Typical trip to the emergency room for me

The following blog is an example of one of my typical trips to the emergency room since I have developed heart failure. Thankfully I haven't been in 2 years although I definitely should have gone several times. I know the routine when I get there and except for shocking my heart I can do the samething for myself at home. This is just a reprint in honor of "Go Red for Women" month to raise awareness about heart disease.

Well I had to go back to the ER the other night and they kept me overnight. Basically it was the heat but it really messed with my heart. They gave me fluids, 12 potassium pills(10meq each whatever that is, but I know it is alot) and a magnesium IV that burned my whole arm. I was also introduced to the joys of morphine. I have always turned it down and I did that night too but they gave it to me anyway this time. It cured every problem I ever had and I spent half the night giggling to myself. I did not hallucinate which is why I kept turning it down. I thought it would make me hallucinate. I don't think I will ever turn it down again.

I have had 6 weeks of fun, doing whatever I wanted unless I was too tired. It was good to pretend I was normal again but 6 weeks is the usual amount of time that it takes me to wear myself out and end up in the emergency room. That has been the pattern of my life for 2 years now. The really sad part is apparently they cancelled my medicaid coverage. I thought when I got my disability that I wouldn't have this problem anymore. Oh well, I guess I will put it on my list of things that I can't do anything about and not worry about it.

I will call my dr. Monday. I am lucky to have him. He knows I pay will pay him as best as I can and he will see me without the medicaid. I need him to explain the results of all the tests that they ran. I am tired of them running tests and not giving me the results. They keep saving my life but I can't pry my test results out of them. The nurses just grunt or lie when you ask them a question and the doctors pretend that they don't understand English and smile for the 30 seconds that you see them.

One of my friends started complaining about the length of her stays in the hospital waiting room. I have never once had that problem. I walk in the front door (or arrive in an ambulance) and tell the front desk that I need help getting to the ER. They take one look at me and load me in a wheelchair and wisk me to the back. This time the ER must have been full because they brought a EKG machine out to the waiting room and checked me right there after they took my vitals. It wasn't too much longer I was in a bed in the ER. It took about 3 hours for them to get me to a bed upstairs. My EKG line was very squiggly and uneven this time, the worst I had ever seen it. I don't know what it means but I do know that it is supposed to be evenly spaced and uniform.

MIKE TYSON SAVED MY LIFE!

I was in New York City on my way to see the Lion King. It was freezing outside. All of a sudden 2 men jump out of an alley and grabbed me and my friend and dragged us back into the alley. I was covered with ice and snow from being dragged and Sherri was screaming her ass off! They were yelling that they wanted money while they were going through my purse and ripping my coat off. I was telling them to just take the purse and go while trying to get away. It was awful.

All of a sudden one of the guys goes flying backwards and slams into the wall and kind of just slides down to the ground. I look over to see a big black guy beating the living daylights out of the other guy. He looks and me and yells at us to run. I grabbed Sherri's arm and we took off slipping and sliding in the snow to get away. I got a good enough look at the guy-my hero-to recognize who it was though. IT WAS MIKE TYSON!

We ran to a nearby coffee shop and called the police. By the time they got there and checked the alley everybody was gone. I tried to contact Mike Tyson but there was no way for me to do it. So here it is - Thank you Mike Tyson for saving my life!

This whole blog was a lie. I thought Mike Tyson could use a little good publicity and I wanted to try to write a little fiction!

Our Greatest Accomplishment...

had to be the clubhouse we built one year. It was the summer of the 5th. grade and we had just moved into the new house that my parents had built and there was all kinds of scrap lumber left over. So me and Billy and Rhonda and Rusty and Sissy decided to build a clubhouse.

This was no ordinary clubhouse. It was a masterpiece of architecture (even though it actually looked like a shanty) We not only had a second floor but we had a balcony that extended over the riverbank. The actual house was about chest high to a fifth grader. We of course had a ladder (sometimes a ramp - but it kept breaking) to the second story. Part of the second floor was under roof also. We spent the entire summer building this clubhouse.

Even when we ran out of lumber we kept pounding nails into it. There was one board that was comprised entirely of nails. It looked like a sheet of metal. One day I was sitting on the balcony and it collapsed underneath me. It didn't go crashing to the ground though, it just kind of swayed to the side and I rode it down to the ground.

Then there was the infamous hammer incident. I threw the hammer to Sis one day and it hit her on top of the head. Luckily she lived although I still hear about it to this day.

The most awful day was the day my mom made us tear it down. I had scratched my back on one of the many nails that poked through the boards. That was all the excuse she needed to destroy the greatest thing we ever built! That was also another thing that I still hear about to this day because my back was the offending culprit that instigated the "big tear down"..

If you're going to correct my English...

at least do it in a proper manner. I was working for a man who was a gawd awful crack addict. He was in the middle of a rant one day and the subject came up about my use of the word "y'all". Here is what he said to me:

"Y'all, what the hell is y'all. Don't you hillbillies know that the proper word is you'uns."

I could stand it no more. "You'uns," I yelled back at him. "What the fuc% is you'uns. If you're going to correct me then the least you can do is to use proper English, which by the way would be you. That is all, just you, singular or plural! You'uns! You are an imbecile!"

He was from Boston. Apparently they say "you'uns", which is short for "you ones." That definitely makes no sense to me - especially in the plural sense.

I opened my closet...

to the sweet, clean smell of Gain detergent. I stood there for a minute just letting the fresh scent waft into my nostrils...

IT MADE ME HAPPY!

i need to do a commercial for that stuff!

A Day in the Life of a Greyhound Trainer

Everything starts with first turnout. Everybody out to stretch their legs, relieve themselves and just start the day. Then...

1.on a good day just put them in the sprint field and they will run and play.

2.on a bad day run with them and inspire them to run when they don't want to.

3.on a fun day trick some kid into running with them, who thinks they are having fun

7am -

1.check previous night's racers for injuries

2. make sure tonight's racers are fit

3. take care of sick and hurt dogs

4. weigh today and tomorrow's racers.(all dogs have to be within 1 1/2 pounds of a set weight or they can't run - if they can't run then you lose money and you get fined then they can't run for 10 days which costs you more money and you have to official school them back which is another race for no money)

8 am - feed them. most bitches get around 2 pounds of feed a day, most males get 2 1/2 to 3 pounds a day. racers get a little snack in the morning. (food looks like a giant bowl of cabbage roll stuffing after you mix it - beef, rice, vegetables, stress dex (electrolytes), Purina high pro dog food is the basic mix - everybody has their own magic formula.

9 am - 2nd. turnout.

1.do beds if you didn't do them first turnout

2. everybody is relaxing after a good meal

3. keep on pooper scoopin'

10 am - clean kennel and pens, go home

twice a week you have morning schooling. this is where you put new and recovering dogs on the track at different distances. you have to hold them and let them go when the rabbit goes by and then run to the finish line and catch them before they have a chance to run off. if you are lucky you have help to do this. it adds approximately an hour to your morning.

3 pm - afternoon turnout. usually the longest most relaxing turnout.

1. everybody goes outside to clean out and stretch their legs.

2. usually racers have a separate turnout so that water can be regulated.

3. weigh and snack racers

4. pick up pens again

6 pm - official weigh in

1. turnout and check racers weights one more time before loading dogs in truck to go to track

2. take dogs to track where they are weighed and their tattoos are checked to make sure the right dog is there

3. official schooling is twice a week. pups and dogs working back from injuries or whatever are raced at official distances in front of the judges to prove they are ready for official races. this takes about another hour and a half - usually until 7:30 when official races start.

7:30 to whenever you are finished racing

1. pick up all dogs in races and cool them out by hosing them down and walking them and giving them water. You can have as little as one dog in (rare) or as many as 10 or so, it just depends on the luck of the draw.

2. do night turnout. everybody goes outside again to pee and stretch their legs for a half hour to an hour depending on the weather and your race schedule. more pooper scoopin'!

3. after races are over feed and check racers for injuries. turn them out to pee and rest a little outside.

4. go home (it is somewhere between 11pm and 1 am and you have to be back at 5 in the morning to do it all over again.

this schedule in all it's variations is done 7 days a week - 365 days a year. if you are lucky you have help. if you don't have help you do it anyway. there is no racing on Christmas and Thanksgiving but you still have to go to the kennel and take care of the dogs because they don't know it's a holiday. (all 4 turnouts, all day long)

you don't do this job for the money although the money is good. (actually everybody gets a salary because you work 70 to 80 hours a week) you do this job to be with the dogs. it is a way of life - not a job!

motto: if you want a job with 9 to 5 rules then get a job with 9 to 5 hours!

Oh, I forgot, 3 matinees a week in the afternoon (1:30 to 4:30) - so you can't go home a take a nap!

Bruno, Who?

I once had a boss named Bruno for a couple of months. He was a nice guy. He was from Switzerland. I used to enjoy listening him talk to his girlfriend on the phone in Swiss(?). It kind of had a sing song tone to it. Anyway...

Bruno was leaving for another job and I was saying goodbye to him. All of a sudden he reached over and laid one hell of a kiss on me. It took me completely by surprise, in fact I was so surprised that I didn't stop him. My friend Samantha was standing there and she died laughing. When the kiss was over he just turned around and walked away - never to be seen again.

Sam and I went back to the commissary and everybody was hanging out in there including my husband, Bobby. We were both smiling at each other and one of the guys asked me if I had seen Bruno leave. Sam and I burst out laughing and she said, "Boy, did she ever!" I laughed and said, "oh, yeah!" This of course got everybody's attention including Bobby's.

I said, "He said bye and then he gave me a bad case of rug burn with the kiss he gave me!" Sam was rolling in the floor by this time and everybody started laughing and of course turned to look at Bobby. Bobby was standing there with a big forced smile on his face and bobbing his head like he had a habit of doing when he was irritatedtrying to take all the good natured ribbing he was getting. (he knew there was no way that I had anything at all with instigating that kiss) After a couple of minutes of the guys hooting and hollering, Bobby excused himself. Then of course they started to kid me about being in trouble but I wasn't worried about it. Bobby and I trusted each other.

I didn't see Bobby all day due to conflicting work schedules. That night when I got home he had dinner waiting and flowers and we had a wonderful lovely night together. Every so often though throughout the evening at strategic moments he would ask, "Bruno?"

I would just reply, "Bruno, who?" He worked hard at making me forget that kiss from Bruno and it was one of the most romantic nights we ever had.