Life on the Funny Farm

Farm Friday: Gingham Gardens

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Fri, 14 Aug 2020 14:16:00 +0000

"Funny Farm" aside, I'm no farmer. I do, however, love to garden. It's just not in my blood, though, it doesn't come to me easily. I only started getting into it in the last couple years, and mostly what I've done to this point is a small vegetable garden. I really don't know what I'm doing, just trying to learn as I go along.

So when I find a good resource, it is worth its weight in compost.

Enter Gingham Gardens. This has been such a great resource for me. Joanna, the author, has developed a wonderful, active website chock-full of useful instruction and ideas including:

calendars
planners
DIY projects
printables
resource library
gift ideas

Have a question about planning a perennial garden? She's your man. Want to incorporate some up-cycled vintage pieces into your landscaping but don't know how? Get some inspiration from her gorgeous pictures where she shows you how to use these pieces in a beautiful and inviting way in your garden.

Best of all, she is very approachable and relatable. Some of the gardening things I read make me feel like I'm way out of my depth, but Joanna makes it all seem so very DO-able.

Are you thinking it's too late in the year for me to write about gardening post? Nope. Gingham Gardens just recently published the post How to Plan Next Year's Garden in the Middle of Summer. Perfect timing!

So off you go now, check it out. I'm sure you'll love it as much as I do!

Wordless Wednesday: Stella (Pig in a Blanket)

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 12 Aug 2020 14:12:00 +0000

Filling in the Gaps: Divorce and Moving

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Mon, 10 Aug 2020 04:00:00 +0000

In January 2015, I wrote a post I titled "Coming Clean". Here is the bulk of that post (edited down just a bit), which kind of summarizes the changes I had faced to that point:

Although I'd never shied away from writing about the stressful things in my life, there seemed to be a shift. I felt like if I were to continue writing about the daily goings on under my roof, it would be less how-to from a Mom who'd been-there-done-that, and more Jerry Springer.

Writing about PTSD and trauma and RAD of my young children, in the vein of venting and commiserating and also educating? What's wrong with that?

Writing about misdemeanors of now adult children? Not so easy to go there.

Writing about the fall-out of parenting children with mental illness, trauma-based or otherwise? It's all in the name of keeping it real.

Writing about 911 calls, paramedics, police, questioning neighbors, in-patient admissions? We've moved on to a different realm.

And aside from the parental side of my life, there's the marital. How does one write about a separation after 26 years of marriage and not feel just wrong on so many levels? There's privacy to think about, my kids to think about, my feelings, his feelings, trying to figure out how I feel/he feels/where we stand from one day to the next. How do you write about that sh**?

Although I know first-hand all that is wrong with "wearing a mask", it is something I have been guilty of.

Nothing to see here! We're just one big happy family that managed to go from three kids to four through international adoption of a special-needs child, then from four kids to six with the addition of two older internationally adopted kids with mental health issues including RAD, PTSD and more! Woo hoo! Plus my husband and I were high school sweethearts! We can weather ANY storm, right?

Holding that image up for all to see is a disservice to me, to my family, to my readers.

If I can't write on my blog that it's ok that we are where we are, how am I going to convince my kids? How am I going to sell it to myself?

The truth is, it IS ok.

It's ok that two of my three adopted kids have had their lives dominated by the fallout of the trauma-born mental illness that is often part of the fabric of the lives of adopted children. I have dealt with those issues with dignity, compassion, and love. I have been able to tell my children that no matter what they do, I will always love them, even when their actions have caused me to take drastic measures such as eviction, filing charges, hospital admissions, outpatient programs, residential treatment facilities. It means I love them enough to do whatever it takes to help them become the best persons they can be, even when they may feel that my actions prove just the opposite.

It's ok that life is difficult for the entire family when one of my children (one that's wearing my genes) is dealing with the ramifications of his own mental illness demons. He didn't ask for it. My husband and I, given our unique genetic histories, should never have spawned children. It was the perfect storm. What the family has gone through in dealing with his (and the others) sequellae have stretched us to the limit. I love my kids for their resilience, their flexibility, their adaptability, their compassion.

It's ok that my husband and I may not have a happily-ever-after marriage. It just means that we're honest enough with each other that we can attempt to deal with it, that we can own up to having problems, and we can have the courage to try to fix them. I can't tell you how things will end with us. All I know is that we're trying to figure out if we have what we need to make our marriage succeed. The answer may be yes, and it may be no. Right now the answer is elusive, but I pray that God will show us the answer in His own time.

I am proud of myself for having weathered so much, and to still have the strength I need to deal with problems as they continue to surface. Let's face it, my life is one big Whac-a-Mole game, and I have to keep sharp and quick in noticing the issues and dealing with them as they arise. Have you ever watched someone playing Whac-a-Mole? Their face is always a mixture of both fun and determination. I've got to keep that smile on my face and have fun.

It's life.
It's MY life.

And it is what it is.

It's hard to believe I wrote that more than five and a half YEARS ago! So, just to bring you up to speed, here is a brief summary of what's happened between that post and now:

I dabbled in my own business, Birdsong Bits and Pieces, creating art, decor, and refinishing furniture.
James moved out, first to live with my sister in NJ, but when he burned that bridge, on to NY.
Started the process of divorce.
Fixed up the house with a good bit of help from my friends, to put it on the market.
My Mom was given a few months to live, went into hospice care, and died at home with her children around her.
Rosie went off to college.
Bought a new smaller house, a few miles from the old one.
Plans for selling the farmhouse changed: Fred moved back in to the big house with Daniel.
I fixed up and moved into my new house with Patrick, Julie, Bella, (plus a friend of theirs that moved in with us), and Rosie when she was home from school.
My daughters' friend moved out. Julie started going through another round of new problems, culminating in let's just say drama of many varieties. New ground rules were set that she had to meet or move out. She moved out.
James was brought back home when things got really bad for him in NY. He seemed to be getting things straightened out here, but sadly has fallen off the rails again. He is currently (and it breaks my heart to say this) in jail.
The divorce was finalized.
I have a new job (still in the field of Occupational Therapy, doing home health care) with a great company that pays well and provides benefits even though I'm only part time.
And as you may know, I've gone through a bunch of health issues this year (which resulted in four hospital admissions and countless tests and procedures), including surgery to remove a weirdly positioned stone up in my liver, pancreatitis, and open heart surgery.

And that catches us up on the big picture items. I'm in my new house with Patrick (commuting to college and working part time), Rosie (who with any luck will be doing a semester as a student teacher this fall to finish up her college education), and Bella (who is working at Goodwill). Julie is, for the time being, living with Fred, as is Daniel.

Thank you for letting me catch you up!

On my next update I will take you through a tour of my house, that I am very much in love with. Can't wait to show you!

Farm Friday: Chicken Tunnels

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Fri, 07 Aug 2020 12:19:00 +0000

Chicken tunnels.

Surely you've heard of them?

Surely you have some?

No? Then you must build yourself some. They are the perfect way to get your chickens from point A to point B without either making a huge coop or letting your chickens free-range, which means they will never even make it to point B.

In my case, I wanted to funnel my chooks from their run behind their coop over to our old vegetable garden, which I converted into my compost bin (which isn't really a "bin" per se).

My idea was to build an enclosed space to throw kitchen scraps and yard/garden waste that the chickens could have access to, so they could scratch and poop and do all things chicken-y to turn the scraps into Gardener's Gold. I decided the raised bed that came with my house was too small to use for my garden, but was a good size for a compost area, and situated close-but-not-too-close to the house, so it would be ideal. But it was about 45' or so from the chicken coop.

Enter chicken tunnels.

Since I already had nice sturdy livestock paneling as my existing fence, I had a great base from which to build. I don't have a "how-to" picture tutorial, but it was pretty simple. If you plan to build a free-standing tunnel, your design will need to be different, so off you go, look elsewhere.

Anyway, here's how I made them...

What I did was to take shorter hog panels, as opposed to the taller cattle panels, and laid them on the ground. I placed a 2x4 lengthwise on the panel where I wanted it to bend. Then I just planted my feet on the 2x4, grabbed the upper end of the panel, and pulled so that it bent. I just moved the board down and pulled up on the far end and kept going back and forth till I had the curve the way I wanted it.

I only needed the tunnel to be "dig-proof" on one side. On the inside of my fence (the backyard side), I was making a long row of raised beds for my vegetable garden, which you can kind of see in some of the pictures, but not all. So since that side had a 20" buffer with the raised beds, I didn't need an "apron" of wire. I did, however, need that on the other side in order to keep any predators from digging into the tunnel. Sort of hard to explain, but I attached chicken wire to the existing fence with zip ties, then attached the new tunnel panels to the fence with zip ties, then wrapped the chicken wire over the tunnel, attaching here and there with - you guessed it - zip ties. Where the tunnel met the ground, I ran the wire out about 12", and secured the chicken wire to the ground with garden staples, the kind you tack landscaping cloth down with. The grass just grows right up through it, so it is not a problem mowing over it, and you'd never know it was there to look at it. In fact, you don't even need to weed wack up against the tunnel because the chickens just stick their little beaks through and weed wack for you, considerate little creatures that they are.

So I just kept repeating this down the length of the fence till I got it to where it needed to be. I overlapped the panels a bit. You know what I used to secure one panel to the next? I'm not even gonna say it. It's good to have a little mystery in our lives here and there.

Again, apologies for not taking pictures as I went along to make this a tutorial. It just wasn't in my mind at the time. But hopefully it makes sense. If not, head over to Pinterest where I'm sure you can find some legit tutorials with pictures and everything. I think that's where I got my idea, and then just tweaked it to work for my particular situation.

By the way, my chickens just love it, and it's been working beautifully. I've had zero problems with it. And I could do worse for entertainment than to sit with a cold one at the end of the day and watch them darting back and forth like hamsters in a Habitrail.

Beatrice, ever the pack leader.

Veggie garden-turned compost bin.

Scraps turned into gold, right before my eyes.

Laughter (and hugs, and walks, and pets) Is the Best Medicine.

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Thu, 06 Aug 2020 17:23:00 +0000

Wordless Wednesday: August Walk

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 05 Aug 2020 12:06:00 +0000

Wordless Wednesday: Beach Days

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Thu, 30 Jul 2020 12:57:00 +0000

Filling in the Gaps: Saying Goodbye to My Mother

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Sun, 26 Jul 2020 18:20:00 +0000

So I used to write in this blog pretty prolifically. But when things went from chaotic/messy/stressful/fun to just plain old stressful, the blogging dropped by the wayside as I processed all my life changes.

Looking back, I see the drop-off started in 2016, where I published five posts, then in 2017 there was only one. In 2018 I wrote no posts at all, and a grand total of two in 2019. I'd like to think I'm getting back into the groove this year. I only started up again last month, but already have five posts to my credit!

In a post I wrote in November 2019, I said I would like to go back to fill in the gaps. I am not going to pretend to attack this in any kid of systematic fashion. Instead, I'll just put things up as they come to me and as I have time.

Like I said, the drop-off began in 2016, and one of the biggest things that happened in my life that year was the death of my mother. I had written up a post after her passing, but never published it. I will do that now, and let that serve as my jumping-off point for filling in the gaps between then and now.

Kid, Hon, Bird,

Mrs. Birdsong, Mother Bridsnog

Sugar Britches.

Kathy, Katharine, Kath,

Miss Kimball,

Ma, Mom, Mommy, Grammy,

and (long story) “Susan.”

Katharine Evans Kimball Birdsong went by many names, but the one name that best captures her spirit is…

POET.

She was a gentle soul with a poet’s heart, and on June 2nd, 2016, Katharine Birdsong took her last breath at the age of 72. When my mom learned of her terminal condition, she felt like she was just going on a long trip- quite literally at first. Shortly after her prognosis of having three to five months to live, she had the impulse to start packing and began looking for her favorite well-worn Agatha Christie novel , and her even more worn pair of slippers, only to realize with a disappointed laugh that it was true what they say—“You can’t take it with you.”

She was more of a giver than a taker anyway. One of the greatest things she gave us was a colorful childhood.

Words like “colorful,” “unconventional,” “eccentric”… these are polite substitutions for words less kind -- words that sometimes come with unwarranted shame. They are a gentlemen’s code used to describe people whose brilliance, creativity and compassion come with some heavy crosses to bear. And though our mother’s “peace of mind” was often tested by personal demons, great tragedies and deep loss, she always strove to find some kernel of beauty and light amidst the struggle.

It’s hard to explain our unconventional household, but if you’ve ever come home from school and found a wounded (but very much alive) goose staring back at you from the only bathtub in the house, or a large (but very much dead) deer in the back seat of your mom’s broken down Oldsmobile, you'll have an idea of the colorful childhood our mom painted on a Jersey Shore canvas.

Her unorthodox life was matched by her eclectic resume, with jobs including, but not limited to:

waitress
journalist
clammer
convent cook
monastery maid

These jobs may been humble, but they were not without their perks. While working as a live-in cook and housekeeper for a Catholic bishop (in a beautiful oceanfront home) she'd occasionally “borrow” his house when he was off doing bishop-y things. Her daughter Mary’s eighth birthday party was held in his living room. It beat the one bedroom efficiency apartment over his garage where she and her four children actually lived.

Whether in a professional capacity or for her family, the woman could cook. She nurtured the food she was cooking just as she nurtured the folks fed by it, working a pot of soup like a sculpture. Many sat at her table: friends, neighbors, folks down on their luck or without family. Even from time to time the creepy neighbor who claimed to be an orthodox Ukrainian priest (“He wasn’t no priest!”). She was also an expert at stretching a few meager ingredients. The mouths she could feed with a can of tuna and a loaf of generic white bread would put Jesus’ loaves and fishes to shame.

Born in northern NJ in 1944, Katharine wouldn’t remain a Yankee for long. Her parents relocated to the Deep South (where they’d both grown up) to raise their children in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

Married at seventeen, our mother had her first child at eighteen after having to relocate quite unexpectedly with her new husband to Germany, where they lived an almost medieval lifestyle complete with chamber pots and cauldrons of boiled water for bathing.

After returning to the states and her Louisiana life, she made several moves through a handful of states and eventually wound up in a South Jersey Shangri-La called Long Beach Island. Choosing a remote island for her home, where she knew not a blessed soul had its own unique challenges, but she was nothing if not resourceful.

Case in point: Her first day on the island she’d tucked her three small children into bed with kisses on their cheeks and thumb-swiped crosses on their foreheads, then returned to unpacking. Much time and many boxes later, she still could not find the alarm clock. Desperate to make sure they’d all wake up in time for school, she called the police, and in her soft whisper of a southern voice, she asked the amused cop on the other end of the line for a wake-up call. He was putty in her hands, and her children all got to school on time the next morning.

How a woman as beautiful as she could be so self-conscious of her looks is hard to fathom, yet she never saw the beauty that was so apparent to others. Despite her poor opinion of her looks, she stopped many a heart and turned many a head. In fact, one Halloween while taking her children trick-or-treating, she was hit on by a bold 13 year old who mistook the dark-haired beauty for a gypsy. “Son,” she said, “I’m somebody’s Mama.”

Her Mama’s depression-era mentality certainly rubbed off on her, and she was simply unable to throw things out. Cupboards and counter tops overflowed with cookie tins, plastic bottles, boxes and bags of all shapes and sizes. Her refrigerator was crammed tight with little baggies containing half pieces of toast or a few crumbles of bacon, each labelled meticulously with a black marker on a piece of masking tape. Although she would use paper plates, she refused to throw them out until they were threadbare, wiping them off over and over because they were still “perfectly good.” Some say "Hoarder," others say "Green.” Tomato, tuhmahto.

Regardless, though she had to feed four children from a poverty-level pantry, she knew all there was to know about British Royal Family lineage, Shakespearean sonnets, biblical archaeology, and the latest installment of Masterpiece Theatre. She was quite the anglophile. Yorkshire Pudding was a regular item on the menu, but her children would eat it off of rickety TV trays while sitting on a three-legged curb-rescue sofa watching Laverne and Shirley.

Cooking and kindness will likely be what folks remember most about Katharine. A friend recently said of her, “She was always so kind to me. Every time she saw me she would compliment me, tell me I was a good father, and that God had a special place for me.” That was just what she did.

She lost her only son Donald (her first-born child) to brain cancer when he was just 33 years old. And when his illness went from bad to worse she cared for him when he could no longer care for himself. She was with him through all of it.

With her intelligence and her compassion, she could have excelled in any field, but due to so many struggles (both internal and external) she never found “success” in the traditional sense of the word. She was, however, wildly successful in making those around her feel loved and cherished, and as unique as their fingerprints. There were many times she could not access her heart of gold, her generous and kind nature. But when she could, you felt flooded by the light of the angels, and buoyed by the voice of a poet:

FINGERPRINTS

by Katharine Birdsong

To all who’ve touched my life, my soul,

Who’ve broken me or made me whole,

Or who’ve revealed a glimpse of you,

Stripped by all except what’s True—

You’ve left your mark no other’ll see,

Indelible, a part of me;

An imprint only you could make,

And from me none’ll ever take.

Light and dark, these works of Art—

Fingerprints upon my heart----

For good or not, I cannot tell,

But I’ve left my own as well.

Farm Friday: Growing Pumpkins

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Fri, 24 Jul 2020 19:16:00 +0000

I wanted to try growing pumpkins and gourds this year, but didn't want to take up too much ground space with their rambliness.

I saw an idea on Pinterest of growing pumpkins in raised beds with livestock panel trellises, and I thought I'd give it a try. It's too early to tell if I'm going to get a successful yield, but so far I'm very happy with them! They were super easy to build, and don't take up too much real estate.

I used 8' cedar planks, and 4"x4" posts cut into 1' chunks for the raised beds.

I drove U-posts into the ground, then bent two 16' panels into place, overlapping slightly in the middle. I secured the panels to the posts with zip ties, then just set the raised beds in place. I laid cardboard in the bottoms of the beds, then filled with soil and compost.

We go out every few days just to help train the vines up the trellis.

First little pumpkin!

Wordless Wednesday: Firewood Delivery

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 22 Jul 2020 08:41:00 +0000

My neighbor Gideon and his two youngest boys leaving my yard after delivering a small load of firewood for our fire pit.

Wordless Wednesday - Storm Clouds

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 24 Jun 2020 12:32:00 +0000

Rollin' in

Series: Open Heart Surgery. After ("Stuff" and precautions)

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Sat, 20 Jun 2020 16:25:00 +0000

This is the final post on the open heart surgery series. If you want to look back at the others, here are the links:

Series: Open Heart Surgery. Before (Planning).
Series: Open Heart Surgery. During (Stress Management).

This post will address - as the title implies - the period of time following the surgery. The main focus will be on creature comforts that will make your life easier/more comfortable in the days following the surgery. I will also provide some basics about sternal precautions, adaptive equipment, and exercise, but you will get most of that info from your treatment team prior to leaving the hospital, so obviously, defer to whatever specifics they give you.
I'm just some chick.
I mean, The Content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition.

As far as a general idea of what to expect while you're in the hospital, you should refer to the Stress Management post.

So. Creature comforts.

I had been hospitalized for several days in February for pancreatitis.
That sucked for me. But to my benefit for my cardiac surgery, and to the benefit of anyone reading this that needs to plan for something similar, it was a learning experience. Specifically, I was able to identify:

1) what sucked
2) how badly it sucked
3) how long the suckiness lasted
4) what could be done to diminish the suckiness.

There are many things that you will not be able to do anything about. You're going to feel sick, and low-energy, and in pain. And while there may be nothing you can pull out of your overnight bag to help with those things, you can put them in the hands of your doctors and nurses and let them work their magic.

But as far as the little corner of the universe that you DO have control over, here is a packing list. For some items, I'm including links to specific items I purchased, but this is not a sponsored post, there are no affiliated links or whatever. Get what I got or borrow things or purchase elsewhere. You do you.

FOR IN THE HOSPITAL

Phone and charger: The outlet may be on the wall behind your bed, so bring the longest cord you have.
Toothbrush, toothpaste: hospital will provide both, but they will be crappy.
Deodorant: ditto above.
Dry shampoo: you may not even care about the state of your hair at this time, but if you do, this will help.

This kind of product is available anywhere.

Hairbrush
Ponytail/clip: when I'm on my back for days on end, my preferred style is what I like to call the "hospital-bed top-knot".

I present to you the "hospital-bed top-knot". Pay no attention to the grey.

Hospital gown: The first few days I was so sick, what I was wearing was the furthest thing from my mind. But when I was in the hospital earlier in the year, I hated the struggle to keep me arse covered, keep it from falling off my shoulders, and the difficulty trying to wash up at the sink. So I bought myself this gown that I found on Amazon. It's actually made for someone having a baby, but it worked perfectly for me as a heart surgery patient. The staff had no problem with it and they found it actually made things easier for them. I thought washing at the sink was easier in this gown than it was in the standard-issue hospital gown. And it was more discreet, as it had snaps down the back. The only problem is that if I sat on it wrong, a snap or two would open occasionally. I just learned to pull the excess fabric to the back prior to sitting and that seemed to solve the problem.

Perfect access for wound care. If you thought anything else, get your mind out of the gutter.

Travel pillow: I brought a travel pillow with me because it was small enough to fit in my overnight bag, but a big standard bed pillow would also be great. You definitely need something to improve your comfort, because those hospital pillows? It would probably be hard to design something that would be less comfortable. I suppose you could fill a sack with Legos or something. Nope. I stand by my original statement that nothing could be less comfortable. Bring something from home. In fact, if you want to get super fancy, put a couple drops of lavender oil on whatever pillow you bring.

This looks like the one I used. I love it!

Slippers: The hospital will provide you with those one-size-fits-all socks with the non-slip treads on them. I am positive that whomever designed the hospital pillows designed these socks, because they are scratchy, knobby things from hell. Non-slip footwear is required whenever you get out of bed, but my feet prefer to go commando in bed, and I was too sick and impaired to put those socks on my feet every time I needed to get up. Slippers were perfect. The ones I already had at home needed to be pulled on around the heel, so I bought these slippers that I could slip on, but had just enough of a little lip in the back that they stayed on well.

These are the ones I got. Make sure your slippers fit well so they stay on securely.

Eye mask: I'm not an eye mask wearer at home, but I brought this with me and used it quite a bit. It really did help. This specific one was nice because it didn't sit flat against my eyes, it has kind of a dome, so I could actually open my eyes when wearing it. Not sure why I need to open my eyes while wearing an eye mask, but hey, I pay the big bucks for all those extra features.

Ear plugs: My eye mask came with ear plugs, too, but my ears always reject ear plugs. My ears are rebels.

This is the set I used, and it worked well.

Jacket: I had known that I was going to have drainage tubes with this surgery, I was just not prepared for what that really meant. I thought they would be little bulbs, not the ginormous Frankenstein tubes with the boxes that I saw emerging from my body when I woke up.

No no. Not this. Not in your wildest dreams.

I had three of these babies. If you want to see the tubes coming out of my body, see the "during" post.

This is what I bought, only in grey.

Obviously, the jacket has not been created that could tuck those drain boxes into little pockets.
However, I did find it useful anyway, See, the hospital gown they used had a little pocket to hold the telemetry monitor.

Something like this. This is not a picture of me. I am not an elderly man with a cane.

Anyway, like I said, I wanted to use my own gown, which did NOT have a telemetry pocket. I hate the way the monitor pulls the hospital gown forward and down. So I was able to wear the little jacket and slip the monitor in the pocket. That being said, a little pouch of some kind that you could wear around your neck or sling over your shoulder would work just fine. I just wasn't prepared for my post-op reality.

So that's pretty much it for the contents of my overnight bag. I think I also had some lip balm, Tic-Tacs, and a couple of magazines. I didn't bring any books, because I knew I would be lacking in powers of concentration, plus I always have some loaded on Kindle and Audible if I really wanted to read. Magazines were perfect for the last day or so. Prior to that, I couldn't so much as watch TV, honestly.

I had gotten a couple things for home, as well:

FOR IN YOUR HOME

Tote: This lightweight tote really helped me in my first couple of weeks home. I used it to cart around my phone, glasses, pulse oximeter, journal, medicine, etc. You have to be careful not to overload it, as usual sternal precautions include not lifting anything over 8#. But better to have all that crap in one tote that you can slip onto your arm, than to try juggling all of that when walking around, especially when you may still be a bit unsteady on your feet.

I liked this one because it was so lightweight, had lots of compartments, and was on sale.

Wedge: I bought this wedge to help position myself comfortably for sleeping in my bed. Lying flat on your back can be uncomfortable and make it harder to breathe after open heart surgery. This really helped. In fact, I just stopped using it, and I'm one month out now.

You can position it like above, or upright for a more reclined/seated position.

Tank tops: I'm not much of a bra-wearer in normal times anyway, but I certainly wasn't going to start fussing with one after joining the Zipper Club. I have a bunch of tank tops that I always liked to wear under my scrubs for work, and these fit the bill for post-surgery recovery. A little bit of stretch, low cut so they don't bother my scar much, and just enough structure to lend a little support.

Not sure if this is the brand I have, but it looks similar.

I think that covers it insofar as products for hospital and home. I did not use any adaptive equipment, but many people need it and find it very helpful. Here are a few things to consider:

Toilet seat riser: This is a device that - you guessed it -raises the height of your toilet seat. You don't want a commode over your toilet, or a riser with armrests, because you are not supposed to push up through your arms after open heart surgery. Armrests would just be tempting the devil.

Toilet seat riser

Shower bench: The first few times you shower, it will be difficult. My first day home, in fact, I asked my sister to wash my hair, and even so I was exhausted after the whole ordeal. Using a shower bench helps to conserve your energy, and if you are having any problems with balance or extreme weakness, a bench will keep you safer.

Again, forego the armrests so you can forego temptation to push through your arms.

Power recliner: This would be a pretty pricey item to buy for your post recovery time, but it would make your life easier. I have a recliner, but it's just the kind with a lever on the side to pull to get the footrest up or down. It was more than I was allowed to push/pull, so in the beginning I had to get someone else to operate the lever. That got old pretty fast. Then I learned how to keep the footrest up and just kind of straddle the footrest when I wanted to get up or down, lol.

We all need a decent recliner in our lives. It might as well be a power one!

STERNAL PRECAUTIONS

Because your chest has been opened up and then wired back together, you will need to follow sternal precautions to allow the cartilage, muscles and skin to heal properly. Again, I will defer to your specific treatment team for your specific parameters for your specific body and surgery, but in general, here is what you will need to follow:
1) Do not push through your arms to rise up or lower down to/from any surface, including chair, bed, car, shower bench, etc. Generally, the higher the surface, the easier, so getting in and out of a low car will be more difficult than getting on and off a higher chair like a kitchen stool. If anyone assists you, they should give support at your back, not pull through your arms.
2) Do not push/pull/lift/carry anything more than 8lbs, which is roughly equivalent to a gallon of milk.
3) Brace your sternum (incision area) with the heart pillow you got at the hospital (or any other pillow, really) whenever you need to cough or sneeze, or if you get a case of the hiccups. Also clutch this when getting up off a chair or out of bed, at least in the beginning. And try not to sneeze if at all humanly possible. Because, my God in heaven. Hurts like a mother f-er. Sorry for the "language", but my God.
4) Don't raise both arms overhead at the same time, and don't reach both arms behind your back at the same time. One at a time is okay, though.

I'm not going to cover incision care here, but inspect your incision daily, and follow the washing instructions given to you by staff. And don't soak in a tub while you're healing.

EXERCISE

Exercise is going to be an integral part of your recovery, but it is important to follow the specific instructions given to you by your treatment team in terms of what exercises you should be following, as well as the timeline. And at some point into your recovery period you may get involved in cardiac rehab, as well. I will be meeting with my surgeon for my follow-up appointment soon, and I plan on asking about that. But in the beginning, I followed the walking protocol I was given which started with one ten minute walk a day, then increased to two ten minute walks, then one 15 minute walk, and then increasing the number of minutes per day in one minute increments till I reached the end goal (where I am now) of 40 minute walks. My first few walks? I needed someone to accompany me, and I didn't travel far in the ten minutes, let me tell you. But now I'm walking on my own and going two miles in the 40 minutes. Not bad, one month out, if I do say so myself.

"Just put one foot in front of the o-therrrr..." Sing it with me!

"Take me home, country roads..." Are you still singing?

I couldn't get the cows to sing with me.

That's okay. Just keep on walkin'!

And that's a wrap! I hope this was helpful to all of you out there who will be going through something like this. I have heard from a lot of you, and I wish you the best! Please feel free to leave me a message below, or to contact me through the Mended Hearts forum, or message me privately or through Facebook or whatever. Or send me an owl. The point is, if you have any questions, I am more than happy to help. It's not an easy thing to go through, so we could all use all the support and information we can get. Am I right ladies? And gents?

Godspeed!

Series: Open Heart Surgery. During (Stress Management)

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Mon, 15 Jun 2020 00:43:00 +0000

Last week I started a series on planning for and dealing with major surgery. In my case, it was open heart surgery, but I imagine this could apply to other surgeries, as well.

The first post focused on the planning phase, so go check it out if you want some tips on what you need to do plan for such an event.

My initial intention was that the second post in the series would just be about what to pack to ensure a more comfortable hospital stay. However, in giving it more thought, I'm switching gears to discuss stress and anxiety, on how that can impact you and what you can do to get a handle on it.
I'll include a few pictures from the hospital. Some are gross, so look away f you're squeamish. You have been warned.

STRESS
There are so many things out of your control during this phase, sometimes frighteningly so, that I think it wise to get a handle on self-calming techniques so that stress and anxiety do not become a runaway train for you. Allow me to provide a review of some times that could leave you feeling anxious:

On the shuttle bus from the parking garage to the hospital. Starting to feel nervous.

PRE-OP
This is the period of time that you are being prepped for surgery. You might want to think of this in two parts. There is the time that a host of professionals are getting you ready in a curtained-off bay, and then there is the prep time in the actual OR before you are put under.

The prep time will include changing into a hospital gown, a review of your vital signs, sometimes peeing in a cup, getting an IV line started, and a multitude of redundant questions about your name, date of birth, why you are there, what allergies you have, what medications you are on, when you last ate and drank, history of reactions to anesthesia, and more. You will be asked these questions again and again and again by different disciplines, including techs, nurses, nurse practitioners, physician assistants, residents, fellows, doctors. Don't be surprised if the janitor asks you a few just for good measure. The point is, expect it, and try not to get upset that you just answered the same question for the last three people who walked through your curtain.
You may or may not have your support person with you at this time, depending on hospital policy and current climate (my surgery took place during the pandemic, so having a support person was not allowed). *See end of post for clarification on this*
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

Once all of that is done and the surgeon is ready, you will be wheeled in to the OR. It will be cold. There will be lots of lights and gadgets. There will be a mass of people milling about. All of this can be pretty overwhelming, so this is a good time to start putting into practice any calming strategies that work for you (I will review some resources later). In addition to all the sights and sounds, there may be more procedures to go through, none of which you will be able to see very well as you will be flat on your back. With my surgery, they still needed to install some catheters and measuring devices in my wrist and neck, as well as "way down south" (be sure to take care of any landscaping needs prior to heading to the hospital). I didn't care so much about the wrist and neck doo-dads, but they thankfully put me under prior to inserting the Foley catheter.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

Photo from Quora

This whole period of time when you're in the OR but still pre-anesthesia can almost feel like an out-of-body experience, because you are just lying there on the OR table and there are so many people all around, but for the most part they are not talking to you, just to each other as they complete their tasks. They are all working on some piece of you as you stare up at the ceiling and listen to their murmuring. So again, some calming breaths and peaceful thoughts would be really helpful during this stage.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

Anyway, at some point they will mercifully bid you good night, and that cold OR is the last thing you will remember before waking up in the ICU.

POST-OP/ICU
For me, this was the most stressful time of the whole ordeal, soup to nuts. Having a better handle on stress management could have helped me tremendously during this phase. And I thought I knew all about it. I teach it to my patients for crying out loud. Problem was, I hadn't really practiced any of it, which I should have done. I will share my personal experience with you, not to scare you, but so that you can figure out what techniques would work for you should you ever need to go through something similar.
And this is where the pictures get kinda gross.

Although I knew I would awaken from surgery in the ICU still hooked up to the ventilator and unable to speak or breathe on my own, there was a vast gap between the knowledge of it and the experience of it. Once I "came to" more, I became increasingly aware of the tube down my throat. Both the physical and psychological aspects of that really ramped up my anxiety.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

Eyes not open yet, but responding to commands.

To make matters worse, they weren't real enthusiastic about whatever numbers rule their world, so my extubation time kept getting pushed back by 15 minutes, again and again. As each 15 minutes passed, I would become more alert, but then more anxious when they would decide to delay extubation another 15. Panic started to set in, to the point one of my caretakers had to talk to me in that calming voice that you know means you're in trouble. "It's okay, look at me, you're okay, you're doing fine..." Which was probably true for THEM, but for ME I felt like I couldn't breathe and was going to die. There, I said it. I've heard of people who had complications coming out of anesthesia, and I just knew I was going to be one of those people.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

But you know what? I wasn't. Eventually, my numbers made my nurses and doctors happy, and they pulled the tube. That, in itself, was horrendous, but at least it was coming out, and that was all I cared about. They tell you to cough, they pull, and out it comes. Easy peasy. But it felt dreadful and there was much suctioning going on and throat pain and the feeling of drowning because you've got ick in your lungs that you're not strong enough to expel. Cue more feelings of death and despair.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

When the worst of that passed, excruciating thirst kicked in. I asked my nurse for a mouth swab, which is a little tiny water-soaked sponge about the size of your fingernail on a lolli-stick. She was kind enough to grant that wish. But when that wasn't enough, I begged her in the name of God and all things holy for a cup of ice chips. She said she couldn't do that, because it always got her in trouble. I offered her up my first-born. She didn't really want my first-born, but she was a kind and merciful soul, so she acquiesced. I chewed on the ice and I was in nirvana. I would never want for another thing in my life. Until I wanted to gulp the ice water that had collected in the bottom of the cup. What is beyond nirvana? Whatever it is, I found it.
Until I needed to throw up. Someone passed by my room and I yelled in my post-ventilation tube throaty rasp, "I'm going to be sick!" He ran in and said, "I'll go find a basin, but here's the suction tube for now." He handed me the tube and ran out the door. When the vomit came (and it did come), I shoved the tube in my mouth, clamped my lips shut, and turned on the suction. It did the trick.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

But from that point on, things got better. I learned some things about my body in its current state. I learned what it feels like to have plastic sleeves on my legs that inflate every so often to squeeze the legs in order to prevent clots. I learned what it feels like to have a Foley catheter pulled from your body (not at all pleasurable). I learned that I now had three enormous tubes coming out of my upper abdomen, each snaking its way to its own large plastic box that measured how much stuff was draining out of the spaces around my lungs and heart. I think they use it to give me an oil change, too? Not sure. I learned that I still had a myriad of other tubes and lines in my neck, wrists, and arms, as well as ekg leads and the generic nasal cannula to provide still much-needed oxygen to my under-performing lungs.
(INSERT STRESS-REDUCTION TECHNIQUES HERE)

Chest tubes. The Three Amigos.

So many monitors, so little time.

But I also learned that I had compassionate and professional care-providers who seemed to know a thing or two about what they were doing. And that one by one, all the tubes and wires would be removed from my body. Some before I left the ICU, some once I was installed in my room on the regular hospital floor. For the first time, I began to feel less anxious and more confident. This is an excellent time to mentally review all the goals ticked off, and fully realize you are making progress.
(INSERT PRAYERS OF GRATITUDE HERE)

HOSPITAL ROOM
There continued to be more stressful moments in the ICU, such as getting the first of the chest tubes removed, but having that first bit of confidence restored really helped me to manage the anxiety better.

However, there were plenty of stress-inducing matters to come. I won't continue with a play-by-play, but I will fashion together a list of things that may cause you to feel increased stress, as well as suggestions for what may help.

Exhaustion
What you'll feel: Prepare to feel extremely low energy levels and just pure exhaustion, both mentally and physically. Like, you didn't think it was possible to feel this poorly.
How to cope: Don't sweat it. It's normal after something so traumatic to your body. Give your body a chance to work its healing magic, and try to get as much rest as you can. And a helpful tip: in your pre-hospital preparations, ask someone to be your liaison with family and friends. In this way, you can connect with that one person by phone or text when you're able, and he or she can provide updates to everyone else. You will likely be too tired to scroll through a bunch of different texts from well-wishers and provide very repetitive information to each.

Nausea
What you'll feel: Anesthesia and pain meds can make you feel nauseous, which will just add to your overall feelings of exhaustion and sickness. Besides the suction tube incident in the ICU, I got sick again as they were taking me to my hospital room, and continued to feel nauseous for awhile before it finally went away.
How to cope: Let your nurse know, and he or she can usually provide you with some medication to help. Ice chips will also help (just don't gulp the water, lol!) .

Pain
What you'll feel: Pain. Duh.
How to cope: Communicate with your nurses. Each person is different in terms of pain thresholds and what types of medication they can tolerate. It may be a little trial and error, but the goal is to find what works for you. And you may never be completely pain free. Maybe you will, but don't get upset if you're not. The goal is not to keep people completely free of pain, but to keep it well-managed so they are comfortable. I can also tell you that in hindsight I think I would have done better with feeling a little more pain in order to feel less groggy and just so OUT of it. It's a trade-off and you have to figure out what you can tolerate.

Sleep
What you'll feel: You may become sleep deprived due to lack of good, deep sleep. Between the meds you're on, need to pee, vital sign checks every four hours, an uncomfortable bed, and the noise/lights/bustle of the hospital, it's unusual to get more than a quick doze here and there. This at a time when you need more sleep than a three-toed sloth with a hangover.
How to cope: Ask your nurse or tech to keep your door closed, which helps more than you would think. Close the window blinds. Bring an eye mask and possibly ear plugs. Also a comfy pillow or a travel neck pillow. Play around with the settings on the bed. I found I was most comfortable with both the head and knee section of the bed raised, and it kept me from sliding down in the bed.

Hopelessness
What you'll feel: You may feel like you'll never be back to normal. I've never been one to put a whole lot of stock in "normal", but at this time it was something I longed for.
How to cope: In my hospital room, there was a white board on the wall for each bed. There were pre-printed things on the board like date, nurse, doctor, etc, and the nurse would update the info as needed. One of the items was goals. I found this very comforting and motivating. The goals were often simple, but left me feeling like I was making progress. Things like walk 3x/day, use the spirometer 10x/hour, manage pain, wean off oxygen. Some of these were things I could DO, and cross off at the end of the day. It helped me feel more in control and less anxious.

Day before discharge, I still had one chest tube to go.

Toileting
What you'll feel: You will probably need to pee a lot due to medications aimed at keeping your fluid levels down.
How to cope: This can be difficult when just the act of getting in and out of bed can be a monumental feat. In the beginning, you will need help, and will probably need to use a bedside commode instead of making the trek to the bathroom. As you recover, you will be able to get to the commode without help, and eventually even be able to walk to the bathroom without help. Bottom line, just ask for assistance. Also, don't even bother with underwear, at least not in the beginning. It's just one more thing to make your life difficult. You sexy, sexy thing, you.

Mobility
What you'll feel: On the topic of getting back and forth to the potty, walking is a big deal when recovering. It is important on so many levels, yet feels impossible in the beginning. When you've got chest tubes poking out of your body and their accompanying drainage boxes and the pulse ox on your finger and the heart monitor weighing you down and your body freshly torn asunder and stitched back up, it seems impossible that someone would expect you to WALK anywhere. But they do. And you will.
How to cope: Know that they will not expect you to fly solo. They may give you a walker. They will hang your drainage boxes or carry them for you. They will monitor your oxygen levels and heart rate, and constantly ask you how you feel, and they will be with you every step of the way. Sometimes your nurse, sometimes an aide, and occasionally PT and/or OT will accompany you. Take it slow. Breathe. Be honest about communicating when you've had enough or if you're scared. I tend to be someone to bite off more than I can chew, but there were a few times I could not meet their suggested distance. It was okay. There were other times I was able to do more than they asked, so it all balanced out. Soon you'll be back to running marathons. Or at least, I don't know, walking to the freezer in your kitchen for ice cream without help.

So those are the main things that came to mind. If you have questions about other aspects of the hospital stay, let me know and I can try to address it.

As I said at the start of the post, I will add a list of resources on stress management. I will also add some basic pointers right here so if you don't feel like looking at other websites or apps you don't need to.

Stress Management 101
Stress is your body's reaction to perceived danger. It's the fight or flight syndrome.
How it works in a nutshell is that your brain perceives danger, and reacts by activating the sympathetic nervous system, which prepares your body for fight or flight. This is survival mode, so the things that are needed most for survival are hyper-awareness and muscles-at-the-ready to fight or to run. Your heart prepares by beating faster, your digestive system prepares by closing up shop.
This is all great, and serves us well, but the problem is that on a primal level, we don't really know the difference of danger as in, a lion is about to pounce on us, or danger as in, I never paid my electric bill and I'm afraid my power will get shut off, or danger as in, I'm scared because a surgeon is about to cut me open. Stress is stress is stress as far as our body is concerned.
So that means regardless of the stressor, our body will react by sending adrenaline and cortisol coursing through our system, and we will be left dealing with a jackhammer heart, racing thoughts, and rapid breathing, even if there is no big hairy lion for miles.

So stress management, then - quite simply - is learning to manage our stress. We have to let the brain overrule the body as to whether or not we are actually in immediate danger.

With me so far?

So to combat that rapid breathing? Nice, slow, deep breaths.
To counteract the hyper-awareness? Mindfulness.
To alleviate the tension in your muscles? Muscle relaxation.

I will summarize each of these three things very briefly, and provide links in case you want to learn more.

Pursed-lip breathing is a way to get your breathing under control by filling and then emptying your lungs with nice deep breaths, to break the pattern of the rapid breathing, To do this, just breathe in deeply through your nose like you're sniffing a flower, to the count of 2, then exhale through pursed lips like you're blowing out a candle, to the count of 4. Repeat. And repeat and repeat.

Mindfulness is the opposite of being hyper-aware and having racing thoughts. It is being hyper-focused on the here and now. Go through your senses one by one. What do you see, smell, feel, hear? Not just a cursory inventory, but really immerse yourself in each, one by one. A helpful acronym here is STOP:
S is for Stop. Stop the roller-coaster of thoughts and emotions.
T is for Take a breath.
O is for Observe. Observe everything around you, but not in a racy-racy way. In a thinky-thinky way.
P is for Perceive. How do the things you're observing impact you?

If you're too geared up or just feel too unpracticed in mindfulness, there are some shortcuts you can take to counteract the physical effects of stress:
Listen to calming music
Look at pictures or artwork or videos (like a clip of ocean waves) that soothe you
Segmental relaxation: starting at your toes and working up to head/neck/face, squeeze a muscle group tight-tight-tight, hold, and then release. Feel the heaviness of the muscle groups.
Prayer
Guided imagery: think of a place that is very relaxing to you (for me it's the ocean). Close your eyes and picture yourself there. Then use a modified mindfulness technique, by going through the senses to more deeply recall that place. What do you see, hear, feel, smell?

So that's the basics, and you can do pretty much all of it with just mind and body, no apps required. But if you want to learn more, or have some music clips to choose from or meditation guides, here are a few things you can check out. My personal favorite is the app Calm.

General info:
Web MD
Mayo Clinic
American Heart Association

Books:
Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers
The Relaxation and Stress Reduction Workbook

Apps:
Headspace
Calm

That's it for now, folks! This was a lot of information. My next post will be a brief one that will just focus on some products and tips that could make your life easier/more comfortable during your hospital stay. See you then!

*PS: I'm now realizing I need to clarify something. As far as having a support person, I DID have one. My amazing baby sister Veronica. She drove me to the hospital and we took the shuttle bus over, and found our registration area/waiting room. I think they did not allow her back to rejoin me after the initial pre-op prep was done, but I'm hazy on that. I know that they allowed her to visit with me for about 15 minutes once they settled me in the ICU, but I don't have any recollection of that. She tells me I was able to nod and squeeze her hand. I'll have to take her word for it. And she took the ICU photos (at my earlier request). After the 15 minutes, they sent her on her way, and from that point on I was not allowed any visitors. She was also my "liaison" that kept all my peeps updated on how I was doing. Her help and support were immeasurable. Thank you, Ron!

Series: Open Heart Surgery. Before (Planning).

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 10 Jun 2020 00:34:00 +0000

Three weeks ago today my chest and my heart were cut open and my heart was shut down for about 40 minutes, placed on bypass so the surgeon could make some repairs.

It all went well, they tell me. But now I'm in this recovery phase, where I'm supposed to sit around and do nothing so my body can recuperate.

"It'll be relaxing" they said!

Ugh.

In the weeks and months leading up to the circled date on the calendar, I prepped meals for the freezer, I deep-cleaned, I organized, I made lists of activities I could do from a seated position. So I was prepared, I thought, to sit and recover.

But I just don't do well with sitting. It's beautiful spring weather and I want to be doing big ol' projects, getting my hands dirty!

Sigh. My body has been very quick to tell me when I've done too much. There is no cheating.

Anyway, my sister suggested I write about it on my blog. She said it would give me something to do, AND maybe help others who are going through something similar. I thought that made a lot of sense.

So here I am. I'll write a few posts, with an eye towards passing on what I have learned from this experience. I bought a few products along the way, so I'll share how they helped or didn't help. When possible, I'll include links to specific things that worked, but this blog is not monetized, so I gain nothing from your clicks. So don't even worry about that.

I'm thinking I'll organize this in a before, during and after kind of format. I'll try to just put a little bit of info in each post. More bite-sized than all inclusive. Otherwise this thing would be a novel. But not in a good way.

And let me know if you have any questions! I'll be glad to answer to the best of my ability. Plus if I'm engaged in answering questions, I'm less likely to get myself into trouble.

BEFORE

How did I get here?
A couple days before Christmas, I went to the emergency room at the advice of my primary care doctor. I was having pain in the general vicinity of my chest, and really high blood pressure. Although I was pretty convinced it was something GI-related, I was being worked up as a cardiac patient. In the end, I was right. The pain was from a weirdly located stone lodged way up in my liver, but in all the testing and poking and prodding, they found a pretty serious heart problem.

So on Christmas eve, I was told I was going to need open heart surgery. This surgery was going to take me out of commission for several months, as I wouldn't be able to drive or lift more than a gallon of milk for a month, and wouldn't be ready to return to work for about three months.
But because I needed to get the stone thing taken care of first, as well as do a bunch of other tests, the heart surgery wouldn't take place for months.
Plenty of time for an OCD anal retentive gal like me to plan (insert maniacal laughter here).

What to do first?
Like any self-respecting organization-aholic, I started making lists. I made lists of freezer meals I could prep, things I wanted to take care of prior to surgery, and things I could do while recovering. I wrote out what I would need to do in terms of my job, and who was going to be able to do what while I was recovering.

There was a lot of information and a lot of things to think about and plan for. Keeping a notebook can be really helpful in these kinds of situations, although I found my planner had a lot of pages in the back that worked nicely for this purpose.

Here is a list of some of those items to take care of, for anyone who might have to plan a time of convalescence:

JOB
Will you need time off from work? Let your manager know as soon as possible. You night need to contact Human Resources to find out if there is any paperwork you or our doctor needs to fill out.
Will you be eligible for disability? I hadn't been at my new job long enough, but I was able to request a Leave of Absence as an accommodation under the Americans with Disabilities Act.

If someone will be filling in for you in your absence from work, do you need to make them a list of your job duties, things to take care of or watch for so things don't fall between the cracks while you're away?

LIFE-PLANNING
Okay, I hate to say it, but you will want to make sure you have your affairs in order.
Major surgeries have risks, I don't care how good your surgeon/team/medical facility are, there are risks.
To that end, you want to make sure your basic life-planning paperwork is taken care of. Or if that's something you haven't started, GET started. Since I had recently gotten divorced, I hadn't redone mine yet, as it was just in my "get-to-it-later" list of things to do. The surgery pushed it to the front of the queue.

So I went to a lawyer and had all the paperwork drawn up, including a POA (Power of Attorney), a will, and also a Medical (or Durable) POA. The latter clarifies your wishes on medical issues. In other words, pull the plug or continue life as a vegetable? DNR or do everything possible to keep you alive? I could get very specific here, but I think most people have a pretty good understanding of the basic gist of this kind of document. It's up to each individual to determine where they stand on these matters. The point is, get it done.

HOUSEHOLD PAPERWORK
Get caught up on bills, and if you have any bills that are not on auto-pay, set that up if you can. The last thing you want is a late payment fee because a bill didn't get paid when you were flat on your back in a hospital bed.

If you're like me, you have a stack of paperwork waiting for that magical moment when you have nothing else to do and an inspired need to file comes over you. Yeah, no. So anyway, now's the time to get caught up on that stuff.
Make a list of who to call for different issues that may arise while you're in the hospital, so whomever is at the house (adult kids in my case) will know what to do if the power goes out, or the hot water heater springs a leak. That kind of thing.

HOUSEHOLD DUTIES
Find out from your surgeon what your restrictions will be post-surgery, as well as an accompanying timeline of those restrictions. From there, you can better plan which of your usual tasks/chores will need to be delegated to others.
In my case, since I would not be able to drive for a month, I wanted to stock my pantry with as much as I could, knowing that I would still need to rely on others for runs to the store for weekly perishables. I set aside a shelf in my basement to stock up on hygiene items, pet food, pasta/rice/beans, cereals, cleaning supplies, etc.
I made a list of chores that are done around the house, trying to include as many things as I could remember. Cleaning the litter box, feeding the pets, tending the chickens, watering the flowers and vegetable garden, taking out the trash, sweeping the floor, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning the bathrooms, mowing, weed-wacking, grocery shopping, etc, etc. You get the point.

Then delegate. Lucky for me, my kids are all grown and three of them still live at home, so that made it pretty easy. But figure out what people in your life will be able to help. Friends, relatives, neighbors, folks in your church. And there's always hired help if you can afford it. Know that whatever list you come up with will probably be very fluid, as life has a way of changing your best laid plans, so be flexible. Also, recovery is not an all or none timeline. You will gradually be able to take on more tasks as time goes by, and of course that will change the list, too.

MEALS
I knew I was not going to be able to lift more than eight pounds for many weeks, and would have very low endurance. So I wanted to have some meals at the ready that my kids could pull out of the freezer and heat up for dinner.

Pinterest is a great source of ideas for this kind of thing. I did a bunch of bulk cooking one day and knocked out over a dozen meals. Some were complete casseroles in aluminum
pans, some were a mix in a freezer Ziplock bag, which is great for saving on freezer space. Here are some of the things I prepped:
Storage bags: taco meat, sloppy Joes, spaghetti sauce, chili
Casseroles: chicken spaghetti, fritattas, shepherd's pie, mac-n-beef, baked ziti

Anyway, that's all I can think of for now.

Tune in next time for my thoughts on what's helpful while you're in the hospital.

20-20 Vision

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Tue, 31 Dec 2019 16:20:00 +0000

As of tomorrow, we will have a new month, new year, new decade.

While it won't necessarily be a clean slate for me, when I look back on the past decade, it comes pretty darn close.

Because, lemme tell ya', the twenty-teens and pre-teens were a bitch.

There were so many many things going on in my life and the lives of my children.

A short list, in no particular order...

driving lessons, marital troubles, homework battles, college, counselling, new kids in the family, soccer games, high school, surgeries for the kids, surgeries for myself, IEP meetings, braces, hormones, graduations, teenage relationships, animal acquisitions, animal deaths, children moving in (sometimes not my own), children moving out, new old friends, middle school, divorce, proms, downsizing, building fences, building chicken coops, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, runaway ponies, moving, mental health issues, re-entering the work force, death of my mother, Residential Treatment Programs, changing jobs, new old name...

I honestly don't know how I made it out alive.

But here I am, alive and well.

More grey hair than a decade ago.

Healthier in many ways than I was a decade ago.

Ok, parts of my body are literally falling apart and in need of replacement, but that aside...

So with all the change, did anything stay the same?

Yes.

Resoundingly, yes.

My own inner strength and stability.

God in my corner.

Children and animals all around me.

My own unique, creative perspective. It is mine alone. Everyone has their own, I get to claim mine and I will be forever grateful for it.

Hope.

Love.

This time ten years from now, I will be on the cusp of 65.

An empty-nester (except for maybe Bella?).

Retired (in the name of all that is good and holy, please).

By the grace of God, still in my beautiful home, petting the ears of a dog as I sit by the fire (as I am at the moment), gathering eggs, and enjoying creative pursuits. Only not all at the same time.

As long as my things-that-stay-the-same list.... you know.... stays the same, I can weather whatever the twenty-twenties throw at me. I've seen worse.

So bring it.

You Can Take the Girl Out of the Funny Farm....

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Tue, 05 Nov 2019 22:00:00 +0000

You can take the girl out of the funny farm, but it seems you can't take the funny farm out of the girl.

A couple of years ago, I posted that I was closing up shop on my Funny Farm blog. Because of life changes.

Like divorce.
Like moving.
Like saying goodbye to all the farm animals.

Well, here it is two years later. I am in a home about a third the size of my old one. I am on an acre, as compared to the seven acres on the farm.

And so I thought I was done with all things Funny Farm.

But I was wrong. It just won't leave me without a fight. Not the Funny. Not the Farm.

SO I'M BACK!

I think?

I had started another blog to showcase some of my creative pursuits. Birdsong Bits and Pieces.

And although I enjoy it, there was always a piece of me that missed my Funny Farm blog. So I think I want to try to get back to it. Not to sound cheesy, but it was like home.

OK, that was pathetically, ridiculously cheesy. My apologies.

Anyway, with all that being said, allow me to illustrate why I said the Funny Farm isn't giving up without a fight.
And I promise I will go back and fill in the blanks later about my new place and my Amish neighbors, and where I am with kids and critters, but here is what happened this morning.

*clears throat*

My son woke up and looked out the window to see the neighbor's cow staring in at him.

Consequently, I woke up to my son knocking on my door to let me know the cow was in our yard and he (my son, not the cow) had to leave for school.

Sadly, this steer is being raised to feed the neighbor and his brood, so the only name he has is "Jersey" (which is, surprise, surprise, his breed. No points for creativity).

I said "Good morning, Jersey, what are you doing here?"
He just looked at me and peed.
It's an effect I have on some, I don't know what to tell you.

He thought briefly about making a run for it, but then remembered what a good back scratcher I am.

I really am, it's true.

So after a little scritch-scratchin', he allowed me to fashion this leash into a heifer halter. OK, I know he's a steer, but heifer halter has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

My daughter went to Penn State (before transferring to Temple) for a year and all I got was this lousy dog leash.
Sheesh.

As it turns out, Jersey has not been halter trained.
Nor leash trained.
Nor don't eat the neighbor's roses trained.

Son: "Are you sure you've got this?"

Me: "I'm not sure of anything!"

"Come on Jersey. You can do this."

We made it to the gate! We're home free!

Right?

Just...
A few more....
Steps.....

And one big push.

He's in!

I shut the gate.
Chained it.
Reclaimed my leash.

Walked around the field to look for where he got out. Found an open gate, so I shut and chained it, too.
My work here is done.

Not too shabby,

This was before coffee.

So yeah.

Like I said, you can take the girl out of the Funny Farm...

Funny Farm For Sale

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Thu, 08 Jun 2017 20:19:00 +0000

Our home has not found a new owner yet, so I thought I'd repost this. Who's looking for their dream home???

The Funny Farm's story is coming to a close.
Due to life changes, I will be turning my beloved home and farm over into the hands of a new caretaker.

In other words, house for sale.

Please take a minute to look over the pictures of my wonderful home and think about whether you would like to make it your own. If owning it yourself is not possible, maybe you know someone who is looking for this exact type of thing. You know, a place in the country with Amish neighbors, a house oozing with character and charm and history, an old farm house with room to spare and a pond and fruit trees and a barn.

So be a dear and share.

Here she is. The original stone part of the house is about 200 years old, but about 30 or so years ago, the rest of the house was torn down and built anew, so you get the charm of yesteryear with more modern conveniences like closets and indoor plumbing.
This old house has been a working farm, as well as a bed and breakfast. Several of the original farm-owner's descendants live right down the road. Our Amish neighbors have an honor-box produce stand across from our property, and from time to time go fishing or ice-skating at our pond.
This house has great income potential as an Air BNB, horse-boarding, or bed and breakfast inn.
Within an hour's drive you can visit the Brandywine Valley, rich in history and Andrew Wyeth art, the world-famous Longwood Gardens, Philadelphia and Baltimore. In two to three hours you can get to the DE, MD or Jersey shores, Washington, DC, New York, and the Poconos. It is located on the outskirts of the darling and up and coming small town of Oxford, PA, with art galleries, antiques shops, coffee shops and restaurants. Oxford is in southern Chester County, PA, and is near the state lines of both DE and MD, and about halfway between Lancaster and Philly.

The original homestead was about 150 acres, but it was subdivided about the time that the house was redone.
The house now sits on 3.87 acres with a pond and barn. It has 7 bedrooms, 4 full baths, and 5700 square feet. The master bedroom has his and hers offices, and there is a large home office on the first floor, as well. There is a walk-up, floored attic and a full, partially-finished, walk-out basement. Central air was put in shortly after we moved in, and propane heats the hot water baseboards, stove/oven, and hot water. There is also a whole-house generator run on propane, so you never have to worry about losing power.
We also own the adjoining 3 acres with road front, backing to woods and a small creek. That is available as well, sold separately.

Here is the front porch, with second floor balcony off the master bedroom.

This is the other porch, which overlooks pond and pasture.

The pond has plenty of Sunnies and Bass, so be sure to pack your fishing poles!

The barn is quite versatile. The front portion you see is where we park a car, the tractor, and all lawn mowers, weed wackers, etc. Beyond that is the workshop, and leading into the pasture in the back is the barn proper. It does not have stalls in it, but it would be very easy to make it into a center aisle barn with stalls on both sides. Currently one side is built into a large chicken coop and rabbit pen. The part of the barn jutting out to the right is what we call the "kid's garage", and it's where you can find all the bikes, balls, outdoor games, and all that.

There is also a one-car garage under the house.

The little well you see there? The real deal. It used to be the functioning well for the property many years ago, and there is water down there that can be tapped into for watering the plants during times of drought if you wish.

Here we are inside the house. This is the cozy family room with wood-burning stove and wide-plank wood floors.

The farm kitchen has an industrial stove with two ovens, six burners, a large griddle perfect for Sunday morning pancake breakfasts, and a broiler tray. The former owners found this the perfect thing when they were running their bed and breakfast, "The Stonewall Inn".
The plentiful barn wood cabinets and the tile countertops make for a very functional and yet cozy kitchen.

The working coal stove is a nice touch, too. You can actually cook on it, if you so desire.

This view looks past the eat-in area of the kitchen with built-in bench, into the dining room. The doorway from the dining room leads into the game room where the kids save the universe in video games, or play chess, or hop on the computer. The near door is one of two leading from the kitchen into the family room.

The dining room is perfect for entertaining, with plenty of room and gorgeous views of the pond and land.

This is the entry room and home office, with kid's study area.

Our coat room/pet room/catch-all room. One of the most functional areas of the house. Kind of messy, I know, but so nice having a spot for all the coats, shoes, boots, pet food, hats, mittens, you name it. And I can close the door and pretend it's not there!

Speaking of functional rooms, how about this pantry? You can't see it in this picture, but there are two aisles, a full refrigerator and a freezer. I have been known to direct my kids to finding the item they're looking for by saying, "Aisle 1, right side, top shelf". I moonlight as a grocery store manager.

First floor full bath.

One of the original parts of the house, the library is rich in character with unique brick floors, beamed ceilings, stone walls....

....and incredible stone fireplace.

Upstairs you will find seven, count 'em SEVEN bedrooms. Each are large enough to hold a king-sized bed, and all have walk-in closets. One of the bedrooms (aside from the master) is also en-suite.

Located just off the master bedroom, my favorite room in the house is my sewing room. Inspired by my grandmother Big Mama, this is where the creativity happens! Whether I'm sewing, painting, or just kicked back on the couch reading or dreaming, it's my peace place.

The master bath has a large soaking tub, dual vanities, and roomy walk-in shower.

I challenge you to find a bigger, more tranquil master bedroom than this. I love it. I love it, love it, love it.

Don't you?

The man cave. Right off the master. Isn't it amazing? Old wood floors, cathedral beamed ceilings, stone walls and stone gas fireplace. Lie back on the couch with a fire burning, listen to a horse and buggy clip-clop down the road just outside the window, and be transported back in time.

And now, for a few shameless farm-love shots.
The old silo is covered in wisteria, and is a sight to behold in the springtime.

Quackly, quackly! Contact Anne at farmbeachgal@yahoo.com to let her know you're in love with her house! She'll answer any questions and invite you to come take a look-see for yourself.

Fledgeling Etsy Shop

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Tue, 29 Mar 2016 15:40:00 +0000

Birdsong Bits and Pieces has a fledgeling Etsy shop. Not much there now, but looking to grow!

A Post to Check Out

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Fri, 04 Mar 2016 15:45:00 +0000

Do you go "thrifting"? If so, check this out on Birdsong Bits and Pieces:

Thrifting Thursday

Come on Spring!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Sun, 28 Feb 2016 01:57:00 +0000

Springtime creations over at Birdsong Bits and Pieces!

Check Out This New Blog!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Mon, 22 Feb 2016 15:40:00 +0000

Birdsong Bits and Pieces

Hope you'll like it!

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Sun, 31 Jan 2016 15:57:00 +0000

Yesterday I was sweaty.
I was sore.
I was teary.
I was at times speechless.

Why?

It's all because of my friends.

See, I am in the process of trying to get my house ready to sell.

I know that might come as a shock to many of you, but it's true. The Funny Farm will be no longer.
In fact, all the farm animals have been rehomed, and we are left with only a handful of cats and dogs. Big change from where we were at the peak of farmdom.

But yes, due to some life changes and the fact that the kids are reaching the "grown and flown" stage, I am downsizing. I will likely be moving on to a house roughly a third to half the size of the one I've been in for the last 11 years.

So for probably over a year now, the kids and I have been working on this old house.

Painting, ripping up carpet, tearing down wallpaper, changing out curtains, changing out rugs.
Putting in new light fixtures, installing new flooring.
Cleaning out the barn, the garages, the workshop, the basement.
Filling dozens and dozens and dozens of bags and boxes for Goodwill, for trash, for sale on my local Facebook yard sale site. Filling to the brim one of those giant construction yard dumpsters with rubbish.

I have hired professionals to fix and paint the deck, pressure wash the house and porches, fix broken stuff galore.

And now I'm down to the nitty gritty. And I'm down to the wire. I have set a date with my realtor to come take pictures and get this house listed.

And all of a sudden, when I thought there remained only a few details to take care of, I realized how much more needed to be done.

I found there still remained a handful of drywall holes, and already patched holes that needed to be painted. There were leaky shower heads and non-functioning lights. There were large items that needed to be moved, and cabinet pulls that needed to be put on, and flaking paint that needed to be touched up, and caulking, lots of caulking. Plus ceilings and even whole rooms that should be painted. There were errant paint marks (more than I care to admit to) on wood trim throughout the house. Basically if you were a piece of wood trim within 30 yards of a room we were painting, you got paint on you.
What else.... baseboard radiators that were falling apart or rusty or both. Chimney flanges that needed to be replaced, speakers dangling from the wall, broken heat units, broken windows....

Enter my friends.
They have been an enormous source of support for me over the last few years: listening, advising, hugging, wine-pouring, card-sending, shoulder-lending.
And now, paint-brush yielding. Drill-swinging. Hammer-holding.

They gave up their day off to come over yesterday with tool boxes and paint clothes. They took my lists and went room to room fixing up my house for me. They went above and beyond my expectations, doing so much more than I had asked.

I did my best to answer questions, find supplies, pour wine, scrape paint, hug, kiss, laugh, put out munchies, bring ladders.

So like I said,
I was sweaty.
I was sore.
I was teary.
I was at times speechless.

Theresa,
Tim,
Sue,
Mike,
Susan,

Thank you.
With all my heart,
Thank you.

You are, quite literally, Godsends in my life.

Wordless Wednesday - Holding Hands

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 18 Nov 2015 12:00:00 +0000

I'm in Business

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Wed, 18 Nov 2015 01:26:00 +0000

Today was a heady day for me.

I took my creations of barn wood and old horse tack and Christmas greens, and bottles and little bits of this and that over to a local consignment shop.

I didn't even take the stuff out of the car, because I thought they might not be interested. I was already planning which shops I could get to next before it was time to pick the kids up.

Picture me walking up the steps with head hung low, with my fingers in an "L" on my forehead.

I told the ladies they should just come out to the car to take a look, rather than carry everything in and then back out again.

But when I opened the back of my little wagon?

They just about exploded with joy.

Those kind ladies from Rooted Ooohed and Aaahed. They exclaimed, they fawned. They swelled my head to about 10x its original size.

They. Took. Everything.

They helped me price everything, and I signed a contract. They asked me to bring them some tags for my items, and to set up an Instagram account.

And now? I'm in business.

Well, kinda-sorta. I just have some pieces in a consignment shop, but it was a big moment for me, let me tell you.

Here are a few pictures of some of my pieces. Hope you like them!

Having So. Much. Fun.

noreply@blogger.com (Anne Birdsong) — Fri, 13 Nov 2015 02:14:00 +0000

Maybe it's because I've recently become addicted to Flea Market Flip.

Or maybe it's because I'm sick and tired of constantly working on home improvement stuff, but yet still want to do something. Something artistic or creative or funky.

Or cash?
Could be the cash.

Anyway, whatever the reason, I've recently started making some crafty things. And selling them.

Much of it is horsey stuff, cuz, you know, Funny Farm.

For instance, I took an old stirrup and turned it into a Christmas door hanging.

I turned some snaffle bits into doorknob hangers.

And another bit into a toilet paper holder.

Spruced up a few old jars.

And a few other projects, some already sold, some still looking for buyers, some still classified as Work In Progress.

Is it wrong to enjoy myself so much when engaged in elementary school work playing with scissors and glue? Because I truly am enjoying myself. I want to do it all the time. Like quit my day job and ditch the dining room table for a proper workshop, and start an Etsy shop and become the most profitable seller Etsy's ever seen, and have Martha call me for advice and....

Huh.

Maybe I've been using a bit too much glue.