tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67664563574371107662024-03-04T01:18:31.210-06:00MyanderingsSandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.comBlogger733125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-58739991527232514052024-02-10T23:33:00.004-06:002024-02-10T23:35:34.357-06:00Bright Spot<p> My son-in-law, Rusty, died yesterday. He was, for 14 days, the same age that I am. My bright spot? That my daughter's most terrifying threat is no longer an option.</p><p><br /></p><p>Julie, who will be in charge of my nursing home, threatens me. First, it was with a state-run nursing home. Then, it was with a state-run nursing home in a state other than Texas. Finally, it was -</p><p><br /></p><p>"I'm gonna put you and Rusty in the same nursing home, tell them that you're married, and y'all can share a room!"</p><p><br /></p><p>Neither Rusty nor I thought that this was a great option.</p><p><br /></p><p>Now it is no longer an option at all.</p><p><br /></p><p>Thank you, Rusty and rest in peace.</p>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-34829644093294909722023-06-12T22:13:00.000-05:002023-06-12T22:13:20.381-05:00Faith of a Child/aka another generation of fishermenI am sure that I have written/shared this before but when I went to reference it, I could not find it. Hence, I am rewriting the story of CJ and the fish.<div><br /></div><div>When CJ was little, 4 or 5ish, his grandpa and I took him camping to Lake Greenbelt. CJ was POSITIVE that he would catch a fish. When I asked why he was so sure, he said that it was because he had talked to God about it. Trying to temper his expectations without destroying his faith in God, I tried to explain unanswered prayers, etc. He was adamant that he WAS going to catch a fish.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fast forward 2 fishless days and we were striking camp and getting ready to go home. I was putting the last of the stuff in the pickup and the guys were policing the shoreline. CJ excitedly ran back to camp clutching the half decomposed carcass of a fish. "Look, Grandma, I caught one!" I honestly did my best to be impressed. </div><div><br /></div><div>His next sentence? "Next time, I'm gonna remember to tell God that I want a live one!"</div><div><br /></div><div>We all need that kind of faith.</div>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-19941870674310345702022-11-24T13:48:00.000-06:002022-11-24T13:48:06.933-06:00Thanksgiving 2022<p>For me, this will always be the year of thankfulness.</p><p><br /></p><p>I was going to list the people and places for whom I am thankful but was terrified of leaving out someone important and dear to me and hurting their feelings. So, I am going to just forge ahead and hope that all of you can identify the category(s) you are in.</p><p><br /></p><p>First and always, for God, His mercy and His grace.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for my biological family and for the grace on all sides that allowed me to become reconnected with some - and hopeful for the rest. It also just occurred to me that I include, in that description, the kids and grandkids that I inherited. There are no distinctions in my heart.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for my work family who make my life livable. Their love, care, and willingness to change things at the drop of a hat to accommodate my ever-changing medical appointments is amazing. I thank God each and every day for every single one of you.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for my church family. I have not been as present as I should be but I know, beyond a doubt, that I am in their prayers and that I am uplifted spiritually and physically by those prayers. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for all of my prayers warriors.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for Julie's two cats (inside joke.)</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for the town in which I live. Aside from the town I grew up in, I have never lived in a place with more generosity of spirit or better neighbors.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for the medical resources available to me. I cannot speak highly enough of BSA, the Harrington Cancer Center, Amarillo Surgical Group, and the Wound Care Center. </p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for the non-profit, volunteer groups in this area, especially for the Hereford Cancer Coalition and all of the ancillary volunteer groups at the Harrington Cancer Center. Having people who know what you will need before you do is an absolutely underrated gift.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am thankful for friends.</p><p><br /></p><p>I am often frustrated, terse, overwhelmed and angry. I am grateful for the ability to feel these things and for God's grace to find the good in every single day.</p><p><br /></p><p>And always, for Juls, who has made the gagging motion at least 27 times if she is still reading and who understands where sympathy can be found. Thank you for taking such good care of me.</p><p><br /></p>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-70661605813286057202020-09-28T10:44:00.002-05:002020-09-28T10:44:36.887-05:00bunker bitches<p> This is going to be fairly long so a little background in order that those to come will have a context in which to put this. In the year 2020, there is a pandemic. There is also a lot of civil unrest stemming from race issues and perceived, as well as factual, police brutality.</p><p>A young woman was killed accidentally by police during the execution of a search warrant in Louisville, KY. Out of the 3 officers originally being investigated, the Grand Jury saw fit to hand down an indictment on one, citing him for "wanton endangerment." The City of Louisville has already settled with the family of the deceased for $12 million dollars. </p><p>The protesters continued protesting but the rioters - the looters and pillagers and destroyers of other peoples' property in the name of justice - lost their little minds.</p><p>They, a loosely knit conglomeration of disaffected and disenfranchised and mostly unemployed (except for those paid by "they"), people decided to lay siege to the Louisville Metro Police Department. Among the many colorful things that were shouted by the rioters was "Fuck the police and the bunker bitches, too!" </p><p>I do not know who decided to call us that but I would like to thank them. We, and I do mean dispatchers as a whole, have embraced the phrase. Bunker Bitch. It just rolls off the tongue alliteratively. It is powerful. It is not very nicey-nice.</p><p>It is us.</p><p><br /></p>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-5005733514401249222019-11-18T18:30:00.001-06:002019-11-18T18:30:49.660-06:00Survival ModeFor those of who are reading this and don't know me, my husband of 34 years died in June. We had lived separately for more than a few years but were still married. I moved home 3 years ago to help take care of him as his health was failing and, to quote a friend of ours who called me 3 years ago, "whoever that person is who is supposed to be taking care of him, she's not, so get your ass home." I did.<br />
<br />
By the time Shorty died, he was suffering from end stage renal failure, congestive heart failure, COPD, an enlarged prostate, hemocratic anemia, orthostatic hypostension, diabetes, and cancer. He was also hard of hearing and had at least 3 eye surgeries. I am not looking for sympathy or nominating myself for martyrdom. I am just stating facts.<br />
<br />
For the years that I helped take care of Shorty, I was the young, healthy one. I am overweight but I am/was healthy and never needed any medical attention other than the normal seasonal stuff.<br />
<br />
Today, I am at work, but I am going to the doctor when I get off work. I am pretty sure that I have shingles, which, by the way, hurt like a bugger and itch and sting and are fiery little points of hell. My ulcer, newly diagnosed, may be bleeding or at least leaking a little. <br />
<br />
I have been in pain since Thursday night but had no other symptoms, like the rash, until this morning.<br />
<br />
I cannot decide if this is a case of nurture (God) or nature(my own body.)<br />
<br />
I am grateful that I was strong for as long I needed to be. I am not grateful that it did not last forever.<br />
<br />
Amazing what a little mind over matter will do for you. Maybe I need to find another dying person to take care of...and yes, that WAS sarcasm.<br />
<br />
Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-44811101279718967882019-10-10T19:27:00.000-05:002019-10-10T19:28:13.518-05:00How now?I am not sure if I just used to have more to say or if I just got out of the habit of blurting every thought that crosses my mind. <br />
<br />
I was getting my oil changed the other day and attending to a myriad of "it'll wait till my days off" errands when it occurred to me how much my life had changed.<br />
<br />
When I first got married the final time, my fingernails were so long that not only could I not button my own buttons, I typed one row down on the electric typewriter at work. It was actually in my wedding vows that I did not have to do anything that would cause me to break a fingernail.<br />
<br />
When my husband left on a trip, he filled both vehicles that he was leaving at home and, when their gas tanks were empty, he came home (from New Mexico to Nevada) to fill them up because "I didn't pump gas."<br />
<br />
When he went back to New Mexico, he told me that I could quit my job when it quit being fun. They promoted me at work to a position that I had not applied for and did not want. He called me that night and I told him that it had quit being fun. He came and got me.<br />
<br />
I look back at those days now and wonder what the heck I was doing. If you wonder where my kids are in this story, one was taken from me by her paternal grandparents and the other was in a residential school for children with emotional problems. <br />
<br />
I wonder now that I thought so little of my kids, and so little of myself, that I could be had for an unblemished manicure and a life of being "taken care of."<br />
<br />
That life ended a long time ago but the marriage ended when death us did part. It is time now to figure out who I want to be, how to get there, and how to let go.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-65715413216650207082019-10-02T17:47:00.000-05:002019-10-02T17:47:09.400-05:00OctoberIn my world, October is the month of birthdays. My brother's is the 2nd, my youngest grandson is the 24th and my youngest daughter is the 28th. <br />
<br />
It is the month of homecoming games, football rivalries, mums, and Friday night lights.<br />
<br />
It is the month of spiced apple cider, chili, casseroles, and hot cocoa.<br />
<br />
It is the month when dogs, lethargic through the dog days of summer, pick up their pace on morning walks, shying at the falling leaves and avoiding the puddles left by isolated thunderstorms.<br />
<br />
It is the month of layers - in clothing and bedding.<br />
<br />
It is the month of open windows and closed screens when the nights are cool enough to sleep comfortably and the mornings warm enough to not freeze.<br />
<br />
It is one of my favorite months.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-26837022364798491622019-09-27T13:50:00.000-05:002019-09-27T13:50:09.759-05:00Where did the week go?No apologies. It's been over a week since my last post.<br />
No excuses. It's been over a week since my last post.<br />
<br />
No great feats have been accomplished. No major hurdles have been leapt. No great obstacles have been overcome.<br />
<br />
I am well. I got to dispatch my first pursuit since I came back to Hereford. It went as smoothly as it possibly could have. No one was hurt. The bad guy went to jail. The stolen vehicle went back to it's owner. It lasted 40 some minutes and was really, really fast and I absolutely live for that stuff. The adrenaline high is just now wearing off. Some people have an adrenaline dump. I just savor mine and try to make it last.<br />
<br />
Molly is well. She is not happy but she is physically well. She is pouting because I won't let her eat the cat.<br />
<br />
Clyde is well. He is not happy but he is physically well. He is pouting because Molly keeps trying to eat him every time he comes near me.<br />
<br />
Bonnie is well. Bonnie is a Chihuahua and doesn't care about anyone but herself.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-69535548384140779412019-09-18T10:10:00.001-05:002019-09-18T10:10:19.010-05:00Previously Unknown TraditionMy brother, Richard, served in the US Army during the VietNam War. On his first trip back home after basic, he unloaded his duffel bag. Now, my brother is a very tall man. Very tall. My mother told the story for years about how he brought home a good half dozen uniforms, none of them the same size and none of them his size.<br />
<br />
Fast forward 50 years, give or take. My grandson, CJ, recently completed Infantry School at Fort Benning, GA. On his first trip back home after graduation, he unloaded his duffel bag. My grandson is now taller than I am but not as tall as my brother. His mother can now tell the story for years about how he brought home a good half dozen uniforms, none of them the same size and none of them (with the exception of his dress uniform) his size.<br />
<br />
Don't even get me started on the boots.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-15318178996367525802019-09-09T22:41:00.000-05:002019-09-09T22:41:56.441-05:00Writers writeI worked today and I worked yesterday. 12 hour shifts do not leave much time in my day or room in my brain to blog. I used to could and I might could again, but I don't seem to be able to now.<br />
<br />
I am off tomorrow and then Julie and I are flying to Fort Benning to watch the boy - he will always be the boy - "turn blue" and graduate Infantry School. I could not be more proud if he was my own. He knows that he is not college material and he has always intended to be military. I always wanted him in the Navy. It's harder to hit those targets far out at sea. He declined to join the same branch of the military that his father was in. Either way, it's an honorable calling and I am proud.<br />
<br />
His maternal grandfather (that would be my ex-husband) will also be there. Manners, civility, and cordiality will prevail - or Julie will beat us both.<br />
<br />
I hope to write more when my brain recovers but in the meantime, just know that I am back.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-50527595949047379902019-09-07T07:58:00.001-05:002019-09-07T07:58:49.442-05:00Bonnie goes to work<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLCuM9ZM32sxqaE1RuDKAsGyvmayg9zHgvrEod7RNpSmRFAtZRfPBDgeNYvDa-vakY3ysAF1n9-ji5DBer5FriswQE3kPLSOaucKNIsZgWPhTnCerekdewj0t8xgbqFu1JUSwXy0xqWU/s1600/20190907_073417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="781" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLCuM9ZM32sxqaE1RuDKAsGyvmayg9zHgvrEod7RNpSmRFAtZRfPBDgeNYvDa-vakY3ysAF1n9-ji5DBer5FriswQE3kPLSOaucKNIsZgWPhTnCerekdewj0t8xgbqFu1JUSwXy0xqWU/s320/20190907_073417.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
Bonnie came to work with me today. There are new tenants moving into Shorty's apartment and every time the door opens, she loses her frickin' mind. She will adapt. We will all adapt. But for today, the new neighbors will not be unnecessarily annoyed and Bonnie will not be unnecessarily stressed. Me and my officers? Well, there is that. I am stressed and they will undoubtedly be annoyed before the day is over. She is an annoying little dog. But so far, so good.<br />Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-63921343827276605412019-09-06T14:24:00.000-05:002019-09-06T14:24:54.073-05:00No longer a go-alonger" No, Daisy came from a favorite movie character forgotten by all but a few gray-haired Streisand fans: the goofy, sweetly innocent, chain-smoking go-alonger Daisy Gamble in Vincente Minnelli’s 1970 On a Clear Day You Can See Forever." from an article about pet names<br />
<br />
I am one of the few "gray-haired Streisand fans" who remember and love this movie. I was unable to find a video clip of the go-alonger scene from the movie. I was looking for it because, in the last few months, I have determined that I am, in fact, a "go-alonger."<br />
<br />
Since Shorty died, I have been contemplating who I am now. For 34 years, I have been half of "Shorty and Sandy." Now, I am just Sandy. I just have to figure out who that is.<br />
<br />
Things I know.<br />
<br />
I am Julie and John's mom. I have two other kiddoes, one of whom I don't claim and one who does not claim me.<br />
<br />
I am grandmother to a gaggle of grandkids. I am close to some and not close to others.<br />
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I am a Catholic.<br />
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I am a "Licensed Telecommunicator" or, as I prefer to think of it, a pretty darn good 911 dispatcher. My daughter has promised to tell me when I cease to be pretty darn good. <br />
<br />
Things I have realized.<br />
<br />
The first Harley I ever got on was Shorty's.<br />
The only Harley I ever got on was Shorty's.<br />
I got my motorcycle license so that Shorty could still ride, even if he couldn't drive.<br />
I have not been on the Harley since my kids and grandkids left after Shorty's funeral.<br />
I have several tattoos, none of them Harley Davidson inspired.<br />
Anyone besides me noticing a pattern here?<br />
<br />
Yep. I loved Shorty and I like Harleys. I do not love Harleys. I do not need to own a Harley.<br />
<br />
I need to cushion my bank account, learn a new language, see the ponies swim at Chincoteague, and blog consistently. <br />
<br />
Talk to y'all soon. I think I'm back - or at least on the way.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-82748143433046671702016-03-27T18:38:00.001-05:002016-03-27T18:38:51.749-05:00Molly, from rescue to snobMolly is a snob. When I am not at home, Molly, for the most part, parks herself in the middle of my queen size bed directly under both the ceiling fan and the heater vent. Since I got Molly last July, I have been rotating between two bed covers. Both of them are cotton or cotton/silk blend. This is not by design. I bought them because I liked them. <br />
<br /><br />
Recently, I purchased a new comforter online because I liked both the pattern and the price. It arrived, I washed it and put it on the bed. Molly refuses to get on the bed as long as this comforter is on it. The only reason that I can deduce is the fabric from which it is manufactured.<br />
<br /><br />
Princess Molly objects to polyester.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-35422163566772190182016-01-04T07:25:00.000-06:002016-01-04T07:25:17.923-06:00Molly - the New YearMolly has turned over a new leaf for the New Year. She has also turned over almost everything in my room. The other night, I heard a rustling in my room, raised my head, and saw her with her nose inside a magazine on the floor next to my bed. I raised up, made eye contact with her and sternly said, "not yours." I then flung my medicated self back to bed and went soundly to sleep.<br />
<br /><br />
I woke up to 5 destroyed magazines, several destroyed pieces of mail, shredded underwear, shredded pajamas, shredded workpants and a very tired puppy.<br />
<br /><br />
Know what wasn't touched? The one magazine that I told her wasn't hers.<br />
<br /><br />
We will be fine.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-57114407953502327372015-11-09T21:00:00.001-06:002015-11-09T21:00:01.624-06:00Nov 9<p dir="ltr">At work and sick...just didn't want to miss a day. </p>
Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-37007707467773510272015-11-08T19:08:00.001-06:002015-11-08T19:08:06.301-06:00November 8<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ozpdBvB0hek" width="459"></iframe><br />Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-89048116018284935532015-11-07T14:56:00.000-06:002015-11-08T14:56:56.917-06:00Nov 7/StarbucksLast week, Starbucks unveiled their holiday cup. It is, as always, red. That's it. It's red. Normally, it is red with some sort of embellishment - leaves or snowflakes or ornaments. This year it's just red.<br />
<br /><br />
I have no problem with this.<br />
<br /><br />
A lot of people evidently do. This is some sort of subversive, anti-Christian plot to take Christmas away from us.<br />
<br /><br />
Seriously?<br />
<br /><br />
It's just a cup, folks. It's red. Take your magic marker and put whatever the heck you want on it.<br />
<br /><br />
<br />Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-25381621419277352832015-11-06T11:57:00.001-06:002015-11-06T11:57:57.486-06:00Nov 6<p dir="ltr">I drove down to Amarillo today to get my military ID card renewed. I'm also going to go to a photography exhibit with my daughter while I'm here. And I remembered how many things make me smile. Molly dragging my $40 blanket around because she's decided it's her bed made me smile today - it went from my bedroom to the living room to the sunroom where hopefully it will stay for the rest of the day. The sight of two Osprey hovering above Bell Helicopter made me smile and feel protected. Sitting in a warm car and watching the wind blow made me smile. I think I'm getting better.</p>
Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-65413686442267110732015-11-05T10:04:00.004-06:002015-11-05T10:04:48.171-06:00Nov 5/friendsMany, many years ago in a galaxy far, far away there existed people known as bloggers. I was one - hence, the blog. It was an interesting time to be alive. Through synergy and synchronicity and sometimes just luck, you were able to find people that you connected with.<br />
<br /><br />
They might not live near you. They might not be your age. They might not have anything at all in common with you except one teeny, tiny thing. They became your friends. We wrote our stories and other people read them and commented on them - not just one or two word comments but entire sentences. Sometimes even paragraphs or, if the thought was a private one, an email might be sent.<br />
<br /><br />
I have not blogged for a long time. I have been seduced by the ease of Facebook. Thankfully, so have most of my blogging buddies and we have managed to keep in touch through Facebook. <br />
<br /><br />
I received private messages on Facebook today from not just one, but two of my blogging buddies just to check on me because I didn't sound like me.<br />
<br /><br />
I love you both.<br />
<br /><br />
Thank you.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-31372036113353817362015-11-04T20:01:00.001-06:002015-11-04T20:01:48.338-06:00Nov 4/the party's over<p dir="ltr">That would be the pity party, y'all. Not my style. Not going to wallow in it long enough for it to become my style. Today was a lovely gloomy fall day and when the wind swirled, there were colored leaves dancing upon it. Life is good.</p>
Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-53883522912647608212015-11-03T09:31:00.000-06:002015-11-04T09:32:50.857-06:00Nov 3/Kill or no-killThis is where I stir up a hornet's nest I didn't even know I had to think about. No kill shelters for animals - good thing, right? Shouldn't even be an issue, right? I thought that for years. Now? I'm not so sure.<br />
<br />
<br />
I adopted Molly 4 months ago. For the 4 months prior to that, she was at a shelter. Prior to that, she had been abandoned, with her sister, when the people who owned them moved. Her collar had to be surgically removed at that time.<br />
<br />
<br />
I keep waiting for Molly to become mine. Molly is not mine. She does not greet me when I get home. She does not hang out in the same room that I am in, ever. She does not consistently come when called and, if she does, lingers just out of reach. She does not come to me when I cry.<br />
<br />
<br />
She does not do these things for anyone else, either.<br />
<br />
<br />
She bolts for the bedroom if a door slams anywhere in the neighborhood. She will not go through a doorway if the shadows have changed from the first time she went through it. She lives in constant fear. She is with me at night only because, in her mind, my bedroom is her room. It is where she hides.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have never seen a less happy dog.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am not suggesting killing her. I am merely putting forth the theory that if the no-kill shelter does nothing other than keep the animals alive, it might be doing them a disservice.<br />
<br />
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As for me and Molly - we will keep on keepin' on.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-12240196180440380802015-11-02T11:30:00.001-06:002015-11-02T11:30:42.105-06:00November 2Things are grey right now. I have a dog who is not at all demonstrative which bothers me more than it should.<br />
<br /><br />
I have a dear friend in California who is having medical problems. I am trying to figure out how to go see her while seeing her is still an option.<br />
<br /><br />
I also have a husband with medical issues for whom I cannot care. We separated several years ago. To the best of my knowledge, he has since stopped the behavior which was the reason for my leaving. However, he has since joined an outlaw motorcycle club.<br />
<br /><br />
This is a huge issue to me. I cannot be around this kind of crap.<br />
<br /><br />
Meanwhile, he has stage 5 kidney disease and will soon begin dialysis, which requires minor surgery and then a month of almost constant dialysis (in home) before it becomes something that must just be done every night.<br />
<br /><br />
I cannot be there. I have so many times over the years given in, given up, just plain given to him. I cannot be there.<br />
<br /><br />
So, I will, as next of kin, go to his doctor's appointments with him. I will go to dialysis training with him. I will be there for his surgery.<br />
<br /><br />
So will his "friend" who will be in my house taking care of him.<br />
<br /><br />
I feel like Eeyore and the Saggy Baggy Elephant had a child and I am it.Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-84027716328343946492015-11-01T16:29:00.001-06:002015-11-01T16:29:58.985-06:00I miss the Duck<p dir="ltr">Molly will never be the Duck. That's fine. She can just be Molly. But yesterday, when I was crying and she looked at me and left the room, I missed the Duck. </p>
Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-43815360518985266902015-07-19T08:39:00.001-05:002015-07-19T08:39:00.988-05:00Molly 2<p dir="ltr">This is Molly after 1 week. She's still very skittish. She's still very afraid. She does know her name. She knows that she is loved. And she is pretty sure that she will not be hurt in this house.</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxkYlp0l-VOJTvFV3mkNhK5vV1lSkC10qt2N-5VFYLlmHWVfJmoyKbIw8bWFIqF65-hEiuGF0UQyiK8rlcicPXV3alTRFUf1XxUdP8DPMOnQdzkxuNbnW4VLq4gEVa5l21qKDCimN2k8/s1600/IMG_20150718_201923160.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxkYlp0l-VOJTvFV3mkNhK5vV1lSkC10qt2N-5VFYLlmHWVfJmoyKbIw8bWFIqF65-hEiuGF0UQyiK8rlcicPXV3alTRFUf1XxUdP8DPMOnQdzkxuNbnW4VLq4gEVa5l21qKDCimN2k8/s640/IMG_20150718_201923160.jpg"> </a> </div>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6766456357437110766.post-29839953045100298502015-07-19T08:36:00.001-05:002015-07-19T08:36:44.898-05:00Molly<p dir="ltr">This is Molly when she was new</p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlwLvyosppAzmezd_7ljO1Of2oUU3kYHZBOyIvfnniuaTbyCr37NeOQFZYHK9koBEc0kg_XSCS8Q6TMsT0x0n0UBnpAmMHU2cUEIKAdjOh6PQ56mgnFTsqdUDgGD9lAbnSek_KxNOZQI/s1600/IMG_20150719_083533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTlwLvyosppAzmezd_7ljO1Of2oUU3kYHZBOyIvfnniuaTbyCr37NeOQFZYHK9koBEc0kg_XSCS8Q6TMsT0x0n0UBnpAmMHU2cUEIKAdjOh6PQ56mgnFTsqdUDgGD9lAbnSek_KxNOZQI/s640/IMG_20150719_083533.jpg"> </a> </div>Sandyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01727506305170439878noreply@blogger.com1