THE HOSPITAL

From rain comes rainbows
Another week lost in the shuffle.

Last Monday my brother was admitted to the city hospital through Emergency. They kept him in a special care unit under constant observation; his blood pressure and pulse were sky high, and they feared another stroke. Every now and then an orderly would whisk him away for some test, or another scan. He figures that he has been through each machine in that hospital at least once.

We met the doctors on Thursday, who were satisfied that his vitals were stable enough to operate. They explained the procedure, warning us that his tumor has grown 2 cm. It’s the first time I’ve seen my brother’s tears…just for a minute… since this all started – and I believe it was more anger and frustration than fear. It has been so long since he was supposed to have had this done; of course the tumor had months to grow!

We don’t know why they decided to do a head scan on Thursday afternoon, but it was done. Friday morning, just before he was to go into the operating room, they came to see us again. An aneurysm had shown up on his brain, so anesthesia could no longer be considered. There would be local freezing, the procedure would be unpleasant…but would not last long. Later, when it was over, my brother told me he had never been through anything so scary. They cut a hole in his windpipe, and pushed down a tube to grab the chunk from his lymph node...all this while he was awake and aware...and certain that he was going to choke to death. But it was successful. Because of the long weekend holiday in Canada, the docs put him on an antibiotic drip and told him they would see him on Tuesday…today.

Each day since he has been there, doctors have come in saying they had to verify one thing or another, and would be back to discuss it with him. Because his pain medicine is so strong, he doesn’t take in all they tell him. Sometimes they would pass by just around 8 PM. The problem is, one never knows WHEN, so we spend hours waiting…and waiting. Most nights I was arriving home around 9 PM…sometimes later...but my grandson was still here for Grump, and Line was holding the fort at the office, and there was no scramble to keep him safe from a tornado as happened in Joplin, and for that I am extremely grateful.

Each night I had some work for the business that needed to be done when I got home, of course, but I wasn’t sleeping anyway. Working keeps one from thinking too much – a good thing. I did visit Blogit now and then, and my brother, who hates the beeping machines, got a real laugh from Kabu’s post about Wiley tearing the machine wires from the wall. How often Bird has threatened to do just that! He was quite envious of our friend, Wiley, LOL!

I’m off to the hospital again. I have no confidence that we’ll know anything more today. I can’t count the days we have spent anxiously waiting for results, and then anything we are told is never conclusive. We still don’t know on which foot to dance.

BUT – I do know that one day we WILL dance again, and that thought makes me SMILE. I am sending it out to you, and could use one of yours if you could send it back my way!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE DECISION

Today I will contact my office landlord and give him the three months notice required by law. In retrospect, it is something I should have done before this – like when I discovered that my ex-associate had left me ‘holding the bag’, so to speak. He still hasn’t made good on his promise to pay me what he owes.

I had hoped that the tax season would pull us through. It was very busy, but still not enough, and after taking a good look at where the company is heading, and spending many nights considering my options, I made the decision. Fortunately, with today’s technology allowing nearly instant contact with clients, the accounting work can be done right from home, with a run into the city once a week. The health-care agency part, which requires constant monitoring from a central site, will be discontinued.

I wasn’t sure how Line would react when I informed her on Monday, but she is in complete agreement. We are presently discussing how, or if, we will continue working together.

For the moment, the one bright note is that those many hours spent each day in traffic, not counting the dollars saved in gas, will be over. Just that alone is worth the hassle of the move.

I know one puppy who is going to be extremely happy to have his mistress around most of the time, and that makes me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

TRAFFIC, GUNS, & REASONS

Photo courtesy of Photobucket

I finally decided to accept my son’s invitation to supper. He lives on the other side of the city, and I usually beg off just because of the driving involved. However, both his and his Japanese wife’s income tax statements were still at my office, so I succumbed to his coaxing. Besides, Yoshiko had called me late in the afternoon to tell me she was preparing her tofu dish that I enjoy so much; when she added there would also be shrimp and scallops. I was hooked!

My son arrived home from work around 8 PM. We savored Yo’s delicious cooking while keeping one eye on the Wing’s hockey game and, as always, chatted up a storm. I’m not sure why the subject came up, but I was telling Bow, my son, how one of his uncles, a huge man and a rough ‘n tough guy in his younger days, had been brought up short by a much smaller man. It happened before Bow was born.

It was at a traffic light in Montreal. We were coming back from the hospital where my adolescent brother-in-law lay in a deep coma following a horrible accident. The doctors had warned us that things were not looking good, so the atmosphere in the car was tense, each immersed in his own thoughts. When the driver in front of us didn’t move with the green light, Uncle pounded on the horn. The response was a skinny arm shooting out the driver’s window with the universal ‘bird’ sign.

We huddled there, watching with apprehension as Uncle, swearing vehemently, jumped out and stalked towards the offending vehicle. He roughly pulled open that driver’s door, reached in, and hauled him out by a fistful of shirt, then slammed him up against the car. We were unable to hear the exchange, but suddenly Uncle, both arms in the air, backed away from his victim then, ever so slowly, came and slid behind the wheel. The smaller man stood where he was and stared, his hands hidden by his coat, only getting back into his own vehicle when he saw Uncle sitting down.

“The little F*cker’s got a gun!” Uncle said softly. “He stuck a pistol in my stomach!”

We sat there in shocked silence as the light changed from red to green again…and once more, and the driver in front of us didn’t move. When other cars behind us began to honk without stop, he noisily changed gears and spun away in a show of defiance, muffler roaring and tires squealing. Uncle was seething, muttering obscenities as we finally were able to continue on our way. The rest of us didn’t utter a word.

In those days there were still toll booths on the auto route. When we pulled up to the first one, a huge black limousine rolled up to the booth beside us. Glancing at it, my then-husband (and Bow’s father) broke our silence.

“Careful, Uncle”, he warned. “It won’t be a pistol here – it will be a machine gun!” His quip effectively cleared the air. Even Uncle had to laugh at that one.

It was late when I left my son’s house to go home. Maybe because of the dark…I’m at a loss to explain…but somehow I took a wrong turn and was forced to take an alternate route through the city. When I reached the right exit, it was closed for construction. This, of course, resulted in traffic being jammed. As I inched my way forward, the radio advised that the highway I was planning to use was also shut down for repairs. Exasperated, I took the first street available heading north, wanting to get to the highway I knew WOULD be open.

It was uncanny. The street I was on dead-ended right in front of the hospital where my brother-in-law (RIP) had been so long ago. I was taking the very same way, stopping at the very same light, where Uncle’s confrontation had happened; a road I have never needed to use since that period.

What had just happened? Why did events lead to me ending up there? Did my telling the story incite my long deceased brother-in-law, a boy I cared for deeply, to give me a little nudge of ‘Remember me?’?

There is a reason; I just haven’t discovered what it is yet. In the meantime, I’m recalling the wonderful, warm moments spent with a boy who has rarely entered my thoughts lately, and it makes me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

GTL???

Raphael

We were all celebrating Mother’s Day around my daughter’s table, and the usual good natured ribbing was going on. My daughter’s youngest son, Raphael, who turned 13 last September, was on the receiving end for much of it, and I guess I started it by teasing him that his Facebook profile seemed to have no shortage of girls declaring their admiration.

“He’s our GTL,” his sister said, smiling at him fondly.

“GTL?” I frowned at the new expression. “What is that?’

“Gym, tanning, laundry,” she answered me. “He spends hours in front of the mirror – his hair has to be just right, even after his games.”

My son Bow, who wore his hair long and tied back in a ponytail when he was a teenager, silently studied his nephew’s coiffure. The men in our family tend to lose their hair early. Bow rubbed his hand over his now bald palette, before advising drily, “Yeh, well – don’t get too attached to it!”

I choked on my sip of coffee. Yoshiko leaned over, patting my back to help, but when it started coming out of my nose, I ran from the table. I was in the bathroom, blowing into Kleenex, and attempting to compose myself, and I heard my son deadpan, “Is she okay? Do you think we’ll be getting our inheritance early?” The giggling began all over again….it didn’t stop until I arrived home later in the evening.

It is very rare that we all get together without laughter being a huge part of our gatherings. As in any family, there are tense moments. However those moments are few and far between, and are easily settled by our deep love and caring for each other, doubly reinforced by an ever ready sense of humor. Each of us has been a target for teasing, but we quickly learn to take it in stride; it’s not mean, and not serious, and it teaches us to laugh at ourselves.

I watched Raph, now an adolescent, an age typically plagued with feelings of character confusion and uncertainty. His reaction varied from responding with a huge grin to completely ignoring the jokes sent his way…but now and then he would make a remark to cut the joker down to size. No worries for this lad. His self confidence has been toned by his excelling in any sport he undertakes, his popularity with his peers, and the full support of his family. This kid will grab his mom and hug her in front of his friends, doesn’t think twice about kissing his grandmother then too, and makes no excuses for preferring to spend time with us instead of doing the ‘cool’ hanging-out thing elsewhere.

He is not a ‘jock’. He is an accepted GTL.

He’s my grandson, and I love him dearly. Besides, he has promised me a season ticket if ever he becomes a professional hockey player. Yep – I’m SMILING!!

Sharing with you, folks! Isn’t it a great way to start off a new week?

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

SQUEAKING!

Picture courtesy of judianna2u from Photobucket
It has been over four years since my brother was diagnosed with cancer. We don’t even want to count the number of trips made to the hospital for either treatment or follow-up with one specialist or another. Most appointments were respected, meaning that the time spent in the waiting room never went much over 30 minutes…until he needed the lung specialist.

I do not know if this specialist is unorganized, or just downright greedy. I do know he is full of his own importance. I also know that we have never waited LESS than 90 minutes to see him (often it was longer than that!), even if the appointment was scheduled a month or two ahead. He overbooks on a regular basis, has dithered around ever since we met him, and on four different occasions we were sent to ‘consult’ another of his ‘specialists’ where nothing was accomplished; no physical examination, no tests, and always the same damned questions asked while all the answers are already in my brother’s file.

Yesterday was no exception. We arrived 20 minutes early for the 11:30 AM appointment. An hour and a half later, we were still waiting. Finally the little fart (he’s a very small doctor) took us into an examination room, where we sat for another 30 minutes. When he did strut in and started his usual humming and hawing, paging through the file with his superior airs, it was quite evident that he still had no clue as to what was going on. He was bluffing again.

I lost it.

I won’t relate the ensuing bitchiness that occurred on my part other than to say that the little fart had the grace to look embarrassed when I was done. It got results.

Because of being shunted from doctor to doctor, my brother has had problems lately getting his prescriptions filled. He doesn’t need the extra stress of having to worry whether or not he’ll have enough pills to alleviate pain. By the time we left the room, the little fart had written out all the prescriptions necessary, and early next week Bird will be admitted to the hospital. He will be seen by the cardiologist and, if okay to go, will have the operation on his lung. It’s about time!!!

Sometimes one has to be the squeaky wheel.

Sending you all SMILES and wishing the ladies a HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

OOF!

(Courtesy of fellahz_7 in Photobucket)
Last weekend was full of sun and beautiful, warm weather. Unfortunately, it also being the last days before income tax remittance, I didn’t have time to be outside. A small business owner showed up late at our offices with 3 months of paperwork to be completed so that he could remit his tri-monthly sales taxes. The due date was the same – Monday, May 2nd. GRRRR!

I started in his file on Sunday morning at 8 AM, and worked through until 5 PM. When the numbers started flashing blue and yellow, I took a stroll on the gallery, then popped into the living room to watch some hockey. The couch was much more accommodating than my computer chair….I woke up 2 hours later, checked the hockey scores I had missed, then continued work to complete the file. I finished at 6:30 PM on Monday night, the only break being the drive to the city office. By the time I drove home that night, I had been awake for 25 hours straight. Needless to say I stopped the courtesy car (my truck was in the garage) 3 times on the way home, getting out to walk around to keep myself awake. And I’ll NEVER do that again!

I can remember going 10 days without much sleep during our Carnival years (I was the organizer), and it taking a week to get back on my feet. This was just one day and I’m still in recovery mode. The old mare ain’t what she used to be.

On Wednesday I received a message on Facebook telling me that an old and good friend’s Dad had passed away (Thanks Dee!), and the wake was Wednesday night only. I wasn’t looking forward to attending, although I knew I needed to go. It turned out to be most agreeable – my friend was happy to see me, and I met many others who I haven’t seen for ages, most of them since high school. Pleasant though it be, I was still in a half-zombie state, so didn’t stick around too long. Finally I made it back home, where I watched the end of the hockey game (the Wing’s team taking another beating sigh) before stumbling into bed.

My youngest son’s birthday (May 1st), the surprise outcome of Federal elections, Bin Laden’s assassination…all of this and more went flying over my head with only the briefest and an abstract recognition on my part. It’s that time of the year where only numbers count. Tax season, UGH! It does help fill the coffers…whenever we can collect the dues….but it is then I fervently wish that I had chosen some other way to make a living. Grump-puppy agrees, I’m sure, because he has to forego his walks, and often his cuddling too. Even when the mistress is physically there, her attention span, unless you are a column to be balanced, is definite lacking.

It’s nearly over. We need to work now on the stuff put aside in order to keep up during the period, and then we’ll get back to the same ‘ole, same ‘ole. I’m off to the hospital with my brother this morning, which I HOPE is not another waste of time, then will come home and take the rest of the day to hug my doggie and continue catching up on snooze time. I’m working tomorrow and Sunday, but the end is in sight, so I’m SMILING! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? So I’m sending out an extra huge SMILE to make up for the missing ones.

A tickle with that??

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.