2013/07/28

Oh my husband!

Q lost his phone today. He came to my work, almost in a panic, to see if it was there. Maybe it had fallen out of his pocket when he brought me water. Maybe he dropped it in the hallway. No, he didnt drop it there.

I checked the other parking lot when I left. No phone. I told Beth, my co-worker in crime busting, that if I got home and found that phone laying around somewhere, that phone just might be inserted into Q's private area when he was asleep. THEN I would call it! 

I got home, got out of the car and immediately called his phone. As I started to walk to the yard, I hear the song, "Marry your daughter." I looked to my left and there sits a mower that is on a trailer. A riding mower. And under the seat, there is a glow. All I an do is laugh at this point. I was going to just retrieve said phone but couldnt really figure out HOW to get to it. I pecked on the front window and told Q he needed to come outside. He wasnt too thrilled with that but he came anyway. As he came out the front door, I told him he has a little problem on his trailer and as he approached the trailer, he was pretty dumb-founded.

I bet it took 5 minutes to get it out of there!! It was down in the compartment where the battery sits and it wasnt easy getting it out of there. Apparently when he was sitting on the mower, it vibrated from the side of the mower panel, into this battery compartment.  And kept vibrating around this area.  As he worked on it, it slipmust have vibrated under the spring that goes down under the seat.  It seemed to not only break the screen...but also took a chunk out of the whole phone itself. I am surprised it would even ring.  There will be no seeing anything on the screen at this point. 

I was crushed. You see, I had left him some good messages on it tonight. One said, "This is your phone. You need you to find me and check this message." Another said, "This is your phone again, you need to answer your phone or I am calling the police." At one point, I left a message saying, "If you dont call me back, I am calling the police!" One of my city officers was in there when I when left that last message and he just stopped and said, "What the hell did you just do???" Hahaha too funny!!!

So today I was on the phone with the phone company for an hour.  Literally.  We almost have my old Blackberry set up with his number and information.  What would he do without me people?  I keep asking him this question and maybe...just MAYBE...it is starting to sink in!!!

Ugh! I sure hope your night was better!  Until next time...thanks for reading.  Always like to throw a short one in once in a while!!!

2013/07/23

A two-sided reunion

The time has come and gone. The annual Weed family reunion. I really love this time of year. My intent was to have something written up, in advance of the date, to read for the family. I had a few ideas roll around in my head but nothing ever became solid. The days and nights dwindled down and although I had SOMETHING on paper...it never became enough. For me.

I had taken Thursday and Friday of last week as vacation days so I could spend some real quality time with the family that got to town early; and also to get my baking done. And finish my speech. Ugh!!!

On Wednesday, Quintin's grandfather's hip shattered while he was doing nothing. Literally nothing. Just laying back in his recliner and it all went to hell in a handbasket. Grandma...without asking for help from anybody...gets him into his hoverround and off to the hospital they go. THEN she calls and lets everyone know what happened.

On Thursday, I had lunch with Aunt Ruth and a whole mess of cousins. I say mess because well....they ARE related to me and we all know I'M a mess, right??? Right??? Which, in turn makes THEM a mess! HAHA! Aunt Ruth fixed her beans and cornbread and it was a great time. Aunt Nete from Arizona was there. Man she looks good! If there's one thing I can say about my Weed aunts and uncles...they sure are a good looking bunch!!

On Friday morning, we left for Des Moines and visited Grandpa. He was going to have a complete hip replacement. At least I THINK that is what he was supposed to have! We got to the wing where he was supposed to be at before surgery...the Powell wing...and they look him up in the computer and tell us that he has already went down for surgery. Great. Where is THAT at???

"Go out to the main hallway, take a right and go all the way to the brick wall. Take a left from there and get on the elevators around the corner. Go to level A and then you will go left from the elevators and an immediate right. Go all the way down to the end of the hallway and you will be in the surgical waiting area."

*breathe*

I'm pretty sure I gave her the stink eye. But we proceeded to take her instructions and follow them to the letter. We go down the hallway and pass through the Main Blank Entrance. And the bathroom. Keep walking. We pass the regular entrance into Methodist. And the bathroom. Keep walking. Quintin wasn't so sure about finding a brick wall but lo, and behold, there it was. Right in front of us...the brick wall. If it were a snake, it would have bitten us; or strangled us.

Took a left and another left and got on some elevators with some other guy that didn't know where he was going. We get off on level A and leave him scratching his head because he can't find the radiology floor. For all I know he's probably still wandering around that place. Dazed and confused. Poor guy.

So we took a left and then a right...only because that was the only way we COULD go at that moment as only SPECIAL people could go in the doors ahead of us...and we walked down this hallway that seemed to never end. "I am pretty sure we are below the hospital now Quintin. I can feel it." He agrees and says he can "smell it." As we pass doorways, we look for windows and nobody has even one. Finally at the end of the hallway, there is a nice waiting room. Nobody is in it and the sign says that is a waiting room for something...that is not surgery. So we follow the hallway out of there, leading to yet another area. And passing another bathroom.

At this point, we have walked forever and I already feel my blood sugar starting to drop. We go sit down in the waiting room and found it pretty funny nobody from our family was there. After all, GRANDMA should be there!!! Nope. I called her only to find out that he isn't even back from dialysis yet and didn't know when he would be coming. I told her we would be around here and if she didn't find us in half an hour, she better call because I think we were in the wrong area altogether.

We tried to entertain ourselves on our phones but that was short-lived. "Let's go get something to eat." The shakes were starting and I didn't want to deal with it. To the cafeteria we go! Back up the never-ending hallway. To the elevators. It was then we realized we came down the "wrong set" of elevators. Apparently they have elevators for patients and elevators for visitors. Let me just tell you that the patients' elevators are bigger than the visitor's. Not fair dudes.

We got some yogurt and mozzerella cheese sticks. I also got this package of pretzels with hummus. Quintin had never had hummus before and I was pretty sure he wasn't going to try it...because he's really good at avoiding new and yummo stuff like that...so I was looking forward to having that to myself. Nope. Not only did he try it but he liked it. And he was good enough to let me have about 3 pretzels from it. He did the same thing to me when I bought 6 crab rangoons from Hy-Vee...he only wanted 2 but ate 4; I got 2...only because I made him stop eating them.

No sooner though, than we had sat down and started eating, my phone rings. It is Grandma and not only has he been back to his room...but he is in pre-op so if we want to see him, we better get back up there. *sigh* Trying to hurry in a hospital is almost impossible. You have people to wait on; elevators to wait on; never-ending hallways to walk. We scarfed the rest of our food down. Inhaled I should say.

We got back to the waiting room to go see Grandpa and I really wasn't prepared for what I saw, when I walked in. There he lay...on the bed with wires coming out of him and he was gray. Pale was all I could get out of my mouth, "You look so pale. He looks so pale." But he wasn't pale. He was gray. He was covered up with what looked like a million blankets and you could see the pain in his tired eyes. We made small talk and told him how much we loved him and he then asked Grandma to move his arm for him.

*insert red flag here*

My mind was going a million miles a minute right now. I kept thinking "That is his heart. This has something to do with his heart." But, what do I know? I mean...he's laying in a hospital bed with computers hooked up to him. Wouldn't they know if he was in distress? Turns out they didn't know! And he DID have a slight heart attack! Oh boy, I can't believe this. They couldn't do the surgery because he had a fever of 103. Come to find out, his hip was full of infection too. AY-YI-YI!!

Oh yeah.....I finally got to use one of those bathrooms I had passed and passed and passed!

It is getting to be early afternoon and we have to head back for a family dinner. We get home and get our clothes changed, a little rest, car loaded up with food...and I head back to Orient to Aunt Ruth's house. I had probably been there an hour when I got a phone call from cousin Lisa, saying that Grandpa is in ICU and he isn't good. Quintin pulls up to the house at the time I am hanging up. Telling my husband this news and then expecting him to drive like a normal human being, is like asking a barber to take an inch off of a bald man. It's impossible. And scary.

Quintin probably beat me back to the house by 10 minutes. On the road again.....I was singing it the whole way back to the hospital. Quintin opened up to me and let his feelings out about his Grandpa. I mean, I knew they were there...he just usually doesn't talk about them. And he sobbed. Nothing breaks my heart like a strong man broken into a million pieces. But I know that is what his heart and his soul would need so he could face his Grandpa.

I don't know why but I feel the need to always park in the garage when we go to Methodist hospital. Each and every time. No matter what side of the hospital we seem to need to go to. Ugh! The long walk back to the brick wall...that was about seventy miles long that night. This time we went to level 2...I think...and walked up a ramp, down another long hallway and into a room that looked like a slumber party gone wrong! People were just looking at us like we were alien. Blankets on couches, pizzas on every table and nobody that I had ever seen before...looking back at me.

We walked out and down another hallway until we finally found someone who looked like maybe she could help us. She took us right back in that same room and we got on an elevator. We literally went up one floor. Seriously we could have taken the steps if we had known we were in the right area. Found the family and got updated.

We could only go in three at a time so we took turns. We were at the point where we were afraid this was goodbye. I...we...did a lot of praying. A lot of it. And while Quintin felt bad that we were missing my family reunion dinner...we were really enjoying ourselves with his side of the family. So we really weren't missing out at all. I just prepared food for one side while I got to talk, cry, laugh and tell stories with another side. Bittersweet to say the least. All the way around.

On Saturday, we went to my reunion at the Orient park and enjoyed ourselves while we were there. Spent about two and a half hours before heading back to the hospital. Grandpa seemed to be doing better at this time. Not great but better. We knew for sure he would never be able to have the hip replacement surgery. His heart just won't take it. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

On the way home Saturday evening, we stopped in Dexter to have some more family time with Ryan, Lisa, their kids and Andy. It's always a good time with them. Just too bad we don't get to do it more often. Got home and, of course, couldn't sleep. It's times like these you hope you said all the right things in case it was the last time you get to see someone or talk to them. I don't know about Quintin's but my mind was racing with things like, "Does he know how much I love him? Did I tell him right when I left so it's the last thing he heard?" I hate it when I do that to myself.

Don't know what time we got to sleep but I do know that I missed the Weed family breakfast. I could kick myself for that. When we did get up, it was to go right back to the hospital to see Grandpa before heading to the bowling alley for little Tori's 4th birthday party. That was fun. I don't particularly care to bowl too much but it was fun watching everyone. And playing with all the babies that were there. That's always fun!

We got back in time to visit the last of the cousins in Orient that evening and came back and brought Miss Bella home with us for the night. Being around all those babies sure made me miss her a lot. She helped me do my grocery shopping on Monday and she made sure to say "HI" to everyone she came into eye contact with. A very very loud HI!

It has been a crazy 5 days and I am ready to be back at work. Back to "normal," whatever that is. We have to go back to the hospital in the morning to take some things to Grandma and have a little visit. Today they went in and flushed the infection out of his hip and took his pins out from the previous surgery a year or so ago. Next up is an angiogram. Don't know when that is going to be but I will be over here in the corner...saying my prayers.

I know this has been a long blog. I apologize. Just letting you know about the life of Shellie and all the crazy antics that make my day go by. Until next time...thanks for reading!

2013/07/16

Product Review

This blog is dedicated to my "friends" at Teespring.  "Create & Sell Custom T-Shirts With Zero Up-Front Costs."  It's a pretty neat thing...and easy as pie to do...when it works out for ya. 

I first learned of this business when I ordered a shirt for a dispatcher's fundraiser.  She had been injured in an automobile accident or something.  Can't really remember and I didn't know the person.  Couldn't even tell you where the dispatcher was from.  All I can tell you is that I liked the shirt because it was purple and had a very cool dispatcher's poem on the back. 

So I thought how convenient this thing was and kinda fun.  So when Jackie got sick, I went to the "shirt place."  The steps are all explained to you.  Like I said easy-peasy.  Until.....

When I didn't get my dispatcher shirt on the date they said I would get it, I was a little displeased.  I waited though.  When I hadn't received it 3 days later, I was very unhappy.  So I emailed them and told them.  They immediately credited my account for the shipping charges and 2 days later, I got my shirt.

I honestly didn't think it would happen again.  I guess I am too trusting of people.  I started the campaign for Jackie's shirts as cheap as they would let me go because we didn't need a profit and we didn't want anyone to have to pay more than necessary for it.  Our goal was to have 75 shirts sold within like 10-12 days or something like that. 

That goal was met in 3 days.  I couldn't believe it.  By end of campaign, we had sold 148 shirts.  148!!!  Unbelievable, and I cried several times looking at that number.  I was so proud for Jackie.  So happy that so many cared so much and wanted to be on her "team," no matter what the outcome ended up being!

So here it is, July 16th.  We were all "supposed" to get the shirts by July 9th at the latest.  Nobody has recieved theirs.  Nobody.  I spoke with Nikki from their support team and she told me they are being shipped today as they ran out of the lime green shirts and were just waiting on that so they could get them printed. 

Yet, last week when I inquired, I was told that it was "due to the holiday."  She must have remembered me and my comment of "I knew last year when the 4th of July was going to be this year and I know when it will be next year.  As I do every year. I think your distributors should be able to figure it out as well."

So.....here's the million dollar question of the day.  I was going to do some Weed Family Reunion shirts early next year for our reunion in July, since Kathy and I want to host it.  Would you do it?  I thought if we picked an ending date a couple of months early, that should ensure we all get them on time, right?  Right???  Please comment and let me know!  AND, if you think we should...suggest an idea for the shirt design.  NO, I AM NOT GOING TO PUT AN ILLEGAL DRUG ON OUR SHIRTS.  Just putting that out there before it is suggested. 

How'd you like that?  Short and sweet, huh?  I bet you thought I couldn't do it!  Until next time...thanks for reading!!

2013/07/15

I found a few cobwebs

I was looking at the notes I keep in my phone and came across some funny stuff. 

Like this one: 

I'm watching an old "Keeping up with the Kardashians," (yes I'm one of THOSE people) and Kim and Kris go to the doctor for Kim's ultrasound and also to find out the sex of the baby.  When they walk in, Kourtney and Khloe are already there, sitting in the waiting room.  Kim asks them what they were doing there and why and Kris says, "If one of you girls is pregnant, we are all pregnant."

This is how I feel with my sisters.  Well, not the pregnant thing.  Yuck.  But the closeness...the "feeling" part of it.  Life in general.  I truly love the fact that when I need my sisters the most, they are here.  They give me everything.  They don't hold back.  Even if it's something I don't want to hear or face. 

When Cindy lost Ashley, I know it deeply affected both Kathy and I.  We both felt like a part of our soul was shattered and the pieces were too sharp too pick back up.  But we did.  Eventually.  All of us did.  And most recently, when we were told that Jackie had Lymphoma cancer, it was almost as if the world just stopped spinning on it's axis.  Like everything that was right with the world had suddenly turned wrong.  The night before her surgery...June 26th, 2013...I had something I had never had.  Me and my sisters together.  Laughing.  Having fun.  Enjoying each other's company and just plain "being."

That is one of my favorite pasttimes so far this summer.  Being.  I don't do it near enough.  But that is changing. 

Anyway...after that episode, another came on where Kris and Khloe went out for a night on the town and got drunk and went to Kim's house and TP'd it.  I mean they did a bang up job!!  I was even impressed that they knew HOW to do anything like that.  But they did it.  And left.  Of course Khloe wrote her mom's name (in shaving cream) on the wall.  That is the only reason she didn't call the cops.  But she made a big hissy fit the next day about how they vandalized her home.  Please sister, you didn't even have to clean it up.  Your friend...you know the one I'm talking about...that caused your divorce in the first place...he's the one that cleaned it up.  Well...he and the camera crew. 

ENOUGH ABOUT THE GIRLS!!!

I saw this picture on Facebook. 


 
I realize that we, as a society, are supposed to teach our children
that it isn't right to hit a girl. 
 
 
I have to say that I STRONGLY disagree with this picture.  Guys...what if you were being assaulted by a woman that you knew was packing a gun?  What if you didn't have a weapon; just your two hands?  What are you thinking?  Because I would be thinking, "$h!t's about to get real and this chic is going down.  Whatever it takes."  Now...you may say sure it's okay for a woman to take her out but in what world are we not responsible for our own actions?  If some female is beating the crap out of ANYONE, I believe...I know...that female has to own up to throwing the first punch, or whatever it may be. 
 
All my life I have heard about equality and how women want to be equal to men.  But if you give 'em a right hook, they want your ass in the slinger.  Please.  Get over yourselves ladies.  If you can't have the same respect for another human being by keeping your hands to yourselves...well then you need the $h!t knocked out of you. 
 
If a woman can raise her hand to someone that is bigger and/or stronger than herself, well then she can suffer the consequences.  End of story.  But then that's just MY opinion.  Don't hang me for it.
 
 
You may recall that I have a list of people that I keep on my phone because at some point, they have driven like a crazy person around me, creeped on me at some point, or just made me so angry I could spit turquoise.  That list grew over the past week.  Amazing how that happens.  I have names and info but wouldn't know a darned soul if they walked up to me and popped me in the nose.  (I will pop back, I hope they are ready)
 
Some of you also know that recently I indulged in a little bit of adult beverage.  Whilst supervising my husband on his own recipe of homemade noodles (that I have no idea how he makes because it's his recipe, not mine) the other night, I partook in some leftover tequila-soaked-watermelon.  I was so tired.  I was so stressed out.  It was so cold and oooooh so refreshing.  I ate it all.  And it was half of one of those round watermelons but tequila had soaked through it for days.  DAYS. 
 
It was amazing.  When that was all finished up, I needed a dacquiry.  Then a margarita.  This was such a rare occasion for me because I rarely drink alcoholic beverages.  I usually have to have a reason to drink and stress is no reason to drink.  I have never drank alcohol to drown my sorrows.  I tried one time but I think drinking alone is a miserable thing to do to yourself.  Anyway...since I drink so rarely, you can imagine how quickly that tequila got me started. 
 
Quintin was so nice as to hand me the pizza cutter and let me go to town on cutting a batch of noodles.  They were the cutest noodles you'd ever see.  At least that's what the notes say, here in my phone.  "My noodles that I cut out took the form of people.  Long, stretchy, deformed people.  Fat heads, fat bellies, large...very large feet.  All comical looking though." 
 
It's funny sometimes, the things I choose to make notes about.  It's even funnier that I want people to know what was going through my head at these times!  Apparently as it neared bedtime, I spent 10 minutes looking for Quintin's medicine so I could remind him to take it.  When he finally asked me what I was doing and I told him, he assured me that he had moved his medicine to his nightstand.  A month ago.  A MONTH AGO he had moved his meds to the bedroom and I couldn't remember that???  Oh Jose!!!
 
He asked me about my meds...maybe a little worried at this point about me taking them...and I assured him "I took my amphibians hours ago."  Antibiotics Shellie.  Antibiotics!
 
I think he was glad to finally get me to bed because the last things I asked him was to turn the internet up and shut the AC off.....right before I told him to bring my Ipod charger to bed with him and leave the Ipod on the desk.  I don't remember much after that. 
 
Are we going backwards because the car feels funny.  I'm out.  Hope you enjoyed the show!!!  Until next time...thanks for reading!

2013/07/08

Keep your hands to yourself

Well, as most of you know...Shellie hurt her thumb. 

I didn't cut it.  I didn't slam it in a door.  I didn't hit it with a hammer.  I sliced it.  I was in the kitchen, getting things ready for our Saturday night barbecue and the last thing I was going to do that night was slice up some potatoes and get them grill-ready.  I have one of those mandolin slicers from Pampered Chef.  They have a nice safety guard thing that goes on top; you put the product you want sliced, on the mandolin...inside the safety guard thingy-ma-jigger and go happily about your business. 

No, I did not do that.  Q was in the kitchen talking to me...getting ready to take his plate of food to the livingroom, as I made him help me work around the yard and the house.  I was holding the potato in my hand (yes, it happened on the first potato) and slicing away when Q says to me, "You know, that thing comes with a safety guard."  I turned my head...as I continued slicing...to tell him that I am a little bit smarter than that and will be careful...when I felt it; SLICE!  It was fast but it was not painless! 

I immediately grabbed my finger and applied pressure as I ran to the kitchen sink saying, "Oooohhhhh crap!"  It's unbelievable that I didn't swear but I didn't.  Of course I got, "I knew this was going to happen" from the peanut gallery...I mean my loving, concerned husband.  We got it cleaned up and Q got a band-aid put on it.  I think that hurt worse; the taking care of it part.  Now we gotta find that piece of finger because I just HAD to see it!!

It's funny how much your flesh blends in with a potato.  And there was no blood anywhere on the mandolin or the potato!  Or even on the piece of flesh that was left over!  We finally found it after digging through the potato slices.  It was stuck to a potato.  Very cool looking fingerprint I took off there.  Said picture is on Facebook, floating around.  Maybe you could do a search for "pieces of flesh that my friends have sliced off in 2013."  I hear they have refined their searches. 

So.....that was that for the night.  The fork was stuck in me. I was done!  Oh and did I mention that we had not one, but TWO babies staying with us that night???  Luckily they were already asleep for the night.  Getting up and filling bottles in the middle of the night proved to be a little challenge but I suffered through. 

As I did texting on my phone.  Who knew the challenges of a simple text message with the loss of one thumb.  Well, not loss of...but loss of use, temporarily...but who knew your thumbs made such an impact on so much of the stuff that we do???  I have a touchscreen phone so when my bandaged up thumb couldn't press the spacebar or any bottom row letters, it slowed me down B-I-G T-I-M-E!  It seems the electricity or whatever it is, in the body, doesn't go through a band aid.  Hmmm

I figured typing would be a huge issue but seems to be fine.  Obviously I don't use my thumb.  At least not my left.  And that's another issue!!!  This hurt thumb is on my left hand!!!  For the love of french fries, I am left-handed!  Go figure!!!

I tried to use scissors this weekend.  That's a no-go.  It might have had a little bit to do with the awkward thumb cast I had on it.  The pharmacist helped me pick it out.  She also told me I shouldn't be doing dishes for a while.  Love that woman!  Q has been on dish duty for 2 1/2 days now and it's going well.  And I stand right over his shoulder to make sure he keeps on doing such a good job.  I might have to milk this one a little longer...for medicinal reasons of course!

Here's probably the worst thing I can think of that I struggled with.  Wiping after going to the bathroom!  It is nearly impossible for me to effectively clean myself with my right hand.  I know I use WAY too much TP but at least I know I'm clean.  I swear, I feel like I need to be double-jointed to do this one task that shouldn't be as hard as I'm making it!!!  And no, I did not ask my husband to help with this chore.  We did speak of installing a bidet though.  I might have him convinced, who knows!  How do you right-handers do this???

Here's one that I bet you don't realize how much your thumbs are involved in!  Bras!  It was nearly impossible to unhook my bra because it hurt so bad to apply any pressure to it.  What my husband doesn't understand is that there are a lot of nerve endings in the fingers so when that area is open, it hurts.  Bad.  BAD.  B-A-D!!  I have a high tolerance for pain so you know this had to hurt.  I am not a weeny by any means. 

When I took my shower, I had to wrap my big ole awkward thumb in plastic, and tape it closed. It still got a little damp.  Apparently I didn't do it right but I didn't have anyone else around to help me.  I think I need a servant.  One of those stuffy older gents in a tuxedo, carrying around a silver platter with whatever I should need at the moment.  At this particular moment, I needed him to wash my hair because it's just weird to wash your hair with an oversized thumb! 

So after my shower, putting my bra back on was a real chore.  And I thought taking it off was awful!!!  I had it wrapped around me and the hooks in front and I was trying to get it hooked when all of a sudden, one hook dug down inside my band aid and right into that abyss...that hole...that I so carefully sliced out of there.  That hurt like a ..................well, let's just say it hurt.  A lot!  But I prevailed.  I got the bra on and life went on.  *sigh*

Using silverware and writing utensils have proven to be an issue.  It's hard to cut anything with my fork.  It's hard to write.  Ugh!  Do me a favor and if you see me out in public and I'm eating...or trying to eat...don't laugh when I miss my mouth.  I really am not coordinated with my right hand and so I am trying to teach it to be the dominant one for a while.  It's not working out.  My right hand is ready to leave me.  How do you right-handers do this?????

Today my thumb is out of the cast we made for it.  It wasn't getting any air to it and my poor thumb looked like a long wrinkled raisin.  And it felt uncomfortable.  I wish I had it though because I feel better when it is protected.  I am so afraid of hitting it.  Just changing the band aids every day makes my butt pucker up!  

So don't take your thumbs...or any of your digits...for granted.  Those babies come in pretty darn handy when you least expect them to!!!

Until next time...keep your hands to yourself...and thanks for reading!    

2013/07/05

Blogging in my sleep

When I woke up this morning, I was almost positive I had written a blog in my sleep. At least that's all I thought about during the night. Since I apparently didn't print what I wanted to say, I will do it now.

As most all of you know, my niece Jackie didn't have Lymphoma. I can't thank God enough for this. She was spared that part of it. I guess what she has is hystoplasma. Hystoplasmosis is basically, a yeast infection of the spleen. Here's what Wikipedia has to say about that.

Histoplasmosis (also known as "Cave disease,"[1] "Darling's disease,"[1] "Ohio valley disease,"[1] "Reticuloendotheliosis,"[1] "Spelunker’s Lung" and Caver's disease) is a disease caused by the fungus Histoplasma capsulatum. Symptoms of this infection vary greatly, but the disease primarily affects the lungs.[2] Occasionally, other organs are affected; this is called disseminated histoplasmosis, and it can be fatal if left untreated. (That last part scares me to death)

Histoplasmosis is common among AIDS patients because of their suppressed immunity.[3] In immunocompetent individuals, past infection results in partial protection against ill effects if reinfected.

Histoplasmosis is generally contracted from contact to microscopic fungi borne from decomposing biological fluids, most notably human excretions like urine, vomit, and feces. Cases of histoplasmosis have declined acutely since the Industrial Revolution as quality of life improved dramatically and humans were no longer living in their own squalor. Unfortunately, it is still a major killer in third world countries and can be contracted easily in the first world by living among the aforementioned human fluids.

Now...what I DO KNOW is that Jackie doesn't hang out with bats and she doesn't have AIDS. Another thing I do know is that we breathe in a lot of crap that we don't know we breathe in. And this would be one example of just what scary stuff is out there. This would, I assume, affect her lungs at some point. That scares me too. The cough though...that is a major symptom of this histoplasmosis thing. So I would bet that comes to a stop soon enough as well. Depending on her lungs. Maybe. I don't know. My doctorate didn't cover that.

ANYWAY...........

When we were told that Jackie had Lymphoma, it literally felt like the world came crashing down around us. Well, for Kathy it did. And it did for me as well. What we really weren't expecting was such an outpouring of love and support that we were met with. Some days that was all that held us upright. Immediate talk of fundraisers came at me and that kept my mind busy. Although we couldn't do a fundraiser, generous hearts Kerri Jo and Shelby got right on the wristbands and started taking orders. It was almost overwhelming, the people that wanted a bracelet; the people that wanted to do anything...as long as it was something.

So I decided I wanted a shirt to honor Jackie and what she was going through. And several others wanted a shirt as well. So we did it. We had a campaign to reach 75 people. I honestly had my doubts about reaching the goal so was I surprised when it kept climbing and climbing and in 3 days, we had reached our 75 shirt goal. By the end of campaign, we had gotten 148 shirts ordered! How awesome is that?!?

So Jackie has had surgery and the pathology reports are all back in. Now if you have been following my blogs, you will remember that someone had already made my sister feel awful about this whole thing. Saying things like "aren't you going to feel dumb if they find out Jackie didn't have cancer?" And I am here to tell you.....again....that I don't feel a bit dumb. And if you feel like you wasted money on your shirt, send it to me and I will reimburse you.

Nobody will ever convince me that God didn't have a hand in that. Nobody.

So from my heart...from Jackie's heart...from Kathy's heart...we can't thank you enough for your love and support during this ordeal. Like I said before, it was you that kept us upright some days. Although it was hard to even look at Facebook at first, it helped to know that there were so many willing to listen, willing to talk, willing to do anything; but so many that were already praying for Jackie. Words can't even cover what we have all felt.

My humble thank you is all I can come up with right now.

Since Jackie has been home, she has had some stomach issues, which is to be expected after the major surgery she went through. She's tough though. She has a high pain tolerance and that couldn't be a better thing right now because from what I hear, it's a very painful thing to go through.

Now...let me back up a little bit here. I want to send a message to those that have talked behind my sister's back. What I don't think you understand is that Jackie could have never went through the biopsy process, therefore taking the spleen was their only option. If you were any part of her life...other than in name only...you would have realized that. And if you had any heart at all, you would have spoken to Kathy about it, rather than run your mouth. Because, after all, SHE is Jackie's main caregiver. Not anybody else. ALL responsibility falls on Kathy's shoulders here folks. 100% of every decision.

If you have a problem with that, leave me a message and I will give you my phone number. Then we can discuss just how many times you have helped Kathy. How many times you have attended a doctor's visit...for anything. We will discuss all those weekends you had Jackie spend with you...and those she didn't. All the times you have texted her...or not texted her. The times you have called her...or not called...or not even answered her calls.

So if you want to go around saying negative stuff about my sister, take a long hard look at how much you participate in Jackie's life. Let those without sin cast the first stone. I will be waiting.

I thank God every day that Jackie has the loving people around her that she does. It makes up for those that can't...or won't, show it. I would give anything for Jackie. ANYTHING. Because she deserves that kind of love and that kind of respect. It's just too bad that she can't get that unconditional love and respect from those that she gives it to. To those that love Jackie...and I mean truly love her...thank you. It means the world to her; and what is important to Jackie, is important to all of us that love her so much.

I will probably get in trouble for this blog. Won't be the first time, will it? I highly doubt it will be the last too. Thanks for reading my rant. Maybe tonight I will sleep.