This post is WAY past due.  Even Betty Pike, my old and dear friend, sent me an e-mail to tell me she needed an update on my life, as she had not had a phone call, e-mail, or seen a post on my blog.  Bill (Steve's dad) is always trying to get me to give an update, as that is one way he and Marge (Steve's mother) keep up with our lives.
There's terrible news in the Welch family....Lynn (Steve's sister) now has Lymphoma Stage 4.  She is a true fighter, and is getting care that she is content is the best for her, but Stage 4 is nothing to laugh about, for sure.  We are all pitching in to try to help in any way we can, but she is still having a pretty hard time of it.  Jim is ever the faithful, caring man that he has always been, and Alex has moved to live with them, to help with Lynn's care, transportation, comfort, and cheer.  Lynn has a picture posted of Alex sitting with her during chemo.  That is a tough chore.  Chemo centers are not pleasant places.  Everyone (except the care providers) is sick, and many of them are dying.  They know that they are very sick, and they feel like crap, and their faces usually reflect it.  Lynn was smiling bravely and beautifully in her picture she sent.  Some friend of her even had some tee-shirts printed with 'Spunky' on them, and she sent me one.  I keep it on a hanger on the bathroom door between the master bath and our bedroom, so I see it often, and think to pray for her.  It's not like I need a reminder, but I'm also proud of her spirit and courage.
Steve sent off samples of his tissue, hoping that he could donate bone marrow for her, but he was not a match.  He was keenly disappointed.  He wanted to give his sister something else.
My own health is failing rapidly.  I got off chemo in January (18), felt fine, and then had a really bad heart attack in March, on Steve's birthday (22).  I had another one in July, and another one in September.  My Cardiologist used one femoral artery for one surgery, the other one for the second surgery, and had to use my right arm for the third surgery.  The arteries in my left arm were not fit for use, so I will have to behave myself, as they've run out of places to cut me open.  They can only use an artery once, then have to wait a year before using it again.  I've got more replacement parts in my chest than original equipment.
The last time I was in the hospital, they put me on insulin for my diabetes.  My blood sugar is incredibly high.  I am on a sliding scale in the daytime, and take 35 units at bedtime.  I rarely check my blood sugar in the daytime, though, as I'm not about to carry around insulin and a bunch of needles.  My cholesterol is still really high, my respiratory system is making it hard to breathe, my circulatory system is shot, and my digestion is constantly giving me trouble because of the medications I have to take and the fact that I lost a chunk of it to the cancer surgery.
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.
The last time I was at the old St. Mary's Hospital, they about neglected me to death, so I've decided to not go there any more.  I'm going to find another cardiologist who will go to Ft. Sanders.  When I was there for my cancer surgery, the nurses gave me really good care.  I had never liked Ft. Sanders in the past, but I have a new opinion of it as a patient.  I don't believe there's a hospital on the face of the earth that has good views from their windows, and I like to look out windows.  I wish they would make an effort to keep a nice lawn, and encourage some birds and flowers there.  It would be good for the morale of us country girls who like to see green when we look out a window.
Work at Creekside has ground to a halt.  I am not able to work much, and I need to be there to keep up with what work is done.  Janie took a lot of time off to help with Tina (her daughter), and things just piled up there, and it will take a lot of work to bring it back to work conditions.  We will have to keep a fire in the wood stove, though, as it's a bit chilly.  I had two truck loads of fire wood delivered and stacked, so we will have fuel for fires.
Bill Kroepil, my cousin, and his wife, Ruth, came for a visit a couple of months ago, and he offered to come and install tile in the kitchen and downstairs bathroom in February.  That means that we will have to get the bath remodeled, and a new surface put on the kitchen floor.  I am going to have to whip myself into shape.
I bought a storage building from Mike Hemingway, a friend who lives in the trailer park next to our rental trailer, and it will be for storage of what we need to keep there.  A lot of the stuff there can be discarded as useless for the project, or moved back to Clairemont (probably into Steve's garage or the barn) for storage.  Steve and I have talked about putting some stuff into the old bird houses, but they are not easy to get to for trucks, and whatever is put there will have to be light enough to carry easily.
Both of my abdominal hernias have ruptured again, after being repaired several years ago, and they hurt all the time.  I need to get them repaired again, but my heart is not strong enough for major surgery, so that will have to wait.  I'd like to get them done before spring, so I can return to active, useful work.
It's my birthday today, and Amy Kidwell, my neighbor, brought me a bouquet of roses and a lovely card.  She is a sweet little lady, and our families have been friends a long time.  She's a bright ray of sunshine.
I'm cold, but Steve says he's hot, so turning up the heat is no an option.  I think I'll go lay on the bed and cover up for a while.  I wish I could take a nap, but Steve will not let that happen.  He comes to check on me too often, and it keeps me awake.  I like that he cares so much, though.  I have a horror of him coming in to check on me sometime and finding me dead.
Such dreadful thoughts!
Later!