Dab nab it!

I am going to have to see my dr. about the shoulder pain. It started last Friday. It seems to appear every other day. I thought perhaps it was caused from raking leaves. I last raked on Sunday. When it hurts I am completely incapacitated.

My poor little finger is not even an issue. The finger hurts not a bit. A little stinging here and there but nothing compared to this effin' shoulder pain. I do keep shutting the bandaged finger in my door. When I take the dogs outside, whoops - the finger gets closed in the door. It is because I am holding it out and away from my hand and I can't feel the door with this big bandage on  until the poor finger gets stuck. It is kind of funny and I always tell it I am sorry.

But cripes! I do not want to go through the ten office visits to get this shoulder diagnosed. I had to go through 3 doctors just for my finger. My GP sent me to an orth. He thus sent me to a plastic surgeon. I can only imagine how many appointments I am going to have to go to and take off from work, etc...

Today looks like a pain-free day. As I said  it seems to appear every two or three days. You know as soon as I make a dr. appt. it will disappear for a month or so. That may be worth it.

I am ticked off about not being able to fix my goodies for Thanksgiving dinner. And I have a baby shower on Sunday I am helping to host. I can try to make the food but I am afraid I will aggravate the shoulder. Sigh. I asked my daughter to come over and help. We will see if she remembers. She did come over for an hour last night and watched a movie with me. She has her own issue right now.

Besides, she is the one who had about ten moles cut out of her back a few years back. The stuck needles in her back to numb the area. She had to feel the tugging as they cut them out. That was  a freaking nightmare. Now she has new moles that she has to have looked at. Here she goes again. All the moles are benign so far, but they keep telling her they have to come out. She was only 14 and 15 or so when they did all of that. I can hardly complain about my surgery.

And to top it all off. I have been resting like I am supposed to. Now my lower back hurts like a bitch. It is rather comical, though. When I hobble outside with the dogs and walk around the block. I have my bandaged finger on one hand, I am trying to keep my right arm bent at an angle to keep it from hurting and I am limping and hobbling. My face is puffy from sleeping and I have not washed my hair. I am surprised somebody does not ask me if I have been in a car accident. That is about what it feels like.

I cannot stand to take any vicodin today. That sh!t knocks me out and makes me fall asleep in my tv chair. Thus causing me headaches and lower back pain.

I am gong to Advil it today. I need to go to the grocery store. I need dog food and fixin's for tomorrow's dinner. I cannot sit around another day. I am going nuts.

One shot for my daughter, please

As if scars aren't bad enough, a keloid develops. The break is over. Six months. Back to the surgeries and the scars. And the lovely keloids. I will make an appointment at Akron Children's Hospital for the removal of three moles. Oh, excuse me "Children's Hospital Medical Center of Akron". How can I forget it's proper name when my insurance agent was so adamant that I get it right!?

For over forty years everybody in Ohio has known the establishment as Akron Children's, but when I called my insurance company last year they kept telling me that the hospital does not exist. The web site lists it as Akron Children's, all the nurses, doctors and any other personnel in the state of Ohio calls it by "Akron Children's". Why would I even dream it had another name? When the agent finally figured out that it was listed in her database under "Children's Hospital Medical Center of Akron" she was irate and told me that I need to give her the correct name. Good grief.

So my daughter got a shot of cortisone in the keloid. Why doesn't blogger's dictionary recognize this word? It stung and we hope that the growth subsides just leaving the scar. How did the girls in my daughter's gym class put it? "Did you get shot!?" I guess my daughter's back looks like she was shot with rifle spray. How many now? 12.... 15? Dysplastic nevus (nevi).

When my daughter told the dr. she wanted three new ones removed, the dr. kept saying "If you think she needs them removed." I had three separate doctors say that "Yes" the moles need to come off when we started this madness five years ago. Now they aren't so certain. What? Did the Medical Association publish an article saying that maybe they were removing too many moles unnecessarily? Like hysterectomies in the 80's? Now the doctor is leaving it up to me. Oh, excuse me. Up to my daughter. She is 18, now. She can decide for herself. We went from "These moles have to be removed!" a couple of years ago to "Well, if you think it's necessary."

Every mole removed has been tested and come back benign. I have wondered through the years if this was really necessary? What do you do when three different doctors say "Yes." I did not intentionally seek out different opinions. I am not that obsessive.

The first doctor that alerted us was rude and my daughter did not like him at all. She was 12 or 13 and this guy just creeped her out. So we found a female dermatologist. She agreed. The moles needed to come out. After about six removals I asked my family doctor. She agreed they need to come out. After so many we started to go to a plastic surgeon. He didn't really give an opinion - he just removed the ones in the more delicate areas.

When my daughter had a rash in January that doctor just freaked out. Why did she have them removed? Who did that job? We got the impression that the job was ugly and messy. Thanks doc. Made us feel like crap. Seriously. You think that doctors would have better reaction skills. They should teach that in medical school.

Am I rambling? Probably. I am tired and I am starting to get angry. My daughter wants them off. They have her afraid that every little mole is a potential door to cancer and death for her.

Did you know that virtually every prom dress made has no back to it? My daughter (like me) does not care for the hoopla of prom anyway. Good thing. Every now and then I would hear my daughter mention tanning lotion. She would put some on because as we have had it drilled into our heads for five years now, tanning beds and sunning are death.

I always hated the sun anyway. Anyone with migraines will tell you this. Sunshine equals headache. I shunned the sun. I was lily white. At 43 I began going to a tanning bed. Wow! I loved it. Especially on cold, rainy days. That stopped cold when my daughter was forbidden to go. They said it would be certain death. Or, they made her fear it as much.

I know it is for the better. I know this. It doesn't help my daughter when she compares herself to all the girls in school that are bronzed and showing their backs in their beautiful flowing prom dresses.

That is more or less why I let my daughter go wild with her hair. And by wild, I mean blond, black and red. Whooppee. No green, blue, orange, pink or purple. So the red faded a little and looked like magenta. So they said. I got a different definition of magenta. Nope. The school stopped that real quick. I got an idea. Why don't they make the kids stop tanning? Now there would be a worthwhile rule. Save a life! Color your hair, not your skin! I've got to stop. I'm getting belligerent.

Quiet

It's quiet here. Sunday morning peaceful. No paper. We seem to have a new carrier for paper and post. Both come later than they used to. Sigh.

I was a paper carrier in my youth. First thing after school. I delivered about 50 papers around town. Collecting was always dreadful. Took most of the Saturday. I didn't deliver the Sunday paper back then. I'm not sure I even remember why.

I am fixing turkey and the trimmings today. Not a whole turkey. Oh no. Just the breast. It is delicious, it is quicker, it is easier, there is no mess. Everybody is happy.

I've slacked off the reading. I finished "Our Iceberg Is Melting". I have not moved on to any others except for the Web Designing one I have been using at work. I've had a houseful this week-end but they are all sleeping, now. I am treasuring it because I know that one day and it won't be long before I am puttering around this little house all alone. I chose a small house because I knew that it would be just me someday. I'll try not to turn into the cat lady. LOL!

The calendar is filling up for the holidays. A party here, a dinner there, shopping in between. Meet us here and meet them there. Then there are the appointments. We look at starting another round of mole removals soon. We took a break for about a year. My daughter has noticed three that have changed and we see her dermatologist this Wednesday. Never fun.

I wanna go back

A long time ago, I had a daughter that smiled. Before the surgeries, before the boyfriend woes, before the school mess. A long time ago we had small bumps in the road and snags that left us depressed for a day or so.

Now, times have changed. We are sad and very depressed. I am trying to help, but I have a lot on my plate. My daughter feels damaged and very neglected by her boyfriend of 3 years. She had the most invasive surgery one can possibly imagine a teenager having. She had moles removed in her private areas (front and back) and another on her back. Could she get a phone call from the boyfriend? Not even. Nothing. No hug, no phone call, no words of encouragement, no questions to ask how she is feeling. Three years and this is what it has boiled down to. She spent thirty minutes ripping him a new one last night. I let her go. I felt that she needed to get this frustration out of her system.

As for me, I wouldn't waste my breath. I'd say "It's over." Hang up the phone and never speak to him again. But, that's me. She handled it differently. At sixteen she is close to having a relationship longer than I ever did. But this isn't about me.

My daughter is in pain. Physically and emotionally. Mama is mad as a wet hornet. She will let him back in. That is her way. I just hope she gets real tired of the neglect soon and finally dumps his ass.

The green, green grass of home

Ohio, May 2007

From 10 to 30 I usually had my head stuck inside a radio. Well, as close to a radio as I could get. My life revolved around music. When I had my daughter, the music stopped. All of my attention and listening devices were saved for that little baby girl. If there was music playing, I may miss a cry or a giggle. And that just wouldn't do. Now that my daughter is days away from 17 and listening to music of her own, I am easing back into the world of music.

The above photo reminds me of the tune performed by Tom Jones "Green, Green Grass of Home". It was written by Curly Putman who wrote a few other country favorites. I'd change the words to fit my life when I would sing along with the songs. Of course I didn't sing "...run down the road with my sweet Mary..." I think I used a horses' name when I sang it because that was my love when this song was a hit.

My daughter received an iPod when she began her homeschooling. So I get her used mp3 player. I can add iTunes gift cards to her Birthday and Christmas lists. My niece said that I can download iTunes for the mp3 player, also. I am a bit rusty on the newer music technology today. I'll catch up. What irks me a bit is that I cannot find some of my favorite artists music for sale. One artist in particular just does not sell his music this way, I guess. Of course what also irks me is that I purchased a favorite album when it was an LP in 33 rpm. I purchased it when it became a video cassette. I skipped purchasing it on a CD, but now I need to purchase it (or just the songs I like) in an mp3 format. It reminds me of the line that Tommy Lee Jones said in the movie "Men in Black". "I guess I'll have to purchase the White album again." Referring to the tiny disc format for music and the popular Beatles album.

Speaking of Tommy Lee Jones, we watched "No Country for Old Men." A bit bloody and gruesome. I watched it a second time and it wasn't so bad knowing when the spurting blood and gory scenes were coming. I could close my eyes or mute the television. I watched it the second time for the story line and to get parts that I missed. I also watched the bonus features that helped to erase some of the ghastly things that they did. To hear them speak as normal people talking about their characters, sort of minimized the horror for me.

We also watched "August Rush." Somebody had gushed about this movie to me. I was disappointed. It didn't move me at all. I could easily pass on this one.

I lounged around all day yesterday resting from the holiday week-end and getting the rest of that nasty flu out of my system. Today I do not get that luxury. There are things that need to be done and tended to. My daughter has her mole-removal surgery tomorrow in Akron. I better check the roadways. The flooding is pretty bad in areas around me.

Mr. Tibbs

He is a pain, he is a joy

He is extremely lovable. He curls up beside me whenever he gets the chance. He has to be touching me or laying over me or part of me. My daughter asks "Why does he like you so much?" I have this relationship with Casper, but Casper is content to sit next to me. Not on me.

I felt that for Martin Luther King Day I would mention "Mr. Tibbs." The older I get the more I have to come to the terms of folks who have no idea what "Mr. Tibbs" is or where I came up with that name. What do they call you up there?

Even after watching The Lion King, where Pumbaa shouts: "They call me, Mr. Pig!" Here is a little bit of trivia for you. The guy who voiced Pumbaa on The Lion King is the same guy who stripped down to nothing on the Seinfeld episode "The Subway".

I have always liked Sidney Poitier since I first saw him on screen. I have never seen "In the Heat of the Night." I think I must remedy that.

We are headed north to Akron today. Park West Center for Plastic Surgeons. The physician we are meeting with will be the one to remove the next set of moles from my daughter. They are not located on her back. They are in a more sensitive area where she will need more than just a few shots to numb the pain. We are so thrilled about this. Today is just a consultation.

She nor I had to miss work or school for this appointment. I am going to try and schedule it during her spring break so that she doesn't have to miss school. Her school is very strict about absenteeism. It is almost to the point of where she goes even if she is sick. If you miss more than 18 days in the school year it is as if you didn't go at all. No credit. My feathers are ruffled a bit. They started with me and the red in her hair at the beginning of the year and we sidestepped that issue. Now, they are on me about her attendance. Between migraines and the mole removal I am about ready to sink my teeth into some superintendent's jugular vein.

I did speak to the attendance officer about my daughter. At that time she had only missed 5 days. I think we are up to 7, now. She said that she only knew of exceptions when there was a serious car accident. I have called the director of the school twice leaving a message. I told him I was aware of the policy and there have been medical issues. He has never returned my calls, so I imagine he is not all that interested in any excuses. Huh.

Atypical

Before the wild hair change

We went to the family doctor and spoke with her about my daughter getting more moles excised. The doctor looked at them and agreed that they need to come out. She did agree with the dermatologist that perhaps we need to look into seeing a plastic surgeon for the job, now. Our dermatologist does not do anything fancy, she is trying to save lives.

Dysplastic nevus. Atypical. My daughter and I were wondering just how many more moles have to be removed. I read today that usually the patient has 100 or more on their body. Groan. Has hers just started? Nobody knows for sure. Another article stated that a person with dyplastic nevi has a higher risk of getting other kinds of cancer. There are certain chemicals still on the market today that can cause cancer and to stay away from them. No list was given.

Maybe there is no scientific evidence. But with the way we have been mislead before in areas were greed are concerned, it will not surprise me in the least if our products are killing us.

Things are getting messy

Raging rain storm in a small town

As the holidays approach I find myself upset. Not only am I facing a drought in the financial area, it is determined that my daughter is in need of having four more moles removed. In a delicate area of her body. She was upset to say the least.

The financial drought is temporary. I was (am) very good at saving money and had a very nice sum set aside for rainy days or (heaven forbid) a loss of work. That stash has been dented. One thing after another.

Of course insurance is going to pay for the surgeries, but it is the mental burden here. Does she really need them removed? She has had about 8 removed from her back and each one has come back with the results of benign and mild. Not malignant and not melanoma. The dermatologist says "Oh!" when she sees the moles in the private areas. She said they need to come off and the sooner the better. My daughter was in tears when we left the office. (She was laughing by the time we got home - forty-five minutes later).

I can tell she is upset. I am making an appointment with our family physician and asking her opinion as to if we should keep up this body mutilation or do we take the chance of taking a break for a year or so, or do we just chuck this mole removal altogether? My Mom had a mole in her private area (I never saw it of course) but she had no problems. Is it better safe than sorry? My daughter does NOT want to be cut down there.

What is a Mother to do? I understand her frustration because I am frustrated and exasperated that each time we think "This is the last one!" more need to be removed and each time the results of the lab work are "It was a mild and benign one." Don't other people just live with their moles?

But, on the other hand Mother does NOT want her daughter to get melanoma. Or anything else for that matter! I just want to scream! Stop, Stop, Stop! This madness! This has been going on for over 2 years, now. Another one, cut, cut, cut. Snip, snip, snip! More scars.

We try to look at things in a more positive light. We are not dealing with cancer, we are not dealing with the loss of a limb, we are not dealing with burns over half of her body, etc... we do try to be thankful that we don't have anything more serious to deal with. I don't say this in front of her, I keep those thoughts to myself. In her world this is disastrous enough. She did mention that she is thankful it isn't anything worse, but she is devastated by it all. Tired of it all.

And, then there is my nephew. Is he going to have his open-heart surgery? Is it going to be this year? I am going to corner him next week while he is off on vacation. When, when, when? So I can plan. His Mother is back in prison so that leaves me to be the Maternal one. I don't care to go into detail about her, believe me it does not deserve the blog space. She is a lost cause, we sort of wrote her off years ago. She can't handle pressure so she kind of drops out of society and this is her way of doing it. As close as I can guess.

Now, what will I take for Thanksgiving dinner? Where will the money come from for Christmas shopping? Back to the little things. The daily grind. Things are indeed messy. Gray sky and stormy weather. We'll ride out the storm. We have been here before.

Just to clarify, I do not qualify for Share-A-Christmas or anything like that. I have plenty of money to pay the bills and buy groceries and get Christmas gifts. I don't mean to sound pathetic. I am just saying the savings account ain't what it used to be. Financial woes are a big stress factor and that is one of two or three I am facing this holiday season. I like to have the money before I spend it, you know what I mean? I am able to pay my charge cards off each and every month, that is how careful I am. I know that some folks are in debt up to their eyeballs, and I am thankful that I am not. I'm just not used to having such a thin safety net.

New chains

A closeup of the swing set

The above photo was taken at one of the little schools near me during the summer. I was out there installing a new router and the tech had forgotten the keys to the building, so I meandered around snapping pictures until he returned.

All is well in the Peruby household again. My daughter and I had a spat and last night we smoothed things over so Mama Bear could take care of the stitches and put a new bandage on the incision. More of same today. She took a pillow with her to sit in the hard school chairs because this one was low on the back. It had changed drastically. Dysplastic nevus.

I met a sister for lunch today. Afterward we went walking back to her workplace and I felt a raindrop. Well, I thought it was a raindrop. I said "It's starting to rain" and I looked up. There was an ornery pigeon on the building roof looking down at me. I said "You little sh**!" I looked all over and my sister looked me over but we saw no "raindrops". She was laughing pretty hard. I have not checked inside my purse yet, as it was hanging open as I walked along. Nice.

Leftovers

This sits in my bedroom.

Well, I used to have my niece living here and my daughter is 16. I can't just leave this stuff out in the kitchen. I must keep it hidden, I guess. I can also safely say I am not an alcoholic. There but for the grace of God... and all that stuff.

Actually, I am seething with frustration. Years ago, booze is where I would turn. Now, I blog. I guess. Well, even before blogging, I stopped the boozing.

Even so, I want to kick, scream, bite, claw and tear somebody apart. I am not sure who. I would love to have access to a really, really bad person. Somebody who writes a virus, maybe.

My daughter had another mole cut out of her back this evening. I was a softie and bought her a new A&F hoodie, new tee and CD to the tune of $100. Anything to make my little girl feel better after an ordeal like that. Then, we got in a fight on the way home. We had been doing so well, too. Arrgghh. I want to cut myself, too. But of course, I won't! I feel like it. As her Mother, I want to take her pain away, but I can't.

So, no alcohol. No hurting myself. How else can I punish myself? Turning my anger inside. The new kittens are hiding under the basement steps. Yeah, they are safer there. Why do they curl around my feet when I am trying to walk? Why?! Do they have a death wish?

Big breath. Fresh air. All better, now.