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!

August 3, 2013 AM

It's been a long time since I've posted, and many people have been onto me to get me to post again.  They want to keep up with my very interesting life.
I left off when I was in the E.R. at St. Mary's (now Tennova) .
I arrived there with all these tubes and wires fastened to me, and my shirt hanging open.  There was not even a cubicle to roll my gurney into, so they just pushed me over against a wall.  It was a Friday night in the E.R. in a major hospital, and all the rapes, molestations, domestic disputes, shootings, stabbings, and drunk drivers from all over Knoxville were having some sort of perverted family reunion there, and most of them did not speak a word of English.  It was mayhem on a large scale.
I told my doctor (when he finally got there) that I had never shown my chest to that many men without dinner and a movie.
He commented that I still had my sense of humor.
I went from E.R. to CCU, to spend the night.  It was almost as disorderly there as the E.R. had been.  There were 5 nurses and 6 beds, and they couldn't keep up.  I just lay as still as I could, hoping that I would make it through the night.
I went to the heart cath unit the next morning about 5:00, and they put in three stints.  There was another blockage, but they were afraid to go for it, because it was so close to my heart that they thought that they might tear my heart tissue.
I awoke back in CCU, where I was supposed to be for the next three days.  It was NOT pleasant.  Joy Bell Cox  came to see me on Sunday afternoon.  She is always so pleasant, and I was very glad to see her.  She told me that Judy had told her she must come to see me.  She just stayed for a few minutes, as a rude nurse made her unwelcome.
I was there for the recommended three days, then they took me up to the COU unit, and put me in the room next to Muriel Daniel.  I got to go see her several times before I came home on Wednesday.  All the Daniels came to see me while they were visiting Muriel.  I came home on Wednesday, and she came home on Sunday to die.  She died during the night Sunday night, but she got to see her family all together for the last time. 
Barbara wrote an article about her in the Grainger Today.  She was a woman of much influence.
It was hard to get back to working at Sunnyside.  Joy always wanted to go places and do things.  The work there and at Creekside came to a grinding halt.
All we did was mow and do weed-eating at Creekside, and very little got done at Sunnyside.
Creekside has fallen into neglect, and it pains me so.

More later.

Monday, April 29, 2013 Afternoon

We've all been really busy.  I've been sick a few days and had to stay in bed, so the work piled up like stove wood.
The mobile home that Joy is living in is almost finished, so that will be some work that is finished.  I'm so longing to get back to Creekside and get more done there.  Working in a mobile home can be so cramped and crowded.
All the lawns are getting a ragged look, as the weather is such that it rains almost every day, and the grass is growing like bad weeds.  It all looks snakey.  I can't dry clothes on the line, and I so hate the thought of running the dryer.
I have to go to the cardiologist soon for my first visit after being in the hospital.  He has a pretty good 'bedside manner', and I like him, so I won't mind so much going to him.  I just hate to have to get dressed up and drive into Knoxville.  It takes almost all day for such an excursion.
I'm having trouble with my sleeping.  I'm sleepy all the time, but I can't sleep at night. 
Steve is after me to clean up my sewing room, but I don't know when I will have the time.
He didn't bring so much laundry home this time. 
I've got to get ready and get up to the trailer to work.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013 Early AM

I've been brought out of the silence by a tragic incident, for which the flag is flying at half-staff in front of Clairemont.
We mourn the death of our friend and neighbor, Muriel Daniel, of Rutledge.  She is the very nice lady who had the room next to ours during our recent stay at St. Mary's Hospital in Knoxville recently.  She was a grand diva of a lady, a good mother, and faithful and loving wife to Creed Daniel.  She had been in and out of the hospital for several years, and was in very poor condition most of that time.
We deeply mourn her loss to our community.  I made a huge bouquet this afternoon to take to Smith's Mortuary to present from Barbara and myself.  Barbara has Darla Daniel, a daughter-in-law, to do her hair.
Sister Snider/Schaffer wrote me a sweet e-mail this last week, asking for more details of my health.  It seems selfish to discuss my own problems during the time when others are suffering so much a loss.
I have resumed much of the work we were doing on the mobile home we're preparing to rent to Joy, Janie's sister.  It is going to be a nice little home for her, with ample insulation to keep it snug in the winter and keep the air conditioning bills lower in the summer.  I'm insulating every nook and cranny.
Steve has been re-doing the plumbing, with sometimes dramatic leaks and sprays of water going all over the place.  He's put in a new bath tub, but I'll have to put the plastic around the shower stall of it.
I've been working on the walls in the kitchen while trying to stay out of his way.  I'm putting wainscoat on the walls in the kitchen and dining areas, and it's turning out pretty nicely, if I must say so myself.
Joy and Janie are putting wall paper in the living room, kitchen, dining room, and hall.  It really brightens the place.
The pace is a little hectic, and I'm tired all the time, but it all has to be done.  Today Joy commented that she thought I could build a house.  I told her I already had.  Tonight, I felt like it, but I can't sleep.
There's so much to think about and get done that I'm restless and agitated.
I'm nervous, and I want to eat.

Friday, March 29, 2013

I've not posted in quite a while, and there's lots to tell.
Janie got her nephew, Keith La Tulip, to come from North Carolina to help with the 'heavy lifting' part of the work on the trailer.  He has been a life-saver.
He has changed out all of the windows in the trailer for new, double-insulated windows.  While we had the windows out, we stuffed insulation into the walls as far as we could.
We put some imitation glass block windows in the bathroom and the hallway to give light, but keep privacy, as the trailer is in a mobile home park.  They are both larger than the windows that were there, and are real glass blocks, but are set in panels.  They don't open, but sure are an improvement over the old, leaky, roll-out windows that were there.  The former owner had, at some time in the past, put plastic over the screen frames to try to cut down the drafts, but it was quite weathered, and actually crumbled into little bits of white dust when we started to remove it.
We put lovely white, roll-out windows in the kitchen, above where the new sink is.  The old sink had been very near the front door, and Joy, Janie's sister, wanted it in the end of the eating area.  I had found a really cute corner sink to install there, and it will be nice that Joy will have a bigger, better kitchen, with those nice windows above the sink.  The former kitchen is to be her dining room, and we got her a larger window for that area that has internal breakfront grids.  She went wild for it when she first saw it.  Janie and I found a beautiful crystal light fixture for above the window.  It sparkled like new money when I was there today.
Joy doesn't like panelling, so I had let her come and pick out whatever wallpaper she liked that I had.  She made some nice choices, and it will lighten and brighten her home even more.  She has a nice beige paper for the kitchen, with little teapots.
There were three bedrooms, but we took out the wall between two of them, and made her a long (but narrow) bedroom, so there's only two now.  There's new windows there, too.  They're sliders, but you can't tell unless you're operating them.  We put a washer/dryer area in a closet in the end of that room, with plans for only folding doors.  It kept down the costs, and works just fine.  When this old trailer was built, there were only spaces for washers, and they were in the bathroom.
We're going to use that space for some drawer cabinets in the bottom, with open storage above, unless I can find some type of door that suits her, and she wants closed storage.
We put a new ceiling in the kitchen, which is better-looking and will keep down the costs of heating and cooling.  We're super-insulating everything.  I have even insulated the back walls of her cabinets and closets, as well as the ceilings and floors.  I used foam floor puzzles.  They're cheap at rummage sales, and are quite dense, providing maximum R-value with minimum loss of cabinet space.
The bathroom was the best room in the home, so we're leaving it pretty much as it is for now, but I have plans to re-line the shower, as it is coming apart from previous leaking.
Last Friday evening, which was Steve's birthday, I was in the master bedroom, laying on the floor, half into the closet, reaching past the water heater and into the space under the bathtub to seal a hole in the floor so I could insulate there, and I had a massive heart attack.
I knew immediately what was happening, but didn't want to excite the workers too much.
I got up, walked into the living room, sat down on a folding lawn chair, and was there, gasping for every breath, when Janie came in to talk with me about something.  She asked if I was alright, and I said, "Yeah, I think so, or I will be."
I sat there for a few minutes, and Janie asked if I wanted her to take me to the hospital.  I said no, that I might soon feel better.  I knew I wouldn't, but she and Joy are easily excited, and I wanted to lead them gently into what was happening.
I asked her for water, and she brought me a bottle of water.  Then I asked her to get a foam rubber mat from the master bedroom, and I laid down on it.  By this time, she was catching on to the fact that I was quite unwell.  She sat down and cradelled my head.  I then told her that I was having a heart attack, and to call 911, but, under NO circumstances was I to be taken ANYWHERE until Steve was there.  He was working on-line at Creekside, as it has a faster internet connection.
As luck would have it, all the Grainger County Ambulances were 'somewhere else', but they told Janie to stay on the line.
She and Joy then started trying to figure out how to get hold of Steve, as only my cell phone had his number programed in, and Janie was on it.  I told them to call the Creekside house phone.
Finally, Janie got tired of hanging on the phone with the operator, and hung up.  She then called Steve on my phone.  He was there in just a few minutes.
Not so for the ambulance.
They took almost 25 minutes to get there.  I was badly needing oxygen, and Janie was screaming at them to bring me oxygen, and Joy was screaming at them to hurry hurry hurry.
They finally got me into the ambulance, and asked me which hospital I preferred.
I told them to take me to Jefferson Memorial, as it was the closest.  We got started off, with Steve following behind.
After we got through the most winding part of Hwy. 92, the man who was tending me in the rear of the ambulance leaned around the partition and yelled, "Step it up!  Step it up!"
Later, Steve told me that they were going 70MPH.  There's almost no conditions (ever!) that merit going 70 on Hwy 92, as it is basically a glorified goat path with pavement.  I guess this time was an exception.
We got there, and they wheeled me right into a cubicle, where they continued treating me.  They were giving me so much IV medication that they were about to create another emergency.  They had me constantly chewing baby asperin, and were alternately putting nitroglycerin under my tongue.  It stung badly.
But the only cardiologist that serves Jefferson Memorial was out of town for two weeks.
They asked me for the name of another hospital I desired, and I told them Fort Sanders in Knoxville.
They called ahead to them, and they said that they wouldn't take me, as Jefferson Memorial should be able to handle my needs.
This was becomming a comedy of errors.
I finally relented to St. Mary's in Knoxville, but I don't like them.
It's a inner-city hospital, and it was Friday night.
Even I couldn't imagine just how bad it would be.
I hate a cliff-hanger, but I'm tired, my fingers hurt, and I will just have to have you all look for the details of my hospital stay in my next post, which I will fervently try to get done tomorrow.  I'm supposed to be on bed rest, so time at home (for a change) is not so rare.

Tuesday, February 27, 2013

It's been quite a while sinse I've up-dated.
Della, one of my sweet chemo nurses, wrote me an e-mail telling me that she's enjoying reading my blog, so I think that's a hint that I need to get it going again.
The terrible neuropathy in my hands makes it painful to type, so I've not been keeping this thing going much lately.
Sad news first:  Juanita Price, the lovely lady who was the nurse who delivered me when I was born, died last week.  She had taught me in YMWB when I was around 10-12, been a good friend to my parents, given me many tips on my music, and taught me again at UT Hospital as a nuring instructor.  She was on the surgical team that performed the first open-heart surgery in Knoxville.  She was a very devout Christian lady of the highest order, and I loved her deeply.  She had played the piano and organ for Hinton Street Mission for many years, and I was guilty of staring at her during the musical services because I thought her to be the most beautiful, tallented, lovely woman to ever grace the earth.  She will be sadly missed.  When I called Mary (my oldest living sister) to tell her about the obituary, as soon as she heard my voice, she said, "I saw it."  She knew how much Juanita meant to everyone.
Betty Pike has been keeping me updated about her mother, Ruth, and her medical conditions.  She's failing badly, and Betty is almost overwhelmed with her care.  For someone as competent as Betty to be overwhelmed is baffleing to me. She is so capable and competent in everything she has ever undertaken that I can't imagine her not being able to handle any situation.
But, Ruth has lost her hearing, and has many other medical problems (mostly related to being 92 years old), and Betty is in her 70's, I believe, so I guess it's time for them both to slow down.
Our good neighbor, Muriel Daniel, is very low, and they feel that she could go at any time.  She has been a behind-the-scenes leader and charity co-ordinator in Rutledge for many years.  While Creed, her husband, has been rather flamboyant and public, Muriel has preferred to quitely go about making things better for everyone she can.  I've known her sinse my teen years, but I didn't know of her roles of helping so many until I lived across Rutledge Pike from her for several years.  No one will probably know of all the good she has done, but she will be sadly missed when she goes.  Her daughter-in-law, Darly Daniel, does Steve's hair, and he says that she's the best he's ever had.  I guess he's not counting Dorothy Reynolds, who did both our heads for many years until her retirement a few years ago.
Speaking of Darla....Barbara and I often drop off articles at her salon that we want each other to have.  Well, Barbara had bought a rather droopy, pretty ordinary fuschia hat at the Dollar Store, and wanted me to decorate it for her.  She left it at the beauty salon where Darla works, and I picked it up and decorated it for her to match a suit she had bought.  When I took it to her at her home, both she and Elizabeth (her mother) went wild for it.  It did look rather nice, I must admit.  I coated it with one of my secret coatings to make it stiff, and put some irridescent fuschia roses on it, and decorater it so that she could make either end the front or back, according to the occasion.  She loved it, and showed it to the doctor and home nurse when they came, and they loved it, also.
Elizabeth is getting more and more feeble, but she's 98 years old.  Her mind is still very quick, though, and she always enjoys my visits.  When Barbara and I talk on the phone, she'll say, "Oh, is she coming?"  It's good to feel that I can lighten the day of someone I so love and admire.  She taught school until she was 92, and has some wonderful stories to tell.  She prays for me every night, as she does for many others.  Barbara tells me that she has a rather long devotional time every night, and prays for more and more people every night.  Barbara has to wait longer and longer to go into Elizabeth's room to tell her good night.  I'd say that Eliazbeth's time in prayer is time well-spent.
My dear old friend, Faune Gerber, from the Nashville area, has a sick grandbaby in Florida, and is frantic over it.  She sent many requests over the internet asking for prayers.
It must be awful for her to be so far away when there's sickness.
Janie has been in Gatlingberg this week, and I have had so much residual pain from my chemo that we haven't worked much at Creekside.  It's supposed to snow tonight, so Steve and I will likely work there some this evening, to keep a fire going in the wood stove, to prevent pipes freezing.
I've worked some at home, but haven't felt like doing much.
Janie's daughter, Tina, and Shawn, Cherokee's son, have broken up.  Shawn wanted to go drinking with the boys, and Tina would not allow it, especially on his limited license from a drunk-driving accident in which a man was killed.  Tina has now moved to some place in Morristown, and wants to persue more medical education, which will assure her of good employement.
Our water has been brown, from some underground stream that feeds it.  Steve days that he can't get the 'mud' out of the water.  I wonder about the benefits of batheing anymore.  It darkens our white laundry, and frustrates me to death.
The Womack's dogs have killed two more of our cats.  I'm so mad at those careless and irresponsible people who won't contain their animals.
Steve saw the back porch torn up one morning, and I suggested that he might find the cause if he looked on our video surveilance system, so we looked.  Two black dogs had come onto the porch, and they attacked the wood boxes where the cats sleep (they're heated).  It was a viscous attack that lasted for some time, and I had a horror that the dogs would pull their heads out with a cat in their mouths.  I truely don't know how the cats in those boxes held off the dogs, but it was not recorded that the dogs got those cats, though two were missing.  It was some cats that Tina had given us, and they were not aware of just how determined our neighor's dogs could be.
One night recently, I saw a possum on the back porch, stealing cat food.  I grabbed my cane and a handy umbrella and went after it.  I pinned it under my old tanning bed, and started beating it.  I would stab it with the unbrella, then hit it over the head with my cane.  It was a huge uproar, and Steve came back into the house, leaving it to me to mount the defense.  This has happened before.  I won't shoot a gun towards the house, because a bullit might go through a soft part and make a hole in the side of the house.  That's happened before, too.  It sometimes gets a little exciting around here after dark.
Jaime Combs will probably read this and laugh, as will her very close friend, Barbara Womack.
Joy La Tulip, Janie's sister, is planning to move to Tennessee, and she's planning to rent our mobile home.  Janie and I want to do it all up nicely for Joy.  She's disabled from many medical problems, and doesn't have much money to allow for rent, and she can't seem to get an apartment here in Rutledge that she can afford, so the trailer works out nicely for her.  She's a good housekeeper, and will take care of the place, so she will be of great benefit to me.  She has a wonderful personality, just like Janie, and we always have good times when she's here.
It's time for Steve to go to see Darla, so I'm off here.  More later.

Friday January 25, 2013

People have been telling me  I need to post again, so I will.
Faune Gerber says that she can't comment on my posts now.  I was getting some terrible comments from some vulgar commoner who shall remain anoymus, and Steve set up my blog to be for only those who I give a special sign-in route to.
I don't mind people commenting, but some opinions just don't need to be aired on a blog that reaches many people.  Lynn knows who I'm talking about.
There was a yelling match between Colton Smith and Janie at Creekside, and he wound up stomping out and quitting.  That meant that he was also not going to rent the trailer from me.  He and his woman plan to go back to South Carolina or North Carolina one, which is where they formerly lived.  There's a drug culture there that is all-invasive, and his mother and I are afraid that he will lapse back into usage, which had landed him in prison before.  He had a felony conviction when he was 19, and now he's 23, with no credit, no job, no car, no home, a bad attitude towards society, a 4-year-old child, and is living with either his parents or hers.  His mother, Dena, is an emergency-room nurse, and she told me she had to sign a paper saying that she would not eat the groceries bought with Colton's food stanps.  Just how crazy is this?  It would seem to the folks down at the food stamp office that when someone comes in with tattoos, piercings all over, at least one bastard child, no car, no job, a live-in, thier pants down to their knees, and at least one felony conviction, that they'd not be too consciencious about who eats their food.
I love my country, but I fear our government
Everything has gotten turned upside down.
We got the kitchen floor back down, and I super-insulated the walls.  It makes a world of difference.
Janie and I went to Southeasterm Salvage and bought the moulding and corner pieces to match, and I painted them with pearlizing finish.  They look magnificient.
Joy, Janie's sister, came from North Carolina for a visit, and she loved the finish.  She's interested in renting my trailer, and she picked out wall paper to cover the walls.  She can't stand the dark paneling.  She also picked out some ceiling medallions for her light fixtures, and she asked me if I'd pearlize them for her.  I got up early this morning and put the primer coat on them.  One of them had been painted with some ugly yellow paint (they're both salvaged).  She willl make me a good tennant, though she can't afford much rent.  But I want to help her, and she's lonely living in North Carolina.  She comes often to visit Janie, and we have become like one big, happy, loud family.
I saw Barbara at the Down Home last night, and her hair looked like she'd been rode hard and put up wet.  Darla Daniel is out of town a lot with Muriel, and Barbara just can't get top the beauty salon.  She never does her own hair, and it just doesn't keep.  She was there with the Republican Women's meeting.  They want me to join, but I just don't have the time.
There was freezing rain during the night, and the Daniel p0astures, across tghe highway, are glazed over with the white ice crystals.  It looks like a light snow, but is far more trecherous.
The Family Dollar and the IGA did a brisk business last evening, as soon as the prediction came of freezing rain.
Steve and I are home, safe, warm, and dry.