Anything Goes - March 18, 2014

Greetings...

Since I "left" you last week, I had to "pop" into the ER again due to a an all around feeling of...bad. Not to worry, for once, this particular visit was a very important and productive one because one person, a respiratory therapist, took the time to talk to me about my "problems", health-wise, (nah, he can't do anything about the mental part of me)...

In the past four years of battling the COPD, not one person has ever explained how to really treat and deal with it and instead, I was left to my own devices to "figure it out", reading whatever I could and getting more and more depressed as I sunk lower and lower into the abyss of being a smoker and being treated like I was the cause of world hunger, global warming, world wars and well, you get the idea...

He was in charge of giving me all my breathing treatments and explained why I wasn't getting better like I normally do, especially after quitting smoking. It appears the first reason is the flu damaged some lung function and although it should rebound, it is slowing me down. He also explained a dozen or so reasons it's been a rough road for me, but gave me something no one else had done for me, give me HOPE that, while smoking has caused damage that will NOT get better, there's no reason why I can't get much better and live a semi-normal life. I say "semi-normal" because even he picked up that my life has all kinds of "crazy" in it. He gave me his card and told me to feel free to email or call him anytime if I had any questions. This is a first for sure. I can't begin to tell you how many horrible experiences I have had with doctors and hospitals because I smoked. Rude, ignorant, and after one doctor's visit in particular, I drove home crying my eyes out because I went for help and was beat down by a woman doctor who makes the Wicked Witch of the West look like Mary Poppins!

Anyhoo, he wants me to make an appointment with a pulmonologist, which I will as soon as I....(fill in any excuse you can think of)...Seriously, I will eventually, I've just been busy the past few days. Yes, I said "busy". With the info and medications I received, and the at-home breathing treatments I am doing regularly, not only has my at home oxygen been able to get turned down as my lungs start working on their own more and more, but I have been cleaning my house for the first time in a few years like I always did and if you recall, that was "fanatical", and I gotta say, never did it feel so good to be tired and sore from working around here!!!

My breathing has been up and down but thanks to the advice I received, I am able to control the moments when I experience the shortness of breath and then continue on with what I was doing. Boy, the things we take for granted huh? A few years ago, cleaning was so automatic that I never really imagined there would be a day that I wouldn't be able to do it until I was MUCH older. Sure, I could have gotten a cleaning service to help, but most women will understand the next thing I'm going to say and that is...

I would have gotten someone but needed to clean my house before they came!!!

Winston is doing great and has been a wonderful addition to our family. He is affectionate, smart, funny, and.... a sneaky thief!!! With the exception of Keno, and on occasion, Einstein, all of our dogs have always been very good about not taking one thing off the counter. Keno on the other hand was a bad boy when it came to food on the counter. Sticks of butter were his favorite, (he probably died of high cholesterol), he ripped off a whole turkey leg, t-bone steak, box of cookies IN a plastic bakery container and was only busted when I went in my bedroom and there he sat with Einstein with sprinkles all over their noses!

Ahh I miss my Keno and Einstein. I'm also wondering if it is a "guy thing" since none of my females have ever stolen food on the counter, although in all honesty, Ginger would occasionally walk by and stick her tongue out for a quick taste, kinda like an Aardvark...

Anyhoo...

I had a ziploc baggie on the counter with a few pieces of garlic bread I had made for dinner. While sitting in the kitchen, there was a "noise" and upon looking toward the noise, there was a big 'ole black and white dog quietly grabbing the corner of the bag and getting ready to "high tail" it to...wherever. He lost his grip because he must not have had enough in his mouth as he was trying to pull off the great garlic bread heist of 2014!

Heard the bag and jumped over there (OK, I'm not healthy enough to "jump" yet but you get my drift), and I have a talking to with Winston. He hung his head in shame and knew what I was saying. I told him to go into the family room and think about what he did (settle down, that part was a joke, I haven't totally lost it), but the point is, he went in there, lied on the carpet, and kept looking at me, then hanging his head in shame. He was in "doggy time out" and the funniest thing about this is Moosie watched the whole thing happen and it almost looked like she was shaking her head at him with a look that said...

"Dudeeeeee, you are about to get in bigggg trouble"!

I decided to use this as a learning experience and told everyone to "back away from the last piece of garlic bread". I left it on the counter and because criminals always return to the scene of the crime, I knew it wouldn't be long before the smell of garlic would penetrate those giant sized nose holes...

He did good and ignored the baggie every time he came into the kitchen and looked at me each time, knowing I had my eyes on him. He would gallop out of the kitchen and as much as I would love to say that was it and he learned his lesson, he was biding his time for something MUCH bigger and better!!!

That came in the form of a, (Chicago people will recognize the next name written), Rosati's deep dish pizza!!! In his defense, he only ate half of it... The sneak worked the box off the stove until it fell on the floor, opened up and served him up probably his first Chicago deep-dish pizza...

OK, Houston, NOW we have a big problem. Flyboy was gone and on his way home which is why it was on the stove waiting, but that's not the point. When Flyboy came home, he said, "I smell pizza, yummmmm", He opened the fridge and looked for it and of course it wasn't there, only a veggie one, which he doesn't care for. Sure I could have said something right away, but I was letting the excitement build as Winston comes running over to greet daddy. I told him to take a sniff of his buddy and there is where the wonderful smell of pizza can be found!!!

Men are so funny, they always look shocked when any of their "children" human or animal do stupid things. He talked to his boy and Winston left the kitchen when daddy told him to, but daddy forgot there are three different entries into the kitchen and Winston spent the next 5 minutes coming and going out of them all, which I admit, was funny and the only reason I guess I'm not as upset as Flyboy is I don't care for deep dish and my veggie pizza was safe in the fridge!

Hahahaha

But seriously, we have to break this habit pronto, I'm starting to wonder if Winston is one of those dogs that when you leave them for a few hours, you come back and you no longer have a couch! Check out You Tube and search for Great Dane destruction and you'll see what I'm talking about!

Moosie witnessed the Pizza caper also and to her credit, was not an accomplice. While we think of Moosie as the smarter of the two because he's the one getting in trouble, Winston is probably thinking...

If she's so smart, how come I'm the one with the happy pizza belly, AND these human folk may look mad at the time, my charming personality is enough to make them forget what I did while I plot my next move!!!

:-)

Questions? Comments? Email Jamie

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