Sunday, June 16, 2013


Oh man... you so can't believe where I went yesterday. Sitting down? To check out an old folks home! Well... sorta. It's really a retirement living facility but OMG. It's so totally nuts that this is now becoming my future. 

Turns out that I know some people... granted a little older than I... who are signing up for this place. Key word here is: signing up. Apparently you need to get your name on a list, with a deposit of course, so that when you really ARE ready to downsize and move to this place... villas/apts./ass't living/etc... you'll then have a chance to say either OKAY. WHAT'S AVAILABLE or THANKS. BUT I'M NOT READY YET. And then they'll just keep your name on the list and come back to you when something else opens up. My number is 1552 in case you're interested.

Best of all however is that when you DO move there, once you're all settled in... they supposedly can never kick you out no matter what level of medical help will ever be needed. As in: at first I have to move in all independently, happy, healthy and uh... like know who the President is. But once I need assisted living let's say... they'll not only move me up a level but I'll also be able to have totally wonderful medical care. 

And then... let's say I get REALLY old and feeble and have no clue where I am or who you are, or if it's even night or day, they'll move me right smack on up to the nursing home level. Which BTW... I'm counting on never seeing since I've already given directions to my kid to pop a bunch of meds into my hand so I can down them with Vodka or something and gently kiss this world goodbye. Oh yeah... and in case I ever run out of money... yippee. They can't even kick me out due to finances. Uh... well so they say. Anyway...

Yesterday's mission was to see what it looked like and learn just what the costs of all this care could be. Especially given I have no Long Term Health Care plan. But as I said, apparently once you're in... you're in for life. They can never kick you out, no matter what your finances. Which is good since I don't actually know ANYone wanting to actually care for me once I become immobile or am totally blind or can't feed myself. And trust me...  forget about immobility or blindness. Way more important... I DO love to eat thus being fed is way high up on my list.

So as it turns out... the whole set up is really great according to the word on the street but there is... uh... one slight glitch. You have to be able to enter this living community in pretty decent health. As in: you need to be like a real person who can walk, talk, be somewhat healthy, be of sound mind, and basically know what the fuck is going on in the world. Which means: I now have to figure out specifically what the exact time span is between my still having all my wits about me versus when I'll fall and never again be able to walk or even when I might be struck with some crazy ass medical event that will render me ineligible for initial residency. Now THAT sort of timing is kinda hard to forecast.

If God could only give me a heads' up I'd really be thrilled since THEN I'd know the exact moment I should enter this place to begin with. As in: let me know the day BEFORE I become stricken with some bullshit disease and/or problem. Letting me know AFTER will be too late.

If things go according to my personal schedule, I'm sorta thinking I won't need this place for at least another 8 years yet, but never say never. Believe you me... I'll feel really badly to leave my house, but if I stay here... who the hell will help me? Who will nurse me? Not to mention... talk about costly. Full time nursing help at home, which I know from first hand experience, comes at no cheapo price whatsoever. Therefore I do have to somehow figure out the right time to pull up stakes and head on over to this fantastic Pre Old Folks Home. And oh yeah...

As for keeping me alive while I can do nothing on my own but sit and blankly stare at a TV set all day long while dribble is coming down my mouth is SO not what I call quality of living. Which is where the vodka and meds come in. To prolong my life while I have no clue what day is what or can't do a damn thing but gaze out a window in sheer oblivion is nothing more than a financial drain if you ask me. In which case... I'll be happy to merely say: Thanks but no thanks. Do me in and let's call it a day.

The grounds of this place is huge. And the place is immaculate. And the staff are really nice. And all the residents look pretty damn thrilled about living there. Uh... they also look old, but by the time I'm ready for this I'm thinking I'll look old, too. It has a five star rating from the State of North Carolina and it's like THE place to be when you're still loving life, but want to plan for the future. I've got a major choice of  the type of independent living space I'd want but have no clue yet which one I'll choose in the end.

I could have a three bedroom home type space or I could have a huge two bedroom apt. with a balcony and den. Or I could have one of the other 23 zillion layouts. For now... I can only hope that I'll have plenty of time left to decide. Which brings me to: They have my deposit. They gave me a number. Now I just have to figure out how old I wanna be before I check in. Hoping of course, it's before I actually "check out".

Thursday, June 6, 2013


Literally. For today was the day I had my colon examined. Not even funny. I can't even believe how poorly the prep had gone yesterday, but I DID try my best. I swear.

I sat with my glass, pouring from my four liter jug and it must have taken me a good three hours to get down 3/5ths of the crapola poison. I seriously wanted to throw up the entire time, but I came armed. I had a glass of iced water next to me so that I could wash out the taste after three consecutive gulps. Plus, in case that didn't work, I also had an orange Popsicle on the other side of me in case I need even further ammo. Happily I used them both. Unhappily neither really did the trick to disguise the poison.

However, after drinking about 3/5ths of the crap, I finally said to myself: THAT'S IT. MY WORK HERE IS DONE. At least I thought it was anyway. In fact, I actually even tried to do another couple of glasses after my shower last night, but I gagged before the glass even got to my mouth so I said to hell with it.

Which is exactly what I told the nurse this morning. I basically said I was pretty sure I was 95% cleansed; go with that, please. Apparently however, they like to go with 100% cleansed. Which is why they then decided... sitting down??... I needed a Fleet enema. Which is FOR SURE something I normally would never EVER consider having done. On the other hand, I didn't want to go through the poison prep bit YET AGAIN, so bingo. I complied. Twice in fact. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??? THEY GAVE ME TWO!!! Can you even IMAGINE the state I was in before I even entered the surgical room?? Don't even ask. Had I not had one bit of anything left in my colon, I would have CERtainly had a sh^t fit, you can be sure. But alas... finally. I was cleaned and ready to go.

I was given the heavenly meds via my IV and boom. Next thing you know I was wide awake with everything over. Except for when the doctor came in and told me: BTW... WE REMOVED SEVEN POLYPS AND GUESS WHAT? YOU NOW HAVE TO COME IN AND HAVE A COLONSCOPY SCAN EVERY TWO YEARS instead of three!!! AND OH YEAH.... WE SENT EVERYTHING OFF FOR A BIOPSY BUT I AM PRETTY SURE ALL IS FINE. Pretty sure??? OMG. SHOOT ME NOW. I am telling you right here and now, I have NO TIME WHATSOEVER TO HAVE COLON CANCER. And if I DO... I can promise you there is NO way in hell I can handle having a colostomy bag. Are you f*cking KIDDING ME?? DEFINITELY shoot me now AND slit my wrists, all at the same time. 

Which only means, I SO have to pray the biopsies come back negative and thus, I'll have a clean bill of health. I'd have a freakin' heart attack otherwise. For as it happens, I don't really do major, life threatening disease very well. I do MUCH better at meaningless fun and frolic.

Anyway, you'd almost think that this was to be the end of my ordeal today. But no such luck. Because... FOR SOME GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT REASON... when I woke up from the anesthesia, all of a sudden my right eye was in HUGE PAIN from what felt like someone took a knife and cut right smack straight across my eyeball. It was horrible, let alone so damn mysterious. So...

Wanna guess where I headed IMMEDIATELY after the ass doctor. TO THE EYE DOCTOR. I am so telling you... YESTERDAY WAS CRAZY. TODAY WAS NUTS. Tomorrow better be God damn glorious is all I can say. Anyway... the eye doctor did what he had to do... and I go back in the morning at 10:30 no less and I am crossing my fingers I come out happy as a lark high on weed.

Which now that I think of it, could possibly be a great thing to consider RIGHT NOW as a matter of fact. But I shan't. Instead I'll head to the kitchen and eat some popcorn which I haven't been able to have in a week. You on the other hand, need to head to your ass doctor and have your own colonoscopy. IT'S SO SO IMPORTANT.     

Sunday, June 2, 2013


Man. I just knew it wouldn't last. Sure enough... the temps are in the 80s.... granted only low 80s so far... but summer is definitely here and I'm none to pleased about it either. I so hate heat.

So much in fact that see that fan off to the side? It's one that I assembled earlier today. And I DO mean assembled. No one part was ever attached to another part... but I do have to say that I have no reason whatsoever to bitch since it was totally easy to put together. Thank God.

As it happens, every room in my house has a ceiling fan. Except for two, that is. There isn't one in my dining room nor in my kitchen. And in summer I sorta NEED an extra boost in the kitchen when I'm busy whipping up intense gourmet meals like let's say a bowl of Cherrios or a melted tuna sandwich. Or when I'm drilling, painting, cutting fabric, or God only knows what. 

Which is where this extra fan comes in. I guess I could have a ceiling fan installed but 1.) this one is way cheaper and 2.) if I went the ceiling fan route I'm picturing all my papers, projects, utensils, etc. would be flying all over the place. Enter: a free standing pedestal fan. I happened to pick this up at Costco actually, when I was there last month.

In the meantime, see how nice and tall it's standing in the picture up there?? See how absolutely perfect it looks like it's going to work out? Yeah... well think again. Because while everything about this deal is indeed great, I do have one slight glitch. That nice tall height??? Uh... it lasts for all of about 30 seconds before it begins to slide way down to the bottom. Kinda like in the picture below. Geez... so not good.

I know. Total bummer. Believe you me... I tried turning the interior plastic screw PLENTY in hopes that it would hold the extension rod up like its supposed to. But apparently, no such luck. For as I said... oh it'll remain tall alright, but also as I said... for seconds only. Maybe 60 at most. Somehow the plastic screw threads are not really doing the job which only means I have to now go to plan B. Damnit.

Meaning: I see now that I'll have to call my buddy Maxie and describe my problem to him for I know he can help. He always does. I'm thinking that maybe we can get a plastic and/or rubber O ring to stick inside somewhere so the inner extension can't slip down, even though it's supposedly screwed tightly. Actually now that I think about it, maybe there even WAS one included in the box, but I really doubt it. I did read the easy instructions and they never once mentioned anything about a support ring. Which is too bad, since it so needs it.

On the other hand, this fan is FANTASTIC. <---- Nice tag line, right?? I turned it on as soon as I got it all assembled and was practically BLOWN AWAY. Literally AND figuratively. You can't believe it... it's like you've got a baby indoor hurricane going on when you put it on top speed. Which is why btw, I immediately moved it to it's lowest speed.

All in all... I'm pretty impressed with this fan, I must say. And believe me... I'll be using it all summer long. Of course my kid will want to use it all WINTER long since it's never too cold for him ever. Honestly... 32 degrees outside? Who needs a coat?? Ramp up the A.C! But whatever.

For now I'm just thinking I'll be pleased as punch once I get the damn thing to stay raised. Better yet... during all the months when it's too chilly for the A.C. but you still need a little breeze happening, boom. This will be perfect. Which is sorta funny considering the one time I NEVER use my ceiling fan is when I go to sleep. In Florida I couldn't consider NOT using it. Here? All of a sudden I totally hate a breeze blowing on me while snoozing. It's like I've become draft sensitive.

And you know what that means, don't you? It's the first tell tale sign that OMG. I'm OLD!

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Okay. So I'll give you three guesses what this photo is all about. Think: next Thursday. And... what I need to DRINK on Wednesday. All of it, too. Don't even ASK. I am totally freaked.

Okay. Time's up. And in case you missed it... the correct answer to the significance of this picture is: Gulp. I'm scheduled for a colonoscopy next week.

Which is normally pretty okay BUT yesterday, the minute I picked up these two prep items for the procedure... I thought I'd have a heart attack right then and there in the pharmacy. WHAT? ALL THAT??? I HAVE TO ACTUALLY DRINK ALL THAT?? Holy Mother Crap. Which is exactly what I said to the pharmacist in utter SHOCK when he brought this to me from behind the counter. ImMEDiately my heart began to pound like crazy. And it basically hasn't stopped yet.

Turns out about a year ago, the the doctors in this particular practice totally revamped the prep procedure for colonoscopies. Excuse me? Revamped? This is way more like a COMPLETE OVERHAUL if you ask me. Trust me... I've been having colonoscopies ever since I turned 50 and I well remember the days when you simply had to drink 4 ounces of a MAJOR concentrated phospho soda laxative. And believe me... it was no picnic then either. But whoa. AT LEAST YOU'D BE FINISHED AFTER 4 OZ. But nowadays??? Now I have to drink 4 FREAKIN' LITERS of this poison!! Holy sh*. Kill me now. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. I can flavor it with Crystal Light or something, but still. I'd like to slit my wrists altogether.

Seriously. This is just ridiculous. I'm thinking this sort of prepping is what might be needed for animals the size of elephants. For humans?? Totally not necessary. Well, according to the Linda School of Medicine, anyway. Plus... the doctors added an ADDITIONAL cleansing technique. As in: beginning five days before hand (which means today) I have to ALSO mix some of the Miralax powder into a glass of clear liquid each morning which is beFORE I even begin working on the big huge jug concoction. (which means next Wednesday) Can you even iMAGine?? On the other hand... I am SO praying I lose at least 18lbs from this entire ordeal! Man... if only.

In the meantime, this morning when I went to mix some of the Miralax into a drink, MY take was: I didn't even NEED to drink it. Why? Because get this... I was ALREADY pretty much cleansed given I was so damn freaked about all this that I was in the bathroom three times before 10 o'clock! There was no longer anything left in me to beGIN with! Oh man.... this is SO not my cup of tea.

Oh yeah... plus I have to now begin watching what foods I eat. As in: good bye popcorn for the next few days. As well as strawberries, tomatoes, nuts, grains and anything else with seeds. Which I sorta feel is like a free ticket to cakes and ice cream. In fact tonight, I'm going out to dinner so I'm already thinking steak and baked potato which btw, I haven't had in MONTHS.

For now however, I'll simply follow all these crazy ass dietary rules, counting down the days until the big EVENT and then bingo. All my fretting will be well behind me.

Uh... no pun intended.