The last straw!

Sunday was just an odd day.

It all began with a 5:00am phone call from my neighbor, but I’ll get to that in tomorrow’s post.

We had lots to do, and wanted to get to it so we stayed up and set to work.  Painting, hanging a new shelf, finishing Friday’s laundry, watering the covered beds, mucking out the goose chalet, with plans for later to go to the grocery store and stock up on provisions.

That was the plan.

Well, in the middle of mucking a breeze came up and something got into my eye.  Going into the house I couldn’t find anything, and besides it didn’t hurt anymore.  So I assumed it was out.  So, back to work!  However, later in the shower my eye started hurting again and I automatically rubbed it.

Big Mistake!!!  Isn’t there a first aid directive that states never to rub your eye when something gets in it?

Now, I am in pain and begin cupping shower water in my palm to try to wash it out.  I did this several times, but my eye is still killing me.  I quickly finished up and got dressed, then told Bob I needed to go to urgent care.   The brand new Urgent Care facility has closed its doors!  So it’s on to Huntsville Hospital.  (Suddenly, a $35.00 co-pay jumps to a $250.00 co-pay.)

The reception desk says they will get me right in to the eye clinic, and they did!  Sitting there in the darkened room I am thinking about how much we move our eyeballs.  Have you ever noticed how much your eyes move?  It is involuntary and I am trying desperately not to move my eye.  Finally a sweet nurse comes in and puts drops in my eye for the pain.  Wha-hoooooo!  the pain is instantly gone and I can see again!

She smiles, leaves the room and comes back with a little pouch of saline solution and says, “I’m going to stick this little contact thingy in your eye to irrigate it, OK honey?

Morgan Lens

Looks like a suction cup from an octopus tentacle, doesn’t it?  Thankfully, the drops kept me from feeling this torture device.

So I’m resting my head on a towel, with my eye over the sink, and this cold solution is going in.  It doesn’t hurt, but the dribble of the solution is tickling the outside edges of my eyelid.  I want to rub my eye!  Now the solution is running into my ear and the towel when suddenly this song from the 40s pops into my head.  Laughing I told the nurse about it and she says, “Oh, you mean tears in your beer?

No, it’s ears not beer,”  I said,  and sang the first line…

I’ve Got Tears in My Ears  by Homer and Jethro

I’m certain it’s beer,” she said.  Well, now we all know it’s ears.  😉

Well, now I’ve been medicated, irrigated, and my nurse goes off duty.  Two hours later the medication is wearing off, Bob is irritated, and I am getting agitated!  Finally, after sitting in the dark for two and a half hours, the Dr. comes in and flips on all the lights, pulls open my eye and puts a yellow dye stick in there.  Can you feel the burn?  She turns the lights back off and looks into my eye with a black-lighted magnifier and says,

“There’s a big scratch on your cornea, but I don’t see anything in there.”

I ask for more pain drops and she said, “You’ve had the prescribed dose for a 24 hour period and we can’t give you any more.”

I’m thinking, “WHAT?  My eye is killing me again and you can’t give me more?”    I’m angry now.   I try not to move my eye.

~.~

Last night I was looking into the magnifying mirror and trying to put the antibiotic drops in.  I see a small speck the size of this —> .    Sticking my finger into my eye to get it out, I touch it,  and it sticks to my fingertip.

Wondering what it was?

It was a soggy $250.00 piece of straw.

Straw-Bale3Image courtesy of Ten Plus Hay.  Please click the image to be taken to their site.

Once Upon a Time in the West: a new years resolution kept

Many years ago I was a smoker.  My parents smoked, my brothers and sister grew up to smoke, and eventually, so did I.

I remember smoking my first cigarette.  It was on my eighteenth birthday and it was a day of firsts for me…

I ditched school, and while my parents and siblings were out of the house I locked myself in the bathroom where I stood in front of the mirror and proceeded to drink a beer and smoke a cigarette.  I remember thinking all my friends who were brave enough to defy their parents looked pretty cool.  Not me.  I stood there looking at my reflection I thought,

“You look like a jackass.” and  “This is not cool.”

I never touched a drink or a cigarette again until I went into the Navy, where once again I was surrounded by those who did.  It started out as smoking only one or two cigarettes when I went to  dance clubs with friends, but this quickly and easily became an everyday habit.  A habit I would continue, and that would escalate over the years.

Smoking, I would soon find out, was no less addicting than we are told drugs or alcohol are, and very hard to quit.  Perhaps no one else has told you this, but I believe it is difficult to quit because it’s socially acceptable.  You can go to any store or gas station to purchase them, and simply put:   It is a habit that is nearly impossible to quit.   From personal experience I can tell you that quitting nicotine will drive you to the jitters and give you fits of temper that only a saint (or my husband) could survive!

Pack_of_camel

Many years later, I was smoking three packs a day, Camels, no filter, and didn’t realize how many I actually smoked until my father got cancer.

Now I had previously tried to quit, at least four or five times, and never succeeded until Dad died.  No gory details folks, just know that it gave me the resolve to finally commit to that old New Years Resolution to quit for good!

Here is how I succeeded.

First, I got a small, spiral bound pocket notebook.

small sprial bound notebook

In this notebook I made a hash mark for each cigarette I smoked in a day.   Let me tell ya, I had not a clue that I was up to three packs a day!  This and my father’s passing were a real wake up call!

I sat there and tried to imagine how I could successfully quit such a deeply entrenched habit.   I finally reasoned that  I hadn’t started out smoking all three packs in a day, and therefore I wouldn’t expect myself to just give them all up in one day.Hash marks

Each day I kept track in my little pocket notebook with hash marks, and each day I smoked one less cigarette.  It took a long time,  but by cutting out just one a day it didn’t seem to hurt at all!  Well, until about the halfway mark.  Then I found moments in the day when I realized I needed to pace myself or run out before bedtime.  (I know, can you believe it?)

So during these times of no cigarettes I would send up a quick prayer.

“God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!”

The less I smoked in a day the more I repeated my prayer, and it became my mantra to get me through the day,

“God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, just get me through this moment, Thank you! God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!   God, just get me through this moment, Thank you!  God, please just get me through this moment!”

This went on until one evening when I was sitting on the couch watching TV with Bob, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open for the stress.  I was down to seven cigarettes a day and still had three to go, but all I really wanted to do was go to bed and sleep.  I turned to Bob and said,

“I have three cigarettes left to go, and I’m ready to just quit now.  Would you do me a favor?  Would you take all the ashtrays out of the house and put them into the garage, and would you please help me out by smoking outside from now on?”

Now the old me would not have been so gracious, but he said, “YES!”  As I lay in bed I heard him go from room to room and take all the ashtrays away.  What a sweetheart!  He spent the next year smoking in the garage or on the patio until he made the decision to quit, and  I was so proud of him too!

I think it was at least a year before I realized I was cured.  I was sitting on the couch absently reaching for something on the coffee table when it hit me, and I thought,

“OH, Yeah!  I don’t do that anymore!”

~*~

If you smoke here are some things to consider…

What’s in that cigarette?

Some Kills

Some Kills (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

NOTE:  I am sorry that the wording is lacking in this graphic, but it still makes a point.

Smoking-Kids-Glamour-Shots_4

Smoking doesn’t make you look grown-up.

Not Glamorous

Smoking doesn’t make you look sexy.  In fact, it ages you beyond your years!

So my point in telling you all this isn’t to shame anyone who smokes, nor to tell you that you should quit.  I am simply relating to you my personal experience and sharing what worked for me.

~*~

If you have decided that one of your resolutions for 2013 is to finally quit, then I wish you every success in your decision!

~*~

This post was inspired by the Daily Prompt: Resolved.  Wherein they asked this question, “Have you ever made a New Year’s Resolution that you kept?

If you need me I’ll be in the dispensary…

Over a two-day period I watched my two new baby goslings become a bit less exuberant, less talkative, eat less and drink more.  By mid morning on the second day they were sleeping by their water bowl and dipping their heads over the edge to drink.

So I sat there being concerned, watching and listening, as any good goose mother would, and that’s when I heard it!

“snick”  breathe in, “snick”  breathe out.

Not wanting to believe what I was hearing I ran to the kitchen and turned off the dishwasher.  The house was now silent.  I tiptoed back to the babies sat down and really listened.

“snick”  breathe in, “snick”  breathe out…

and with the horror that any mother might feel the first time her baby gets sick, I ran to look up goose disease and treatment.  I read for an hour and could not make sense of it.  Too many diseases, too many similar symptoms and most requiring different medications and procedure.  So I called the vet.

The only avian vet in North Alabama who will treat farm birds is 47 miles away, and it would take me an hour to get there.  I called and they made me an appointment for 4:00 PM.

The Dr. examined them, did labs, and came back with the verdict:  Streptococcus (bacterial infection) and a severe yeast infection.  The yeast was from airborne moisture in their food causing it to spoil (the new bag is now being stored in the house to keep it dry).  We are uncertain as to exactly where they came into contact with the Strep.  So until they are well and their immune system is stronger they are strictly INSIDE.

So, now my day is filled with twice as many “Diaper changes”

And resultant laundry which must be hung outside to dry because my @#!%& dryer broke this week (more on that later)

So, I am dispensing two meds to the babies via an oral syringe, two times per day, one of which must be crushed and mixed with 5 ml of water.  Putting an oral syringe down a goose’s throat is an adventure.  Doing this, essentially, eight times a day is torture.  For all of us!  

 My guest bathroom has now been turned into

a dispensary for the next 10 days.

Cost for the vet?

$270.00

I do it all for these little fellas…

And I hope they,

and I,

survive the ordeal.

~*~

Thank you all in advance for your prayers and well wishes for their recovery.  It means a lot to me.

Dogs and Cats and TICKS… oh my

The appearance of a tick on your favored pet can give you the heebies for certain.  However, finding one attached to yourself can send you over the edge!  I have on several occasions found ticks crawling on me,  and now can sense almost immediately when I feel one on my skin.  EW!  And so it is, from time to time, that I have found them attached to me.  Shudder… and they seem to prefer that soft tissue around my belt line, or the hairline of my head.

This year the authorities have been predicting a high tick season, due to the unusually warm winter and early spring.   I think they are correct, because so far this spring I have found and removed two ticks from our bed, three ticks from myself, and HORRORS, one that was attached to me yesterday.

The cats and dogs of course are flea and tick free due to monthly applications of a preventive medication.  However, this does not mean that they are not carriers of the little beasties.  I got one from the cat when I picked her up to put her outside earlier this week.  Fortunately, I saw it on my shirt and dispensed with it immediately!

So what can you do when you have been latched onto by a tick?  Well, read on, but warning… if you are squeamish then stop here.

But seriously? 

You need to know this!

How to safely remove a tick

There are many ways to remove a tick, but only one recommended and sure way to safely remove a tick.

What you will need:

  1. Alcohol wipes
  2. Tweezers with  long, smooth, pointed tips
  3. Fortitude and a steady hand

Procedure:

  1. Find the little sucker
  2. Clean the area with alcohol
  3. Grasp the little beast’s head down close to the skin… while trying not scream
  4. Now, gently but firmly pull straight out until the head and mouth parts pull free from your skin
  5. Clean the area with a fresh alcohol wipe and try not to pass out
  6. Keep an eye on the area of the bite to make sure it does not develop a redness or target shaped rash.  If so, get to the Doctor for treatment right away. 

THINGS NOT RECOMMENDED IN THE REMOVAL OF A TICK:

  1. Just wait it out.   The little sucker will get full and fall off all by itself.  This will guarantee the transmission of the spirochetes that give you Lime Disease if the tick is a carrier.  Do you feel lucky?
  2. Burn its little backside with the head of a hot match.  This is GROSS, and ineffective!
  3. Apply Vaseline.  This is not gross, but is equally ineffective.
  4. Grab the body, squeezing tightly, and pull.  This will cause the contents of the little creep to enter your bite site for certain.  GAACK!
  5. Grab the little sucker and give it a good twist and pull motion.  Do you really want to leave that head and mouth parts behind?  I don’t think so.

Yesterday, I found an infant, or nymph, sized tick along that belt line I told you about.

It was the size of the one on the right.

I used the preferred method, but unfortunately the little sucker has left me with a parting gift…  So this afternoon at 4:15PM I have an appointment with the Doc to have his little head removed.

GAACK!

Last night I told Bob that I will be ordering guinea hens.  Strangely, this time he didn’t argue with me.  🙂

Yup!  That aught-about do it!

~*~

So what is it that can make your hair stand on end?

~*~