Posts Tagged ‘Inspiration’

I think that I could most likely write a book over my recent visits, yes more than one, to the local hospital. There were moments of hysterical laughter, with some good natured nurses, aides and Dr.’s. There were moments of sheer terror of all the needles. So far, so good. One day at a time.

The list of things wrong with me kept getting bigger, so did the list of medications and their lovely side effects. Do you remember the lyrics to the song from decades ago entitled “Go Ask Alice?” Same name and performed by Jefferson Airplane. I am reminded of the line, “One pill makes you larger…”

Boy, did it! This one pill gave to me about twenty pounds in a week.

Fat feet and legs

Fat feet and legs

Remember that post I did a while ago and there was that question of “Can you imagine getting sick at the airport and having the terminal Dr. wait on you?” I forgot to include “Why is it that we see Dr.’s that just practice medicine?” I think I met a few that still just practice.

Some of the patients whom I shared the rooms with were great, and others not so. Miss you Janet!

I am now 8 days into radiation, 2 days of chemo, and I think I am pretty good so far. The side effects could be worse, and I knock on wood that are not. While I have wanted to write for this blog, I have had to put it off and have just worked on the Mondays Finish the Story blog.

Arnold said in one of his movies, one of the Terminator movies, “I’ll be back.” I will be with some updates every now and then.

Be well… ^..^

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Have you ever had one of those days where you simply have had enough and then something else falls from the sky, drops in your lap, and voila, you simply have to take that on too?

Recently I have had a series of events occur that are over the top and I wanted to share this with you.

Going back a bit to the beginning of last year, a blood test revealed that I had a cancer. All last year and into this, I have been undergoing treatment. There have been a number of side effects to say the least.

One of these I have been referring to as a “spell.” It is rapid heartbeat and low blood pressure. Both the oncologist and the primary care doctors told me not to worry. I don’t know about you, but for me this was a worrisome deal. On a recent Saturday, when I was having one of these spells, I looked to my husband and said, “Take me to the emergency room. Let’s find out what is really going on here.”

Now, I could really get into the details here but would rather not. Suffice it to say, there was a treatment to settle down my heart, xrays, and more. One of the funny moments, if there can be any, was when the ER nurse handed me this tiny cup to use for a urine sample. With all the wires coming off me, how was I ever going to hit target zero? I felt like I was the meatball in a huge bowl of spaghetti.

I ended up spending quite a bit of time in the hospital. More than I expected. I was in for a total of 16 days, or slightly over half of August. What they discovered was that I have a fixable heart condition. The next thing they discovered was pneumonia. I thought this would quarantine me, but surprisingly it did not.

Over the course of my time in the hospital, I had numerous xrays, too many blood tests, insertion of a PICC line to enable the nurses to draw blood, respiratory treatments, and whole slew of tests, and pills, pills and more pills. Then there was the food.

The nurses bragged about the good food that comes from their cafeteria. The food was really bad. If they added a bit of applesauce to their apple muffins, eating one of these would be moist and flavorful rather than bland and dusty. Dinner plates were attended with a dull knife. There can be no serrated edges to a knife handed to a patient as they might cut themselves. I found it was easier to eat like a cave man. It just worked out better. The staff was not happy that they kept having to change my gown and sheets.
Upon release, they told me that I had a fixable heart condition and the pneumonia. They also told me that I was suffering from COPD, and a slight trace of emphysema. They were waiting for results from a test they did on my lungs, and it would be about another week before we knew what those results would be.

Did I mention that I gained 20 pounds in the two weeks? It was not from the hospital food. One of the drugs causes major water retention. I swear I can hear myself sloshing as I walk. The swelling has my ankles looking like I had sprained both of them. Maybe I should add a bit of purple and green eye shadow. At least I now I know what my feet probably looked like when I was a baby. All the wrinkles are gone there and in my face too. Who cares that I look like a chipmunk? Hey, maybe they should just give this drug out instead of using a Botox based drug to create a youthful looking you.

When we finally found out the results of the tests, we were told that I now have stage 3 cancer. The other cancer does not seem to be with me anymore, but this one is.

So, now you know why my responses to you and new postings have shifted. This last week has been one Dr. appointment after another as things get lined up and ready for the start of my treatments. My treatments will be a combination of radiation and chemotherapy, and I believe it will begin next week.

As if is this is not enough, one more thing happened. It took us once again to the ER. I have a blazing red and purple rash on my abdomen that turned up quickly. This ugly little rash turns out to be shingles. I can now pass on chicken pox! Wahoo! One never expects to hear hysterical laughter in the ER, but after hearing this is what I had, my husband and I did just that: We laughed our asses off.

We have new challenges to face, my husband and I, and we will be doing so head on and with a positive outlook. I want life to be as normal as it can be considering the circumstances. I am hoping that I will be able to post to the Life in the Foothills blog on a regular basis, and same with the Mondays Finish the Story blog. If there is a bit of delay in my replying to a comment, commenting on your story, or doing a post, I ask that you bear with me. I have an offer from one of my blogging friends to help me out, and if I need to I will take her up on that.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post and remember: Be well… ^..^

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Today, the start of a work week, is the day that I devote to hosting the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. In the challenge, I ask that you write a story using between 100-150 words and that you use the opening line and the photo prompt to create your story. The opening line of the challenge is not included in the word count. Here is my story with the opening line in bold and italics.

© 2015, Marcy B. Ayanian

© 2015, Marcy B. Ayanian

As her mount shifted uneasily under her, she grasped the brim of her old felt Stetson, gazed upwards and remembered Jean Pierre,” and what a jerk he had been to her. She was not going to forget the lessons she learned while with him.

It was a delicious romance at first, and then at around the three-month mark he began to show his true colors. His biggest problem was alcohol. When cleaning up his house one day, when she asked him where the broom was he replied, “Where did you park it?”

In an alcoholic haze, he would have flashbacks of his ex. Instead of the ex’s face, the visions changed the face to hers. She remembered the morning when she awoke to find him on the couch. He told her that in the middle of the night she had kicked him out of bed telling him, “This is no place for little boys.”

The night that he almost struck her with a chair was the last straw. Jean-Pierre died that night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mondays Finish the Story

I would like to thank my dear friend Marcybee for not only supplying the photo for this week’s challenge, but the opening line as well. If you would care to join in on this challenge, then click HERE!

Thank you dear reader for taking the time out of your busy day to drop on by for a quick read. Be well… ^..^

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Rig - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Rig – Photo by Alastair Forbes

Upon looking at the big rig, the front part of a semi-truck, which is to be the subject of this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, thoughts brewed through Barb’s mind. “How does this photo inspire me?” A series of questions came to mind.

Why do they call them semi-trucks?

What do they deliver in semi-trucks? Occasional furniture.

What do they call occasional furniture the rest of the time?

Why do we call it a hamburger when it is made of beef?

Can you imagine getting sick at the airport and having the terminal Dr. treat you?

If cannibals ate clowns, would they taste funny?

Aren’t all babies new?

Why do Dr.’s practice medicine?

Looking again at the rig, I realize that for today, this is as good as it gets.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thank you Al for the photo and for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. And to you dear reader, I thank you for stopping by today. Be well…. ^..^

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Checking out today’s WordPress Photo Challenge topic is “connected.” Ben Huberman asks that we “go literal or figurative, abstract or explicit.” Here are my connections…

A father and son…

Spending time together

Spending time together

A fungus found on a tree…The texture found in a spongy tree fungus

One side of the river meets the other because of a bridge…

Crossing a bridge

Crossing a bridge

The north and the south merge…

A mirage on the road

A mirage on the road

Sand and beach…

PV from the waters edge

PV from the waters edge

Pollen + bees = honey…

In flight

In flight

Cheating at cards…

Winning more card games against the neighbors

Winning more card games against the neighbors

Did you see the connections? I hope so! Thanks for stopping by today. Have an amazing weekend! And, be well… ^..^

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Monday is usually the day that I write a story for the Mondays Finish the Story challenge. Still in recovery, I am a bit late in getting my story in. The challenge, asks that you write a story using between 100-150 words and that you use the opening line and the photo prompt to create your story. The opening line is not part of the word count. Here is my story with the opening line of the challenge in bold and italics.

The Devils Abode - © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

The Devils Abode – © 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

“The cemetery spread along the area known as Devils Abode.” It was a sacred burial site for the Yunki tribe. Years later, the gold miners overtook the area. Recently Smithkin and Kerns, a developer, bought the land.

S&K was putting up a multi-unit condominium. It was a stick building. Framing to the third floor just completed. All burned down. Fire investigators could not explain the cause.

The insurance company paid the developer. Construction began again. Framing went up and the building burned down for the second time. What was uncovered was part of the original Yunki burial ground. Burned bones were found and the only explanation was there was a curse.

The third and last time they tried to build, someone saw a man leaning against the building. He chewed on a toothpick, and was sharply dressed. He did not approve of the building. Flipping the toothpick from his mouth, end over end it went, igniting as it landed.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

I hope that you enjoyed my bit of flash and that you have had a wonderful day.

You too can join in on this challenge by clicking HERE!

Be well! ^..^

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Inside - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Inside – Photo by Alastair Forbes

All it took was a quick stumble. The toe of the left shoe caught on a small piece of uplifted stone. He landed flat on his face. Rolling over, he checked out his ankles and knees. He saw no major cuts or scrapes.

Now what was it that his shoe caught on? There it is. He moved over towards it and noticed that the stone now had a series of spalls. Taking out a wide paintbrush, he started to clear the area. More and more of the pieces splintered away.

He knew he had discovered something significant. He received government funding to continue the project, was able to hire a team to do the archeology, and secure for him a nice place to stay.

While clearing one of the many painted walls, he found himself caught up in the scene that was emerging in front of him. Looking closely it began to move. “How can that be?” he thought.

In a rush and a whirl, Alastair Forbes found himself in the painting, and could hear the echoes of the curse as he and the art became one.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

A huge thanks to Al for the inspiring photo, hosting the challenge, and for taking part in my bit of flash for the Sunday Photo Fiction.

Have an amazing Sunday and be well…. ^..^

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