Thursday, February 16, 2006

2/16/06 Thursday
I’m doing better. The fever broke last night. Just changed all the sheets as everything was soaking wet. I am tired but have a busy day. Today I take Wayne to the MS luncheon. We’ve missed the last one so I want to make sure to get him there today. That may be tough as Fred wants to go to the store and after all it’s his car I drive while Cherie is at work. Better give him a call. Gonna hit the shower now to clean up from a night of sweating.
I’m getting more and more hits on the blog and some regular readers. This MapStats thing is cool. It lets me know who is looking at my site and where they are from. So far the Netherlands is the farthest out I have reached.
It’s almost 10:00. I will take Wayne to his luncheon first and then to get some groceries. Fred said he would go to the store after and that Barb may get her check today so we could get her some food also. I am tired. Running about a 6 on the Bob scale. Ordered my medicine refills from the VA online. That was confusing today. Didn’t know which was which because they just used numbers instead of saying the name of the pills so I ordered them all. Mostly I need the migraine stuff.
I probably should fix something to eat. Only had a bowl of cereal yesterday. I don’t feel the sensation of hunger because of the brain injury but I can hear my stomach making lots of noise.
Just got back from taking everyone around. I am exhausted. I got Wayne to the store and Fred called. He said Barb got her check so I picked her up, took her to get it cashed and then to buy groceries. Had a hard time when I was with Fred at the grocery store. The leg wasn’t working and the disorientation was bad. Wasn’t sure if I would make it. Getting back to the house I took his groceries up and then we ran over to Tom’s Marathon to get Fred’s tire looked at. Tom was manning the station alone so asked if I could help. “Sure” I said. Taking the tire off I found the problem. It was a piece of metal we probably picked up when we took Barb to the scrap yard to turn in her beer cans for the average five bucks she gets. Tom showed me how so I put a plug in the tire. It was hard for me to do because I am still pretty weak. I’ll have to write more when I feel stronger. Need to rest.

I guess this fever took more out of me than I thought. My tolerance for crap was at an all time low. Got mad at Wayne because of his constant “I’m sorry” stuff. When I told him to quit it he said he wouldn’t. Wrong answer. “If you don’t quit your whiny ass crap then your going to hear it from me” I yelled at him and went off. I know he is depressed but will not allow him to keep that stinking thinking going. He has to learn that he has the power to choose how to think. I told him that instead of focusing on how bad he’s got it and what he can no longer do he needs to think about what he can do. That’s one of the reasons I take him to the MS luncheon. The people there are in far worse shape than he is but still keep going and positive.
The luncheon, by the way, was not today. They had rescheduled it for next Thursday but we didn’t know that. I just put it in the calendar to make sure it happens.
We just got a copy of the will and notification of when the probate hearing will be held. It will be on the 27th and that will be tough. I get my pension check on the first of the month and we had drained our savings when we went to Texas for my grandmother’s funeral. I literally can’t afford the gas to go there at that date. Two days later and it would have been fine. Time to do some figuring out.

Just checked MapStats and see that my brother Larry looked at my blog at 4:14. Wonder what he thinks about it, for that matter I wonder what he thinks in general. I am still not doing good. There was blood in the toilette the last time I went. I’ll have to keep an eye on that potential problem. (Sorry to the readers out there. This journal also allows me to document medical issues for the doctors because I won’t remember when I see them so unpleasant details like this will be there)

It’s 8:20. I think I must call it a day. Real tired. Good night all.
No wait. Here's something my son in Iraq sent me that I thought was neat so will share with the world (You know, the small world of those who read this)
A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly
jar from its hiding place in the closet.
She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully.
Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention
but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of
voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.
"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in
the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a
"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.
"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head
And my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a
Miracle cost?"
"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help
you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will
Get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and
asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
"I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know
he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."
"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.
"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly.
"And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need
"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven
cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. "
He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her
mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your
brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,
Specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.
Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had
Led them to this place.
That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how
Much it would have cost?"
Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle dollar
And eleven cents .... plus the faith of a little child..

No comments: