Missouri Countryside

Newly Hatched Guinea Keets!

2011-09-15T14:41:00.005-05:00

Aren't they just too cute? Ordinarily, I don't let the girls sit on the eggs, but a local lady that I'm friendly with said that she'd like to have some guinea keets. At first I just gave her some eggs for hatching, but they weren't having great success with that.

So, I told her that I would let the girls sit on some eggs to try to get a few for her. Of course, they all started hatching when I was in the hospital, so my husband got the pleasure of collecting them from some none-too-happy guinea mama's!

It was sporadic at first, a few here and there, and my family members were taking turns delivering them to the lady since I was laid up from my surgery. I no longer have my heat lamp for them, but fortunately I have an unairconditioned room in the attic that was nice and warm for them, and added a small lamp with a regular 60 watt lightbulb in it for overnight.

A Cool-Whip lid made an improvised feeder for them, and I scrounged up a plastic lid with a narrow groove around the outside for a make-shift waterer. A medium sized rock in the center of the water lid held it firmly in place. This worked fine for the one day that I would keep them before handing them off to her. I'm not so sure it would work very well for any length of time though.

All told, I think I have probably given her around 20+ of them, with the largest one day hatch of 10! All were nice lively little keets, and I hope that they will thrive at their new home.

I understand from my husband that it was quite an ordeal collecting the main hatch from the guinea mom's, and truly I don't know how he managed to do it single-handedly, but he did! No blood was drawn either, though his hair was all tousled and he did show some signs of a skirmish, but he's none the worse for it!

Still, I can't help but chuckle when I think of the chase that must have ensued...10 bouncing little keets running willy-nilly, and who knows how many adult guineas in the fray, with my husband in the middle of it all, armed only with a broom ;)

Thyroid Cancer

2011-09-15T13:15:00.004-05:00

Just a quick update - I do still fully intend to finish my hellish nightmare story, but I've been busy on the healthcare front.

I didn't go into great detail on the stuff that started all of this stuff, but it first came to light that something was very wrong back at the end of December of 2008 when I lost consciousness and fell on my head, breaking several bones in my face including something the EMT called a "blow-out fracture" which was quite painful.

They did a CT scan at that time of my head and neck, and found a 2.2cm lump on the left lobe of my thyroid.

To make a very long story shorter, the primary care doctor that I was seeing then did nothing at all about it. He didn't even look at it. He pretty much snorted and said something about how common those are.

Changed to doctor #2, who is in the same office, and who I actually used to go to, as I was adding new symptoms regularly and feeling worse as time was marching on. He ran thyroid hormone tests, declared it fine and that was that. He didn't look at it either.

In the middle of the hellish nightmare, I switched to the local doctor - partially because I was way too weak and sick to make the trip to the other and partially because I was totally disgusted with the other at that point. He ended up sending me to an endocrinologist, mostly because I wasn't taking no for an answer regarding my salt issues and pretty much was demanding that somebody at least check on my adrenal function.

She is on the ball, a sharp lady and a nice person to boot. The minute she looked at me, she said "you have a lump". Then she said that she would check on my adrenal function, but that she had to find out about that lump. She ran some blood work and measured the lump at 2.4cm, then scheduled a biopsy.

In the meantime, she did do some adrenal bloodwork, and actually found my cortisol level to be too high. (that wasn't the cause of my salt issue - see Bactrim, and specifically the trimethoprim component, which I believe to be at least partially to blame for that - but I didn't know that then)

I went for the biopsy, which came back as "undiagnostic". She remeasured the lump, which had grown to 3.3cm. I then went for a radioactive iodine scan, to determine if the lump was hot or cold. It came back as "cold" and she hooked me up with a surgeon. In the meantime, over the course of about 3 days, I lost 10 pounds. Then a few days later, 3 more. It was crazy - weight I really didn't need to loose either.

While waiting for my surgeon appointment, I had my first kidney stone - no fun, but not half as bad as what I went through previously.

On to the surgeon, surgery was scheduled for the left lobe and a second surgery tenatively scheduled depending upon the pathology report on the first.

During surgery, the initial pathology came back as not cancerous, so I stayed the night and went home the following day.

Two days later, the final report came back as a 1.8cm papillary thyroid cancer that was within the larger lump. The surgeon called and told me that there was some debate amongst doctors as to whether the other side needed removing, but that he recommended it, and wanted to do it the next day. I asked if I could briefly think about it, quickly looked it up, found an endocrinology site that suggested that as much as 88% of the time it goes into the other lobe, and my decision was made. I called him back and said "let's do it".

So back to the hospital the next day to get the right side out. It turns out that there also was a .6 - .8 (depending on which report you look at) cancer in that lobe as well, so I am well rid of it.

I am now about to do the radioactive iodine treatment to kill off whatever remains of any thyroid tissue and hopefully any cancer cells remaining as well, as soon as it's all healed up enough. I'm wondering a bit whether this could be responsible for all of my neck and back issues that I've had, as the thing must have been in there for quite some time. I understand that it is a slow growing thing, and they have excellent results with the treatment, so I'm happy about that. But you can't help but be a bit concerned when it was obviously there when they first found it almost 3 years ago....It might have been in there for a decade or more.

I do not know if this could be responsible for all of my other issues or not, once it all shakes out we'll see. If I am still having issues after the cancer is taken care of, I'll go from there. I still have an assortment of what I imagine are nerve issues, mostly stuff I can live with - but it would be nice to know if they are going to progressively get worse, stay the same or ever get better. I suppose one way or the other time will tell.

I have to say this. I have been pleasantly surprised and well pleased with the level of care that I received at the hospital that I went to for all of the thyroid stuff. It is quite a drive from my home, and is a smaller regional hospital, but the people there are great. It also is the cleanest hospital I've seen recently (and I've seen a few - see previous posts).

I mentioned this fact to a nurse who did some of my presurgery stuff, and she shook her head in agreement. She also said that it wasn't always so. Apparently they had gotten a new guy in charge a while back, and he cleaned house. She said that he called a big meeting, and told them that he did not care if they'd been there for 40 years, that they were paid good money not to take their bad days out on the patients, and he wasn't going to put up with it. I guess some of them were shown the door. This is just exactly what needs to happen at every hospital everywhere.

You have no idea how glad I was to hear that. It shows too. Everyone there - and I mean everyone - from the people that clean your room to the doctors, are nice people. You don't feel like you have to flip a coin when you go in there, heads you get a nice one, tails you get a real piece of work. It's just not an issue there.

Needless to say, I've found the hospital for me. I only wish it were closer, as it's way too far for an emergency situation. Still, when I have a choice that is where I intend to go. They are simply the best that I've encountered.

The Ugly Side - People who shouldn't be in healtcare

2011-04-06T10:42:00.018-05:00

This is going to take some time - it's a long story. But I need to do it. I'm getting strong again, and I am angry about the way I was treated when I was weak, sick, and vunerable. I've always been a champion of sorts for just those people. I've never liked bullies, and that is what some of these people are.

If it could happen to me, it could happen to you or your loved ones too. No way will I ever be treated that way again. I'm picking it up at the onset of "hell", but I had undiagnosed problems before that:

The Entrance to Hell, in detail:

Nov. 27, 2010 - A Saturday. We had our Thanksgiving dinner that day. My neck issue was so bad that day that I'd had to have others get the turkey out of the oven. I told my mother that I'd go to the doctor on Monday, because it was approaching the unbearable point. I'd been trying to tough it out to get through the holiday soap season, and sleeping with an ice pack on it seemed to quiet it a little. I had all of my soap made and was just then thinking I'd made it through Thanksgiving dinner and could get somebody to figure it out.

Didn't make it. Mom and Dad had already headed back home, we were all having a cozy evening watching the "Bee Movie" on tv and snacking on the holiday goodies. During a commercial break, I thought that I'd better start getting some of the other food put away, so I got up and headed for the kitchen.

As soon as I stood up, a wave of diahhria hit. Detoured to the bathroom. I don't usually go into detail about this sort of thing, but it was extraordinary. Felt like my inards were trying to get out. I was glad it was over. Went back to the movie.

Felt fine as I sat there. Next commercial, got up again to put the food away, and again, the diahhria hit. This was even more intense than the last one. Thought "oh crud, I hope it's not the turkey". This time, I asked the others if they felt okay. They did. So I sat back down to watch the movie, but before the next commercial, had another bout. This repeated probably 5 to 7 times.

Finally, the worst bout yet ended with a bloody mess. The others had not been bloody. Thought "oh crap". I went and asked my oldest daughter (18 years old) to come here for a minute, and told her that while I didn't mean to gross her out, I thought that I may have a problem and wanted her to know in case it went downhill from there. I showed her the bloody diahhria. She wanted me to go to the hospital then, but I actually felt better - for a moment - and told her that it could just be a germ. I knew that there were germs that could cause that. I told her that I would look it up and see if it warranted that.

It was fine, until I stood up again. This time I was in another room, at my computer. As soon as I stood up, a fluid (I assumed blood) could be felt gushing in the upper left side of my body and I was getting a shocky feeling. I headed for the living room, and told my daughter to call an ambulance as I was close to losing consciousness. I laid on the floor, fluid still gushing, hanging on to consciousness by a thread. It took probably 25 minutes for the ambulance to arrive, and I actually felt like the gushing had stopped and was doing slightly better by then. Still not feeling like it would be good to stand up though.

Ambulance came, went to the hospital, they ran blood work and did an abdominal CAT scan. The nurse said that the doctor had ordered pain medication and asked me if I wanted it now, as my abdominal pain was minimal and I was very nauseous. I told her that it may help my neck pain, but that if it would make me any more nauseous maybe it would be best to wait. Doctor came in and said that it could be something like Crohn's disease, though it was usually diagnosed at an earlier age. He asked if I felt like going home, and said that I could follow up with my doctor to see a gastroenterologist. I said that that would be fine. He gave me a prescription for Bactrim DS, Flagyl, and Lomotil. At that point it was probably 1:00am, and to get them filled would have meant a trip the opposite direction from home, and I was totatally wiped out. So we headed home, and my husband went and filled them in the morning.

Sunday - Got up, husband had filled prescriptions, so I took one of each - Bactrim DS, Flagyl, and Lomotil. I hadn't had any more "movements" but it felt like it could happen any time, so I went ahead and took a Lomotil. Shortly afterwards, my neck suddenly felt much better. I thought that was very odd, but shrugged and thought that maybe something in there was infected - didn't know why else it would have quit hurting, as it had been hurting for a very long time.

Later that day, neck started hurting again. That evening I took my antibiotics, but didn't take the Lomotil, as I had not had anymore diahhria (or any movement at all) and my mouth was very, very dry. I chalked the dryness up to the Lomotil, and thought that I'd best not take it as I hadn't had a bowel movement since the hospital. So I took only the antibiotics, and waited expectantly for my neck to stop hurting. It didn't. Several hours later it still hurt like a son-of-a-gun. I thought that was strange....wondered if it could be the Lomotil that made it quit, but didn't know why that would be, and didn't dare take another considering the dryness and lack of movement. I had felt reasonably well, considering, for most of the day. Took it pretty easy, but all in all felt acceptable. Tried to drink a lot of water and Gatorade, as I was trying to help the dehydrated feeling. Turned in early since I was still really tired from all of that.

Monday - Got up, took my antibiotics, called to get into the doctor. I was not feeling too well at all by the time I got to the doctors. Felt considerably worse than Sunday, and my upper left side was acting up again. It had been since April of 2009, but all they ever did was tell me to drink Gatorade, and I was getting a little irritated about that right at that time, as I'd been up there in August after an extremely painful left side episode and they didn't do anything at all. Paid them $60 to tell me to drink Gatorade, and now here I was with bloody diahhria that appeared to originate in the same zone. Wasn't really happy with them. The neck pain was back with a vengence, and even worse than it was. I felt weak and shaky too, which of course I attributed to the diahhria event. Figured it would take a while to get over all of that.

Okay - Doc had a different "nurse" than usual (his usual one is great)- This lady, on the other hand...She kept getting everything all mixed up. Had to tell her everything at least 3 times. I told her that I was taking the Bactrim and Flagyl, but that I had only taken 1 Lomotil, because the diahhria had passed. She said something like "well if you have diahhria you should take it". I told her that it had PASSED and so I didn't take anymore. She said "you quite taking all of these?" I said "NO - I AM still taking the Bactrim and Flagyl - I only QUIT taking the Lomotil, because the diahhria had PASSED, no more diahhria." Ordinarily, I probably wouldn't mind playing "who's on first" with her, but feeling as sick as I was I really was in no mood.

Then she took my blood pressure, and said "your pressure is up" - I told her that I didn't doubt that, as I was highly annoyed.

Doctor came in, asked about what had happened, I told him. He listened to my back, looked at my hand, and asked what the ER had told me. I told him that the ER doctor said that it could be something like Crohn's disease but that it was usually diagnosed earlier, and to get with him to see a gastroenterologist, which is why I'm here. The "official" diagnoses was "GI bleed".

He shook his head and mouthed the word "no", but offered no alternate diagnosis. That right there did it for me. (what am I paying you for, exactly? - I thought but didn't say) I told him that I'd about had it - my neck was killing me, that and the pain in my left upper had been going on since April 2009 and I wanted something done. He started saying something about colonoscopies being recommended at age 50, but that I should get a mammogram!! WHAT? Okay, for starters, I'd asked about a mammogram when I was 41, and a tetanus shot too, but they never did it or the tetanus shot either. BUT - why would I do a mammogram when I've had a GI Bleed? I'm sure that I probably looked at him like he was from Mars. Anyway, he decided to check my Vitamin D - must have taken a class, because back a year before, when the neurologist said my D was low (13), he repeatedly told me he didn't know anything about Vitamin D. I ended up ordering my own Vitamin D blood work for a while at $100 a pop, as the neurologist had suggested a 10,000iu a day dose, but that he should monitor it for me, which he refused to do because he "doesn't know anything about vitamin D" - in fact, I paid him $120 ($60 twice) to find this out. I couldn't afford to keep paying $100 to order my own, so I backed off on the D. You can get too much, you know.

He set up an X-ray for my neck and told me they would call to set up a colonoscopy. (which I still found strange, because the pain and gushing feeling all came from way up, upper left under ribs.) But I said okay. Went and got the Vitamin D blood drawn and left shaking my head and feeling like crap to go get my neck Xrayed.

Got the neck X-rayed, and shortly the regular nurse called and said that it looked fine. This didn't really surprise me any, as it really didn't feel like a bone issue and didn't think it would show anything.

Tuesday By this time I was feeling really crummy, worse than ever as a matter of fact. I kept taking my antibiotics, and slept alot. I decided to sleep on the living room floor, as it was easier to get my neck positioned just right to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, maybe 2 or 3 am, to this extremely prickly feeling all over my body, and it felt like my entire abdominal area was bloated. It was a very bad, all-over feeling, almost prickly/bubbly/ow all together. I didn't know what it meant, but knew it couldn't be good. Felt like a porcupine was under my skin almost - I later described it to my son as if there was soda pop + a hint of lye under the skin. I'd had alot of strange sensations, miscellaneous tingles, sunburn type feeling, and this & that before, but nothing even remotely like that. The neck was approaching the ridiculous on the pain scale.

My husband got up for work shortly, and I told him about it and how lousy I was feeling. He suggested going back to the doctor, and I told him that I didn't want to drive clear back down there with no result again - I was too sick, too weak, and too tired. He suggested that I make an appointment with the local doctor, and I agreed. I had faithfully kept going to the other doctor, because he had all of my records for probably the last 15 years or so and I thought it best to stay there, especially with the ongoing intermittant problems of the past 2 years.

Stayed up until they opened and made an appointment for that Friday. It was now Wednesday.

Wednesday My neck was just killing me and I was totally exhausted. I had finally decided to try 1 more Lomotil, even though I was still extremely dry - on the off-chance that IT had helped my neck on Sunday. I desparately wanted some sleep, but the neck pain made it impossible. Took the Lomotil, only half expecting anything at all, and low and behold, it worked! Shook my head, but thought to myself "whatever works, at least I can sleep now" - and sleep I did.

I was feeling slightly better upon awakening, and thought "good, maybe I just need to take a diahhria pill before bedtime - ha." I was still a bit concerned that I hadn't really had a bowel movement in some time now, but hadn't been eating a great deal, so thought maybe that was it.

Took my antibiotics, and got up and around a little bit. The more I was up and around the worse I felt, but the neck felt better when I stood up. I felt really weak by now, and thought I'd better take some vitamins since the bloody diahhria may have something to do with my fatigue, and I hadn't been eating alot - some, but not alot.

Wednesday Night into Thursday - Felt worse and worse as the night went on, couldn't sleep, neck was killing me, but was really afraid to take anymore Lomotil at that point, as I was beginning to worry about the lack of bowel movement. Totally exhausted, weak, shaky, and in a lot of pain. Thursday was just a blur, as I'd been up all night long, walking about the house as it somehow seemed to be better if I kept moving. I'd stop and rest, lay down and try to sleep, but it wasn't working well. Probably didn't sleep more than 30 minutes at a time.

At some point on either Wednesday or Thursday, I'd looked up the diahhria drug Lomotil, because I wondered why it would help my neck. It's a combination drug, containing a very small quantity of I believe and opioid plus a small amount of atropine. I didn't think that there was enough of the opioid in it to make such a drastic difference, so I looked up atropine - acts on muscarinic receptors. Thought "maybe that's it!"

My oldest daughter called and wanted to know if I'd come and get her, so that she could spend her 18th birthday with me. I was so weak and my neck was in rough shape, and I told her that I'd try it, but that I may possibly not. It is about a 60 mile round-trip, and I honestly didn't know if I could do it. I finally decided to give it a try, thinking that she's old enough to do the drive back if I couldn't. Went and got her and made it there and back, but was stomped by the time we got back home.

Doctor appointment was for something like 10:45 the next morning, and I thought I'd make it until then. Took my antibiotics and went to bed.

Friday December 3rd - Slept until the alarm went off, probably 8:30 or so - I was really exhausted and wanted to sleep until I had to get to the doctor, if sleep would happen. I felt much better that morning, as I HAD slept really well.

I chuckled to myself "yeah, you might know. Feel better this morning, now that I'm going back to the doctor. Maybe I just needed some good sleep." I went and put the coffee on, took my antibiotic, went to find some clothes. I went downstairs to check on some laundry, and considered waking up my daughter. I picked up my cell phone, thinking I'd call her (she was upstairs sleeping, but they always hear the cell phones) and see if she wanted to go with me to the doctor, then maybe get lunch somewhere, since it WAS her birthday, and I was feeling better.

Just as that thought went through my head (which is why I remember it so well), I was walking down the hallway to get my coffee, when MY NECK MUSCLES COMPLETELY GAVE OUT. It was the most sickening, grossest feeling I have ever felt. At the same time, I went completely deaf in my left ear.

Now, you don't really realize how heavy your head is, until something like this happens. But I'll tell you, it really is pretty heavy. I did manage to get myself to the sofa, at which time I DID call my daughter upstairs. I first tried to yell for her, but couldn't. Fortunately, the cell phone was on my wrist, and my neck muscles seemed to be the only ones not working.

She came down, I explained to her what had happened, and so as not to alarm her, told her that she'd have to call me an ambulance, because I couldn't get myself to the car with my head like that. I joked around with her a little bit, saying that I hadn't even had my coffee yet. (I'm known far and wide as a coffee lover)

The ambulance people came, and took me to the same hospital that I'd gone to for the bloody diahhria event, and my first encounter with evil healthcare people.

While I was laying there waiting for the ambulance, my mind was flipping through it's files, trying to remember...I had read years ago about something with neck muscle weakness, "grave weakness" - ah, myasthenia gravis. The name came to me, and on the way to the hospital, I wondered with the ambulance guy if it could be something like that or meningitis or something. He shook his head in agreement, and said "yes, maybe so."

My head was bobbing around when we hit bumps and felt sickeningly bad when it did, and he asked me if I wanted a brace on it to help hold it steady. I agreed, and it helped quite a lot. That was the ticket, and I thanked him.

Then we got to the hospital. I had the misfortune of getting the nastiest nurse I've ever encountered. She was horrible. As she went through her list of stuff on the computer, my neck was doing all sorts of weird sensations, and I was getting a bit worried about whether it was going to be permanently like that. She, on the other hand, was determined to find out when my last menstrual period was, and was not at all pleased that I didn't know the exact date. I guestimated, and told her not to worry, they'd done a pregnancy test when I was just there on Saturday night/Sunday morning. And besides, since then, I'd been in no shape for any of that sort of fun. She asked if I had any health issues. Yep. As I started to explain the issues to her, she walked out. At this point, my mouth was beyond dry. I had no spit - NONE.

I waited for her to ask again before I resumed, as like I said, I didn't have any spit whatsoever, and it was getting difficult to talk that much. In the meantime, another nurse had come in.

This was a very nice nurse. She asked me what was going on today, and I proceeded to tell her. At that point, I was nearly in tears because my neck and back of my head had begun to feel like it was pressurized, though the muscles felt better. My blood pressure and heart rate went way up, and she patted my arm and told me that they would get it figured out. Then she went out.

And left me with the evil one. She nearly yelled at me to get that gown on, and I told her that I wasn't sure that I could, as I still had the neck brace on, and wasn't sure what my neck was going to do. She repeated that I need to get that gown on, and I asked her why. I told her that I would try to, if there was some really compelling reason to, but otherwise wasn't sure my neck would go for it. She was quite obviously not happy about that, she even looked quite angry. I had my pajama top on, which was about as loose as hospital gown anyway.

In comes a medical student, who again asks, "what's been going on today" - Me with my complete lack of spit started all over again for the umpteenth time. Got about half way through, when another person came in and asked the same thing. It was getting painful to talk. I looked at my daughter and said "for crying out loud". Evil one is really getting pissed at me at that point.

At some point in all of the questioning, evil one asked about current medications, which I told her - mainly the Bactrim DS and Flagyl, and that I'd taken maybe 3 of the Lomotil over the past 5 days, because it seemed to temporarily help my neck possibly due to the atropine in it. This brought rolling of eyes from the evil one.

Nice nurse comes back and starts asking me some very relevant questions - I think she probably knew what it was right then. She said "that's good to know." Then she went back out, and left me with the evil one again. Fortunately, another nice lady came and got me to take me for a CT scan of my head & neck. She too was very kind to me.

Back to the little room with the evil one after that, when she decided that I needed to take the neck brace off. I told her I didn't want to, because my neck still felt all squishy and I didn't know what it was going to do. It felt much better with it on. She said "well you need to take it off. That's for people with cervical injuries". I said "well, something is going on with my neck and it feels better with it on". Again she said "you need to take it off." I said "Lady, please leave me alone." And that did it. She was pissed. She came back with a young, arrogant doctor who said "well you need to leave." Nice nurse and medical student were looking at me with this deer-in-the-headlights look, and my daughter was about to come unglued. I knew that I needed somebody to help me, but actually I REALLY wanted to get far, far away from the evil one. If I could have just had nice nurse and the medical student, I'd have been happy. I don't want those other two anywhere near me when I'm sick.

**Since, I have done my own informal poll of people in the community who have gone to this hospital, and sadly enough, my experience is there is not a unique one. One lady told me an almost exact story of her nurse's behavior. I asked her if her's was named Debra, and she said "no, Whitney". Which makes it even worse....there's more than one of them there. Needless to say, I won't ever go there again. Another thing, this is NOT a teaching hospital. I know that medical personell have to get trained one way or another, but explaining and re-explaining and beginning to tell someone "what's going on today" 50 times, only to have them wander off in the middle is NOT good - especially when you are sick enough to be in an ER in the first place.

So, I called my mom & dad to come and get us, while nice nurse took the IV contraption out of my hand without saying a word. My daughter wanted to go complain to someone, but I didn't think I should walk around too much as my head still felt wobbly and I had no shoes (was still in my pajamas). We went and sat outside to wait for my parents.

They finally got there, and by that time my head was really feeling strange. It is a difficult feeling to describe to someone who has never experienced anything like it, but it feels a lot like jello under pressure in the back of your head and spine. Not a good feeling, I assure you. It's about 22 miles from there to home, and about halfway my neck muscles started feeling like they were about to give out again, so I laid my head down on the car seat. That helped that, but made the pressure worse. (The pressure was still "mild" at this point) We finally made it back home, and I told mom & dad that I really did not feel up to company, so they left me with my daughter and headed home.

We went inside, and the head/neck was feeling worse and squishier, though the muscles seemed to be holding their own. I decided that I'd better try to go on up to the local doctor, since it was a Friday and I didn't want to be stuck all weekend. I was feeling so weak by this time that I really wasn't sure I could drive. We'd just driven down the street a short distance, when my neck muscles again gave out.

We happened to be at a T in the road when this happened, at a stop sign where you have to turn either left or right - traffic on that road doesn't have to stop. Not a problem, if you have control of your head - but if you don't, you can't look either direction. Thankfully I did have my daughter with me, who was understandably freaking out about that time. My head was basically laying against the headrest while I tried to steady/support it with my left hand/elbow, with my right hand on the wheel, and daughter wanting me to pull over and let her drive - but I told her I had to keep going, since even if I did pull over, how was I going to get out of the car like that? The pressure of my head on my neck was an indescribable feeling, one I hope to never have again.

We made it to the local doctor's office, and after laying back for a few minutes in the car seat, I thought it would make it into the building. Now by this time, I was getting quite scared. This was the second time that day that my neck had "given up" and I was becoming alarmed and concerned that it may eventually not come back to life. I explained to him what had happened, and asked if it could be something like the myasthenia gravis, or meningitis or what.

All of the people at his office were very nice to me. He was too. He ran a bunch of blood work, and said that he thought I had some "anxiety" too - REALLY? You think? Honestly, you try it sometime and see how your anxiety level is. I'm lucky I didn't crap my drawers. It was a ride to remember, I'll tell you that. For me and my daughter. Luckily, it was on a two lane country road, and not a freeway at rush hour.

My neck was back under my control at that point, so after the blood work we headed for home. Little did I know, that this was just the beginning of hell.

It CAN always get worse

Never think that "the worst is behind". At this point, I was feeling like I'd been in a train wreck or something. Feeling worse than I ever have in my whole life. There really wasn't any part of my body that wasn't miserable. My mouth by then was both bright red and also getting quite sore, which I attributed to days of total lack of saliva. My eyes were red, both the eyeballs and eyelids. I was getting a strange hue to my skin. I looked like I was morphing into a vampire oompa loompa. My palms and soles of my feet were a reddish-orange color. Eating was not appealing, even smelling food wasn't good.

Much of the next couple of days is blurry to me now - probably a good thing - but I'll tell you what I remember.

After we got back from local doctor, I pretty much paced the floor, because the neck and head pressure felt substantially better while standing. Sitting down only lasted a few minutes, laying down was impossible - made it much worse. I was going from scared to terrified about the spine/head.

At some point on Friday evening, during one of my pacing passes, the neck started giving out again, but this time was followed by the same feeling in all 4 limbs. I collapsed to the floor, and yelled for someone to bring me my squishy neck pillow. They stuck it under my forehead, because I was face down on the floor - thankfully, because the pressure in the base of my skull was almost unbearable at that point. I remember trying to move my right arm, but it wouldn't go. They called the ambulance yet again to come and get me. I remember them asking me where I wanted to go, and I remember telling them I didn't care, but not hospital #1. Couldn't possibly deal with the evil one now. We went to a smaller local hospital - hospital #2.

I remember laying there for a while, movement returned, doctor whacked my arm reflex, went for a CT scan. Started feeling better, and muscles returned. My husband at that point, decided that I was not doing a good enough job telling them what it "feels like". I told him that that was because it didn't "feel like" anything I'd ever felt before - it doesn't "feel like" anything else - it's in its own category.

About that time, while still sitting there, my daughter's eyes got big and she said "oh my God Mom - your mouth! What's all of that white stuff?" I told her that I didn't know, but maybe salt. I had a horrible grittiness and sore, red, horrible looking mouth and lips, which were splitting open by that time. I tried to lighten her mood a litle and told her "maybe I have rabies" with a weak smile.

Internally, I was thinking of thrush when she said that, and upon the doctors return, I asked him if this could all be due to the antibiotics. He said "no, you'd have other problems if it were that." I asked him if it could be due to some sort of bacterial toxin (the thought had crossed my mind, back when the prickliness first showed up) he smiled and said he didn't know. I had regained use of everything, though the pressure was still really bad in my head & neck, and it still felt really squishy. We went back home.

Now, it had been a REALLY long day. I was exhausted, yet sitting & laying was still not really something I was too interested in, due to the pressure getting MUCH worse. I decided that maybe I should try hard to eat something, as perhaps that was contributing to my general weakness.

My husband made me a mug of chicken noodle soup, and I sipped on it, thinking how extraordinarily salty it tasted. It was rough going down, given the state of my mouth, but I pressed on determined to get some nourishment down. I remember standing at the counter, sipping on the soup, when the squishy neck feeling suddenly got quite a lot better.

Cuss words cuss words cuss words. IT WAS THE SALT! I needed salt! More cuss words. My daughter and husband looked shocked - I rarely ever cuss, always thinking it the mark of an uncreative mind. Cuss words. I had no time to be creative. I went to the computer to look up salt regulation. What controls it. Therein must lie my problem. The answer? Well, lots of things do, but the short answer is kidneys & adrenal glands, and brain too. Thinking that surely someone would have figured it out if it were kidneys (though I haven't had a urinalysis in probably a decade - neither doctor offices nor hospitals had done any), I zeroed in on adrenal glands. That would be a place to start if it happened again, I decided.

By now, the pressure in my head & neck was totally unbearable. My mouth was in such rough shape - I desparately felt that I needed water, to try to quench the unquenchable thirst - really water didn't "stick" at all, if you know what I mean. BUT, every drink of water I took seemingly went straight to my spinal cord and back of my head. It NOTICABLY increased the pressure back there with every drink of water. I developed my "3 cup system". Cup #1 was water - had to take sips or go out of my mind with the mouth issues. Cup #2 was barely diluted salty soup - had to take sips or go out of my mind with spinal/head pressure. Cup #3 was strong coffee - thought it might help, due to being a diuretic, in keeping the pressure down.

All of the issues that I'd accumulated throughout the course of the week were becoming intensified - my back muscles felt very strange - doing weird stuff too, and my entire back felt like it had been dipped in BenGay or something, especially on the left. I looked like hell and felt even worse.

Sometime Saturday, I really started feeling like I was going to die. My insides felt bad. I still don't know if I can describe that feeling, but they did. They felt really bad. The outsides did too. My heart was doing weird stuff too - either going really fast or really slow. Blood pressure too, way up & way down. I have one of those wrist blood pressure things, and it wouldn't even register sometimes. It kept coming up with "error". Thought maybe it needed a battery, but that wasn't it. One glimmer of good - bowels were back in action. At some point in there, they had returned, but on again, off again. Peeing too, became a maybe yes maybe no proposition. It was like my whole body, inside & out, was spasming, for lack of a better word. I was not at all sure that I was going to make it through this. At some point, my daughter told me to come closer and said "Mom, your eyes look funny. Your pupils are like gone." I went and looked and she was right - thought "Man oh man, this can't be good."

I was becoming beyond exhausted, having not slept at all since Thursday night. I'd stayed up all night long on Friday night, faithfully sipping on the soup as it seemed to prevent the neck (and other) muscle give-outs. I had had no more incidences of the neck muscle collapse since the soup ah-ha moment, and I wasn't about to let it happen again if I could help it. The pressure problem in my spine and back of my head was getting worse though.

As long as I was up, I decided to look into reasons for spine/head swelling, and what could be causing my distress. I read something about rapid rehydration causing this, when someone has been dehydrated for an extended period of time. I thought that that could be a possiblity, considering that Gatorade is what everyone kept telling me would fix me right up, during the episodes of the past 2 years, and given the fact that they had indeed rehydrated me at the hospital on the diahhria visit.

My mind at that point, was in a whirl. I was in "survival mode" to be sure. I've always read a fair number of scientific papers, studies, articles and what have you. Like a giantic rolodex, my mind was frantically sifting, sorting, flipping - trying to figure out cause-effect-remedy of it all. It was a really bizarre state. My mind was moving fast - way faster than normal - rapid-fire thoughts came & went, considered and either dismissed or put into the "possibility" stack.

I hadn't quite lost it yet, but was getting very close. I also had become very sound sensitive - I could hear EVERYTHING. I could smell & taste everything too - I swear the tap water smelled and tasted just like swimming pool water. Bottled water tasted strangely of lemon. My mouth was in really bad shape though, so it maybe was due to that.

I went on several more hospital excursions, when the pressure got too great to bear - one memorable trip, while laying there in the back of the ambulance telling the EMT kid about my problem, there was a sudden rush of fluid from my upper back into what felt like the base of my skull - blood pressure shot up to ridiculous levels, heart rate too. At that point, I told the kid to let me up right away. He said "easy, easy" as we watched my blood pressure climb. I told him "I have to get up NOW!" He quickly undid the strap things, I stood up, and immediately my blood pressure started going back down, as did my heart rate. The pressure was still intense beyond belief. He said "wow, okay" and seemed a little puzzled. I had not brought my soup with me, so I asked him if he had any salt - any at all, even salt packets would do. He gave me several of the little syringe things that he said had a saline solution in them. I stood up in the ambulance, sucking on those while we both watched my blood pressure and heart rate normalize. At one point, he told me that I would need to at least sit, because of the area we were going through. So I sat, but it was terrible. The blood pressure started heading back up, but we were nearly there. I asked him if there was a way for them to check the pressure in my head. He said you have to drill a hole in the skull to do that. I groaned, thinking to myself that there was no way I trusted any of them enough for that at that point.

I was becoming terrified of the medical people at this point. They all seemed to be carrying bags of saline around, which scared the hell out of me. I'd been ever so carefully controlling my liquids and salt according to the pressure in my spine/head, and the mere thought of having that quantity of fluid dumped into my system came with thoughts of my brain exploding. I really wanted them to help me, but I was scared, tired, sick and becoming paranoid at that point. You could plainly see by looking at me that I was quite ill, but they didn't look. They thought I was crazy, and since I'd been to several hospitals, they really didn't even look at me. Not a single one actually examined me.

At one point, I remember telling my husband "I am so screwed. If the pressure in my head doesn't kill me, whatever's going on inside of me probably will."

Finally, on Sunday morning, I was totally and completely exhausted. Thursday night was the last time I'd slept and my legs were becoming too weak to carry me anymore. I dug through the medicine cabinet, looking to see if I had any type of steroids in there, as I was quite convinced that it must be my adrenal glands failing (the salt). I did find a dose pack of methylprednisolone from a couple of years ago that I'd never taken for a wrist issue. I wasn't really sure what it would do to me. I hoped that I wasn't wrong about taking them, and hoped that it wouldn't actually make whatever was wrong worse. But I didn't know what else to do. I'd tried mightily to get someone to help me, to no avail. At that point, I HAD to at least sit down, as my legs really were about to give out. I decided to take 4 of the tablets - first day dose is 6 tablets, so I figured it would be okay as long as the pressure didn't get worse.

So I took 4 of them. I walked around for a few more minutes. Looked at my daughter as she lay sleeping on the floor near the couch. I really thought at that point, that I wouldn't ever wake up. I thought I was going to die. I was thinking to myself how sad that I'd never get to see any grandkids, and how much I hoped that my kids knew how much I loved them. Then I went to sleep.

To be continued....

Part Two - The Good

2011-04-02T23:13:00.004-05:00

I've always strived to be a fairminded and evenhanded person, and so I think that I have to give credit where credit is due.

The neurologist (see "wonderful neurologist" link below) was probably my saving grace in all of this. I do not think that I would have been able to recover as I have without a few important things that he uncovered, one being the low B12 and the other being the anemia.

I guess there is no way to know for sure at this point, but I do believe that the B12 was at least possibly the cause of my neck/upper back issue that preceded all of this and had been paining me for quite some time. It is so very much better now as are alot of strange though not particularly troublesome sensations that I'd had also for a number of months. It did take several months of supplementation, but right around the beginning to middle of March, I noticed a drastic improvement. I am very, very pleased about that as it really was getting difficult to even turn my head. The various tingles and other odd sensations also have dramatically lessened, though I never really found them particularly troublesome.

Like I've said - don't know for sure, but I like to hope that that was it. It's better now, and I really am thrilled about that.

The anemia - he was the only one who caught it. I don't even want to think about how I'd be doing right now if he hadn't. I went back to the local doctor to find what to do about that, and he wondered how he had missed that. So I am grateful that someone caught it.

He "came late to the party" so to speak - and I was definitely not in the best frame of mind at that first appointment after all I'd been through, but he took whatever fragments of information I could offer, and seriously tried to make sense of my symptoms.

He and Judy both are tops in my book, and while I actually hope that I never need them again, they do give one hope that the helpful ones are still around.

I also have to give credit to the local doctor, who in spite of his initial hesitancy, did give me the steroids that my body was so desparate for. Again, I really do not know what the outcome would have been had he not. His staff also, were kind, considerate, and acted like they genuinely cared. He also "came late to the party" but also put in genuine effort.

I don't think I'd have been able to come out of all of this so well had it not been for these people, and I will forever be grateful that they were there for me. I was truly at a most desparate state by the time I landed in their offices, and I don't know what I would have done or if I'd even be here still if not for them.

There is still a lingering question - What caused my collapses in the first place, beginning a good 2 years before the Bactrim and this recent stuff? I am beginning to think I'll never know. If it's something that could kill me, it probably will some day. If it's not, then I do hope that it never happens when I'm in a bad spot - like on a ladder, driving down the road, or on the back of a motorcycle. Would that suck or what?

Out of the Fog - BACTRIM

2011-04-02T13:45:00.011-05:00

Since the end of November, all of December, January, February and into March, I've been battling, struggling, inching forward and falling backwards and forth through a "mystery illness".

Right now, I'm angry. I keep telling myself not to be - Anyone who knows me knows how slow to anger I am. Even my kids have told me that I'm "way too forgiving" and "way too accepting" of people. I've always thought, and always told them, that if there is anything that I've learned about people, it's that it is a total waste of time and energy to be "mad" at someone for being themselves.

Whenever I've felt wronged or slighted by another, I always ask myself "am I going to get over it or not?" If the answer is the former, then I do it sooner rather than later. If the answer is the later, then it's relationship over. Life's too short, and I haven't the time or inclination to go around mad all of the time.

Until now. I'm not at all sure that I'm going to get over this anger, but maybe writing it all down will help me and maybe, if you are reading this far, you too.

I finally zeroed in on a reason for most of my recent health issues. Note that I said "I". After being bored out of my skull while I was nursing myself back to some semblence of health, unable to do much physically, I started painting to get my mind off of it. Painted many, many pictures. Then I got bored with that.

Slowly, I began emerging from my mental fog - though my body was still lagging behind it. I became determined to find an answer for what had happened to me. Retracing my symptoms, I thought out loud, "it all really started going downhill when I got that extreme prickly feeling".

Not expecting to stumble upon anything really helpful from such a vague symptom, I still typed it out into the search engine "extreme prickly feeling." Low and behold, there it was, result number 2 - "Bactrim" at a site called "Ask a Patient.com".

I honestly just about fell out of my chair in shock. "YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!" I shouted at my computer screen. As I read through the posts there, I began simmering inside. Why? Because I had repeatedly asked multiple Emergency Room doctors if my troubles could be due to it. I was ASSURED multiple times that this could not be so. I took their word for it, and didn't even bother looking it up, because they all agreed that that wasn't it.

I read through post after post of people who had gone through the same terrifying ordeal that I myself was still trying desparately to emerge from. Most of them had connected their Bactrim use to their symptoms, which I had failed to do - and so, like a "good little patient" TOOK ALL OF MINE - all 10 days worth - even though the "extreme prickly feeling" began on day 3 - BECAUSE:

1. I already had a somewhat severe neck/upper back pain that had been plaguing me for some time. So when the extreme pressure in the back of my head and spine began, I actually thought that it was a sudden worsening of that. Seriously think that my brain was swelling. It honestly felt like it may explode with every drink of water I took, unless I balanced it out immediately with a sip of ultra-salty barely diluted Campbell's soup. It was crazy, and totally counter-intuitive, given the state of my mouth, to be sipping salty stuff - hurt like hell.

2. I had had a bout of grossly bloody diahhria for which the Bactrim plus Flagyl was originally prescribed, and thought that my extraordinary nausea and abdominal issues were probably due to that - even though it had come on after after I'd initially felt better. At the time, I thought maybe that the prickly feeling (feels quite honestly effervescent, like soda pop mixed with a hint of lye under your skin)was due to some sort of bacterial toxins being released or germs dying or something. I didn't know.

3. I had been gradually getting physically weaker over these past 2+ years, including and especially my neck, and when my neck muscles completely relaxed (horrible, horrible thing), again, I thought it must be a sudden worsening of that. Once, I even completely lost the hearing in my left ear during such an episode. Interesting to note, that once I figured out the salt part, I had no more complete muscle shutdowns - Haven't figured that one all of the way out, and don't really intend to. Don't really care at this point, as long as it never happens again. But it did work - somewhat...not for the pressure as much as the muscle give-out, though there was a slight improvement - very slight,yet noticable - in the pressure also. Could be (think I read) that the Trimethaprom part of it blocks the sodium reabsorbtion - but I wouldn't swear to it.

HOWEVER. What lead me to inquire if the antibiotic could be the cause of my feelings of near death was for sure the bizarre state of my mouth, skin coloring and eyelids. Not to mention my apparent inability to maintain my salt/water balance, and the extraordinarily unquenchable thirst. My mouth was in rough shape. You could EASILY SEE that - IF YOU BOTHERED TO LOOK, THAT IS! Which none of them did. They were all convinced that I must be a nutcase.

And that is why I am angry. I'm not even sure if it is because they "didn't know". It's because they didn't take it seriously at all and believe me, it WAS. I really still can't even believe I lived through it. Might not have, if I hadn't taken some steroids that I had in my medicine cabinet, a "dose pack" prescribed some time ago for a wrist issue that had resolved with Naproxen alone so I'd never taken the steroids. I did finally get a local doctor to get me some more, but it wasn't easy. Since they didn't know what was the matter, they didn't initially want to give me any.

The treatment that I received at some of the Emergency Rooms (and I use that term in the most generous terms possible) was beyond shameful. I'm NOT someone who frequents hospitals - I don't even go to the doctor unless I know I can't fix it myself. I will go even less now to be sure. My trust in doctors has been severed probably forever. I realize that they don't know everything. I realize that it isn't even possible for them TO know everything - it just isn't. BUT many of them don't realize that, and I'm sorry, but I find THAT extremely unforgivable right at present. The smug and cocky arrogance of some of them is mainly what I don't know if I can ever "get over". The bad side of healthcare to be sure.

I read with horror how many people have been through similar experiences with both the drug and the doctors. And I am angry. NOT ONE MORE PERSON SHOULD HAVE TO ENDURE THAT. There is no excuse for it. It does not seem to be all that rare or uncommon of a reaction. This is not a new drug. Physicians - especially those in the emergency rooms - need to be made aware. It is beyond frightening, truly. The people on that site and another (briandeer.com, I believe) are not exaggerating - no, not at all.

If you have had such a time with Bactrim or any other drug for that matter, I urge you to report it yourself (if your doctor won't). The FDA's number is 1-800-FDA-1088. Maybe if enough of us complain, they will do something. It took a Congressman rupturing his achilles tendon to get the stronger warning on the fluroquinolones - maybe if a prominent person nearly goes out of their mind or almost dies of it, they'll wake up on Bactrim issues too.

Until then, keep complaining. If you'd like to share your story about this drug, feel free - I'm here to listen if you want or need to talk it over too.

I guess if we are going to talk about "The Good, The Bad & The Ugly" of healthcare, I'll have to call this post "The Bad". For "The Good" - see the next post, coming soon. "The Ugly" - Is also a post I guess I'll have to make too, but honestly, it was very traumatic - there really is not any other way to decribe it. Needs to be said though, so I will eventually do that one too, detailing my experience in as much detail as I can remember, in the hope that it will in the very least make me feel better, and at the very most, perhaps make some of you who have gone through it feel better too. Who knows - maybe I'll start a "Bactrim Support Group" ;) lol

Flux Transfer Events and Velikovsky

2011-01-05T05:43:00.009-06:00

Since "discovering" him, I have been facinated with Immanuel Velikovsky - I was lucky enough to get a first run printing of his "Worlds in Collision" (still reading) and also have a copy of "Earth in Upheaval" that I've not yet read.

But I've managed to skim through numerous online works of his, and I find some of the most intriguing to be the banter backwards and forth between he and Einstein. Two great minds, great thinkers, coming together to bounce ideas around.

Of interest - the link between Saturn, Jupiter and sun spot activity - I haven't yet had time to go into that in-depth, but when I feel up to it I'd like to see what I can find.

But even more interesting, and I've only lately reread some of the Velikovsky/Einstein material - a lightbulb lit up in my foggy little mind - when I read this piece about the flux transfer events that happen roughly every 8 minutes. Scientists were SURE that they did not exist until just recently...
http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2008/30oct_ftes/

Anyway, I recalled reading about something in these Velikovsky/Einstein papers that said something to the effect that the earth should loose its charge in 8 minutes, but was replenished by something unknown:

"A few notes about our last conversation on April 8th, 1955

1. The difference in voltage—100 volts for 1 meter altitude near the ground—indicates that the Earth is charged by 450,000 coulombs, which is very little for the globe of this size. (It is calculated that the Earth must lose its charge in 8 minutes, but some unidentified mechanism replenishes the charge)."

You can read (and I highly recommend it) the rest here:
http://www.varchive.org/bdb/week.htm

On the same archive site - and I did not have time to find it, but if you have a true interest you will find it - Velikovsky also talks about a "magnetized cloud" and the magnetic charges of the particles. Why does this interest me? Because NASA also has discovered such a thing - you can find that as well if so motivated with a simple search. Magentic fluff, they call it. Sounds harmless doesn't it....

(Here - I've looked them up for you: NASA's "Fluff" http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2009/23dec_voyager/ and here is Velikovsky writing back to Einstein regarding magnetic clouds, etc. Scroll down about 2/3 http://www.varchive.org/bdb/study.htm)

Velikovsky got a bum deal back when, egos being what they are, even amongst scientists. But the man has facinated me, and his meticulous manner in which he set about it all is impressive by anyone's standards. He was an extremely intellegent mind, a critical thinker, and unafraid to face even massive opposition to his theories. Many could not stand him because what he had to say, flew in the face of what they themselves thought, had been taught, and in many cases had been teaching. Seems like we have a serious shortage of great thinkers these days...and then too.

I wish that I had a deeper understanding of such things - too busy being a mom when I was younger to pursue them. I keep trying to get one of my kids (now college aged) interested in the sciences - playfully, I say "Aw come on, I've got questions, lot and lots of questions...couldn't you just take a few astro-physics courses?" But so far, no takers. For some reason, they have their own ideas...

So I guess that I will leave it up to the great minds to sort out, and continue to be amazed and dazzled by their findings, even (maybe especially) the ones that are 50+ years old and just now being shown to have had merit all along, though they flew in the face of conventional/accepted knowledge of the time.

Maybe I'm better off being a science hobbyist anyway. It's probably far more thrilling on a day to day basis. I am unincumbered by acadamia's "accepted" ideas, and feel perfectly free to consider absolutely anyone's ideas that I myself deem credible - including Velikovsky - and am unpolluted with their prejudices.

My tame guinea fowl

2011-01-01T21:47:00.010-06:00

I get asked alot how my guineas came to be so people friendly. Actually it all started after doing a lot of research on them, and it seemed that everyone agreed that you needed to handle them a lot when they were little. We may have gone overboard there, just slightly....

It seems like it's monkey see, monkey do...or, guinea see, guinea do? I used to say "Who's a pretty birdie?" and they'd start flying up to perch on my arm. It really just takes one to think of it, and they all want to come up too, as my youngest daughter found out! You let one sit on your lap, and you'd best make room for the whole flock.

Now that they are full-grown, it is NOT practical to have them all "up for a visit", but they still come and sit on me, especially when I'm bending down doing something - whether gardening or coop-tending. They are my loyal friends, and I do believe that I am an honorary flock member!

Lately, my husband has had to take over their daily care, and while he used to not much care for them, I think they have grown on him as well.

But they are friendly, and I easily get them to come in at night so that nothing eats them in the night, by ringing a bell that they associate with their bedtime snack.

That's me in the bottom two pictures, just a regular "Guinea Whisperer", I'll tell ya, and my daughter in the top two pictures. She ended up with a lap full, plus a waiting line.

My New Criteria For Doctor Selection

2011-01-01T10:53:00.012-06:00

"It is not a case we are treating; it is a living, palpitating, alas, too often suffering fellow creature." ~John Brown

After the health care sampling that I've had the past two years, I have learned a lot. I always have tried to learn from other peoples mistakes, and so I share mine with you in the hopes that you can avoid some of what I've gone through.

I, like probably a lot of people, had somewhat of a blind faith in doctors in general, but I'd also never been terribly sick. In hindsight, admittedly probably not a good idea. They are people just like anyone else, and I think it's probably just as important to apply good judgement in selecting a doctor as it is to choose ones best friend - after all, if you get really sick they may become just that!

These are only my own criteria and suggestions, and they are even new to me, pieced together after a quite terrifying yet at the same time, ridiculous recent emergency room experience - honestly, like something off of The Twilight Zone. Never have been too fond of hospitals - I read too many studies about drug-resistant microbes, and honestly hospitals scared the hell out of me before any of this stuff happened. After my recent experience, I may never go near one again if I can arrange outpatient care for whatever ails me.

To get what you want, first you have to know what that is. When it comes to doctors, I DO know what I want at this point. That doesn't mean that every good doctor you come across is going to "pass the test with flying colors", but it's my own rough guide, and if you find it helpful, well good.

The good news I suppose, is that there ARE good ones still out there.

#1 - Do they listen? Do they interrupt alot?
Part of my problem from the start has been that they keep looking for reasons why "I fainted", because the serious issues started when I lost consciousness. Thing is, I didn't "faint". I have always known this. When I was a teenager, I fainted all of the time. Never considered it a medical issue, more of an embarrassment. But I have a lot of experience in how fainting feels, and as a now 44 year old woman, I tell you with 100% confidence that this problem of mine does not include fainting. Shock maybe. But not a simple faint. It's kind of like comparing a toy matchbox truck to a full sized semi. It's a knock-your-socks-off, stop-you-dead-in-your-tracks, type of thing. It's not a subtle event.

So lesson #1 is - if they cut you off after the first sentence, if they try to assign some trivial diagnosis to something that you know is NOT trivial, find someone else. Sooner rather than later. My first mistake was thinking that they'd get over it and look for something else. They didn't.

#2 Do they do any sort of physical exam? Do they look at you?
This is another area where I have been quite shocked. Do you know that during my whole ordeal, I have yet to actually have a physical exam? Outside of the neurologist, no one has even looked at anything other than weight, blood pressure, temperature and the most basic of bloodwork. Not even at the emergency room - and by that time I was actually turning very strange color with a flaming red mouth, tongue and eyelids - yet they didn't even seem to notice. Apparently, this is becoming the norm all over the USA anyway, after doing a bit of research on the matter. It may be difficult to find a physician who even knows how to perform an actual examination soon...scary.

#3 Do they ever say "I don't know"?
This is VERY important. If they don't ever say that, RUN - don't walk. I am somewhat of a science nut. Always have been. I know that they don't know everything, but do they? The good ones do know this. If they think they do know everything, if they make up an answer to pacify you, then you are in real trouble. Personally, I would have felt more comfortable with an "I don't know" than a "you fainted" at the start of all of this. Because I've known from the start that that wasn't it. I was just naive enough to believe that they'd get past it and we'd move on.

Science, and therefore medicine which is based on science, is ever-changing. Things we thought we knew with confidence have a way of changing. There is absolutely no way that any human being, doctor or not, can keep up with the ever-evolving truth. Recreational reading to me encompasses everything from the new New Dehli enzyme that makes bacteria drug resistant to the earth's magnetic shield and solar flares. I just love science - all sorts.

The physics world has been turned upside down over the past few years with all of the new discoveries they've made. Things we thought we "knew" have been proven to be false, and we don't even know what we don't know. We are but infants when it comes to understanding the heavens above. This is true in the field of medicine too. Happens all of the time. Such is the nature of science. It's only true until the next new evidence comes along. Applying it to medicine - you need only look at the list of drugs pulled off of the market in any given year to realize this - though that's another whole "kettle of fish" because of the money involved. Look at how often the "healthy recommendations" change - "do this, it's good for you - no wait, never mind - actually it may cause cancer". It's only accepted until the next new evidence comes along, it's ever-changing.

Idiopathic is a word that they like to use - it means that they don't know why. What it DOESN'T mean however, is that there isn't a reason - just that they don't know yet. There are actually a lot of rather serious problems/diseases that are "idiopathic" and a whole host of minor problems that are. A lot of disorders for which there is not a treatment are "idiopathic" - that's why there's no treatment. But that's why I like science so much. There is a reason for EVERYTHING. Science is finding out what it is, and as much as we know or think we know these days, it still has remained ever-changing - and indeed, tends to change even more rapidly these days with technology being what it is.

Doctors are not scientists - medicine is not science in and of itself, but it is based on science and so our understanding of it too changes sometimes rapidly. Again, my longwinded point that I'm trying to make here is - It is okay, and even desirable for them to say "I don't know".

#4 Is their waiting room mostly empty on most visits?
Mainly for primary care, as by very definition they should be the busiest. Get there early enough to observe. Is it like one of those revolving doors around there? Do people go in, only to come back out minutes later? If there are 5 or 6 doctors in that office, and there are 2 people in the waiting room (one being you), yet 30 people come in & out in 30 minutes, what does that tell you. If you are there for strep throat or a sinus infection or something like that, then you are probably in good enough hands. If you have a problem that requires more consideration, then you may want to rethink things.

#5 Are they interested in what they are doing?
Do you get the feeling that they have their stockbroker holding on line one and their travel agent on line two? Do they wander off in the middle of your visit? Are they otherwise occupied? Are they paying attention? This may sound basic, but there are some seriously distracted doctors out there. If you get the distinct feeling that they became a doctor because they wanted to make a lot of money or wanted an ego boost, I'd go elsewhere if I were you. It's not a job I would want. I truly would not have the patience - but I know that, and if they went through all it takes to be a doctor then you would think that they would have realized it at some point too if in fact dealing with sick people isn't their cup o' tea.

#6 Do they misplace things a lot, and do the people in their office seem competent?
Good help is hard to find. We all know that. Human error is what it is. Everyone makes mistakes. One or two is one thing, a long history of it is another. My file has been misplaced more than once at my former doctors', they've made me a new folder on at least one occassion, been unable to find test results sent by another doctor multiple times, and on one occassion left some other ladies file in the room with me. Which made me wonder if they thought I was her - if they even knew my name or not. I don't know what her medical condition is/was - I didn't look (privacy violation, another issue) but it did make me seriously wonder.

#7 Do they address your concerns? Do they give you credit for knowing your own body?
It may seem like a basic concept, but doctors know bodies in a general sort of way, however there is no better expert on your own particular body than you. Don't let them treat you like you must be a blithering idiot. I may not be a doctor, but I have a perfectly healthy IQ of 136 when tested years ago - certainly smart enough to recognise when something is amiss with my own body.

Another thing - lab tests. Lab tests generally give a "range" of normal - they compare your results to everyone else's. That's all well and good, however, it would seem to me that comparing your own past results to present ones would be a better indication of what exactly is going on with your particular body. What is normal for you may vary. Get copies of your labwork. Keep them in a binder and take them to any specialists that you may go to. I know for a fact that you can feel pretty darn lousy and still have blood work "within normal range", even though they may show a trend if you compare yourself to yourself and not the population at large. Hopefully, you won't have to wait for an organ to be malfunctioning to the point of derangement before a clue is recognised. If you spot a pattern, bring it to their attention. They don't always have time to flip through it all. Ask what it could mean.

Lastly, I will tell you about a service that I didn't know existed until a short time ago. You actually can order your own lab tests. You go to the same labs that the doctors use and prepay for them online. Problem is knowing which ones to order and it IS EXPENSIVE because your insurance won't pay for it. Then there's the problem of what to do if you actually DO find the problem. What do you do then? Go to the doctor and say "here you go - I found it!" Yeah, that'd probably go over really well. I'm beginning to consider it, as I've spent who knows how much now chasing the fainting thing. It'd probably cost me $500 to $1000 though, completely out-of-pocket, and I'm not sure if I would order the right ones either because I am not a doctor and there are so many subtle variations of a lot of them. So it's a toss-up, a gamble. Still, if there are tests that you personally want done and no one is doing them, it is an option and it's my personal feeling that you have every right to have your ideas/concerns addressed and to have things ruled in or out based not only on your doctors opinions but also on your own.

Like I've already said, the good news is that there ARE still good ones out there. There ARE wonderful, caring healthcare people out there. Some of the ones that I've run into are probably seriously suffering from burnout of one sort or another, because they obviously have a huge number of patients. I think it is probably a huge problem, and I don't even pretend to know the answer to it. They say that we are headed for a severe shortage of primary care doctors - maybe we are already there, I don't know. I don't know what to do anymore really...I am sick and tired, literally. But I do know that at this point I cannot possibly just "wait and see" so I guess I'll have to muster up some faith in somebody to figure it out.

Electromagnetic Pulse

2010-12-31T23:31:00.007-06:00

Okay, I guess I'd have to admit that this post is a bit off-topic for this particular blog - But I think that it is actually a very important thing, and that too many people are too unaware of it.

Of all of the threats to our "civilized" world - and there are actually a lot more of them than most people are comfortable thinking about - most of them we can actually do very little about. So I suppose it's all well and good if you are more comfortable not thinking about them. Personally, it doesn't bother me, and I have an inquiring mind.

An electromagnetic pulse, or EMP can come from either natural (solar) or manmade (weapons) sources, and could have devastating effects on our modern society. While there is little that we can do to actually prevent such a thing from happening, especially from the sun, there are things that could be done to make such a happening more recoverable. Like hardening our power grid. There has been much happening and there has been some legislation passed - however, they stripped the most important parts from the final version.

On an encouraging note, Bergen County New Jersey has just recently passed a resolution to help press our lawmakers to do something about this...Good for them! http://www.empactamerica.org/Bergen_County-resolution.pdf

I've been following it for some time now, and I do urge you to do the same. You can learn more, including how to contact your representatives regarding this matter at http://www.empactamerica.org/.

Where have I been? Sick, I'm Afraid

2010-12-31T09:15:00.011-06:00

And at this point, I truly mean it. I am afraid. Living the good life in the country is not quite the same when you are sick.

The gardens are a shambles, my flowers that were the envy of all who stopped by are now a weedy mess, and my husband has had to take over the care of my beloved guineas. He's actually been a lot better about that than I thought he would be too, only teasingly complaining about it. The trees that I once could plant several hundred of in one weekend, this year took me nearly 4 months. Black walnut collection has been out of the question for the past 2 falls, as navigating the steep woody trail that I used to skillfully manuever - even in pouring rain and slick mud while balancing the groceries - has become a nearly impossible feat even empty handed.

I'm very sick at the present, but it's been a sneaky, gradual decline over about a 2 year period - one that I tried my best to deny and ignore in the beginning. When I could do that no more, I began going to the doctors and they did it for me (deny & ignore).

I hadn't realized exactly what healthcare had become, because I hadn't ever really been sick. All of my life I've been pretty lucky. When I was young, I used to get annoyed at the long wait that always laid ahead if I had to go to the family doctor. I once sat in his waiting room for over 4 hours past my appointment time when I had strep throat. Doc liked people. He liked to talk too. Sure, you had to wait but it was worth it. When it was finally your turn, he'd give you his undivided attention. Whatever ailed you, you could rest easy knowing he'd get to the bottom of it. If he didn't know, he'd say he didn't know, but he'd think of something - even if it meant sending you to another doctor. Ahhh....the good old days.

Now? The "waiting" rooms are nearly empty. Why? Because it's like a fast food drive-through in there. I do still have to wait, but it's because I have a long drive in from the country and I get there early. Early enough to see how quickly they go in, and then come back out. If someone's back there for over 5 minutes, it's rare. I had noticed that I could get in & out of the doctors quickly a few years back - and I also confess that I liked that too. When I had a sinus infection or some other mildly annoying problem, I'd be in & out in a heartbeat. No more 4 hour waits.

Yes, it was great. Until I got really sick. Then the 5 minute visit seemed like an insulting shove-off - and in truth that's what it is/was. They don't even look at you most of the time. It's great, fine, swell - until you get really sick. Then you'd give just about anything for that old family doctor, who kept you waiting but never let you down, who really and genuinely cared how you were feeling today, and would do what he could to get you better and back on your feet.

I don't know who's responsible for this decline in diagnostic ability. Probably we all are. We don't like to wait. Life is faster paced than it used to be, and getting faster all the time. Doctors have probably thousands of patients. Insurance companies are what they are. And everyone is in a hurry.

There also is a fair amount of what can only be described as egomaniacal narcissism in the medical field too - again, I'd never noticed that before either. After some recent Emergency Room fiascos, it seems to be a 50/50 mix there. I found them to be somewhat unbelievable, unprofessional, and I truly have little to no faith in their ability to care for me at all. (To be fair, they aren't ALL like that, but honestly about half - mostly the younger ones. I actually looked up how long one of them had been a doctor because I found his behavior very strange - got his license last year, 2009...heavy sigh) The old "if I don't know what you've got, then you MUST be either fine or crazy" attitude. HONESTLY???? Do they actually think that we have no better use for our time and money than to hand it to them without result? I don't know about you, but I have a LOT of other things I'd rather be doing and spending my money on, as you can see by my posts before I got sick. I truly wonder, after all of this, how many billions of healthcare dollars could be saved if they would just stop and listen at the get-go. I know that I could have not only saved a lot of money, but a lot of time and effort if #1 the first one wouldn't have pigheadedly decided that I fainted and #2 if the ones after him would have considered otherwise, but that does not seem to be how this "system" of ours works.

But it is an impossible catch-22 scenario, when no one has figured out what's wrong with you and you have an acute attack of an unknown disorder. No one wants to help you. I honestly can't believe that I lived through this last experience of mine under only my own care. I'm a tough ol' girl I guess...tougher than I ever knew I was.

I have recently changed my primary care doctor, after some 15 or 20 years. My new doc is a small town doctor, and more like the doctors of yesterday. He doesn't mind squeezing that too-sick-to-wait patient in, and his office staff seem like family. He's got a goofy sense of humor, and even when you're feeling your worst, he can manage to make you laugh. I can't imagine why, but his waiting room gets full sometimes. (I'm kidding here, I KNOW why!) He puts real and true honest thought into what ails you. I know that not every ailment can be diagnosed instantly - believe me, I know. But it does help I think when you have more than 30 seconds to state your problem, especially when you are really, really sick.

I also have been quite lucky to get a wonderful neurologist. I don't know if my main problem is a neurological one, or if the neurological problems that I encounter are just a result of some sort of underlying metabolic or absorbtion problem or whatever - seems to only crop up when things get really bad - but I do feel like I'm in good hands there. He's smart - you can almost see the wheels turning in there - and I do think that he really does care about his patients, and that really is all you can ask of anyone I think, especially when it all comes & goes on any given day, week or month. I also think that I am extremely fortunate that he checked my B12 level - it has made a huge difference in some of my stranger symptoms, like the bizarre state of my tongue, and my upper back pain, though the neck is still iffy. His waiting room sometimes gets full too, because he takes the time that it takes. Sometimes, he runs late. But when it's your turn, it's your turn.

At any rate, for those of you who have suffered with life-long health issues - my heart sincerely goes out to you. I always have realized how incredibly lucky I've been up until now, and whatever the outcome, I have had over 40 years of good health which is more than a lot of people could ever even hope for. For those of you who have been searching in vain for a diagnosis for years and years - I don't know how you do it. It's exhausting. I hope I can keep chasing after it before it does me in :( - and no, I'm not kidding, wish I was.

April Doggy

2008-01-20T01:10:00.001-06:00

The first Spring that we lived at "the backwards house", a mangy mut - mostly Brittany Spaniel - wandered shyly up the driveway. She most obviously had an injured leg, and again, most obviously had been uncerimoniously dumped out here, due to the fact that she'd sit faithfully in the middle of the road when she wasn't bugging us. We believe that she was likely dumped out of a moving vehicle, hence the leg injury. Probably, the proverbial "dog that won't hunt."

Let me tell you first, that I am in no way, shape or form, a dog person or lover. I am a devout cat person. I did not want a dog. AT ALL. Not even a little bit. Still....you could hardly ignore her....

We aren't keeping her. We said it 1,000 times if we'd said it once. NO DOG. Of course the kids never missed a chance to pet her. And who could help giving a bowl of water and food to a starving animal? And well, those ticks that were completely covering her had to go, so maybe a flea bath....OK - You get the idea - next thing you know, we had ourselves a DOG.

So April - (she was named because it was the month that she made her appearance) became a tenative member of the family. Tenative, because at every turn that mutt was into something! My husband was out mowing on the riding mower one day, having left the lower garage door open (goes into the basement, where the laundry room is). While he was mowing, I looked out to see a quite angry, hostile look on his face, his hands full of something white. I went out to see what the upset was, and was greeted with an angry man with a handful of dirty underwear on a riding mower....Yes April was lucky to still have a home that day.

A few days later, April triumphantly runs across the field clutching something proudly in her mouth. I thought not a lot of it - figuring that she'd had a successful hunt. UNTIL the neighbors called, inquiring about the sunglasses that went on one of their lawn statues....Yes April was lucky to still have a home that day.

My husband has a washable air filter for his truck, that he takes out to wash, then lays to dry down in his shed. He uses a cheaper, disposable type while the other one drys. That is unless he leaves the shed door open, and a curious little dog wanders in and drags the expensive one out for a good chew! April was REALLY lucky to still have a home THAT day!!

But for all of her misadventures, luckily for her - she had wormed her way into our hearts. The bird dog that wouldn't hurt a living thing, and still heads for the hills whenever a stranger comes along or especially whenever she hears gunfire.

She's truly found her calling though, as a "bird dog" no less. Since getting the guinea fowl, she has been a most excellent "Bird Dog"! She wouldn't let anything get her birdies! They are the best of friends - and we are very lucky to have her keeping watch over them!

Daydreaming About Next Year's Flowers....

2007-11-01T00:03:00.000-05:00

With the morning chill now appearing regularly, I find myself now resigned to daydreaming (my husband would say "plotting and scheming") about what I'll plant next spring...

When we moved here, there was quit a brambled mess along the road front of our property. Someone said something about a previous owner trying to contain ducks on the property, and so they wanted it that way. I don't know if it was thick enough for duck control when they lived here, but by the time we arrived, I think it may have been suitable for elephant containment.

At any rate, my husband ripped and pulled and dug and yanked - both by brute force and with the truck and I think even burned some of it. Finally he had it all cleaned out.

At my old house, I had one lone "Robin Hood Rose Hedge" plant, which I absolutely adored. It always had hundreds of blooms on it, was probably 5 to 6 feet tall and as wide. So beautiful - it bloomed all summer long, right up to the first hard freeze. Making it even more appealing was the fact that it seemed largely unbothered by any pests or typical rose diseases, and seldom needed any pruning.

So with the newly cleared road front, I thought it would be great to plant a row of Robin Hood Rose Hedge plants in order to create a more orderly road front screen. I ordered a goodly number of them and set about planting them down at the foot of the hill along the road this past spring. All got the Watersorb so that watering wouldn't be a worry, and they've done splendidly. Already this year my young plants had profuse blooms. The only problem I ran into was that I grossly underestimated the number of them that I would need.

So tops on my wish list for next year are about 100 more Robin Hood Roses....

But then, with the tree ordering season coming up in 2 weeks (Nov. 15th through the Missouri Department of Conservation - see prior post) I know that I will also be wanting/needing several hundred more trees for my other "little project."

My "little project" is turning our hilly field into more woodland. Oh I realise that I may be a little old lady by the time my seedlings grow up into a forest, but all the better. By that time I will probably be wholly uninterested in mowing or maintaining a field. Besides that, I am planting mostly hardwood trees which have value in their own right as timber - like money in the bank, my dad always says.

My father is a tree fanatic. So much so that he purchased his own little slice of tree paradise way back when in the Missouri Ozarks, around 120 acres I think. He really is quite amazing in his tree knowledge. No matter the season, he can tell you what nearly any tree out there is by the bark, the growth habit, leaf, etc. Many times I wish I'd paid more attention, though I've retained more of his teaching than I ever realised before moving out here. During my childhood, I must have planted thousands of those seedlings he ordered from the conservation department, and hated every single second of it, ironically.

He had visions of having pine trees in his forest of mostly oak and hickory trees. So we'd make the trip down there every week and my older sister would be in charge of trying to eek out a hole big enough to plant one of the seedlings in out of the rocky Ozark soil. Since I was younger, it was my job to carry the trees and lug around watering jugs to get them "off to a good start." In hindsight, I think I had the bum end of that deal, but it would have done little good to complain. We were certain that he was crazy...who plants trees in a forest, we grumbled as we trudged along.

Some of those pine trees actually attained a good size - and just as soon as they did, the natives cut them down for Christmas trees! After all of those years and all of those trees we planted, I think there are only a few still surviving - the ones well away from the road mostly!

I guess the old nut really doesn't fall too far from the tree, so to speak. Now it is my children who trudge along helping me plant my trees. I don't make them carry the water jugs, as I did, since I use the water crystals - but every now and then I swear I hear a muffled "who plants trees in the middle of a field." They don't know how good they've got it!

Oh Happy, Happy Day!

2007-10-28T10:31:00.000-05:00

Picking up where we left off on the Spring Thaw/Driveway.....

My husband, upon his return (mother-in-law doing much better!), decided he had to try to scrape off some of the sludge as even he was having a hard time getting up the hill in his off-road truck. So he was out carefully (so he wouldn't get the tractor stuck) scraping around the top of the hill.

The phone rang almost immediately - it was our neighbor, asking me what he was doing out there. I told him, and he told me to get him off the tractor right away - he runs and owns heavy earth moving equipment - bulldozers and the like, the really big kind. He said he just couldn't stand to see him out there in that sludge. I told him I'd try, but he's kind of hard-headed that way! After promising I'd do my best to get him to come in, and have him call the neighbor back, I went out to try to get him in.

Well, to make a long story shorter, he called our neighbor back and agreed to come in off the tractor. The wonderful neighbors promised to run the bull dozer down it to fix it up right once the spring thaw was through and it dried out some!

A while later, as it took some time for all of that to dry up and the rains to stop, the neighbor did indeed come. I can't tell you what a lifesaver this was, as he even busted out part of the limestone on that narrow hairpin curve, making it wider, with more wiggle room for slick winter time driving. It was so narrow through that curve, with limestone on both sides of it, that if you slid at all you ran a good chance of hitting the rocks. The tractor, even with its size, just didn't have the juice to do that.

I guess I've always been somewhat of a simple person - it doesn't really take too much to amuse me - but I'll tell you - I think the happiest day of my life was the day the gravel trucks showed up! I actually thought I was going to cry...

The Gardner In Me

2007-10-24T23:13:00.000-05:00

As far back as I can remember, I have had an insatiable need to plant things. My mother, bless her heart, indulged this need of mine - most of the time without complaint even though we lived in a suburban neighborhood. It was before the times of home owners associations and was well before the neighbors felt it was their duty to restrain their neighbors from pursuing pretty much whatever made them happy.....ah the good old days!

Fondly I remember clutching my seed packets, as I trudged around the yard looking for the perfect spot as described on the package. I'd tuck in some corn in a far corner of my parents yard, some peppers here and there, and tend to my mother's tomato plants. The only time she really put up a fuss was the year I planted pumpkin seeds directly under the family room window where her chair sat. My little 6 year old mind just could not grasp the size those vines would attain - and I had no knowledge what-so-ever of the gnat infestation that would be coming through the screen to pester her in her relaxing moments. I remember how devastated I was when she finally couldn't take it any longer, and went out and ripped up my lovely pumpkin patch - which by then had taken over half the yard! Then when I learned that you had to have LOTS of corn in order for it to properly pollinate, she put the brakes on again when I was making plans to take over half of the yard for my corn crop.

I can't really say that I blame her today....but it's taken me years to get over the trauma. All kidding aside, though, I did have somewhat of a green thumb for one so young. She often used to look at me with eyes squinted and declare that she thought I was going to grow up to be a farmer.

At any rate, I could scarcely wait to get busy planting all of the things I'd always been forbidden to plant - whether by my mother or some do-good association. And before you say it, yes I always did abide by the rules of the association - I know, I didn't have to move there and so I did comply (but I didn't like it!).

So never mind that it took me half of my natural lifetime to get here - I'd finally arrived and was preparing to plant - at the top of the list were, of course corn and pumpkins! The only thing that stood between me and the garden of my dreams was a whole lot of back-breaking work. We had a tractor alrighty, that could have made shorter work of it I suppose, had it been in one piece at that particular time (see Can of Worms #2 for the tractor story).

That wasn't just about to stop me though, so I got to work digging by hand, armed with nothing but a shovel and my own grit and determination and some willing and some not-so-willing child labor. I dug and I pulled and I ripped the sod from the yard, here and there, and to hear some say - everywhere....until I had 6 smaller gardens and 1 larger one (for the corn). I guess it's a throw-back to my childhood, when I had to tuck my crops in amongst the other plantings, but to this day it's how I prefer it - though it's certainly not the norm around here I would later learn. Most people have one large garden.

In one of the smaller plots, roughly 12 feet x 12 feet or so, I planted the tomatoes and peppers. One of the sizable plots, probably 16 x 20, I put the pumpkins in. Zucchini and summer squash went in another, green beans of various types in another, corn of course in the largest, cucumbers in another, and watermelon and cantaloupe in the last two.

I do believe every single visitor that we had - mostly long time country folk and a few genuine farmers - made comment on how they liked all of my little gardens. I believe I am the only one around here who does it this way, but my reasoning behind it is twofold. Number one, as previously mentioned, it's what I'm used to. Number two, is that I really believe it keeps pests under control better and the number of "mutant" or cross-pollinated veggies to a minimum. Anyone who's ever had a squash-cumber knows what I mean by that - half squash and half cucumber and not quite edible.

Anyway, my husband - who grew up on an 800 acre farm, and for whom gardening wasn't at all taken lightly - always teases me about my "baby gardens", since their garden encompassed several acres when he was growing up. But to me at least, they are a pleasure, a joy, a source of delicious produce - not to mention pride at serving my family the best that I can manage to grow. My mother was right perhaps, maybe I should have been a farmer.

From the Missouri Department of Conservation (see prior post for ordering info) I had ordered 20 some odd blackberry plants, against the protests of some who say they would get out-of-control....ISN'T THAT WHY I'M HERE??? To them I say that I have waited fully what could be expected to be half of my natural life, and if I'm willing to risk out-of-control blackberries, well they'll just have to find a way to cope! And to date, they show no signs of growing out of control.

I also added 4 apple trees, one of which I have had to replace already due to a Bambi incident (the tractor), 5 peach trees, and 3 plum trees. Also scattered about are a couple of apricots and cherry trees, though they seem to not be as thriving as the other fruits.

All summer I have been stocking the freezer with green peppers, summer squash, a frozen cucumber relish recipe that I found, green beans and corn. The cucumbers and squash were so plentiful that at one point I considered slipping them into people's mailboxes in the night. I gave plenty away to anyone who wanted some once I had the freezer filled and I began meeting with protests from my family at being served squash again. The cantaloupe and watermelon were especially enjoyed on a daily basis, and I miss the sweet goodness of the fresh picked cantaloupe gracing our dinner table now that the season has passed.

My husband, who told me that he loved cucumbers - even began to balk when I mentioned that he was getting behind as the cucumbers piled up - though he was eating them everyday in his lunch and dinner also. He matter of factly told me in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to eat them for breakfast too.

I must give credit where credit is due - the guineas did an awesome job of keeping my gardens pest-free and without pesticide use. As the gardens turn to their winter rest, the guineas will further contribute to next year's garden as the waste from the coop is now being scattered on the unused gardens to be the most excellent fertilizer (I'm told) for next spring. I can hardly wait until they begin providing eggs as well, sometime next spring!

The gardens are indeed one of the very best parts of living in the country for me, at least. Driveway troubles aside, it was a very good summer.

The Spring Thaw

2007-10-21T23:53:00.000-05:00

I can't tell you how much I'd been looking forward to the Spring thaw. The gardener in me starts wishfully browsing the seed catalogs as they start arriving en mass in the still too cold to plant winter months. It's one of the best parts of living out in the country as far as I'm concerned. There's just something wholly satisfying to me to plant, grow and eat my own fruits and vegetables. Truth be told, I was just a little irritated at the prior residents for not having had the forethought to plant some fruit trees, or till up a garden. On the bright side of that though, it meant that I got to plan it all from scratch and put it just where I wanted it.

But then, there's always a downside - even to something like the Spring thaw -
Nothing in my suburban upbringing could have possibly prepared me for what the driveway was about to turn into....

What follows is my darkest hour (which happened to last several weeks) since moving to the country. I suppose I can manage to possibly laugh about it now, maybe - but it was most certainly not at all funny at the time.

As previously told, the driveway was down to bare dirt, which during the hard frozen winter is not a terribly big deal. However, the ground is actually frozen a ways down, and that frost has to come out of the ground, or so I'm told. This happens in addition to any spring rains that happen to also be falling.

So with the arrival of Spring, the driveway became something that you'd normally only see on one of those "monster truck" shows, except it's also a big curvy hill. This was far worse than any ordinary mud I'd ever seen in my entire lifetime. It was at least knee deep and slicker than snot, being good ol' Missouri clay. You couldn't even walk up or down it. The kids first tried tying plastic grocery bags on their feet to get to the bus stop at the bottom without muddying up the bus, but that quickly became impractical, as the mud was higher than that. So, they walked across the field to the neighbors' driveway and down that way.

I casually mentioned one day that we'd probably have the wettest Spring anyone remembers since the driveway was all torn up - I later wondered if I'd wished it upon myself by saying that. We'd had several big rains, 2, 3 and 4 inches at a time - once we got 10 inches in a 24 hour period. My husband had to work out-of-town for a week, and so I was truly stranded. My one consolation was that at least I didn't have to worry about burglars. I'd certainly be tipped off by their spinning tires, as even my husbands off-road truck was a trick to get up and down that hill. I prayed that no one would need an ambulance....

As soon as the driveway dried out just enough for me to slide down it in my car, the neighbors took pity on me and insisted that I leave it at their house so that I'd be able to get out and around to go to the store and what-not. I really hated to impose on them - they truly are the world's best neighbors - but I gratefully accepted their offer. I'd no more than parked it over there, when the rains began again - what seemed like non-stop for weeks.

Not even thinking that anyone in their right mind would attempt that hill just by taking one look at it (it LOOKED scary), I was shocked one day when I heard a car pull into the driveway by the house. Wondering what brave soul had managed to claw their way up, imagine my surprise when I find this well dressed middle aged lady at my door - I kid you not, she was Jehovah's Witness! I really felt bad telling her that I already had a church after all she'd probably been through getting up here.

A few days later, I heard another vehicle out there and a knock. Upon going to the door, there stood the Fed Ex man, lips tightly pursed (I imagine to keep from saying what he was probably thinking) - his truck looked like it'd been through WWIII, with mud sliding down it from all sides, running down the windshield and I kid you not - dripping from the roof. I would've liked to crawl under a table or something, I felt so bad.

It became clear that I needed to do something to stop anyone from trying to get up the driveway, especially since the rains just wouldn't let up. So, every morning in the rain, I walked across an acre or so of yard to get to the neighbors field, across their field and yard to their driveway to get my car, then I drove my car over and parked it just inside our driveway to keep anyone else from entering. Then I had to cross the creek on the rocks to get to the path through the woods. The path is also quite muddy and slick, and steep uphill, but it was far, far better than the driveway. By that time, I was usually quite cold and wet, not to mention muddy. Everywhere I went, I pretty much looked like a drowned rat - even with an umbrella I was soaked by the time I got to my car. Grocery shopping had to wait until my husband got home with the truck. If I could have run away from home, I might have just done it right about then - but I'd have had to go through too much to pack my stuff down the hill and across the creek - so I stayed!

To add insult to injury, my drivers side car door handle broke off (and of course they had to order one as I have an oddball car), so for added fun I had to climb across through the passenger side door and across the center console to get into my car.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse - it did. My mother-in-law ended up quite ill and in the hospital, and so my husband had to leave for a while. I couldn't go with him due to the kids and school, so it was just me and the kids. Grocery shopping now became my worst nightmare. The rains continued - in fact it was during this time that we got the 10 inch rain. The creek was out of its banks more often than not, and trying to get across the rain-swollen creek with groceries in the rain and up the steep woods trail, then back down to get more grocery bags, then back across the creek and back up the trail sometimes 3 or 4 trips slip-sliding all the way.

It was during one of these trips up the hill after doing the family shopping, that I noticed cars stopped on the road below me. I turned to see what they were looking at - it was me - they were looking at me....carrying my jumbo 24 roll pack of toilet paper up the steep, rocky, muddy trail. Oddly, that seemed to break some of the tension that had been building in me, and for the first time I looked at it from their viewpoint. I could almost hear them in my mind - "what is it that woman's got....it looks like a jumbo toilet paper! - wonder what she's doin' out there in the woods with it?!" It's not something you see everyday, so I suppose I don't blame them for stopping - I laughed so hard all the rest of the way up the hill, and indeed, I think I was nearly hysterical at that point and laughed for a good part of the afternoon.

The Ice Storm

2007-10-18T12:22:00.000-05:00

To the kids' delight, we had a major ice storm this past winter, turning the driveway into a glare of thick ice. Once again, I was totally cut-off from any hope of navigating down the twisting driveway, but went out to look all the same.

Instantly, I had a flashback to my youth and promptly asked my youngest daughter "Wow, what fun - why aren't you guys out here on the sleds?" She got a wide-eyed look on her face and ran off to retrieve my old sled from the shed.

I still have both mine and my sister's old sleds - the wooden variety with the metal runners. They provided countless hours of fun for us as children. I was always the last kid standing when it came to sledding, way after the others went in to their hot cocoa, I'd still be out there. Finally, when I was sure that frostbite was setting in and I couldn't feel my fingers and toes, I'd reluctantly call it a day.

Anyway, she returned a few moments later dragging my old sled with her. She had barely sat down on it when she disappeared like a speeding bullet around the hairpin curve, letting out quite a holler all the way down the hill. I nervously baby-stepped my way along the ice to make sure she stopped before she got to the road.

She had managed to turn off into a tall grassy area, and had managed to avoid hitting any trees, so all was well as she yelled back up to me "Whoa, that was FUN!" As she tried to figure a way back UP the hill, I went in to tell her teen siblings of the fun they were missing out on.

My teenage son came out immediately - mention speed and he's there. In a split second, he had my sister's larger sled and in another second, he too had disappeared down the driveway also letting out a whoop and holler.

I couldn't believe how fast they were going, and what fun! I decided my 40+ year old body was spry enough to make a go of it, so upon my young daughters 3rd or 4th return up the hill, I told her it was mom's turn....

In an earlier time, I'd have had a blast with this, but fear has somehow crept into my conscience as I've grown older and wiser. I took off down that hill so fast that I totally forgot how to steer that sled that I practically lived on in the winters of my youth. I do believe that I may have even closed my eyes at one point - until I hit the tree. I sat there for a few minutes, assessing whether I broke anything - ankle was quite sore, sled was none the worse for it though, so I limped along the grassy side of the driveway and handed it back over to my daughter. The ankle wasn't broken, just a little twist. So I stayed and jealously watched my children having the time of their lives whizzing down the hill at speeds I'd only just begun to appreciate.

You'd have thought that I would have learned my lesson from hitting the tree the first time, but not me - I just didn't know what to expect the first time, I rationalized to myself. This time I'll know! So, I once again proclaimed it "my turn" and off I went - I swear even faster than the first time - and promptly crashed into the rocky bank, this time twisting my whole leg behind me. Again, I sat there assessing the damage, and imagined how sore I was going to be the next day. While I puzzled over how in the world I could have totally forgotten how to steer the sled, I watched my daughter skillfully navigate the hill.

Then I got my bright idea - since she was so good at steering, I could ride down the hill with her! Of course she was all for it, so we got the bigger sled from my son, got all positioned, and were just ready to go when my son gave us a big push! I don't know if it was her being nervous with mom as her passenger, or whether the push startled her, but she promptly forgot how to steer and we crashed full tilt into the rocky bank, just around the curve. The impact caused me, as the rear passenger, to eject off the back of the sled and my rear end came to rest upon a large limestone rock. Such a shock of pain went through my entire body that I was rendered totally speechless for some number of minutes, and I dared not move, lest I throw up. My daughter was unhurt, and was busy chewing out her brother - of course blaming it all on him and his push. In my fog of pain, I heard her yelling, and after scolding him for what he could have done to the sled, she finished her tyraid with "and just look what you've done to MOM!"

That seemingly snapped me out of my daze, and I firmly denied that it was either of their faults - I knew better. The blame laid nowhere but with me. Still sitting on the rock that I'd landed on, and with the cold sweat starting to subside, I puzzled over how I was going to get up, let alone make it back up the icy driveway. I didn't have to wonder - I knew that I'd broken something.

I gingerly stumbled my way up the driveway, clutching at exposed tree roots as if my life depended on it, and somehow made it back to the house. I knew then that it was my tailbone that was crunched.

I lived in extreme fear of slipping on the ice and falling on my broken tail end for the remaining icy days...myself now understanding perfectly the care taken by older folks on the ice, as I baby stepped along anytime I had to go out there.

I guess I should have paid attention to the first two warning crashes, but the third one got it through my head alright - my sledding days are over, and just so I don't forget it again, I have the 2 months of pain and agony to remind me!

Guinea Fowl Keets!

2007-10-16T12:09:00.000-05:00

This summer I finally realized another of my "country life" goals, when the guinea fowl keets arrived! I had long wanted some after seeing a flock of them on a roadtrip several years back.

After studying up on them a bit, I found that they are also well known for their tick eating capabilities, as well as grasshoppers and a number of other garden pests. Everything that I read also seemed to agree that they were sturdy, generally healthy fowl as well - a plus since I was new to poultry raising. I decided that they stood a fair chance of surviving me, but went ahead and ordered 30 of them, thinking I'd probably lose a few.

Against the protests of my husband, who calls them a name I shall not repeat here, I ordered my day-old keets from The Cackle Hatchery, which is located here in Missouri. (http://www.cacklehatchery.com/) They sent a couple of extra keets, and we received a total of 32 lively little birds on June 20th.

They are so incredibly tiny at a day old, smaller than baby chicks. You have to use a higher protein feed for them, as in a turkey and game bird starter, and place rocks or marbles in their waterer or use a game bird waterer base so that they won't drown.

They are somewhat fussy about temperature, dampness, and drafts those first few weeks, though with our June weather we had little trouble keeping the temperature nicely toasty for them. The girls and I hovered over the tiny keets nearly constantly, running out to check the temperature, changing out the paper toweling what seemed like 100 times a day.

By the time they were 12 days old, they were flying out of the brooder box I had fashioned for them out of cardboard boxes, so it was time to move them out to their new coop!

The picture above shows them at 18 days. Ours are somewhat tame for guineas, due to the fact that they were handled almost constantly when they were small. Even now, if you sit down they will come and want to sit on your lap - or shoulder, or head!

If you are new to guinea fowl, want to learn more or have questions, I can most highly recommend the message board at http://www.guineas.com/ - wonderful, helpful people there!

Tree Seedlings for Missouri Residents

2007-10-14T01:27:00.000-05:00

It's almost that time of year again, when the Missouri Conservation Department starts taking orders for tree seedlings for next Spring (2008).

The on-line ordering begins I believe on November 15, 2007 and can be found here at that time:

http://mdc.mo.gov/forest/nursery/seedling/

The prices are unbeatable, and the selection is good. Order early for the best selection, as some do sell out quickly. They are not to be re-sold and are to be planted in Missouri. Other information is available on the above site.

For those who are not in Missouri, be sure to check with your state conservation department - they may offer a similar program.

I've been thrilled with my tree purchases from them, and often order several hundred of various types. I'm working on getting some pine trees growing to provide some screening during the winter months when the woods is so bare.

One tip that I will share when planting seedlings too far away to keep watered, is to place a handful of Watersorb into the planting hole with the tree. It absorbs many times its weight in water and keeps them from drying out during the hot, dry summer months. You can find it online inexpensively at http://www.watersorb.com/ - a small amount goes a long way! It's the gel type stuff that is often found on mail order bare-root plants. You only need about a tablespoon full to make a large coffee can full, which is enough to plant a number of small seedlings. It has made a huge difference in the survival rates of the seedlings that I've planted in the outlying areas and fruit trees as well. I'll not plant without it again!

The Tractor - Can of Worms #2

2007-10-13T23:57:00.000-05:00

With the driveway rapidly melting away down the hill, it was obvious that something needed to be done - soon! My husband assured me that he could fix this, but a tractor would be needed. So one weekend while I was otherwise occupied at a craft show with some other ladies around here, my husband went "down home" to the area he grew up in to go to some auctions, thinking he could probably find a better deal down there, since all of the smaller tractors around here were quite pricey at the time.

I knew it was going to be trouble when I nonchalantly mentioned to the ladies that my husband was going to the auctions to find a tractor - I felt like I'd stepped into one of those old E.F. Hutton commercials - you honestly could have heard a pin drop as they all stopped talking. Finally one of them looked at me and said incredulously "What are you doin' here? You mean you didn't go with him?!" I had this "uh-oh" sinking feeling as they all tsk-tsked.

Soon my husband called to let me know that he had indeed found us a tractor. It was the smallest one we could afford - a John Deere 4010!

For those of you unfamiliar, the JD 4010 is NOT what you'd call a little tractor for most small acreages. It really is more for actual farming than for the smaller acreages like we have. After finally managing to haul the monster home, he proudly drug me out to have a look at the beast that would come to be known as "Bambi".

The tractor seemingly awakened the sleeping farmboy in my husband and I must say, he looked good up there on his tractor, skillfully manuevering the narrow driveway with the big beast. It became common for him to go straight from his truck to the tractor, at least for a couple of days - UNTIL THE TRANSMISSION WENT OUT! Yep, about 3 days after hauling her home, Bambi wouldn't go forward - only backwards. This was actually more fortunate than it sounds, as she was at the bottom of the driveway when it happened, so at least she made it back up without completely sealing us in.

After a few calls, we found a tractor repair shop in town that would come and get her and rebuild the transmission. Weeks went by, and we drove by the tractor repair shop peering in hopefully on a regular basis - but she was still in there in pieces. Many more weeks went by and we were getting a little ansy....apparently the repair shop didn't really work much on these larger tractors. We were becoming concerned that we may not get the driveway done before winter. Then finally, they called to say she was ready. The repairs ended up costing about half again as much as the whole tractor did, but at least it was finally fixed.

My husband gleefully hopped back up on his beloved tractor (really I think there's something about pushing dirt around that just appeals to him) and bounced off down the driveway to get to work. Minutes later, however, his mood was somewhat different as he stomped into the house to announce that the transmission was again out - roughly half an hour after they'd dropped her off! The repair shop came again and picked her back up....

Some weeks later, and with winter seriously nipping at our heels - Bambi was back all patched up again. So, once again, my husband started off merrily on his way to push the dirt around on the driveway. It was maybe 2 hours later, that he came in and quietly announced that the wheel had fallen off the tractor. Thankfully it was not one of the huge back tires, but one of the more normal sized front wheels, but oddly the wheel itself had broken.

The next day, I called around to find a place to get a new one and luckily found a shop that had one in stock. Not quite sure of where I was going, I stopped to ask directions at a gas station after I'd driven quite a distance, thinking I may have passed it. "Oh, no it's just a couple of exits further" - I was reassured. I was nearly to the Iowa state line when I finally found my exit - about a 2 hour drive. They had the wheel alright, but not the tire, so I started back towards home and pondered where I might find a tire to fit it. While searching around for a tire, I also found a place only 15 miles away that had the wheel (too late - I'd already driven to Iowa for mine)! But at any rate, the wheel was back on.

So hubby got back to work, pushing gravel this way and that, until he had it down to bare dirt. The weather was really starting to have a nip in the air now, and the rains kept him from working sometimes for days. But progress was being made, until one day he came in covered in what appeared to be oil, and a none-too-happy look on his face that made me wonder if I should even ask. "Hydraulic lines broke" he spit out venomously.

The good news was that he knew how to fix it himself - the bad news was that winter had arrived in full force! And by "full force" I'm talking freezing temperatures, ice and SNOW - lots of it! With the tractor down, I was once again effectively stranded, as he couldn't plow the driveway.

He did get the hydraulic lines fixed fairly quickly, but further work on the now dirt only driveway would have to wait until Spring, as the ground was frozen solid.

Little did I know what the Spring thaw would mean....

Warning for Dog Owners or Dog Lovers

2007-10-12T23:26:00.000-05:00

Wow, I sure didn't know this, but raisins and grapes can be quite toxic to dogs! Onions and macadamia nuts also.

You can check it out at Snopes here:

http://www.snopes.com/critters/crusader/raisins.asp

Black Walnuts

2007-10-10T23:46:00.000-05:00

Here it is again, black walnut season!

I have to admit, that they can be a nuisance, so plentiful they are. Yet something still compels me to faithfully collect them. A blessing of sorts, something in my conscience tells me. God or somebody wants me to have an abundance of walnuts, so who am I to overlook them. I grew up under the "waste not, want not" rule, so it's just not in my nature to leave them to rot.

The squirrels and I have an informal agreement....those laying within my easy reach on the paths through the woods are mine, those off the path are all theirs. They seem to be okay with this arrangement, and seldom scold me. There are, it seems, more than enough to go around.

I suppose the best part of black walnut season for me are the peaceful walks my youngest daughter (now 12) and I take, each with our bags to fill. We walk and talk over the days events, all the while keeping a sharp eye out for our lime green treasure. When finally our bags are filled to overflowing, we trudge back up the hill to scatter them on the gravel driveway to be hulled by those who come along.

Some may say this is the "hillbilly" method, but let me tell you, it's the way to go. I wasn't so clever the first time around, and did it by hand....took a good deal of time for that walnut stain to wear off my hands. In the old days, and even now, it makes a great furniture stain. I've heard that they also used it for ink back when. And of course there is the anti-fungal properties attributed to the black walnut hull as well.

Once popped loose of the green hull, it's time to retrieve the exposed walnuts before the squirrels find your stash - another nightly pastime. Then we lay them to be washed by the rain and dry in the sun, until finally they are stored in large tubs awaiting the chore of cracking.....I've yet to find what could be called an easy way to do this - I'm hoping someone will come along and enlighten me. It is quite a job. All I can say is that we must have some tough squirrels around here!

Still even with the fair amount of work that goes into the harvesting of the black walnuts, I must say that I have worked harder for less tasty morsels in my lifetime. A blessing? Yes, I would say so - when one looks at all of those who will go hungry in this world, the fall bounty of black walnuts - free for the taking - is truly a blessing.

Can of worms #1: The driveway

2007-10-10T22:59:00.000-05:00

We moved into the backwards house in November, so my itch to get busy planting all of the things I'd always wanted to grow but never had room for had to wait. Amazingly, the people that had lived there before had never planted a garden of any sort - no landscaping to speak of, no vegetable garden already tilled, no flower gardens.

My husband had vaguely mentioned something about the grade of the driveway not being to his liking, but I blew it off as one of those "yes, dear" type of things and went back to daydreaming about all of the planting I was going to do....visions of pumpkins and corn, squash and canteloupe, and wildflowers everywhere fairly danced in my head. And then the rains came.

The winter finally gave way to spring, and with it came the rains. And with the rains, the driveway began to melt away - slowly at first, then more and faster, until there was a large crevice going right down the middle of it, especially at the hairpin curve (surrounded by natural limestone outcroppings) at the top of the hill. He has an off-road 4 x 4 truck, so it was of little consequence to him, but me - I have a rear wheel drive sporty version of a car, ill suited for this type of off-road adventure.

The mud from this crevice was creating a rather tricky-when-wet area near the bottom of the hill, just where you need to really pick up speed if you are going to make it up. Did I mention that the driveway is lined with wooded area (lots of big trees)? For a time, I nearly froze in sheer terror as my car slid towards a mighty walnut tree, and countless times I'd back up and try another run at it, only to get stuck sideways further up the hill on the hairpin curve. I've got to hand it to my husband, he remained good-natured and even seemed to enjoy some of my predicaments. He's quite the driver, he is, and I'm unashamed to brag on his driving skills - I've truly got to hand it to him - he's somehow always managed to hop in and drive my car out of the most impossible situations. Though after dislodging it from the curve, he did promptly add several 80 pound bags of concrete to the trunk.

At any rate, the driveway was rapidly becoming impassable, and it was clear even to me that something must be done and soon! Grocery shopping was becoming a feat unto itself, as if he wasn't home and I couldn't make it up, it meant multiple trips either trying to slip slide up the muddy 900+ foot long driveway clutching the grocery bags, or hiking straight up through the less muddy woods along the deer trail. My husband assured me that he could fix it, but we'd need to get a tractor.

And that would be Can of Worms #2

Hello, and welcome...

2007-10-10T22:11:00.000-05:00

I've started this blog as a way to share my experiences of my newfound country life - but first a little catching up must be done -

As long as I can remember - certainly clear back to my childhood - I've longed to live in the country. My husband, on the other hand, grew up in the country and was seemingly happy to have escaped and quite content in the suburbs....

When we decided to get married, we quickly found that neither his house nor mine were large enough to contain our children, all of our things plus his tools and all of our collective vehicles. Plus we had one teenager driving, plus 2 others on the verge. What better time to move to the country? It made perfect sense, so off we went to hunt down the perfect property.

That in itself was quite an undertaking. Faithfully we went, armed with real estate MLS sheets, happily provided to us by our weary real estate agent - who I think was quite relieved that we were willing to go "drive by" the far-flung, scattered properties without forcing him to trudge along. A great many of these were nearly automatically eliminated, and we developed our own interpretation of the often overly ambitious descriptions provided by the realtors.

"Horse facilities" is one such gem, that still brings a ready chuckle to either of us when we hear the term....'round here that seems to mean "unsafe to tear down, best burn it down."

In spite of me falling for first one property and then the other, my husband, who is a carpenter by trade, held firmly against buying any of the turn-of-the-century houses that were really only one step above the "horse facility" designation.

Then we found the backwards house, as we call it affectionately. It sits behind several hilly treed acres, with several more pasture/field type acres behind it. The driveway is gravel, pretty much uphill with a rocky hairpin curve right at the top. The back door is actually the one you first approach, not the front door as you normally would - thus the "backwards house."

My accounts that follow are, I suppose sometimes funny, sometimes NOT, but always a learning experience. As for me, I wouldn't trade my new country life for city or suburban living at all! Even with the troubles that I've sometimes encountered, it really is everything I'd hoped it would be and more.

I hope that you will bear with me as I catch up on a few past experiences within the last year or so that are relevant.