HYPOCHONDRIAC IN TRAINING

I am sick.  My body aches.  My eyes burn.  My chest hurts.  I cough in fits.

I don't have a fever.

How can I feel so rotten and not have a fever?  I feel feverish, but nothing.  My forehead is cool.  The thermometer confirmed it with a reading of 98.7.  I came home early from work.  They didn't feel sorry for me there, they just didn't want to catch what I had, what ever it was.

When I got home I went to bed where I proceded to hack up my right lung, and then my left lung.  Nobody came so I put them back in and hacked them up again.  And again.  And again.

Nobody checked on me for almost 6 hours.

Dickidoo finally came in and asked if I needed anything.

'Anything as in what?' I asked.

'As in medicine?' he clarified, keeping his distance so as not to breath in my cooties.

'Oh, well, some chest decongestant would be nice.' I moaned, with a hoarse cough for emphasis.  He nodded and hurried out, leaving me disappointed, disappointed because what I really needed was a Nikon D200, fully loaded.  Yeah, that would definitely make me feel better.

Art is cooking supper.  Yay Art.  Of course it took about 5 minutes of my 'I'm coughing myself to death and nobody cares, woe is me!' speech but he got the hint.  Dickidoo is out, he went to our friends' house for a long over due visit.  I think he was glad when I declined the invitation.  No sense being exposed to the cooties any more than necessary.

So what is wrong with me?  I don't know.  I feel feverish, but I don't have a fever.  I get hot and cold flashes, I shiver and bundle up and then over heat.  My head feels like its going to explode, yet it doesn't really hurt, it just feels mega pressurized.  My eyes are burning.  My chest hurts and my coughing fits barely bring up anything.

Where is Dr. McCoy with his tricorder when I need him?  Dr. Crusher?  Anybody?

Oh wait, supper is ready.  Ghostrider Chili.  Mmmmmmmmm, I think I'm feeling better already!

Tags: Hypochondriac

YA KNOW WHAT I HATE?

I hate that where once I would read an article about cancer and not know what it meant, I now know what a lot of the terminology means.

I hate that my mom and sister now know what some of those terms feel like.

I hate that in this day and age of modern medicine and miracle cures we must still revert to the almost barbaric practice of cutting out the afflicted area in order to save cancer patients.

Ya know what I hate?  I hate cancer.  Period.

I'll bet if Dr. McCoy were real and alive he could find a cure for cancer, aided by Dr. Crusher.  Between them and their handy little Tricorders they could cure anything.

Seriously though... if the writers of Star Trek had included an episode where a cure for cancer had been found, I'll bet some Trekky scientist/doctor would make it so.  You saw what they did with Quicktime and mp3 players, those were inspired by Star Trek.

Or maybe... and I guess I'm just being a little selfish here, but maybe we don't need to  spend billions of $ on pictures of all those galaxies far far away that we can never travel to in our life time, so maybe... maybe we should spend the money set aside for that kind of research on something a little closer to home.  Like cancer.

I hate cancer.

Beam me up Scottie!

Tags: Cancer, Star Trek, tricorder

MELEE anyone?

Art came home one Saturday earlier this month complaining about being sore from a 'Melee' session.  Not too sure exactly what a 'Melee' session was, I told him to take some Advil and call me in the morning.  The following Saturday he insisted on me joining him at one of his 'Melee' sessions.

Red flag!  He was in pain after his previous 'Melee' session.  I don't like pain.  In fact I hate pain and avoid it at all cost.

Art just wanted me to take pictures.  Take pictures of pain?  Yeah, I could do that.

'Melee' turned out to be a group of big kids (as in teenagers and grown ups) playing around at the park with big foam wrapped swords, spears and shields.  The duct taped padding is deceptive, the force of the Nerfish weapons easily bring grown men to their knees with tears in their eyes.

Nah, they don't cry, not the 'boo hoo' kind of cry.  Mostly they cuss... loudly.  Even the girls are tiny Amazons and take the hits with all the grace of Zena.  A newbie will only be fooled by their size and feminity once, and after he gets totally clobbered by one of the girls he will forget all of his daddy's stern preachings about not hitting girls.  If you don't hit these girls first they will bring you down... painfully! 

One learns to swing hard and run fast during a 'Melee' session or risk being tenderized by various foam wrapped weapons of mass destruction.  The foam only softens the edges of the weapons, not the blows.  A foam wrapped wooden pole or pvc pipe swung full force at your butt still feels like a wooden pole or pvc pipe being swung full force at your butt.  Quite frankly I think the foam only serves to protect the weapons...

Bruises are badges of honor.  Rocky is covered with them.  She is proudest of the huge one on her thigh.  Even Dickidoo and Zack sport a few discolorations of their own.  Yes, the whole family is involved now.  Becca hasn't attended an official 'Melee' session in the park yet but she has sparred with her brother in the back yard.

Who would have thought the Oompas could pick up weapons and beat the snot out of each other... and their father... with their parents blessings, all the while Mama stood by taking pictures of the whole episode!  

Ironically there has been no fighting in the house amongst the kids lately.  I guess they used all their aggression at the park, or they're saving it for the coming weekend...  Either way I'm enjoying the peace.

Tags: Melee Combat,

So what did Dickidoo get you for his birthday?

So anyhow, yeah, Dickidoo DID actually get me something for his birthday.  In fact he got me 3 somethings.... a really cool travel mug with antlers and camouflage hunters all over it, an Outback vest and an Outback duster.  For those who aren't familiar with dusters, those are the really cool long coats that cowboys wear, the ones with the little cape over the shoulder.  Here is a picture of a similar duster, cowboy not included... damn!

So why did Dickidoo buy ME a present for HIS  birthday?  Well, it could have been for one of two reasons.  First, he has always seemed to make a major purchase of some sort right at my birthday, leaving him financially incapable of buying ME a gift for my birthday, so I have reciprocated by demanding that he buy ME a present for HIS  birthday.  Another reason may have been that his friends were shopping in the same store at the same time we were, and all of his friends were buying their wives stuff.  Bandwagon?  Who cares, I got a really cool travel mug, a vest and a duster!

Colorado Springs has been hit hard by a series of ailments.  My family has picked them up one after the other.  Last week the girls had the stomach flu.  This week they have head colds and Art has the flu.  I had the the Chalupas.  Without going into too much detail let me just say that my digestive system doesn't like Taco Bell Chalupa Supremes as much as my taste buds do.  I find the reward worth the consequences.

My family may not agree if they enter the throne room after me.

I shall be turning Dust Bunnies private for a day so that I can update.  Please check back with me in a couple of days.  I shall just be adding tags but don't want to bombard my loyal readers with repeat alerts.

Till then, have a happy, dusty day!

SUGAR FREE PEEPS.... huh?

Is it just me or does anyone else have problems grasping the concept of sugar free Peeps?  I mean, isn't that what Peeps are... sugar?  That almost makes as much sense as marketing dehydrated water (just add water!).

We got a case of the Just Born sugar free confections in the store today with the Easter shipment and I opened it to read the label.  I couldn't imagine what sugar free Peeps could possibly be made of.  Maltitol, Isomalt, Polyglycitol, Sorbitol, Gelatin, Calcium Chloride, Flavors, Yellow #2, Sucralose, Potassium Sorbate and Carnauba Wax.  It looks more like an EPA warning label than candy ingredients.  All this for a savings of 12 calories per Peep (Sugar Free 20 vs. Regular 32). 

But hey, my broken scale says I'm down to 140 pounds so I don't need to count calories.  I'll have the original sugary Peep in yellow please.

Don't know why but for some reason while I was researching sugar free Peeps, I kept hearing a voice in the back of my head whispering "Soylent green is people!" 

Even more random: Ever notice how Peeps look like Big Bird took a dump in Bert's Easter basket after over dosing on sugar?  Even with that thought in mind I still have to have my Peeps fix every Easter.

Tags: peeps, Easter,

JR. HIGH HURLING CHAMPION (really!)

Rocky was sick yesterday.  She called me from school asking that I pick her up early.  She had gotten sick right in the hallway, right in front of the Vice Principal.  Poor thing I thought, how embarrassing.

Not at all.  Rocky is a hero to her classmates..  She almost barfed all over the vice principal's shoes.  In fact some of the spray probably got on his shiny penny loafers.

I always try to buy the Oompas ice cream when they are nauseous.  The ice cream doesn't help or cure them, it just tastes and feels better coming back up than anything else.  Rocky wanted Cookies and Cream ice cream yesterday.  Normally I would insist on plain vanilla, but she is, after all, the Jr. High Hurling champion so I went to the store and bought her a half gallon of Blue Bunnie Oreo Cookies and Cream.

Note to self:  NEVER buy a child with the stomach flu Cookies and Cream ice cream.  It comes up looking like diarrhea and it gives the child bragging rights "Hey, I tossed my 'cookies and cream'!"

Why can't she be whiney and pitiful like normal sick children?  Needless to say, Rocky spent the day home with me today.  I had to run to the store for some groceries and poor sick little Rocky asked me to get her some Dove chocolate.

"Not if you're going to waste it on your Vice Principal's shoes!"

That was just wrong of me, I know, but I couldn't resist it.  It was in fact a perfect example of 'bachi', or jinxing myself because now my stomach is starting to feel a little weird and I have a head ache.  I picked up some vanilla ice cream, just in case.  Yes, I'm a weenie when it comes to stomach sickness.  That's one thing in all my 47 years that I have just never gotten used to.  The way I see it, if I have to throw up, I may as well enjoy it dang it! 

Hmmmm, maybe I should have bought some coffee ice cream instead.

ps:  no blueberry pee, phew!

CHEMO, Costco and other stuff

Lisa, my oldest sister (aka Squirrleywoman, aka Dirty Dish Fairy) found out yesterday that she will have to undergo chemo treatments after all.  She is having her 'port' fitted even as I sit here.  I have a lot of faith in modern medicine, but am frustrated that we are still struggling to find a cure for this disease that has plagued our planet for generations.  What hair she doesn't lose after her first round of treatments will almost certainly fall off during the second round.  Ironically she cut her long beautiful hair and donated it to Locks for Love just a little while before she found out about the cancer.  Wouldn't it be cool if she picked out a wig that had some of either hers, Gabe's or Art's hair in it? Or maybe she will be like Mama.  Mama is due for her second to the last treatment and still has most of her thick silver hair.  That's Lisa and I in Hawaii last February.  Her hair was longer and more beautiful than mine, but my camera was bigger!  (huh!  Until it got wet, dang it all!)

Costco's opened its first wholesale store in the Springs.  Its up north, although they call it the 'eastside'.  Someone told me that if you were to close your eyes before you walked into the store, and then opened them once you were well into the store that you would think you were in Sam's Club.  I decided to test that theory.  I was by myself and obviously couldn't walk through the crowded entrance on Grand Opening morning with my eyes closed so I merely lowered my gaze to the ground and watched my feet until I was about 50 yards into the store then looked up and around.

Holy Cannoli, I was in Sam's!

Oh, no wait, the signs all say 'Costco'.

Moral of the story, if you already have a Sam's Club membership, don't bother to join Costco because they really are pretty much the same.  They're like cousins.  Sam's is the small town country cousin and Costco is the rich city cousin.  Both offer good bargains in bulk.  The difference is in the amount (Sam's carries a greater variety) and the quality (Costco is more upscale).  Both are amazing stores to browse through and I could very happily spend a whole paycheck there at either one and still leave feeling like I forgot something.

But that's okay, that's what Walmart is for!

And Safeway.  I love Safeway because they always have new stuff to try.  Their bakery just started serving a mocha/caramel cake that is to die for!  We also picked up some blueberry juice cocktail that is very addictive.  It doesn't have that real blueberry taste yet I can't stop drinking it.

I just hope my pee doesn't turn blue!

Tags: Breast Cancer, Chemotherapy, Locks For Love

HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVE!

He leaks gas worse than an old jalopy but he's mine, all mine!

Happy Birthday Dickidoo!

So, what'd you buy me for your birthday, huh?

DREAMS VS. GOALS

Someone at work pointed out that I was too negative.

"I am positively NOT negative!  I'm very positive about my negatives, thank you very much!"

I took a Positive Thinking class in high school eons ago.  I wasn't the teacher's pet, I was more like her pet peeve.

"Think positive child!"  she used to sing in my face.  "Don't waste time on dreams.  Take your fantasies and turn them into goals!"

I got a C in her class, but I never forgot her lessons, or the spittle speckled speeches delivered so passionately 6 inches from my face on an almost daily basis.

"Take your fantasies and turn them into goals."

Hey, it works!  I am now the proud owner of a new-used Nikon D70 of my own (again).  What's next on my list of ... goals?

Hmmmm, I'm thinking it will be a little bit harder to sneak Viggo Mortensen and Sam Sheppard into the house than it was the camera.  Oh well, I'll deal with that bridge when I get to it.  In the mean time I've got a little positive thinking to do.... and a whole lotta goal gettin'!

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I found the old scale that everyone claims is broken.  It was stuffed into the closet with the forgotten Charmin, tossed aside like a worthless collection of springs and metal gears.

I pulled it out and dusted it off.  Except for a crack in the plastic weight indicator pane there was no visible damage.  I set it down gently on the floor and pressed on the top plate.  The needle swung smoothly to the right and the returned to its original position centered on 0.  Another more forceful push this time produced the same results.

So I did it... I stepped fully on the scale, holding my breath as if by restricting the amount of air in my lungs I may weigh less.

It worked!

I now weigh 140 pounds!  That's 10 pounds lighter than I weighed at the end of summer!

Now if only I could get my mirror and clothes to corroborate my amazing weight loss story.

Dickidoo is taking me out to dinner tonight.  As you may recall our Anniversary plans were kind of put on hold after his accident and even though I told him it wasn't necessary, he feels he has to make it up to me.

With a lobster dinner!

Yeow!  Its a good thing I lost those 10 extra pounds!

Ohhhhhhh!  And guess what else I did?

I discovered eBay!  And while I was browsing through the many different shops and auctions I bid for and won ... A BRAND NEW USED NIKON D70!  It took me a couple of days to break the news to Dickidoo because while the camera came at a great bargain, I don't exactly have a spare $300 bucks just sitting around in my checking account.  And a camera like that isn't something you can sneak into the house without anyone noticing... or wondering why we're eating hot dogs for the 7th night in a row...

Actually he took the news of my impulsive investment very well.  We still have all the accessories from the broken D70 which were not compatible with Dickidoo's camera, and can finally use the zoom again. 

 'So that means I don't have to buy you the D200 now right?'

WRONG!

Its going to be fun taking both cameras out at the same time.  I imagine there will be a sort of rivalry to see who is the better photographer.  The Denver March Pow Wow is coming up and will probably be our first outing so be looking for a special Boobidoo vs. Dickidoo photo special around mid March.  By the way, the Southern Oompas are driving out with their parents to join us there...  My babies!  WOO HOO!  I can't wait!

Happy Valentines my friends.  May Cupid sprinkle your love with romance and truffles! 

Happy Birthday grand-oompa Cyrus!  Today you turn the Big 3.  Only 13 more years and you can drive!  15 more years and you can vote!  and in 44 years you'll be the same age as me!  Don't worry, I'll wait up for you! 

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UNDERSTATEMENT

I guess I've been a little distracted lately.  I didn't realize it until I was rummaging around in the bathroom closet this morning.

Two unopened packs of toilet paper were tossed carelessly on top of the mess of semi folded sheets, discarded tee shirts and other paraphernalia that had been stuffed behind the pale blue door.  8 extra rolls of toilet paper is probably not something the average American would get excited about, not even taking into account the additional 12 pack still lying on the love seat where it was carelessly tossed after a recent shopping trip, but this is the House of Loompa, where toilet paper is in high demand and practically flies off the rolls in such alarming speed that rationing has seriously been considered.

In my preoccupation I seem to have been on a subconscious TP buying spree.  Almost every trip to the store resulted in another pack of twin ply quilted softness.  We now have enough Charmin to keep the Oompas tushes squeaky clean for the next month!

Ah, who am I kidding, there is no such thing as 'enough' toilet paper in the House of Loompa!  They'll probably use up this plethora of tp in a matter of hours.

Lisa's surgery was a success and she is resting at home.  She has already been on the computer and sent me a picture of her incision.  At first I found the scar quite terrible to see, but then I was over come by its beauty.  Morbid you say?  Not at all.  To me the scar is a testament of her strength, courage and determination to defeat this disease that threatened her life.  Pink is the color chosen for Breast Cancer Survivors, but its pink steel.  Beautiful pink steel.

Mama is doing well also.  She is preparing for her 10th of 12 chemo treatments.  Her last one should be mid March.  Thanks from the bottom of my heart for all of the prayers and well wishes... again!  You folks are amazing!

"A woman is like a tea bag, you never know how strong she is until she gets into hot water."  Eleanor Roosevelt

Tags: Breast Cancer, pink steel

Squirrellywoman

Even as I sit here trying to sort out my thoughts she is making plans.  As I wonder 'why her?' she wonders 'What next?'

I touch my breasts and wondered... is it there?  She touches hers and knows.  I try to imagine living without them.  She knows she cannot live with them and she prepares to let go.

It is her battle but she does not face it alone.   She knows this and draws strength from those of us who stand by so willingly and yet so helplessly.  We pray, oh God, we pray!  We smile, we hug, we hope and promise.  We ignore the shadows of fear and doubt that creep into the recesses of our minds.  There is no time for them, there is no place.  They are not allowed.

One cannot just 'know' a person with cancer.  It becomes a part of your life as well.  Where once it was just a word used on rare occasion, now it flies through the air with almost casual acceptance.  I do not accept it.  She does not accept it.  There is no time in our lives for it, no place.  It is not allowed.

And so, even as I sit here trying to understand, she prepares for battle.  Her bag is packed.  Her knight in shining armor is beside her while their daughters summoning up strength they probably never knew they had.  Cancer has crept into their lives and they stand together to fight it off. 

In a couple of hours her battle will really begin but she will face this enemy well armed.  This time tomorrow she should be back home again, her battle fought, her enemy vanquished, her Knight in shining armor and their daughters fussing over in a natural reversal of roles.

Get well soon Big Sis, we've got a Margarita, tea and truffles date!

Tags: Cancer, breast cancer

HE SAID 'CAUCUS'... (hehehehe!)

Dickidoo and I went to vote in the straw poll at our local caucus this evening.  I walked in ready to do my civic duty, to make my voice heard.  We were right on time.  We're never right on time, we're always late.  But we were right on time for the caucus.  Unfortunately our precinct committee representatives were 15 minutes late but finally, just minutes before the caucus was set to begin I was standing in front of the registrar with my state ID card in hand.

I was not on the list.

Dickidoo was, but I wasn't.   Impossible!  How could that be?  I have been voting in that precinct ever since our arrival in Colorado 14 years ago.  The registrar didn't seem concerned.  She told me to call the office in the morning.  In the mean time there was nothing she could do, I could not vote at the caucus... which I had showed up right on time for.  Her committee member husband inquired if I was sure I was a registered Republican.

'Oh I'm darn sure I'm a registered Republican!' I replied indignantly.  Then suspicion set in... 'It was probably the Democrats that did this, they erased my name!  They shut me up!  They finally took away my voice and shut me up!'

Dickidoo was probably wishing someone WOULD actually shut me up at that point, but he took his little college rule torn off straw ballot with grin and moved to the back of the elementary school classroom.  After pouting in the hallway I finally joined him for the precinct meeting.

Nominations and votes were finalized.  Volunteers were signed up.  I continued to pout loudly about how I was shut up ( obviously figuratively speaking only).  Other citizens showed up... late, but ready to do their civic duty.  They got their torn college ruled ballot and sat down.  One woman scanned the attendance sheet for her father's name.  He wasn't on any of the precinct lists.  "It was the Democrats!"  I warned her. 

The straw poll was counted.  It was Romney, McCain and then Huckabee.  Even if I had voted it still would have been Romney, McCain and then Huckabee.  But I would have known that my vote had been counted.  It may not have made a difference in the election but it would have been counted.  And it would have made a difference to me.

Damn Democratic saboteurs.

Or.... maybe, just possibly... when I registered to vote in Colorado 14 years ago... just perhaps I wasn't affiliated with the Republican party at the time.

Crap.  Gonna have to fix that I suppose.  Well, at least I can still vote.

ps:  Dickidoo is fine.  We will celebrate our Anniversary later, perhaps next year.  Thanks for all the well wishes.

Tags: voting, caucus, politics

24 YEARS AGO TODAY and 1 and a half hours ago today

Today is our 24th Anniversary.  Tonight we were supposed to have king crab legs at home with the Oompas.  Today Dickidoo got in an accident at work.  He just called.  He says he's okay.  He's worried because he thinks his job is on the line.  He's worried because he probably won't be able to buy king crab legs for supper because of the accident.

I'm just worried about him.  He says he's okay except for a bump on the knee.  I won't believe it until I see it.  I don't need king crab legs.  I just need to see him and to know that he is really okay.

Happy Anniversary Steve.  I love you.