my money......(no use trying to sell my body anymore).   However, after ceasing to jump up and down and before starting the exhausting business of trying to get through to the right department and the right person at UC Davis, I decided to consult with my own high powered Retinologist to get his opinion about the procedure and, lo and  behold, I found that not only does he approve of the procedure, but that he actually is performing it right here in his clinics in Los Angeles.  Now if all that ain't a fucking miracle, I don't know what is.

I have an appointment at the end of July for a consult with him to see if I am a candidate.  The article stated that they were only performing the procedure on folks who were over 75.....I sure as hell qualify, and on the dry macular degeneration......right on again.  I even rushed to my Cardiologist to have him check me over to be sure I could undergo surgery and got a thumbs up.  To say I am excited would be ridiculous.  There is no word for the degree of hope and the degree of fear I am experiencing.  Fear only because I would hate to lose what little sight I still have if the operation should fail..... but I will find out the odds and then take my chances.

Meanwhile, if you know anyone with macular degeneration, please tell them about this new procedure.  I will post the website with the article at the bottom of this post.  After 10 years of saying "no" when people ask me,  "Can't anything  be done to help you?" it seems there is finally a YES - MAYBE answer to that question.

Do spread the word, please!

http://www.ucdmc.ucdavis.edu/publish/news/newsroom/6949