The Clone Blog II

Health issues necessitate me writing another one of my clone blogs. Those issues are numerous. Final diagnoses: Pneumonitis; multiple right lung nodules, likely benign, but with no comparison cannot exclude neoplasm; left kidney upper pole low-attenuation exophytic lesion, likely a hyperdense cyst. Must follow up with CT scan in 3 months to compare.

So here I am, at home. Completely exhausted. Everything I do tires me. But I still suffer from insomnia (some things never change), so the night before last while I was awake for several hours, I had a bowl of cereal and watched a movie. The following morning I awoke at 8 a.m. (very late for me), made myself a breakfast smoothie, then became so overwhelmingly tired, I had to rest on the couch where I fell into a coma for several minutes.

I have to admit, I'm a little overwhelmed by what has been happening lately. I think I handled the breast cancer problem quite well. I've always said that nothing scares me more than not breathing. But while still dealing with the lung problem and continuing to take all my asthma and cancer meds, I've had to assimilate what occurred at my oncologist's office the day before yesterday.

During a routine mammogram, something "suspicious" showed up on the breast where I didn't have breast cancer. Whoa! Really? I decided right there that if I have breast cancer again, I'm NOT going through chemo and radiation again. The surgeon who cut out my tumor left a gigantic scar that deformed my right breast. If I have to go through that again, I'm having a double mastectomy.

And the CAT scan I had on my lungs while I was hospitalized showed some sort of growth on my kidneys. My kidneys? Are you serious? And then I remembered this lump that had been on my lower back for the past couple of years. I had asked a doctor what she thought about it, and she thought nothing of it, so I let it go. But now I know that the lump is probably the growth that showed up on the CAT scan. 

So all of these new conditions were found quite by accident but they require me to get another mammogram next week and a CAT scan on my kidneys next week too. 

In addition to those visits, I'm supposed to return to my new GP (who started this whole thing rolling by admitting me – thank you, Dr. Gowda – I'm not being sarcastic – if not for his quick appraisal of my breathing problems, I don't know how quickly my condition would have deteriorated). As a result of all of those tests and doctor visits, I think I'll hold off on seeing the pulmonary doctor again until after I return from Virginia the beginning of July.

If you know me, you will know this is killing me. I can't write for long periods of time, I can't crochet for long periods of time, and I can't do anything that requires physical effort without becoming completely exhausted. I suffer from dizziness and lightheadedness, which, I've discovered may be a result of my persistent low potassium count. The infection still rages in my lungs and if I could just get rid of that one thing, I know I would feel so much better.

So yes, to save myself from even more exhaustion, I have cloned this blog, which appears in all of the following blogs:

Writing Creatively

My Heart Blogs To You

Help For Single Parents

Theresa Wiza's Blog

Your Weird Dreams

Paranormal Minds

Product Favorites

All Craft Connection

Your Blog Connection

Heading East

Looks like I'll be heading east again this summer to visit my son. Though I love visiting him and I miss him terribly because he lives so far away, staying in hot hot Quantico for the whole two weeks has no appeal to me whatsoever. If I want to be THAT hot, I can melt outside my own home in my own town's heat and humidity. 

However (if I had a mustache, I'd be twisting it now) I have a plan: He wants to take the kids somewhere fun – hopefully NOT in Virginia. I'd rather go north, far north, than stay in that hot and humid state. One very hot and humid summer day last year, we went to an amusement park in Virginia and I had to jump in the kids' water play area to prevent myself from dying. 

Seems we can never enjoy a perfect temperature. One holiday season we went to New York City and took a horse and carriage ride through Central Park, shivering the whole time. We had fun, but I'd like just once to have really nice weather when I visit him with his kids.

This time, because it's so hot this season, I'd like to visit some place a little further north. Woodbridge, New Jersey, is only about four and a half hours from where my son lives if we go through the New Jersey Turnpike. The kids would enjoy Kids Village, the Children's Museum of Somerset County, or (and this is the one that appeals to me the most) the Crystal Springs Family Aquatic Center in East Brunswick, which is the same distance from his home. 

Central New Jersey offers so many places to visit. If the weather is cooler, we can visit the Bamboo Forest at Rugers Gardens or Carteret Waterfront and Veteran's Park. Keeping the kids occupied won't be a problem. And who knows, maybe we'll run into Bruce Springsteen or Jon Bon Jovi, both New Jersey guys. Or John Travolta strutting to Staying Alive. 

OK, reality check here – I doubt we'll run into any of them, but because we will be so close to Central New Jersey and because they offer so many attractions, getting out of Virginia greatly appeals to me. And I love those Jersey accents!

As I write this blog, today is the day before Memorial Day. I'd like to wish my Marine son, who has served his country for a decade now, including four tours in Iraq, a Happy Memorial Day. I honor you for your service, and I pray for all those families who, like me, suffered through years of torment, but who, unlike me, don't have a son or daughter to visit. Semper Fi, Greg! I love you!

Help! I'm Being Bombarded With Hot Dogs!

Yesterday I drove to Danville, Illinois, with my youngest daughter (Brittney) so she could get her hair done. While her sister-in-law, Laura, highlighted and cut her hair, I watched her children (my grandchildren), Audery, Nolan, and Avery, as I awaited the arrival of their other grandmother who, when she arrived, would take them and her three other grandchildren, Noah, Isaiah, and Joshua (Laura's boys), with her on vacation to Indianapolis.

Brittney had brought along a bag of cheese popcorn, her only meal for the day so far. She asked me if I wanted some. After taking a bite of it, however, she discovered that it was actually spicy cheese popcorn. Not wanting to deprive her of her breakfast and lunch, I decided I would try just one. She handed me the bag to taste. Yes, a little spicy, but good. I asked Noah, who was sitting next to me, if he wanted to try it. 

But instead of asking Noah, "Would you like some spicy cheese popcorn," I asked, "Would you like a spicy hotdog?" 

Don't think about that for too long. I didn't even realize I had said it (as usual), but fortunately I have a daughter who pays attention to every mistake I make. Brittney noticed.

Had she not been standing next to me at the time, I might have questioned Noah's polite refusal as he smiled the kind of smile that said, wow, that was weird, but Brittney, always aware of my screw-ups, noticed immediately what I said and enjoyed bringing it to my attention.

On the way home, I said something else that ended up being hotdog instead of what it should have been, and we both laughed and discussed this strange oddity that has now, for reasons unknown, become part of my life.

WHY? OH WHY AM I FIXATED ON HOTDOGS? I don't even like hotdogs, unless they're grilled and covered with all kinds of toppings. And then I remembered that Brittney had bought me a hotdog at Audrey's practice game the night before. Yeah, that must be why I can't stop accidentally talking about hot dogs (roll eyes).

What is it with me and hotdogs, I wondered aloud as Brittney drove me home. And then I forgot about it until I arrived home. As serendipitous as it sounds ;) hotdogs again became the focus of my attention when I noticed I had received a message from Lindsey, one of my other daughters, asking me how long she should boil hotdogs since she was used to just grilling them and now had to boil them for children who apparently ate only boiled hot dogs.

Again, with the hotdogs!

STOP, Universe, I found myself screaming! Why are you slamming me in the head with hotdogs lately? Is some subliminal message hiding inside these hotdogs? And why am I now calling everything a hotdog?

My brain is flooded with images of hot dogs. I remember one of my grandchildren, Sarah, when she first visited me as a little girl after I moved into a manufactured home community. She noticed the shape of most of the homes and wanted to know why some people lived in cracker houses and others lived in hotdog houses.

Just this morning I received a message from a dear friend of mine who talked about George Bailey (from one of my favorite movies, It's a Wonderful Life). And what did George Bailey say every time he walked into the store after he said, "I wish I had a million dollars"? – you guess it – Hot Dog!

The informal version of the words, "hot dog," or "hotdog," according to the dictionary that came with my Text Edit program on my MacBook Pro, is that hot dog is (I would say "was" since I haven't heard anybody since George Bailey use the word in this manner) used to express delight or enthusiastic approval. It also means a person who shows off – as in one who performs stunts or tricks.

I think of my friend Katherine (God rest her soul) who would say to me, what do you think the Universe is trying to tell you? Well, Katherine, I've decided the Universe has fast-forwarded to the end of time and is now sending me weird messages that make no sense, like, "You must now eat hotdogs for the rest of your life," or "Start hoarding hot dogs." Maybe, if I think about this positively, the Universe is saying, "You will now be receiving a million dollars – hotdog!" (I kind of like that last one.)

But maybe it's just the wiring in my brain that's screwed up, because I confuse all kinds of items. Why else would I refer to a peacock as a penguin, the dishwasher as a microwave, and popcorn as a hot dog? Sometimes I wish I could upload a program to fix the problem. 

Then again, I'd miss out on so many blog opportunities, like the ones below:

Penguins and Peacocks 

We're Gonna See Penguins? 

Whatever it is, hot dogs became fodder for this blog, so thank you for visiting my hot dog (I mean my blog). 

A Better Way to Pay for a College Education

Saving for a college education for yourself or your children? Financial aid is probably a necessity. Should you get a student loan? Should you apply for scholarships? How do you navigate through the process? Read this:

Brought to You by SNHU.EDU Online College Programs

Accounting Technique Saves Money but Scares Business Owner

When my youngest kids were still in grammar and high school, I worked as a designer for a small printing company. I loved that job. I could sit at my desk, erase the world around me, and focus on design (play) all day long. For hours I would get lost in my work, rising only to use the wash room. I rarely left for lunch, because I ate at my desk.

One day the boss came up to my desk and asked me if I would mind taking over the books. Sure, I told her, "as long as you don't mind if I use my own special accounting techniques."

She looked quizzical. 

"I like to add buffers," I explained.

At this point I couldn't tell if she was confused, concerned, or scared, so I continued, "Say, for example, I write a check for $21.25. I'll write in $21.25, but I'll subtract from the balance $22, so I have a buffer of $.75. And if I receive $21.25, I record it as $21.25, but I add only $21 to the balance so I save $.25."

She stood there for an uncomfortably long period of time while my co-worker (her son and a very good friend of mine) snickered. She finally shook her head in frustration and muttered, "Never mind."



Brought To By Outright.com

I could probably have saved her some grief by directing her to outright.com, an online accounting tool, but it didn't exist back then. Too bad. She could have organized all of her small business finances in one place, taken advantage of all kinds of tax deductions, from depreciation on her business vehicles, to healthcare and retirement, and I would have enjoyed the extra income. 

Outright even has an app for that.

The Family Photographer – Grandma Paparazzi

One of my favorite and most treasured purchases is a camera I bought in the 1980s. I followed my children around capturing their cute expressions and more or less stalked my kids. 

And then I had grandchildren – lots of them – and the camera took on special significance. I discovered that when they are young, grandchildren don't yell at you with comments like, "GRANDMA PUT THAT THING DOWN!" or, "GRANDMA, STOP ALREADY!" like their parents do.

No, they quietly go about their business as I hide behind couches and stand at entrances to rooms where they play, oblivious to my paparazzi-style photo taking.

I was doing quite well until little Avery was born. Perhaps it was purely coincidental, but I wonder…

Poor Dumb Bird Sisyphus

When I visited my daughter and her boyfriend in their new apartment, I saw a bird sitting on the hood of Lindsey's car.

"Yeah, I know," Lindsey said. Lindsey walked outside and removed all the twigs from the windshield. 

Within seconds, the bird was back with more twigs. And again, Lindsey walked outside to remove them. In the midst of moving and rearranging furniture and other items, Lindsey would return to her car occasionally and remove all of the twigs the bird placed there.

After a while, we had to go shopping. Lindsey removed all the twigs – again – and we were on our way.

When we returned, the bird immediately flew onto the car and began building her nest again again. Like the Greek god who was condemned to the eternal task of carrying a large boulder up a hill that repeatedly fell down the hill, the bird I've named Sisyphus seems to be forever condemned to building nests in the hoods of automobiles (she also uses neighbor's cars), where the nests get destroyed again and again by the auto's owners and poor little Sisyphus must rebuild her nest again and again – forever doomed to building nests.

Perhaps we should have placed food for the poor thing in the back yard.