I have recently been hospitalized partly over problems with the right ureter. I may, in fact, have a small kidney stone.
I’m sorry folks, but no one can tell me that the design of the ureter is intelligent. In fact, it seems to me to be a prime example of “Stupid Design.”
He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low, reassuring voice close to my ear.
“Just relax.”
Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my calves, slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn’t care. His touch was so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my rib cage. And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.
Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A man not used to taking ‘No’ for an answer. A man who would tell me what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say . . . .
“Okay ma’am, you can board your flight now.”
Modern English is the Wal-Mart of languages: convenient, huge, hard to avoid, superficially friendly, and devouring all rivals in its eagerness to expand. -Mark Abley, journalist (b. 1955)
I don’t wish the past week on anyone.
Here is a summary of the wonderful period. I shall be very limited in my ability to respond to anything for the next ten days or so.
Since I sort of left a few folk hanging, I feel they, in particular, should know why I sort of disappeared.
By Sunday afternoon, I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with a stomach ache. It continued to get worse. Actually, overnight I resorted to pain meds so I could sleep. On Monday morning I called one of the various docs I see about some relief. This became a travel thru over the counter meds. On Tuesday, I was directed to take some explosive ordinance for the situation. It finally worked. Wonderful, I had movement but my stomach continued to hurt. That afternoon my GP’s nurse suggested the ER. The pain in my lower right hand side of my stomach, plus a low grade fever suggested the possibility of appendicitis. Oh joy! My wonderful neighbor took me & my packed bag off to St. Peter’s.
Some 5 hours later I was wheeled in for my CT scan. Thursday was on doctor, PA, Resident after another. As I had gone about 5 days with little or no food and not much more sleep I was a little bit frazzled. The decision was that it was not appendicitis. However, I might have a small kidney stone. Oh yes, I needed bone scan as well. No food after midnight, but the hotel California, er, hospital decided I was able to have a liquid diet in addition to the IV. At this time I was also feeling a little bit like a pin cushion from all the blood samples I was asked to give. My veins, feeling a little bit put upon, began to hide from the various vampires in training. I believe, the worst time was someone trying 3 times in 3 different locations before striking blood. Also, being a delicate creature, all wombats are, not to mention Hobbits, the constant washing of my hands, the apparently very dry air in the hospital, turned my hands into very chapped objects. They were beginning to hurt as well.
Friday, I went off for a bone scan only to be told it was off as I was going to be in the OR, yes I did now about that & the radioactive juice would be flushed thru the urine. As the Operation folk would be working down there, this might not be a good thing to combine. Wusses! What are a few Rems between friends. Finally about 1330 I was packed of to the OR. The anesthesiologist needed 2 tries to get in the drip lead. We had a short natter about cricket & rugby as he was originally from Sydney. I was back among the living about an hour later. I was intubated which has left my throat somewhat raw. Basically, I was to relax, lots of luck doing that in a hospital, & I could head home on Saturday. I was able to get the nurse to obtain for me a 10mg Ambien. While I didn’t sleep much, I was relaxed and got some actual rest. Just a little bit less than what I was expanding in surviving there.
Saturday, I chilled out until I could leave.. I was finally wheeled down to the waiting room about 1345. I called another friend for a ride home. I finally reached home about 1500, cranked up the heat, & tried to unwind. My friend went off to the market to get me a few things. I needed some solid food, but not much after about a week of little or no food. I called a few folk to let them know I made it home. You know, after such a week of little or no sleep & little or no food, I am even less coherent that I usually am.
I was in bed by 2000. I only woke up a couple times, finally heeding my alarm at 0730. I still need lots more sleep. I had gotten enough sleep to let my body know about the rest of the sleep I’m messing.
I had some light meals & rested. I was now able to read while relaxing. For a few days I was so wasted, I just lie there. I couldn’t even read.
Tonight I shall be again in bed about 2000. I shall get up when I get up. If all goes as planned, stop laughing will you, I’ll get my bone scan, get the catheter removed [They are such wonderful things.], see about getting a few needed things done.
Here is hoping next week is better. J Well, it should be as I’ll be having some fine company.
So now you know the story.
I watched “The Girl Who Played With Fire” yesterday. I liked it.
I hope, to get the 3rd film in a couple weeks. Only 9 in front of me.
I thoroughly enjoyed the books as well.
Mystery fans, please come to ALBANY, NY, in 2013!
http://www.bouchercon.info/
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Bouchercon XLIV (2013) – Albany, NY September 19 – 22 |
Chair: Al Abramson
Lifetime Achievement: Sue Grafton
International Guest of Honor: P.C. Doherty
American Guest of Honor: Tess Gerritsen
Toastmaster: Steve Hamilton
Fan Guests of Honor: Chris Aldrich & Lynn Kaczmarek
Didn’t go to my doctor’s appointment. I guess, I could nt’ have gotten out, but no one answered at the doctor’s office. 3-4 inches of snow on top of sleet & freezing rain. Not nice. Left message and a request for them to call me so I can reschedule.
Advertising is legalized lying. -H.G. Wells, writer (1866-1946)
Soon spring will be here. Then one can say: Spring has sprung and the saps are uprising.
Life can be interesting. Years ago I suggested the word “Bytelock” to indicate the internet being blocked or backed up. It never did seem to catch on.
My interest in wombats led me to nickname the Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat as “Yaminon.” Yaminon is an Aboriginal name for wombats. I ran across it in “The Secret Life of Wombats,” written by James Woodford. This is an excellent book.
So I began the Yaminon Defense Fund, www.yaminon.org , to raise some money to help save/restore the Yaminon, which is the 6th most endangered mammal on the planet. When I was in Oz in ’07 I donated A$1000 to the chap who runs the research station at Epping Forest National Park in Queensland. I helped put up some of that chain link fence.
Googling the “yaminon” I note that not only Wikipedia uses the term, but so does a number of Australian animal sites.
Bytelock may not make it into the diction, but Yaminon, meaning the Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat, looks as if it will.
Such is life.
It Comes From Albany 