High Hopes

 I had high hopes for this new year. Too high, I suppose, given the shenanigans that make news. But that isn't the only disappointment. Health matters seem to be coming faster that I am willing to deal with.

Of course, I have no choice in the matter. I finally solved the nausea problem after taking my pills in the morning. Just have to put some food in the stomach first. I am not a breakfast person. All I want is black coffee. Now I have to eat a piece of toast or fruit before I swallow my daily allowance of blood pressure maintaining, heart strengthening, cholesterols lowering concoction of prescription drugs and supplements. Eggs make me gag first thing of the day. Oatmeal is my choice when the weather is chilly.

So, all of a sudden, out of the blue, my digestive system decided to reject all food and liquids. After three days of that, sipping Gingerale seemed to be the only thing I could do. I lost 6 lbs.  Any weight loss is a cause for celebration as far as I am concerned, but I do not recommend this method.

Recovered from that malady which came with dizziness that never quite disappeared, I was happily enchanted with my new computer and the construction of my new kitchen island. I drew up my plans complete with measurements and presented it to HeWho is quite certain my use of the chop saw will result in me losing a limb.

Will wonders never cease? He actually understood my rendering and the why of the differing lengths of wood. As encouraging as that seems, he did not make a mad rush to the saw to cut the frame. He did make a special trip to a lumber yard to get supplies. Not enough, as it turned out. I expected as much, but he did start cutting and assembling, then looking at me expectantly, as if I could make those 2X2's grow. This was followed with a query about what I had done with all the screws.

That sat there for 2 days. I awoke Saturday morning and put my feet on the floor and lifted my doxies down for the trip to outside. Before I managed to release Mr. BoJangles from his kennel, my mind noted that my left heel was painful and tingling. I stood up and a pain shot up the back of my foot all the way to my brain! To my credit I did not scream and wake the master. I hobbled to the back door and released the hounds. 

I stood there a moment with all of my weight on my right foot as I pondered my dilemma. I knew it was going to hurt to make my way to a place to seat myself. Despite that, I NEEDED my coffee. I stopped at the coffee maker and made my cup of coffee, then sloshed my way to the sofa. Eased down and lifted the offending foot to inspect it. Nothing. No swelling, no bruising, just pain. And that tingling sensation in my heel. 

I figured that I had slept with it in an awkward position. I do have animals bedded down with me and they will move around in the night. I will sleep in whatever space is left. The dogs have their preferred spots and usually stay put. But, Martha, the giant boy cat will insinuate himself in the spot he wants. Doesn't matter if it happens to be occupied. He will push whatever blocks his way until he has what he wants. Once established he becomes an immoveable object. 

You would think I could push him with one leg or even both legs. You would be wrong.  Martha is a big boy and he is a stubborn one, too. Even if I get up and out of the bed to pick him up, he will dig his claws into the covers and hold on for dear life. This is why I thought my foot problem was his fault.

Thinking it would go away as the day went on, I finished my coffee and tried to stand up to let the dogs in. I didn't scream, but I did make some noise. No, it did not bring HeWho was sleeping to my aid. He didn't hear me, but Toni Louise did and she rushed from her slumber to see what was the matter. She stood at the gate separating us and with her paws atop it twisted her head this way and that way, making gutteral sounds in her throat. I swear I think she can talk. She ran to he bed to try to rouse her master as the boy dogs were carrying on at the back door. I finally had to call HeWho can't hear me on his cell to ask for help.

That was Saturday, still not able to walk comfortably today. I googled my symptoms and am confidant in my diagnosis. Tendonitis. I mashed and probed thoroughly. I know that I would have to have an X-ray to confirm this. Do I want to go to a hospital for this? No, I do not. I am certain there is no broken bone to deal with, having broken a bone in this same foot four other times. Even if it was broken, the treatment would be the same. I have all that I need right here, even crutches. Pain relievers might be forthcoming, but maybe not. 

Besides, it only hurts when I stand on it. First thing in the morning is the absolute worst. Then as the day progresses, I am able to navigate more easily. The last time I broke this foot, I employed my son's skate board to move around. You can sit on it and scoot around, you can even place a bowl of soup on it and crawl behind it to push your lunch to a desired location. Alas, no skate board to grab here.

Yesterday, I showered. The problem with showering is that step over the side of the tub. Has me wondering why we didn't install grab bars when we redid the bathroom. After trial and error, I finally managed to get myself in the tub without falling. Still dizzy, I was worried about my balance. If I fell, even 6 lbs. lighter, the man with only 2/3 of a heart would not be able to get me out of the tub. I wonder if he would even try to cover me up before he called for help. I was very very careful and enjoyed my shower. Afterwards I was exhausted. 

Then a niggling in the back of my mind started to come to life. Vicodin! Yes, I had some Vicodin left from my root canal! I hobbled to the kitchen and found it where I had left it. Three tablets looked up at me when I opened the bottle. That is six doses for me, as I will break them in half! I swallowed 1/2 a tablet and waited for blessed relief. In about 20 minutes, I was up and walking. I needed to fill our pill takers and decided to take the opportunity to get that done.

All my cabinets are high, I am low to the ground and rely on a step ladder. Usually not a problem, but anything requiring me to put all my weight on the sick foot was not going to happen. HeWho was tinkering with the island to be (he bought more wood and screws) and had to be put into action to get the bin of pills down to my level. I was happily counting pills and filling each compartment for the next two weeks. Sudden nausea and dizziness hit me and I felt like I would die if I didn't sit down. I turned wrong and my back seized! 

Ended up in bed. With the dachshunds to comfort me. I lay perfectly still to relax my muscles. Fortunately, I had already put a casserole in the oven for dinner. I dozed a little until the dogs became restless and I smelled food. I got myself up and hobbled out to see that HeWho was eating. He fixed a plate for me and we ate dinner. I had been worried that he might try to finish my pill counting, but he didn't. He didn't finish the island construction either, very little progress was made. In honor of me resting he didn't want to make noise.

Today, Well, today is better than yesterday. I have managed to stay off the foot a much as possible. I have applied arthritis type creams to it and it is wrapped in an ace bandage. I did get two loads of laundry done and put away. Dinner is cooking and the island remains undone. He cut two boards short. Only 1/2 ", but still won't work. The temperature is great for being outside and he is out removing limbs and trees that came down in the last storm. 

Blessed silence surrounds me. I am thinking I will go cut the boards the correct length and screw them together so that the frame can be finished. All that will be left to do is assemble it and put the bead board on that was already here from another project. Just need the nail gun to be brought inside. Paint is already here, too. Maybe I will be done when he is done with his chainsaw activities!