The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints.
We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses & smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, & pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom & hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon & back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods & slow digestion, big men & small character, steep profits & shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw away morality, one night stands, overweight bodies & pills that do
everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window & nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you & a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete...
Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up & leave your side.
Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart & it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember, to say, "I love you" to your partner & your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss & an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands & cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! Give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:
Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Things are looking good!
My incision is doing beautifully. I just want to keep it that way. I went in Monday and had the staples removed, and my doctor was happy with how good it looks. He ended up putting these surgi-strips over the incision and told me to keep them on for a week or two (until they started peeling off). That didn't happen. Tuesday rolls around and I am itching beyond crazy. I take a closer look and I had blisters forming under the tape, from the friction of the tape pulling on my skin. I had to remove the ones affected, and then by Wednesday I had to remove 2 more. Korina calls me and she asks how I'm doing, then she freaks out telling me to be "really careful" with not having the tape on. Of course that makes me freak out, and I attempt to put my own gauz tape where the others had been. By last night, the remaining 4 wanted to come off as well, so I replaced them too. I guess I could have left them all off, but then, the thought of my incision busting open because I move wrong, has me scared. So now, I have tape back on, and am waiting for the blisters to heal, but things are good. Lol.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Don't you hate that!?!
I always hate when I want something that I can't have! And boy, have I found the perfect example of that! It has always been a dream of mine to own a bay Arabian. I found one I love for a really decent price. But wouldn't you know it...I already have two horses that I don't get to spend enough time with now days, and we just don't have the means or room for a biggie. :( But I'm in love!
http://horsetopia.horse-for-sale.org/classifieds/ad294724
http://horsetopia.horse-for-sale.org/classifieds/ad294724
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Shouldn't be doing this!
I try to stay away from this topic, but I've been bambarded with it a lot recently, and well...I need to say my piece, then I'll be done with it!
I have stressed that I am not a religious person. What I mean by that is...I do not claim nor go to a church. I also do "some" bad things that I know are against God (cursing, watching R-rated movies that aren't Godly, and yes, the "occasional" white lie). BUT does that mean that I don't have a relationship with God? Why does everyone assume that I don't, just because I don't go to church? I probably talk to God more than alot of church goers do, and I TRY to be a really good person, I just fall short in some areas.
The reason I don't go to church is because I don't have very much faith in the human race. I can worship and nurture my relationship with God at home, rather than be surrounded by all the religious people I know who claim to be Godly, yet they are the poorest examples I know. Everyone I know slanders other people, can't stop gossiping and being competative with others, they refuse to forgive their own family members, allow their children to run wild, go out and drink/party with friends in clubs and bars, have anal sex (and claim that it's ok as long as it's between a husband and a wife), curse, lie, watch movies they shouldn't be watching, and wouldn't help a soul in need if it didn't benefit themselves. All the while, they try to preach to and condemn me, as if they're more righteous than I am.
I am sorry, but just because someone goes to church, does not make them Godly. You have to practice what you preach! You also can't hide what you're doing wrong from God, no matter how hard you try to do hide it from your fellow man or church. I believe in the Bible. I believe God's word. Do I feel that the Bible is man-made? Of course! It tells you that it is, based on men's accounts with God. Do I feel that it has been tampered with throughout all the centuries? Possibly. I do feel that there are other books that were either ommited from, or weren't added to the Bible for whatever reason. I also feel that some things "may" have been changed throughout these thousands of years, to benefit man or religion. But the important thing is...I believe most of it still stays true to what God wants of us. I don't feel that man has altered it enough, for us to not be able to figure out what is right or wrong.
And that's another thing that bothers me. I don't understand how some people can believe in God, yet claim that the Bible is "man made" and that doing something that the Bible clearly calls bad, "would never be against God". If you don't believe in the Bible (any Bible) as being God's word, then what is the point of believing in God to begin with, or going to church? How can you worship something you don't believe the word of, or believe that you've heard the word of? I think that these people reject God's word simply because it conflicts with what "they" want to believe.
Religion is such a difficult issue. It seems like you can never be good enough to those around you, yet what it all boils down to, is if you're good enough to God. I just wish that people would stop condemning me for not finding the "correct church".
I have stressed that I am not a religious person. What I mean by that is...I do not claim nor go to a church. I also do "some" bad things that I know are against God (cursing, watching R-rated movies that aren't Godly, and yes, the "occasional" white lie). BUT does that mean that I don't have a relationship with God? Why does everyone assume that I don't, just because I don't go to church? I probably talk to God more than alot of church goers do, and I TRY to be a really good person, I just fall short in some areas.
The reason I don't go to church is because I don't have very much faith in the human race. I can worship and nurture my relationship with God at home, rather than be surrounded by all the religious people I know who claim to be Godly, yet they are the poorest examples I know. Everyone I know slanders other people, can't stop gossiping and being competative with others, they refuse to forgive their own family members, allow their children to run wild, go out and drink/party with friends in clubs and bars, have anal sex (and claim that it's ok as long as it's between a husband and a wife), curse, lie, watch movies they shouldn't be watching, and wouldn't help a soul in need if it didn't benefit themselves. All the while, they try to preach to and condemn me, as if they're more righteous than I am.
I am sorry, but just because someone goes to church, does not make them Godly. You have to practice what you preach! You also can't hide what you're doing wrong from God, no matter how hard you try to do hide it from your fellow man or church. I believe in the Bible. I believe God's word. Do I feel that the Bible is man-made? Of course! It tells you that it is, based on men's accounts with God. Do I feel that it has been tampered with throughout all the centuries? Possibly. I do feel that there are other books that were either ommited from, or weren't added to the Bible for whatever reason. I also feel that some things "may" have been changed throughout these thousands of years, to benefit man or religion. But the important thing is...I believe most of it still stays true to what God wants of us. I don't feel that man has altered it enough, for us to not be able to figure out what is right or wrong.
And that's another thing that bothers me. I don't understand how some people can believe in God, yet claim that the Bible is "man made" and that doing something that the Bible clearly calls bad, "would never be against God". If you don't believe in the Bible (any Bible) as being God's word, then what is the point of believing in God to begin with, or going to church? How can you worship something you don't believe the word of, or believe that you've heard the word of? I think that these people reject God's word simply because it conflicts with what "they" want to believe.
Religion is such a difficult issue. It seems like you can never be good enough to those around you, yet what it all boils down to, is if you're good enough to God. I just wish that people would stop condemning me for not finding the "correct church".
Monday, June 23, 2008
Evolution of Dance
This will take you back a few years, but I promise you won't be sorry! Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg
Friday, June 20, 2008
Lessons from the Geese
There is an interdependence in the way geese function.
FACT: As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "up lift" for the bird following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew alone.
LESSON: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going quicker and easier because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.
FACT: Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to fly alone. It quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the "lifting power" of the bird immediately in front.
LESSON: If we have as much sense as a goose, we will stay in formation with those who are headed where we want to go.
FACT: When the lead goose gets tired it rotates back into the formation and another goose flies at the point position.
LESSON: It pays to take turns doing the hard tasks and sharing leadership-people, as with geese, are interdependent with each other.
FACT: The geese in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
LESSON: We need to make sure our "honking" from behind is encouraging, not something less helpful.
FACT: When a goose gets sick or wounded or shot down, two geese drop out of formation to follow him down to help and protect him. They stay with him until he is either able to fly again or dies. Then they launch out on their own with another formation or catch up with their flock.
LESSON: We also need to stand by each other.
FACT: As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "up lift" for the bird following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew alone.
LESSON: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going quicker and easier because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.
FACT: Whenever a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to fly alone. It quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the "lifting power" of the bird immediately in front.
LESSON: If we have as much sense as a goose, we will stay in formation with those who are headed where we want to go.
FACT: When the lead goose gets tired it rotates back into the formation and another goose flies at the point position.
LESSON: It pays to take turns doing the hard tasks and sharing leadership-people, as with geese, are interdependent with each other.
FACT: The geese in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
LESSON: We need to make sure our "honking" from behind is encouraging, not something less helpful.
FACT: When a goose gets sick or wounded or shot down, two geese drop out of formation to follow him down to help and protect him. They stay with him until he is either able to fly again or dies. Then they launch out on their own with another formation or catch up with their flock.
LESSON: We also need to stand by each other.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Taz growing up
I was shocked when I got back from the hospital and saw Taz. He grew up some much in those 3 and a 1/2 days I was gone. He RUNS around the house now, attacking anything that moves. I also saw him and Binx play and they get rough. He's not my little baby anymore, he'd rather spend his time playing with the big kids. :(
He's also still refusing to eat dry cat food. He is so hard headed, you can tell it's a boy!!!
I thought I'd post a few pics of him that were taken this past week.
He's also still refusing to eat dry cat food. He is so hard headed, you can tell it's a boy!!!
I thought I'd post a few pics of him that were taken this past week.
Since surgery
I was finally able to blow my nose yesterday. You never know the things you take for granted, until you can't do them anymore. Today, I can cough almost half way to capacity. I'm able to get in and out of bed without having to hoist myself up, and I can walk almost at normal speed. I just can't stand for a long time, and my back is killing me from sleeping on it.
I am happy to say that as of this morning after I ate breakfast, I have lost 12 pounds since last Thursday. My eating habits are really weird, but I hope that it's a good thing and it will give me motivation after I heal, to lose weight. I get hungry constantly, but can only eat a little bit at a time. I guess my hormones are trying to go back to normal and my metabolism is in high gear. I also haven't had a soda in a whole week. Yippee. Not by choice but because I can't handle the carbonation yet. I hope that will become a habit!
Sleeping is still strange too. I stay up until midnight, sleep a few hours (4 or 5), and then wake up and watch TV for an hour or two. Then I go back to sleep for another couple of hours. I can't seem to break that habit yet. I feel oddly rested.
I also long for a shower! They told me that I can shower anytime, but they also STRESSED the importance of keeping the incision as clean and dry as possible, because the moistness can cause bacterial growth. So for now, I am sponge-bathing and Mark has to help me wash my hair in the sink. Ugh! And my hair is STILL in a braid. I stopped wearing braids when I was in 6th grade, and it's been put in one everyday since surgery. I feel like such a dork, but at least I'm tangle free. :)
Every day is getting easier though, and overall, surgery was no where near as scary or hard as I thought it would be. I still wouldn't do it, just to do it though. ;)
I am happy to say that as of this morning after I ate breakfast, I have lost 12 pounds since last Thursday. My eating habits are really weird, but I hope that it's a good thing and it will give me motivation after I heal, to lose weight. I get hungry constantly, but can only eat a little bit at a time. I guess my hormones are trying to go back to normal and my metabolism is in high gear. I also haven't had a soda in a whole week. Yippee. Not by choice but because I can't handle the carbonation yet. I hope that will become a habit!
Sleeping is still strange too. I stay up until midnight, sleep a few hours (4 or 5), and then wake up and watch TV for an hour or two. Then I go back to sleep for another couple of hours. I can't seem to break that habit yet. I feel oddly rested.
I also long for a shower! They told me that I can shower anytime, but they also STRESSED the importance of keeping the incision as clean and dry as possible, because the moistness can cause bacterial growth. So for now, I am sponge-bathing and Mark has to help me wash my hair in the sink. Ugh! And my hair is STILL in a braid. I stopped wearing braids when I was in 6th grade, and it's been put in one everyday since surgery. I feel like such a dork, but at least I'm tangle free. :)
Every day is getting easier though, and overall, surgery was no where near as scary or hard as I thought it would be. I still wouldn't do it, just to do it though. ;)
Pictures of my ordeal
I will spare you guys the graphic details of my actual incision, but these pictures should be safe. ;)
This is my hospital room, the couch in the back made out into a bed for a guest.
My TV and sink, along with my privacy curtain.
My bathroom, which had a toilet and shower.
View from my window. This is some of the hospital's other wings.
This is the ABC/Disney company. I also had a lovely view of a HUGE cemetary in the background (the green lawn). I wonder if you could buy a 2-for-1 deal, die at the hospital and be buried across the street.
One of me, while in my bed.
Some of my bruises which hurt almost as bad as the incision....
The arm the woman dug around in, trying to find a vein.
The bruise left from my arm IV (along with the bruise above).
A better view of the IV bruise.
And a bruise on one of my legs from the compressing socks.
This is my hospital room, the couch in the back made out into a bed for a guest.
My TV and sink, along with my privacy curtain.
My bathroom, which had a toilet and shower.
View from my window. This is some of the hospital's other wings.
This is the ABC/Disney company. I also had a lovely view of a HUGE cemetary in the background (the green lawn). I wonder if you could buy a 2-for-1 deal, die at the hospital and be buried across the street.
One of me, while in my bed.
Some of my bruises which hurt almost as bad as the incision....
The arm the woman dug around in, trying to find a vein.
The bruise left from my arm IV (along with the bruise above).
A better view of the IV bruise.
And a bruise on one of my legs from the compressing socks.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
They thought I died!!!!
I'MMMMM BACK!
As bad as my ordeal has been, I think it has been worse on my family. I guess I'll share their story before I share my experience. Friday morning when we got to the hospital, we had to sit in the family waiting room for about 45 minutes before I was called back (I'll explain later). We watched as several doctors came in, found the family they were looking for, and either talked to them there or escorted them to right outside the door and spoke with them. After I went in, my family eagerly waited for any news about me and watched as the doctors continued to come in and speak to the families. I had two surgeons work on me, and my female surgeon came in. She looked my family in their face, then diverted her gaze to the ground as she approached them. They asked her if everything went well, and she responded with "we should wait until we can speak with the other doctor", but she would not look them back in the face. Instead she walked them out of the waiting room, into a room across the hall where they had 3 chairs waiting. They said that they feared the worst, and that they were shaking really badly, and my mom felt like she was going to pass out. My surgeon came in, and reassured them that I was fine and everything went pretty well. I remember being at the vet's when they pulled my husband and I back to a private room to tell us that they lost my rat Nemo on the operating table. I know how scary it is, and my husband no doubt remembered that experience at that time. I feel so bad that they had to go through that.
Ok, so here's my story. It's a long one! On Thursday (the day before surgery), I had to go to the hospital to do a type and screen, in case I would have to have a blood transfusion on the table. When we arrived (we arrived early), I was nowhere in Admitting's computer. So I had to wait in the waiting room until someone put me in the system. This really nice guy came out and called me back, where he asked me a bunch of questions and I signed paperwork. Then he told me to go to the lab, to do my blood work. I walk to the lab, and wait until I'm called. I had to walk down this long hallway to get there, and when I walked in, they informed me that I needed a work order from my surgeon (which I was never given!). I had to wait 15 minutes until my surgeon's office opened, then I had to walk over there and wait for an order to be made. The receptionist was rude and freaking out because "she shouldn't be the only one there". My doctor himself came out to give me the work order. Of course he's in the process of trying to leave because I think that's the day he should be at another hospital 10 minutes away (he works out of two hospitals). So we walk back over to the lab, and they read me back the spelling of my last name, and they forgot an "e". So they tell us to go back to admitting to get it fixed because one tiny little mistake can have dier consquences. We walk all the way back through that long hall and I'm talking about getting the run around when we attempt to leave the "lab admitting". The girl there tells us that she can fix it. 10 minutes later, I'm finally able to give my blood! What should have only been a 20 minute visit turned into 2 hours of the run around. Not a very good way to start my surgery experience!
Friday rolls around and we make the 112 mile drive. It was stressful because my mom was driving behind us, and she had never driven it before. We arrive at the hospital 20 minutes early, are sent straight up to the surgery floor, and they can't find my EKG (which I had done on my own, my surgoen's assistant told me I didn't need it but I thought it's better to be safe than sorry) or my Chest X-ray. At this point, being the second day that things weren't going right, I began to get pissed. I "personally" handed those to Korina, and so help me, if she lost them, she'd better hope I died on the table before I could get to her! So anyways, about 45 minutes later, after Korina had to refax them up to the surgery floor, I was called back. The first step was to give blood for some test. I had already given blood twice that week, so that wasn't going over really well, and I questioned them on why I needed to do it AGAIN. The woman who took me back there had no friggin clue what she was doing, and she attempted to get blood from my arm. I told her before she ever started that out of 4 years of giving blood, NO ONE has ever put a needle in my arm because NO ONE has ever found a vein. She didn't believe me, and she was the first one to attempt it. There was surprisingly no pain when she put the needle in, but I watched as she dug it around back and forth, hoping she'd find a vein. After a minute of not locating anything, she pulled it out and went to my hand. She should have listened to me to begin with and we could have saved 5 minutes.
Then I was taken to this room, where I had to put on a gown. OK, let me explain something, this was my first ever hospital experience, and I had no idea how to put on a gown. I ended up putting it on backwards, where it opened in the front. Plus it was too small, so here I am trying to cover up my parts, when the woman came in. She told me that I had it on wrong and right then, Mark walks into the room. I instantly turned away, and not even a second later, my brother walks in. I scream that I'm not ready, and my brother turns around and leaves before catching a potentially very humiliating experience. She tells them that she'll send for them when it's time, then she gets me a larger gown (that fit wonderfully). By this time, I've calmed down and I'm not really scared. Just anxious because I can't wait to get it all done and over with. I answer all her questions, and I lay down on my bed, and she puts the IV in my hand, to start my anitibiotic treatment. Then she tells my family that they can come back and see me.
I talked with them for a while, and my doctors came in to see me before the procedure. Then my mom and brother decided to leave. I think she was having a hard time holding it together. As she was walking out, she started crying, which made me cry. It was the first time, I had cried. She said she loved me and I could barely choke the words back out to her. Shortly after she left, I stopped crying and talked to Mark for a while longer. Then the lady who was going to give me the anestisia came in, and told us that she was going to give me a memory blocker for the pain before surgery. Mark left shortly after she did. It was hard saying goodbye, and praying it wouldn't be the last time.
Then came in the lady to wheel me to the operating room. Along the way, another girl joined us and she put a cap on my head. It was just like the movies, where you're wheeled down that long lonely hall staring up at the lights. (Actually pretty cool!) Then we enter the operating room, where there are a couple of other girls, one who is wearing lots of makeup and looks several years younger than me. Then I feel it...a slight itching in the back of my neck. I scratch it, and in the wake of the itch mark, is a burning streak of HOT pain. I start itching on the other side too, and I ask if something is wrong, as I scoot over to the operating table. The nurse acts a little startled and then another nurse comes up and tells me that I'm experiencing something called "Red Itch" or something like that, from the antibiotic. Something to do with it counteracting with something else they gave me. Then she tells me that it should go away because my sedative should kick in shortly. I thank God again for the wonderful life he has given to me, and look at the nurse with all the makeup on. I remember thinking how I liked it, and watching the nurses rearrange the lights over the table, and then nothing. The next thing I know, I'm coming to in a room with a blonde lady buzzing around me, taking my vitals. I ask her what time it is and she said 4:00. My surgery was supposed to be at 11:30, and it got started about 45 minutes late. That means it had to be longer than expected. I glide in and out of conscienceness, until I wake up and this really hot guy is to my left. The nurse tells me that I'll be seeing my family in a couple of minutes, and then I'm being wheeled out of recovery and into the elevator.
Then we get to my room. I'm barely awake at this point, and the hot guy is still on my side. I hear him leave the room and ask for someone to come in and help him scoot me over to my bed. Someone tells him that he is strong enough to do it, and I hear him say "I don't want to break my back".
That would be the one thing I would be conscience enough to hear. He comes back into the room with another woman and I tell them that I can move myself over (hoping he felt like an ass!). Sure enough, I scooted myself onto the other bed by myself. Then I went to sleep, and awoke to my family coming into the room. The day was jumbled, although I can remember some of it. My mom and brother stayed a while, and then left. I remember holding that little clicker button for the pain constantly, and I had started pushing it the second that the nurse put it into my hand, clear until I had to stop. My family said that even while I slept, I pushed it constantly, waiting for the beep every six minutes. I don't remember being in pain, but I think I was afraid I would be. That night, I had to stop pushing it though. Around 7:30, they had to come in and put me on oxygen because my breathing was getting too shallow. Everytime I'd start to go to sleep, my breathing would almost stop, and they told Mark to keep waking me up because they were afraid that if I went into a deep sleep, I wouldn't wake up. That was pretty scary. I tried to breath deep and keep the oxygen level up, but it was hard to stay awake for long. Mark stayed next to my bed, and tapped me everytime the machine was about to go off. It had a loud beeping, and it took forever to shut off.
That night was an experience. Around 11, I finally started breathing normally, and was able to go to sleep. I slept for an hour or two, then woke up for a while. At 1:00am, my second dose of antibiotics was given. Two hours later, I got the burning HOT pain again. I called my nurse in and since I only had a little left, she didn't want to stop it. It burned and itched so bad that I couldn't stop crying, and she had to stop it. That time it was reacting to the pain medicine I was on. Shortly after she stopped the antibiotic, the itching stopped and I fell back asleep. Mornings there were hectic. 5:00am, a guy came in to draw blood. I fall back asleep, and at 6:00 a lady comes in to take vitals. 7:30, another nurse comes on duty and comes in to introduce herself, and at 8, breakfast was served. Within an hour, the cleaning lady comes to empty trashcans and sweep the floor, and before 10:00, a doctor comes in to see you. It was awesome service, totally better than I thougth it would be. My nurse came to check on me every couple of hours to see if I needed anything or to change my IV bag. Everytime someone entered my room, they asked my name to make sure that it matched who they had on the paper in their hand. I got physical therapy once a day (it should have been more but I'm not complaining) and respiratory therapy twice a day (should have also been three times, but I could hardly take deep breaths as it was). I also had to wear these horrid leg braces for two days, that squeezed and released constantly like a Blood Pressure cuff, to make sure that I didn't get blood clots.
I started getting out of bed Saterday morning to use the bathroom. It was hard trying to unplug my IV and drag it to the bathroom. I also had a pain pump and draining tube inserted, so while I carried those, Mark moved my IV. He stood outside until I finished, and then back to bed for me. I probably got in and out of bed 10 times that first day. I was on a liquid diet, and wasn't able to drink hardly any of it but what I did drink, came out shortly after. Around noon, I had to do my third and final treatment of my antibiotic, but thankfully, it didn't react badly with anything that I had going through the IV. But that night, I noticed that my ID bracelets were getting tight on my wrist. I called the nurse in and sure enough, my IV had moved and was no longer filling my vein. Instead it was inserting the liquid in my hand. It was almost twice the size of my other hand. They had to withdraw the IV and place it in the middle of my arm vein. I was freaked out thinking I'd bleed to death because that is a HUGE vein. The IV being in the arm was a lot more comfortable though. I also started getting hungry and wanted actual food. I was supposed to start a semi soft diet Sunday morning, and was really looking forward to it, but when they served breakfast, it was liquids again.
When the doctor made his rounds, I begged to be started on food.
Of course he said yes because I was already supposed to be getting it. I was beyond happy when lunch was served, and it was ham, scalloped potatoes and bread. Hospital food is GOOD!!! And even more surprising, I'm not big on cranberry juice. But they served these little cranberry cocktail juices and they were yummy!!! I'm even thinking about contacting the company to see if I can order them at home.
Sunday morning, I was actually sitting up in a chair when the doctor came in, so he saw that I was doing pretty well. I was also told by the Physical Therapist that I didn't need therapy anymore because I was doing so well. But boy by night time, I would be so sore from the days activity. Monday, I did my respiratory therapy, which my brother joked saying I looked like I was smoking the hooka. Then I was released to go home at 11:00 am. The ride home was horrible, I felt every bump and swerve. But I did fall asleep and it made time go by quicker for me. I've been staying at my mom's house, because they are home and can get me whatever I need. I haven't made them into too big of slaves, because I want to be able to do things for myself. I'm spending most of my days out of bed, although an afternoon nap still beckons me.
I'm still terrified that I'll get infected along my incision, but I'm trying to keep the area dry and clean. Mark is freaking out over every little bump or spot. But he did an awesome job of taking care of me. He stayed with me the full three days in the hospital, and my mom and brother made the drive down Saterday and Sunday to spend a couple of hours with me. I have an awesome family and am very lucky! I feel bad because I wasn't taking phone calls at the hospital, but I really didn't feel like talking to anyone, just like I still don't really feel up to seeing people just yet. But each day I am feeling better and stronger, and I hope that by Monday when I get the staples out, that I'll be pretty much back to new. I think I got a total of 34 staples, from about 3 inches above my belly button, all the way down. Not too bad, and my surgeon even left my belly button intact, instead of cutting it in two, he took the incision to the right of it. I couldn't have asked for a better surgeon! And the pain? I haven't cried once since I've been out of surgery (except from the antibiotic). The pain is sooooooo much more tolerable than the pain before surgery. BUT I am having a lot of back pain. I have to sleep on my back, and I HATE sleeping on my back. I've always slept on my stomach, up until this past year, when I had to sleep on my sides. I can hardly wait to get back to sleeping normal.
So overall, it wasn't near as bad of an experience as I thought it would be. And best of all, the HUGE cyst is gone, along with my right ovary, fillopian tube, gallbladder and appendix. They said the hardest part of the surgery was trying to find my gallbladder. The cyst itself was pretty muchly the size of a newborn baby, and it was what they call a borderline cyst. From what I understand, it wasn't cancerous, but it had abnormal cells, which could have ended up going into cancer if it wasn't removed. Oh yeah, and the cyst had already been leaking when they opened me up, so it's a good thing they did it when they did because it could have caused septicemia or all sorts of problems in there. It took 10 months to get this stupid thing out, and now that it is, I don't regret it at all. I do however have a very new look on life and how stupid people are!!! I'm sorry but people who go in and get surgery for vanity reasons are fucking stupid!!! Who in the hell would go in and do this to themselves, just so they looked better for a little while? If it isn't life or death, or even needed, then people are fucking morons! Even gastro bypass isn't worth it!!! If I can't lose the weight by controlling my portions and getting off my ass for 30 minutes a day, then I deserve to be fat!!! And people who shoot up drugs??? What the hell??? I got poked like 8 times in 3 1/2 days. I feel like a human pin cushion. People who do it to themselves are insane!!! I have bruises everywhere that I was poked, and they are just now showing signs that they may fade away into memory. I also haven't needed to take many pain pills since being home, and I only got three doses of antibiotics at the hospital. So, I'm pretty muchly pill free. :)
I will be posting pictures soon, I just haven't downloaded them yet. It's good to be home, and thank you for everyone who was sending prayers and warm wishes. It was greatly appreciated! I'm back....and I hope....improved. I do know one thing, I will be trying to lose weight now. Still can't get over that hot guy and what he said.
As bad as my ordeal has been, I think it has been worse on my family. I guess I'll share their story before I share my experience. Friday morning when we got to the hospital, we had to sit in the family waiting room for about 45 minutes before I was called back (I'll explain later). We watched as several doctors came in, found the family they were looking for, and either talked to them there or escorted them to right outside the door and spoke with them. After I went in, my family eagerly waited for any news about me and watched as the doctors continued to come in and speak to the families. I had two surgeons work on me, and my female surgeon came in. She looked my family in their face, then diverted her gaze to the ground as she approached them. They asked her if everything went well, and she responded with "we should wait until we can speak with the other doctor", but she would not look them back in the face. Instead she walked them out of the waiting room, into a room across the hall where they had 3 chairs waiting. They said that they feared the worst, and that they were shaking really badly, and my mom felt like she was going to pass out. My surgeon came in, and reassured them that I was fine and everything went pretty well. I remember being at the vet's when they pulled my husband and I back to a private room to tell us that they lost my rat Nemo on the operating table. I know how scary it is, and my husband no doubt remembered that experience at that time. I feel so bad that they had to go through that.
Ok, so here's my story. It's a long one! On Thursday (the day before surgery), I had to go to the hospital to do a type and screen, in case I would have to have a blood transfusion on the table. When we arrived (we arrived early), I was nowhere in Admitting's computer. So I had to wait in the waiting room until someone put me in the system. This really nice guy came out and called me back, where he asked me a bunch of questions and I signed paperwork. Then he told me to go to the lab, to do my blood work. I walk to the lab, and wait until I'm called. I had to walk down this long hallway to get there, and when I walked in, they informed me that I needed a work order from my surgeon (which I was never given!). I had to wait 15 minutes until my surgeon's office opened, then I had to walk over there and wait for an order to be made. The receptionist was rude and freaking out because "she shouldn't be the only one there". My doctor himself came out to give me the work order. Of course he's in the process of trying to leave because I think that's the day he should be at another hospital 10 minutes away (he works out of two hospitals). So we walk back over to the lab, and they read me back the spelling of my last name, and they forgot an "e". So they tell us to go back to admitting to get it fixed because one tiny little mistake can have dier consquences. We walk all the way back through that long hall and I'm talking about getting the run around when we attempt to leave the "lab admitting". The girl there tells us that she can fix it. 10 minutes later, I'm finally able to give my blood! What should have only been a 20 minute visit turned into 2 hours of the run around. Not a very good way to start my surgery experience!
Friday rolls around and we make the 112 mile drive. It was stressful because my mom was driving behind us, and she had never driven it before. We arrive at the hospital 20 minutes early, are sent straight up to the surgery floor, and they can't find my EKG (which I had done on my own, my surgoen's assistant told me I didn't need it but I thought it's better to be safe than sorry) or my Chest X-ray. At this point, being the second day that things weren't going right, I began to get pissed. I "personally" handed those to Korina, and so help me, if she lost them, she'd better hope I died on the table before I could get to her! So anyways, about 45 minutes later, after Korina had to refax them up to the surgery floor, I was called back. The first step was to give blood for some test. I had already given blood twice that week, so that wasn't going over really well, and I questioned them on why I needed to do it AGAIN. The woman who took me back there had no friggin clue what she was doing, and she attempted to get blood from my arm. I told her before she ever started that out of 4 years of giving blood, NO ONE has ever put a needle in my arm because NO ONE has ever found a vein. She didn't believe me, and she was the first one to attempt it. There was surprisingly no pain when she put the needle in, but I watched as she dug it around back and forth, hoping she'd find a vein. After a minute of not locating anything, she pulled it out and went to my hand. She should have listened to me to begin with and we could have saved 5 minutes.
Then I was taken to this room, where I had to put on a gown. OK, let me explain something, this was my first ever hospital experience, and I had no idea how to put on a gown. I ended up putting it on backwards, where it opened in the front. Plus it was too small, so here I am trying to cover up my parts, when the woman came in. She told me that I had it on wrong and right then, Mark walks into the room. I instantly turned away, and not even a second later, my brother walks in. I scream that I'm not ready, and my brother turns around and leaves before catching a potentially very humiliating experience. She tells them that she'll send for them when it's time, then she gets me a larger gown (that fit wonderfully). By this time, I've calmed down and I'm not really scared. Just anxious because I can't wait to get it all done and over with. I answer all her questions, and I lay down on my bed, and she puts the IV in my hand, to start my anitibiotic treatment. Then she tells my family that they can come back and see me.
I talked with them for a while, and my doctors came in to see me before the procedure. Then my mom and brother decided to leave. I think she was having a hard time holding it together. As she was walking out, she started crying, which made me cry. It was the first time, I had cried. She said she loved me and I could barely choke the words back out to her. Shortly after she left, I stopped crying and talked to Mark for a while longer. Then the lady who was going to give me the anestisia came in, and told us that she was going to give me a memory blocker for the pain before surgery. Mark left shortly after she did. It was hard saying goodbye, and praying it wouldn't be the last time.
Then came in the lady to wheel me to the operating room. Along the way, another girl joined us and she put a cap on my head. It was just like the movies, where you're wheeled down that long lonely hall staring up at the lights. (Actually pretty cool!) Then we enter the operating room, where there are a couple of other girls, one who is wearing lots of makeup and looks several years younger than me. Then I feel it...a slight itching in the back of my neck. I scratch it, and in the wake of the itch mark, is a burning streak of HOT pain. I start itching on the other side too, and I ask if something is wrong, as I scoot over to the operating table. The nurse acts a little startled and then another nurse comes up and tells me that I'm experiencing something called "Red Itch" or something like that, from the antibiotic. Something to do with it counteracting with something else they gave me. Then she tells me that it should go away because my sedative should kick in shortly. I thank God again for the wonderful life he has given to me, and look at the nurse with all the makeup on. I remember thinking how I liked it, and watching the nurses rearrange the lights over the table, and then nothing. The next thing I know, I'm coming to in a room with a blonde lady buzzing around me, taking my vitals. I ask her what time it is and she said 4:00. My surgery was supposed to be at 11:30, and it got started about 45 minutes late. That means it had to be longer than expected. I glide in and out of conscienceness, until I wake up and this really hot guy is to my left. The nurse tells me that I'll be seeing my family in a couple of minutes, and then I'm being wheeled out of recovery and into the elevator.
Then we get to my room. I'm barely awake at this point, and the hot guy is still on my side. I hear him leave the room and ask for someone to come in and help him scoot me over to my bed. Someone tells him that he is strong enough to do it, and I hear him say "I don't want to break my back".
That would be the one thing I would be conscience enough to hear. He comes back into the room with another woman and I tell them that I can move myself over (hoping he felt like an ass!). Sure enough, I scooted myself onto the other bed by myself. Then I went to sleep, and awoke to my family coming into the room. The day was jumbled, although I can remember some of it. My mom and brother stayed a while, and then left. I remember holding that little clicker button for the pain constantly, and I had started pushing it the second that the nurse put it into my hand, clear until I had to stop. My family said that even while I slept, I pushed it constantly, waiting for the beep every six minutes. I don't remember being in pain, but I think I was afraid I would be. That night, I had to stop pushing it though. Around 7:30, they had to come in and put me on oxygen because my breathing was getting too shallow. Everytime I'd start to go to sleep, my breathing would almost stop, and they told Mark to keep waking me up because they were afraid that if I went into a deep sleep, I wouldn't wake up. That was pretty scary. I tried to breath deep and keep the oxygen level up, but it was hard to stay awake for long. Mark stayed next to my bed, and tapped me everytime the machine was about to go off. It had a loud beeping, and it took forever to shut off.
That night was an experience. Around 11, I finally started breathing normally, and was able to go to sleep. I slept for an hour or two, then woke up for a while. At 1:00am, my second dose of antibiotics was given. Two hours later, I got the burning HOT pain again. I called my nurse in and since I only had a little left, she didn't want to stop it. It burned and itched so bad that I couldn't stop crying, and she had to stop it. That time it was reacting to the pain medicine I was on. Shortly after she stopped the antibiotic, the itching stopped and I fell back asleep. Mornings there were hectic. 5:00am, a guy came in to draw blood. I fall back asleep, and at 6:00 a lady comes in to take vitals. 7:30, another nurse comes on duty and comes in to introduce herself, and at 8, breakfast was served. Within an hour, the cleaning lady comes to empty trashcans and sweep the floor, and before 10:00, a doctor comes in to see you. It was awesome service, totally better than I thougth it would be. My nurse came to check on me every couple of hours to see if I needed anything or to change my IV bag. Everytime someone entered my room, they asked my name to make sure that it matched who they had on the paper in their hand. I got physical therapy once a day (it should have been more but I'm not complaining) and respiratory therapy twice a day (should have also been three times, but I could hardly take deep breaths as it was). I also had to wear these horrid leg braces for two days, that squeezed and released constantly like a Blood Pressure cuff, to make sure that I didn't get blood clots.
I started getting out of bed Saterday morning to use the bathroom. It was hard trying to unplug my IV and drag it to the bathroom. I also had a pain pump and draining tube inserted, so while I carried those, Mark moved my IV. He stood outside until I finished, and then back to bed for me. I probably got in and out of bed 10 times that first day. I was on a liquid diet, and wasn't able to drink hardly any of it but what I did drink, came out shortly after. Around noon, I had to do my third and final treatment of my antibiotic, but thankfully, it didn't react badly with anything that I had going through the IV. But that night, I noticed that my ID bracelets were getting tight on my wrist. I called the nurse in and sure enough, my IV had moved and was no longer filling my vein. Instead it was inserting the liquid in my hand. It was almost twice the size of my other hand. They had to withdraw the IV and place it in the middle of my arm vein. I was freaked out thinking I'd bleed to death because that is a HUGE vein. The IV being in the arm was a lot more comfortable though. I also started getting hungry and wanted actual food. I was supposed to start a semi soft diet Sunday morning, and was really looking forward to it, but when they served breakfast, it was liquids again.
When the doctor made his rounds, I begged to be started on food.
Of course he said yes because I was already supposed to be getting it. I was beyond happy when lunch was served, and it was ham, scalloped potatoes and bread. Hospital food is GOOD!!! And even more surprising, I'm not big on cranberry juice. But they served these little cranberry cocktail juices and they were yummy!!! I'm even thinking about contacting the company to see if I can order them at home.
Sunday morning, I was actually sitting up in a chair when the doctor came in, so he saw that I was doing pretty well. I was also told by the Physical Therapist that I didn't need therapy anymore because I was doing so well. But boy by night time, I would be so sore from the days activity. Monday, I did my respiratory therapy, which my brother joked saying I looked like I was smoking the hooka. Then I was released to go home at 11:00 am. The ride home was horrible, I felt every bump and swerve. But I did fall asleep and it made time go by quicker for me. I've been staying at my mom's house, because they are home and can get me whatever I need. I haven't made them into too big of slaves, because I want to be able to do things for myself. I'm spending most of my days out of bed, although an afternoon nap still beckons me.
I'm still terrified that I'll get infected along my incision, but I'm trying to keep the area dry and clean. Mark is freaking out over every little bump or spot. But he did an awesome job of taking care of me. He stayed with me the full three days in the hospital, and my mom and brother made the drive down Saterday and Sunday to spend a couple of hours with me. I have an awesome family and am very lucky! I feel bad because I wasn't taking phone calls at the hospital, but I really didn't feel like talking to anyone, just like I still don't really feel up to seeing people just yet. But each day I am feeling better and stronger, and I hope that by Monday when I get the staples out, that I'll be pretty much back to new. I think I got a total of 34 staples, from about 3 inches above my belly button, all the way down. Not too bad, and my surgeon even left my belly button intact, instead of cutting it in two, he took the incision to the right of it. I couldn't have asked for a better surgeon! And the pain? I haven't cried once since I've been out of surgery (except from the antibiotic). The pain is sooooooo much more tolerable than the pain before surgery. BUT I am having a lot of back pain. I have to sleep on my back, and I HATE sleeping on my back. I've always slept on my stomach, up until this past year, when I had to sleep on my sides. I can hardly wait to get back to sleeping normal.
So overall, it wasn't near as bad of an experience as I thought it would be. And best of all, the HUGE cyst is gone, along with my right ovary, fillopian tube, gallbladder and appendix. They said the hardest part of the surgery was trying to find my gallbladder. The cyst itself was pretty muchly the size of a newborn baby, and it was what they call a borderline cyst. From what I understand, it wasn't cancerous, but it had abnormal cells, which could have ended up going into cancer if it wasn't removed. Oh yeah, and the cyst had already been leaking when they opened me up, so it's a good thing they did it when they did because it could have caused septicemia or all sorts of problems in there. It took 10 months to get this stupid thing out, and now that it is, I don't regret it at all. I do however have a very new look on life and how stupid people are!!! I'm sorry but people who go in and get surgery for vanity reasons are fucking stupid!!! Who in the hell would go in and do this to themselves, just so they looked better for a little while? If it isn't life or death, or even needed, then people are fucking morons! Even gastro bypass isn't worth it!!! If I can't lose the weight by controlling my portions and getting off my ass for 30 minutes a day, then I deserve to be fat!!! And people who shoot up drugs??? What the hell??? I got poked like 8 times in 3 1/2 days. I feel like a human pin cushion. People who do it to themselves are insane!!! I have bruises everywhere that I was poked, and they are just now showing signs that they may fade away into memory. I also haven't needed to take many pain pills since being home, and I only got three doses of antibiotics at the hospital. So, I'm pretty muchly pill free. :)
I will be posting pictures soon, I just haven't downloaded them yet. It's good to be home, and thank you for everyone who was sending prayers and warm wishes. It was greatly appreciated! I'm back....and I hope....improved. I do know one thing, I will be trying to lose weight now. Still can't get over that hot guy and what he said.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Friday is almost here...
I've been debating on whether I really wanted to write this post or not, and I guess it all boils down to...I feel I must. Life is such a fragile thing. I'd hate for something bad to happen, and I didn't take the opportunity to say what I wanted to say before hand. I guess the only problem now, is that I don't know how to say the things I want to. I guess if I was to die on Friday (or any other day for that matter), I'd want to say the following.
I have been blessed with the best family I could have ever hoped to have. My mom and brother have helped me so much throughout the years. They mean the world to me, and I am priviledged to call them not only family members but friends. And Mark, I don't even know where to start. He is my soul mate and my other half. He has stuck by me through my good times and bad, and my crazy addiction to new fur-family members. He understands me (or at least pretends to). I'd be lost without him, and I'm thankful for every day I have with him. As for the rest of my family, I love you all and have been grateful that I've had the chance to be related to you all.
As for my friends who I've grown up with or have made throughout life's journey, you have helped to make me who I am today...and I like me. That must say a lot about you all. You guys have helped me to get through the good times and bad, and you all hold a very special place in my heart. I thank God that we've been woven into each others' lives.
For those I've hurt at one time or another, I am so very sorry. I only wish that I had known what I was doing, before I did it. I once fell in love with a song called "Dear God" by Charles and Eddie. I always knew that I'd want to feel like that song when I die, and I can honestly say that if this is the time, then I do. I have made my peace with God, and most of my family and friends, and that's what is most important to me. I've lived a good life full of love for those around me and my special fur-family. Who could ask for more?
So IF this is truly my last words, then I guess I'd want to leave these final words of wisdom for whoever reads this...
Be who you truly are and let others love you for it. You can't please everyone, so live your life for yourself.
Be open minded. Things are too great to be overlooked. Life is not black or white, but a variety of colors inbetween.
Don't be too judgemental of others. We all live our own lives, and not everyone is going to agree with what we do. It doesn't make it right or wrong.
Treat others the way you want them to treat you. Life isn't about you, it's about the people you interact with on a daily basis. Love and respect them!
Love and laugh as often as you can, while you can. It truly will make life that much more meaningful.
Forgive others! NO ONE is perfect. We do the best we can with what we have to work with.
And finally, don't take life too seriously! In the end, no one's going to make it out alive! Live today like it could be your last.
I love you all, and hope that I'll be back in a couple of weeks to further entertain you with my ramblings. Take it easy...I plan to. Lol!
I have been blessed with the best family I could have ever hoped to have. My mom and brother have helped me so much throughout the years. They mean the world to me, and I am priviledged to call them not only family members but friends. And Mark, I don't even know where to start. He is my soul mate and my other half. He has stuck by me through my good times and bad, and my crazy addiction to new fur-family members. He understands me (or at least pretends to). I'd be lost without him, and I'm thankful for every day I have with him. As for the rest of my family, I love you all and have been grateful that I've had the chance to be related to you all.
As for my friends who I've grown up with or have made throughout life's journey, you have helped to make me who I am today...and I like me. That must say a lot about you all. You guys have helped me to get through the good times and bad, and you all hold a very special place in my heart. I thank God that we've been woven into each others' lives.
For those I've hurt at one time or another, I am so very sorry. I only wish that I had known what I was doing, before I did it. I once fell in love with a song called "Dear God" by Charles and Eddie. I always knew that I'd want to feel like that song when I die, and I can honestly say that if this is the time, then I do. I have made my peace with God, and most of my family and friends, and that's what is most important to me. I've lived a good life full of love for those around me and my special fur-family. Who could ask for more?
So IF this is truly my last words, then I guess I'd want to leave these final words of wisdom for whoever reads this...
Be who you truly are and let others love you for it. You can't please everyone, so live your life for yourself.
Be open minded. Things are too great to be overlooked. Life is not black or white, but a variety of colors inbetween.
Don't be too judgemental of others. We all live our own lives, and not everyone is going to agree with what we do. It doesn't make it right or wrong.
Treat others the way you want them to treat you. Life isn't about you, it's about the people you interact with on a daily basis. Love and respect them!
Love and laugh as often as you can, while you can. It truly will make life that much more meaningful.
Forgive others! NO ONE is perfect. We do the best we can with what we have to work with.
And finally, don't take life too seriously! In the end, no one's going to make it out alive! Live today like it could be your last.
I love you all, and hope that I'll be back in a couple of weeks to further entertain you with my ramblings. Take it easy...I plan to. Lol!
Kindness in the most unusual places
So I posted yesterday that Mark broke down on the freeway. Thankfully, he was able to pull off onto an offramp. But it just happened to be in a place where he had very little reception on his cell phone. He said he was worried that he'd be stuck there for hours because he didn't know if he'd be able to reach anyone. Wouldn't you know it? A Highway Patrolman drove right past Mark as he was trying to start the truck, and got onto the freeway. Never stopped to see if he needed help or anything.
The only person that stopped was an elderly gentleman. The thing that makes that so unusual besides a stranger stopping to offer another stranger assistance in this day and age, is that this man was homeless. Apparently he lives in his truck, and collects recyclables. He stayed and talked to Mark for about a half an hour, keeping him company and telling him about his life. Apparently, he hit a hard spot in his life where he was forced to move in with his sister and brother in law. They ended up going bankrupt, picked up and left for Vegas, leaving him behind. He is only 4 months and 15 days away from getting his social security.
You know, it really makes you stop and think about all the people that you drive by who appear to be having trouble on the side of the road. I know it's dangerous to stop and see if people need help, but I wonder how many truly are in need of assistance. If a homeless man could make the effort to offer any help he could, then dangit, an ordinary person should have no problem doing it. Just simply seeing if someone needs you to make a phone call for them could give someone a lot of relief. Once you actually experience a simple act of kindness, it opens you up to all these new ideas and feelings. I hope that someday, I'm able to help someone who may need help! And I guess it goes to show that you shouldn't be so quick to judge people. Sometimes the best people, are those that you wouldn't suspect. :)
The only person that stopped was an elderly gentleman. The thing that makes that so unusual besides a stranger stopping to offer another stranger assistance in this day and age, is that this man was homeless. Apparently he lives in his truck, and collects recyclables. He stayed and talked to Mark for about a half an hour, keeping him company and telling him about his life. Apparently, he hit a hard spot in his life where he was forced to move in with his sister and brother in law. They ended up going bankrupt, picked up and left for Vegas, leaving him behind. He is only 4 months and 15 days away from getting his social security.
You know, it really makes you stop and think about all the people that you drive by who appear to be having trouble on the side of the road. I know it's dangerous to stop and see if people need help, but I wonder how many truly are in need of assistance. If a homeless man could make the effort to offer any help he could, then dangit, an ordinary person should have no problem doing it. Just simply seeing if someone needs you to make a phone call for them could give someone a lot of relief. Once you actually experience a simple act of kindness, it opens you up to all these new ideas and feelings. I hope that someday, I'm able to help someone who may need help! And I guess it goes to show that you shouldn't be so quick to judge people. Sometimes the best people, are those that you wouldn't suspect. :)
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
The battle inside us all...
One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between 2 wolves.
One is Evil. It is hate, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
One is Evil. It is hate, anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego.
The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?"
The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."
Stressful times
I guess it was inevitable! Do you ever feel like sometimes you're being tried to see just how much you can take before you break? I really don't feel like that often anymore, but sometimes I really have to wonder if someone or something has it out for me.
So Sunday night comes around, Taz has started sneezing more often. I know that means he probably has an upper respiratory virus, but there's not much I can do about it, being that there is no cure. We can only watch and make sure that he is eating, breathing ok, and active. I'm really worried because it just seems like everything is working against us with this little guy. Binx has also been sneezing, but I gave him some colloidal silver, and he only sneezes every now and then. I sure hope that the silver helps Taz out also, but so far, it doesn't seem to be. I wasn't able to take him to the vets yesterday because it was my pre-op day, and we had to drive almost two hours to the hospital and two hours home. By the time we got back, it was late in the evening and of course the vet isn't open that late. Today, I called and the vet told me that Binx was tested for a few of the diseases out there and was negative, but that he had an upper respiratory virus. Now call me stupid but they never warned us to keep him away from other pets. In fact, they told us he had an infection (which could be misunderstood any number of ways), not a contagious virus. I guess I should have known to ask questions, but we thought it was stress related since he got sick shortly after we brought the little one home.
So now, I have to sit here and listen to Taz sneezing. Respiratory problems are a lot more dangerous with kittens than with big cats. That doesn't make me feel good! And I only have a couple of days to worry because after that, then it will be in God's hands because we will all be down at the hospital. I felt like we were truly giving our all to try to take good care of our fur-kids, but sometimes, I guess life has other ideas because it seems like we can't just sit back and enjoy our new life with Taz. I did contact a very nice woman who breeds cats, and she offered some advice, so I pray that it will help him.
Sunday night, Mark comes back from feeding the horses to announce that they killed a kitten that was about the same age as Taz. In fact, they could have been from the same litter. How sad is that? I know the horses don't know any better, but I am actually mad at them. I bet it was Zoey because she always chases the cats that go into the pen, but dang, who would have thought they would kill one? It was my favorite little one too. Remember how I had to bring the 6 newly born ones home, and then I got the momma to accept three back? Well there was this little black one that had very little white on his chest and under his mouth. I saw him playing with the two that I had up here when we found Taz. It's so sad that he's dead now. I know thats a way of life, but damn, we are having death all around us this year. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cursed and I should just start to get rid of our pets
Then Mark had to drive over to Victorville this evening to pick up some hay. That's a 30 minute drive. On the way home, he calls to tell me that he broke down on the freeway. For those who don't live in California, the I-15 is a VERY dangerous freeway. He had me look up a towing company, and I am now waiting for him to get home. Of course where he broke down, he had less than a full bar on his cell-phone, so he was having a hard time calling out. He thinks that the fuel pump went out on the truck. Great, just great! Another thing to worry about!?! I didn't go with him because I had to go and give blood for my lab work. That was an experience I'll share in a minute...But I've pretty muchly felt light headed since, and I didn't want to go along for the ride. Of course, I died in pain for three days this weekend, and I couldn't do much about it. I thought it was the end when I had to sink low enough to take Ibuprofin. I was told NOTHING for pain except for vicadin. I found out yesterday that Tylonal is fine. WHAT!!!!! That would have been nice to know while I was in pain!!! Of course, now I don't have any on hand and the headache I feel coming on is destined to get worse. :(
So Sunday night comes around, Taz has started sneezing more often. I know that means he probably has an upper respiratory virus, but there's not much I can do about it, being that there is no cure. We can only watch and make sure that he is eating, breathing ok, and active. I'm really worried because it just seems like everything is working against us with this little guy. Binx has also been sneezing, but I gave him some colloidal silver, and he only sneezes every now and then. I sure hope that the silver helps Taz out also, but so far, it doesn't seem to be. I wasn't able to take him to the vets yesterday because it was my pre-op day, and we had to drive almost two hours to the hospital and two hours home. By the time we got back, it was late in the evening and of course the vet isn't open that late. Today, I called and the vet told me that Binx was tested for a few of the diseases out there and was negative, but that he had an upper respiratory virus. Now call me stupid but they never warned us to keep him away from other pets. In fact, they told us he had an infection (which could be misunderstood any number of ways), not a contagious virus. I guess I should have known to ask questions, but we thought it was stress related since he got sick shortly after we brought the little one home.
So now, I have to sit here and listen to Taz sneezing. Respiratory problems are a lot more dangerous with kittens than with big cats. That doesn't make me feel good! And I only have a couple of days to worry because after that, then it will be in God's hands because we will all be down at the hospital. I felt like we were truly giving our all to try to take good care of our fur-kids, but sometimes, I guess life has other ideas because it seems like we can't just sit back and enjoy our new life with Taz. I did contact a very nice woman who breeds cats, and she offered some advice, so I pray that it will help him.
Sunday night, Mark comes back from feeding the horses to announce that they killed a kitten that was about the same age as Taz. In fact, they could have been from the same litter. How sad is that? I know the horses don't know any better, but I am actually mad at them. I bet it was Zoey because she always chases the cats that go into the pen, but dang, who would have thought they would kill one? It was my favorite little one too. Remember how I had to bring the 6 newly born ones home, and then I got the momma to accept three back? Well there was this little black one that had very little white on his chest and under his mouth. I saw him playing with the two that I had up here when we found Taz. It's so sad that he's dead now. I know thats a way of life, but damn, we are having death all around us this year. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cursed and I should just start to get rid of our pets
Then Mark had to drive over to Victorville this evening to pick up some hay. That's a 30 minute drive. On the way home, he calls to tell me that he broke down on the freeway. For those who don't live in California, the I-15 is a VERY dangerous freeway. He had me look up a towing company, and I am now waiting for him to get home. Of course where he broke down, he had less than a full bar on his cell-phone, so he was having a hard time calling out. He thinks that the fuel pump went out on the truck. Great, just great! Another thing to worry about!?! I didn't go with him because I had to go and give blood for my lab work. That was an experience I'll share in a minute...But I've pretty muchly felt light headed since, and I didn't want to go along for the ride. Of course, I died in pain for three days this weekend, and I couldn't do much about it. I thought it was the end when I had to sink low enough to take Ibuprofin. I was told NOTHING for pain except for vicadin. I found out yesterday that Tylonal is fine. WHAT!!!!! That would have been nice to know while I was in pain!!! Of course, now I don't have any on hand and the headache I feel coming on is destined to get worse. :(
I know that this all seems like trivial little things, and I feel stupid bitching, but I just can't seem to help it. My mom and brother are stressing out majorly about the surgery, and now it's only 3 days away. They're making me stressed out on top of everything else! Oh yeah, so today I went for my bloodwork, and I asked the lady to take it from my hand. My arm veins are very well hidden and I didn't want to be a pin cushin. I always get it done there and I thought she knew what she was doing! She ended up going for the smallest vein right between my pointer finger and my middle finger (close to the knuckle). OUCH!!!! She told me that it was a rolling vein and my brother said you could see the vein moving from side to side as she tried to stab it. She finally had to go into my other hand, and she asked me which vein I wanted her to do it from. WHAT!?! I pointed out the one I usually have it taken from and she got the blood with no problem. She took 5 viles full. Yes five! She took one extra incase they needed it. That's probably why I feel so badly, she took more than they asked. I just want this all done and over with already!!!
Ok, I think I'm done complaining! I promise that I'll try to be in better spirits tomorrow. I plan on going out to lunch with my family and having a quality day. I just pray that Taz will get over his sneezing! As for Thursday, well that's the day I go back to the hospital, and then spend the day on a liquid diet. I'll probably be pretty bitchy that day too. :( Hope things are going wonderful for everyone else!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Nothing new happening
Just wanted to let you guys know I have my pre-op exam tomorrow again, so I don't know if I'll be on to post. I ended up spending the past two days in bed, and let me tell you, my back and sides are killing me. I can't imagine what it's gonna be like after surgery. :(
I've only got 4 days to get Taz to start eating dry kitty food. No one's gonna be here during the day to feed moist, tried leaving some out the other night and ants came in from under the back door and got all in it. :( He sure is fighting me though, he is not wanting to make the transaction over. Binx has still been sneezing a little, even after his round of antibiotics. And Taz started yesterday. We've put them both on amoxicillian, and hope that it will take care of any bacteria. Hopefully this is just a virus that will go away! I don't need the extra stress right now!
I've only got 4 days to get Taz to start eating dry kitty food. No one's gonna be here during the day to feed moist, tried leaving some out the other night and ants came in from under the back door and got all in it. :( He sure is fighting me though, he is not wanting to make the transaction over. Binx has still been sneezing a little, even after his round of antibiotics. And Taz started yesterday. We've put them both on amoxicillian, and hope that it will take care of any bacteria. Hopefully this is just a virus that will go away! I don't need the extra stress right now!
Friday, June 6, 2008
I came down with this last year!!! Watch out, anyone can catch it!
Be on the lookout for symptoms of Inner Peace. The hearts of a great many have already been exposed to Inner Peace and it is possible that people everywhere could come down with it in epidemic proportions. This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.
Some signs and symptoms of Inner Peace:
A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based upon past experience.
An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
A loss of interest in judging other people.
A loss of interest in interpreting actions of others.
A loss of interest in conflict.
A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom)
Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
Frequent attacks of smiling.
An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
An increased susceptibility to the Love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.
WARNING:If you have all or some of the above symptoms, please be advised that your condition of Inner Peace may be so far advanced as to not be curable. If you are exposed to anyone exhibiting any of these symptoms, remain exposed only at your own risk.
Some signs and symptoms of Inner Peace:
A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based upon past experience.
An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
A loss of interest in judging other people.
A loss of interest in interpreting actions of others.
A loss of interest in conflict.
A loss of the ability to worry. (This is a very serious symptom)
Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
Frequent attacks of smiling.
An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen.
An increased susceptibility to the Love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it.
WARNING:If you have all or some of the above symptoms, please be advised that your condition of Inner Peace may be so far advanced as to not be curable. If you are exposed to anyone exhibiting any of these symptoms, remain exposed only at your own risk.
A week from today
God willing, I will be having my surgery!!
I CAN'T WAIT!!!!! I was in so much pain last night, I thought I'd end up having to go to the hospital. I popped a 500 vicadin instead, and let me tell you...it didn't touch the pain! I went to bed praying it would lessen while I slept, but 1 am comes around and I couldn't take it anymore. Got up out of bed, took a 800 Ibuprofin, and went back to sleep. The pain went away quite a bit, but unforunately, I can still feel it today too. Now let me explain something...I was told not to take asperin, advil or any other pain drug (except vicadin) 7 to 10 days before surgery. I could not help it!!! I was dying in pain!!! And today technically makes 7 days until surgery. I guess I've been lucky because I haven't had much pain for the past 3 weeks, but man, yesterday when it came, it came! I guess I will be taking it really easy this week, and NOTHING better come up between now and next Friday!!!!
It's sad when going in for surgery makes you almost as excited as if you were going to an amusement part. I just can't take the pain anymore. I actually cried infront of Mark last night. I didn't mean to, but he walked in while the tears were falling. Usually, the pain hits me in the middle of the night, and I'm able to cry to myself. Of course, if no one sees the tears, then they assume I'm not hurting as much as I say I'm hurting. I think he found out last night that it hurts REALLY BAD! So let's hope that next Friday is the day!!!!!!
I CAN'T WAIT!!!!! I was in so much pain last night, I thought I'd end up having to go to the hospital. I popped a 500 vicadin instead, and let me tell you...it didn't touch the pain! I went to bed praying it would lessen while I slept, but 1 am comes around and I couldn't take it anymore. Got up out of bed, took a 800 Ibuprofin, and went back to sleep. The pain went away quite a bit, but unforunately, I can still feel it today too. Now let me explain something...I was told not to take asperin, advil or any other pain drug (except vicadin) 7 to 10 days before surgery. I could not help it!!! I was dying in pain!!! And today technically makes 7 days until surgery. I guess I've been lucky because I haven't had much pain for the past 3 weeks, but man, yesterday when it came, it came! I guess I will be taking it really easy this week, and NOTHING better come up between now and next Friday!!!!
It's sad when going in for surgery makes you almost as excited as if you were going to an amusement part. I just can't take the pain anymore. I actually cried infront of Mark last night. I didn't mean to, but he walked in while the tears were falling. Usually, the pain hits me in the middle of the night, and I'm able to cry to myself. Of course, if no one sees the tears, then they assume I'm not hurting as much as I say I'm hurting. I think he found out last night that it hurts REALLY BAD! So let's hope that next Friday is the day!!!!!!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Thoughts on Love
"I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and, as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the more I give the more I live.
I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I've got to hold up for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations." George Bernard Shaw
Love shows in so many ways,
those who Love will always see it,
It speaks in so many voices,
those who Love will always hear it ...
In the presence of HOPE - FAITH is born,
In the presence of FAITH - LOVE becomes a possibility,
In the presence of LOVE - MIRACLES happen.
There is no difficulty that enough Love will not conquer;
no disease that enough Love will not heal;
no door that enough Love will not open;
no gulf that enough Love will not bridge;
no wall that enough Love will not throw down.
It makes no difference how deeply seated the trouble may be;
how hopeless the outlook;
how muddled the tangle;
how great the mistake;
A sufficient realization of Love will dissolve it all!
I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I've got to hold up for the moment and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations." George Bernard Shaw
Love shows in so many ways,
those who Love will always see it,
It speaks in so many voices,
those who Love will always hear it ...
In the presence of HOPE - FAITH is born,
In the presence of FAITH - LOVE becomes a possibility,
In the presence of LOVE - MIRACLES happen.
There is no difficulty that enough Love will not conquer;
no disease that enough Love will not heal;
no door that enough Love will not open;
no gulf that enough Love will not bridge;
no wall that enough Love will not throw down.
It makes no difference how deeply seated the trouble may be;
how hopeless the outlook;
how muddled the tangle;
how great the mistake;
A sufficient realization of Love will dissolve it all!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
This is some shitty weather!!!
All I see when I look outside is dirt. Gross! There's nothing worse than stepping out the door and getting pelted with sand. And to top it off, I'm wearing a sweatshirt. Ok, what gives? This is supposed to be June!!! That usually means HOT weather. Don't get me wrong, I hate the heat and I am enjoying the coolness. But dang, The wind needs to stop so that we can enjoy the outdoors.
On a sadder note, the baby birds have all died. Yesterday the one that kept jumping out of the basket made his final leap. The parent birds were going crazy for about 30 minutes, and then when I looked out, I saw he was out of the nest. I went out to put him back "again", and he refused to let me catch him. He ended up going right under my black car, and a cat ran out from under the white car that was right next to it, grabbed him and took off. I feel horrible, like I helped murder him. I chased him right to his death. Stupid cat! I went to the nest to check on the other two, and there was only one in there. We searched the yard high and low, but couldn't find the missing one anywhere. My guess is that the cat had already gotten it and that's why the parent birds were throwing that fit. So I had high hopes that the parents would take care of the last little one. This morning I went outside and the parent birds were nowhere to be found. I knew right then that he'd be dead. Sure enough, I look in and he sure was. It's so sad! I feel like maybe I should have brought them into the house, and at least tried. But I truly felt the parents would still care for them because they were still protecting them. Oh well, it's too late for regret now. But dangit, those stupid kids next door are to blame for these three babies dying. It's not fair!
On a sadder note, the baby birds have all died. Yesterday the one that kept jumping out of the basket made his final leap. The parent birds were going crazy for about 30 minutes, and then when I looked out, I saw he was out of the nest. I went out to put him back "again", and he refused to let me catch him. He ended up going right under my black car, and a cat ran out from under the white car that was right next to it, grabbed him and took off. I feel horrible, like I helped murder him. I chased him right to his death. Stupid cat! I went to the nest to check on the other two, and there was only one in there. We searched the yard high and low, but couldn't find the missing one anywhere. My guess is that the cat had already gotten it and that's why the parent birds were throwing that fit. So I had high hopes that the parents would take care of the last little one. This morning I went outside and the parent birds were nowhere to be found. I knew right then that he'd be dead. Sure enough, I look in and he sure was. It's so sad! I feel like maybe I should have brought them into the house, and at least tried. But I truly felt the parents would still care for them because they were still protecting them. Oh well, it's too late for regret now. But dangit, those stupid kids next door are to blame for these three babies dying. It's not fair!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Just devastating...
http://news.aol.com/story/_a/officials-say-blowtorch-started-studio/20080601095209990001?icid=1615988631x1203558936x1200308705
I was going to post about this the day after it happened, but I couldn't seem to find the words to say. I have been to Universal Studios and have seen the sets first hand before the fire. It's such a shame that so much was ruined, I mean the clock tower from "Back to the Future" was truly a wonder to see. Didn't care much for the King Kong ride, but hey, it was still huge! I'm just glad that no one was seriously hurt out of it.
There's something magical about seeing the sets where movies have been filmed. I remember when I first saw the house & motel from Psycho. I absolutely love Anthony Perkins, and just to know that he had been there in the past was amazing. I heard that he used to wave at the trams as they drove past. What a wonderful experience for those people. And then there's the sets of Jurastic Park, and The Grinch. It doesn't seem much when you look at them, but I guess the camera adds some of that magical feeling. I mean when we were at the filming of "Rocky Balboa", it didn't seem like it was going to turn out the way it did. But we were wrong. The movie was great. By the way...I actually liked the new Rambo movie. Weird.....
I guess the biggest picture is, everyone makes mistakes, even the pros. It's just devastating that it had such a huge toll in this case.
I was going to post about this the day after it happened, but I couldn't seem to find the words to say. I have been to Universal Studios and have seen the sets first hand before the fire. It's such a shame that so much was ruined, I mean the clock tower from "Back to the Future" was truly a wonder to see. Didn't care much for the King Kong ride, but hey, it was still huge! I'm just glad that no one was seriously hurt out of it.
There's something magical about seeing the sets where movies have been filmed. I remember when I first saw the house & motel from Psycho. I absolutely love Anthony Perkins, and just to know that he had been there in the past was amazing. I heard that he used to wave at the trams as they drove past. What a wonderful experience for those people. And then there's the sets of Jurastic Park, and The Grinch. It doesn't seem much when you look at them, but I guess the camera adds some of that magical feeling. I mean when we were at the filming of "Rocky Balboa", it didn't seem like it was going to turn out the way it did. But we were wrong. The movie was great. By the way...I actually liked the new Rambo movie. Weird.....
I guess the biggest picture is, everyone makes mistakes, even the pros. It's just devastating that it had such a huge toll in this case.
I've created a monster!
(knocking on wood)
But I'm going to try to give a good update. Everytime I open my mouth, something seems to happen. Taz has had normal poops since Friday. We are hoping that the worst is over and that it will be smooth sailing from now on. In fact, he's starting dry kitty food today.
But he's become a little terrorist! He zooms all around the house, chasing you and biting your feet. He loves to rough house, and since he doesn't have any brothers or sisters, we're his playthings. I just have to be careful and watch because I'm scared Binx will get too rough with him, and he's still so little. He's at that cute but annoying phase, but he has slept the last two nights all the way through. I guess he's too exhausted not to. :) Boy does he have energy, he's like the energizer bunny, he keeps going and going.
Ok, are you ready for the news I promised a couple of days ago? We bought a new car!!! With gas going up, we needed something a little better on fuel, especially with all my trips to Burbank lately. So right now, we have four vehicles. I'm getting ready to try selling our 92 Mustang though, so then we'll be down to three. I never wanted a car with only two doors, so when we had to decide which one was going, it had to be that one! I don't know why Mark even bought it!?! I guess it was supposed to get him to work on days when his car-pool buddy didn't go, but for the past 6 months, I'm the one who's been driving it. So now, we have the new one, and my 95 mitsubishi (which I LOVE) that needs to have work done, and of course our 96 Chevy truck for all the rough stuff. My goal is, to sell the Mustang, use the money to pay off my personal loan, and then to start putting money into my mitsubishi. That way, she'll be my primary car for things here in town, and then whenever we need to travel, we'll use the new one. Mark wants me to get rid of my car, but I'm really sentimental towards it, and sort of superstitious I guess.
That car loves me! Right after we bought it, Mark stopped by this place to look at a little pickup truck. When he got back into the car, she refused to start up for him. After a minute or two, she started up and it was over a year before we had any other problems. I used to drive daily to work which was a 45 minute drive. I decided that she needed a rest, and I needed to save money, so I started taking the bus to work. The first day I took the bus, Mark took her to work and she died on him. He had to be towed to his job's garage (which was a car dealership). The bus thing didn't last more than a month, so I started driving her to work again. Then I decided to quit work, and Mark started car-pooling with his friend (because he started working at the base I had just quit from). On my birthday, he decided to drive her to work so that he could leave early, and on the way home, she died on him. The only time she has died on me, was when her battery went dead. She kept trying to tell me it was happening, but I was hoping I could get home first. All of a sudden she died and I had to coast down the road a little bit. I was able to turn down this side road, and I wanted nothing more than to get up this little curb. I asked her to please start one last time, and right then, she did. She gave me enough juice to get up the curb and died again. I had to be towed home, but I was safe and that's all that matters. She is also the car that I talked about in the "creepy" thread, where her passenger tire kept going flat and we found out that the driver tire was practically bald, after which when it was replaced, the one that kept losing air mysteriously stopped. So yes, I feel really close to that car, and I just can't part ways with her. Sooner or later, I'll be driving around in an antique!
Ok, so back to the new car. It's a Suzuki Aerio, and drives like a dream. It has a really cool muffler, so when you start it up, it purrs and sounds like a little race car. Plus I love the black on black look (tented windows). I'm very happy with it. :)
I'm beginning to hate...
my neighbor's kids!!! Not only are they to blame for me getting the three kittens in April, but they've made it so I have enemies!
There's these crazy black birds that have started to reside in my neighborhood. You talk about aggressive and loud? For the past couple of weeks, these birds have been dive-bombing my neighbor's kids when they're in the yard. I actually felt sorry for them. Then yesterday, the kids had over some friends. The oldest kid must have been around 10 years old. They had water guns outside and were firing at the birds as the birds dived at them. Never thought anything because it's a daily thing and the kids have a right to defend themselves.
That is until I noticed all the kids gathered in a circle staring at the ground. Then they began firing their water guns at whatever they were gathered around. As if that wasn't suspesious, they began to kick at it. I sent Mark over to the fence line and sure enough, it was a baby black bird. I was pissed, I sent my brother into the yard to retrieve the poor little thing. Ok, I realize that once a baby falls from the tree, survival is rare, but I was not going to let them torture it to death. Then, as my brother was walking over to get it, we noticed the kids had found another one and were poking it with the water gun. So now we had two babies, and two furious parent birds. I had no idea what to do, so I grabbed an old easter bucket and put them in it. I have tried for many years to raise baby birds, and they ALL die! I knew that they'd have to be put up in "our" tree for even a chance of surviving. I put the bucket up, like it's a nest and before I know it, I see the kids taking a big stick over to where the second baby was found. They start poking something and then hand the stick to the 2 year old, who follows their lead. My brother went right back over and got that one too. Their father was standing out there watching the whole thing, and my brother asked him if there were any other birds. He doesn't speak very good english, but he was able to say there were 3 or 4 total.
We only found three. The parents are stuck to our tree now, but I had yet to see them go into the bucket I had out there. So first thing this morning, expecting to find the babies dead, I went and peaked in. All three were still alive, but acted cold. I decided that they needed to be moved to a less deep "nest" and I put them in an easter basket. One refuses to stay in it. He keeps plopping himself out and I've had to put him back in 3 different times. The other two aren't as active. I figure that this basket is more nest like, so hopefully the parents will accept it easier. But they hate me for messing with the babies, and now they threaten me everytime they see me. I HATE BIRDS!!! But I don't wish death on any of them.
My mom saw the kids next door messing with a tree, a couple of days ago. She already knew the birds hated them, so she asked if they were messing with a nest. They told her no, that they had a ball stuck. Not likely! Then magically the nest fell yesterday? I think not! I have a feeling the little jerks (or their friends) knocked it down. Which pisses me off because what parent doesn't teach their child to leave things alone? And on top of it...what kind of parent (or person) stands by and watches as their kids terrorize helpless baby animals??? If my kid ever even thought about doing something like that, they would pray that they never saw another bird again, by the time I got done with them. People in general suck! I don't expect the babies to survive, but at least they were given a second chance. :(
There's these crazy black birds that have started to reside in my neighborhood. You talk about aggressive and loud? For the past couple of weeks, these birds have been dive-bombing my neighbor's kids when they're in the yard. I actually felt sorry for them. Then yesterday, the kids had over some friends. The oldest kid must have been around 10 years old. They had water guns outside and were firing at the birds as the birds dived at them. Never thought anything because it's a daily thing and the kids have a right to defend themselves.
That is until I noticed all the kids gathered in a circle staring at the ground. Then they began firing their water guns at whatever they were gathered around. As if that wasn't suspesious, they began to kick at it. I sent Mark over to the fence line and sure enough, it was a baby black bird. I was pissed, I sent my brother into the yard to retrieve the poor little thing. Ok, I realize that once a baby falls from the tree, survival is rare, but I was not going to let them torture it to death. Then, as my brother was walking over to get it, we noticed the kids had found another one and were poking it with the water gun. So now we had two babies, and two furious parent birds. I had no idea what to do, so I grabbed an old easter bucket and put them in it. I have tried for many years to raise baby birds, and they ALL die! I knew that they'd have to be put up in "our" tree for even a chance of surviving. I put the bucket up, like it's a nest and before I know it, I see the kids taking a big stick over to where the second baby was found. They start poking something and then hand the stick to the 2 year old, who follows their lead. My brother went right back over and got that one too. Their father was standing out there watching the whole thing, and my brother asked him if there were any other birds. He doesn't speak very good english, but he was able to say there were 3 or 4 total.
We only found three. The parents are stuck to our tree now, but I had yet to see them go into the bucket I had out there. So first thing this morning, expecting to find the babies dead, I went and peaked in. All three were still alive, but acted cold. I decided that they needed to be moved to a less deep "nest" and I put them in an easter basket. One refuses to stay in it. He keeps plopping himself out and I've had to put him back in 3 different times. The other two aren't as active. I figure that this basket is more nest like, so hopefully the parents will accept it easier. But they hate me for messing with the babies, and now they threaten me everytime they see me. I HATE BIRDS!!! But I don't wish death on any of them.
My mom saw the kids next door messing with a tree, a couple of days ago. She already knew the birds hated them, so she asked if they were messing with a nest. They told her no, that they had a ball stuck. Not likely! Then magically the nest fell yesterday? I think not! I have a feeling the little jerks (or their friends) knocked it down. Which pisses me off because what parent doesn't teach their child to leave things alone? And on top of it...what kind of parent (or person) stands by and watches as their kids terrorize helpless baby animals??? If my kid ever even thought about doing something like that, they would pray that they never saw another bird again, by the time I got done with them. People in general suck! I don't expect the babies to survive, but at least they were given a second chance. :(
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