And more health updates
Well, the indignities of old age keep piling up. And I thought that I was making so much progress. Hopefully these bitchy little posts will run their course, and I can look at something besides my own navel. I am so tired of my griping. My bladder is a mess, much like a balloon that as lost all elasticity, so I wear a catheter for the rest of my life. I have been diagnosed with severe COPD and emphysema, so my physical therapy is not going to yield the results I hoped for. I am fighting a holding action now.
The one bright ray of sunshine is that the latest heart stents I had installed ended over five decades of discomfort. Funny how you can carry so much pain and not realize it until it stops. I still have an upcoming pulmonary consult at the end of the month, and a sleep study the month after. At some point all this must stop, but fight has noy been beat out of me yet.
Soon, I’ll be back to remarking on the ever-expanding circles of stupid that has engulfed the nation. It is strange how we laughed at these fools before. I sure am not laughing now. I am thinking there is no cure for it. Even so, come Melech Y’shua. It is time.
Rusty's Armory 
January 20, 2022 at 12:06 pm
Do what you have to…..I need to get down there.
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January 20, 2022 at 5:01 pm
Hang in there… and gripe as much as you want. You’ve earned it.
❤️
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January 20, 2022 at 5:16 pm
Would kegel exercises help? That is one thing I learned in yoga….strengthens pelvic floor muscles. Are you incontinent or is your bladder collapsing? I had a supervisor years ago that had to have her bladder re-attached to her insides. It had collapsed.
I like when you bitch and point out stupidity.
I tried to look up Melech Y’shua. I still don’t quite understand.
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January 20, 2022 at 7:09 pm
Melech Y’shuah is a transliteration of the Hebrew. Melech can mean King or Lord, and can refer to Cherubim, the mightiest of angels. Y’shuah is translated as Jesus, Savior, or one who saves. In Hebrew, context is everything since there isn’t a lot of words in the language compared to English. In this context, it means “Come, Lord Jesus” if you are a Christian.
My understanding is that my poor abused bladder has been stretched too far and has lost all its elasticity. Kegels would actually make it harder to pee for me since the prostrate and other muscles would be even stronger.
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January 21, 2022 at 12:59 pm
❤
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January 22, 2022 at 6:56 pm
Funny, but for someone who likes words as much as I do, I can never find them when I want to say something important. I’ll go with this: I’m sorry you’re undergoing so much misery just now. I hope (and believe) you have the desire and grit to get through it. Getting older and wiser doesn’t magically make life grand, just like getting rich doesn’t eliminate problems, just gives you a different set of them. There is still plenty of life ahead of you, but there is bound to be a learning curve because you’ll have to learn new ways of doing old things.
In one of these posts you mentioned your concern about Snookums, how you feel like you’re abandoning her when she needs you most. I get it. I doubt I’m telling you anything you don’t already know, but communication really is key. Jim and I always knew he’d go first, simply by virtue of our age difference and, periodically, he’d let me know what he did and didn’t want to do or have done when the time came. We had all those conversations again, all together, when he was given that final prognosis. That was the best, most generous, thing he ever did for me. Because when things happened and decisions had to be made, and people looked to me to make them – I could do it with a clear conscience and a peaceful mind, because I KNEW I was doing exactly as he wished.
You also mentioned wanting to chronicle this, I would encourage you to do so. Writing helps to organize the mind, for starters and it’s possible you could help someone else going through the same or similar. Do you remember a fella named Dave, from Colorado, back in the Multiply days? I can’t remember his last name, just his face and his dog Heidi. When I “met” him, he was fighting stage four cancer, and he wrote about it. The good days, the really bad days, all of it, in hopes it might help someone else going through it know what to expect. Helluva guy, I think you might have liked him.
Christ on a cheez-nip, I’ve written a novella, didn’t mean to do that! So – you keep fighting the good fight, and I’ll pop round now and again with some ginger snaps or apple pie or something else to soak up that good coffee.
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