Fifteen Days Later

I found a childhood portrait of AC (my husband), painted in 1961 by his uncle, William Moise, in a closet as I was cleaning. I probably need to get is looked at. There are spots and tears in the paper on the back.

The kids, Eron and his wife Meredith, helped me clean the bedroom. We moved the nightstand he, AC, hit when he fell out of bed to my side and put mine on his side. Mine has rounded corners. Not that it would have mattered; the area has become a small memorial to him.

I am grateful for the support shown by friends and acquaintances. I made sure to acknowledge every card.

Co-workers Penny and Travis brought me yummy food. Shopping and cooking have yet to make it to my agenda.

I tried to drive to Cobb county for the East Cobb Quilter's Guild show yesterday, but sadly didn't get very far before I was overwhelmed. I got off the highway and drove to Planned Pethood. I'd gotten an e-mail from them saying they needed people to come pet, and perhaps foster, some kittens. Kittens would surely cheer me up; they cheer everyone up, so I thought I'd foster a litter. 

They were closed, so I sat in the parking lot and sobbed to Mom. She said "go home and clean your sewing room." I got my quilt book shelf cleaned up, but the sewing room might be too much for me right now.

A few days ago, I found a beautiful bowl for $3 at Marshalls. It makes a great place to store my glasses next to the chair in my reading corner. This was formerly where he and I sat to watch TV. My Jasper secretary replaced his leather recliner when we cleaned up. It was too much to have it empty beside me. I also have not watched much TV.

Yes, Mom, that is my new lamp, and it still has the cellophane on the shade.

The bed has new linens.

I don't remember being alone. 

You get used to it.

Other women tell me.

It must be so.

Rest In Peace

Andrew Crittenden Thomas

March 27, 1950-May 31, 2013

You will be missed.

Grape hyacinth and cream colored roses. My wedding bouquet was cream colored roses and grape hyacinth.

 Things have gone inexplicably wrong at the hospital. He had one great day, and it looked like stroke recovery would go well. 

This Memorial Day weekend my husband is on a respirator and feeding tube in ICU.

 It turns out the nutsy stuff I used to shake my head over was probably due to dementia. I'd recently insisted he go to a doctor. He went but would not allow me in the room. I suspect he was not completely honest with the doctor. 

I told him we needed to get through whatever changes were happening to him in the best way we could and he needed to get medical help. He knew something was wrong. He had tremor in his hands and was scared for me to go anywhere. He said "What if something happens to me?" I made him an appointment with a psychologist to discuss his reluctance to seek medical help. I thought to myself that if  he was going to have Alzheimer's or Parkinson's we could manage our way through it with medical help.

He was not able to make the appointment because of the stroke. In the space of a week the nurses could not believe he was the same patient. On Tuesday walking (with assistance), holding food, getting a drink with straw to his mouth, talking (nonsense, but for the most part with a great vocabulary); each day he lost something. Each day. The next Tuesday he had lost the ability to do any of those things and more. This is day 17. On day 15 he had trouble breathing, so they took him back to ICU.

Rapidly progressing neurodegenerative disease. 

He is finally resting peacefully with the assistance of heavy sedation. I don't know what will happen. I only know what the doctor's tell me, and I cannot get my mind around it.

Windsor again

I have a few more photos from my Windsor, ON day that I want to share. These are from my walk along the waterfront.

When you get past the flower filled park there is a tour boat. As I was snapping these photos, the "captain" invited me aboard to view the entire photo gallery and history of the vessel. I declined. Woman traveling alone and not getting into confined space with stanger.

I love industrial stuff. Seriously, on a boat tour of the Savannah River, I just loved seeing how/where behind-the-scenes stuff gets done. I was breathing in the scent of industry, and, despite concern for my  lungs, absolutely loved it.

 I'm not at all sure what they are or were, but aren't  they magnificent? If I'd payed more attention in physics class I would have thought lever and counter weight. Maybe?

 Every trip has its fun bit; this was one of mine. Yippee:

 I am glad I was warned; sheesh, are they not adorable?

 The Richard Gere looking one in the polo shirt "chatted me up." His friends probably won't let him forget it either. Well, I have to thank him. I hadn't had that much pleasant conversation with a handsome (younger) man, who was not a son, in forever. It really made my day. 

Speaking of men, my husband had a stroke a week ago. It has been an exhausting and confusing week for me. Yesterday he took a turn for the better. He was able to string together a few words for the first time. They were "Oh Karmen goddammit!" The nurse says "Oh you are the one he hollars for all night." That'd be me.

Yep, he'll be back to his old charming self before long. First he will be transferred to a nursing home for rehabilitation. I don't think he will be there long.

Rochester and Windsor

When I left the Ricky Tims show, I drove to the shopping district in Rochester, MI.

The sidewalk had many delightful decorative concrete inserts. These are two I found especially attractive.

Dad has made some pretty cool concrete items like an awesome mill stone set into the backyard. Perhaps he can create something like these, or even better, show me how.

From Michigan I drove to Windor, Ontario. I went through the Windsor Tunnel and showed my shiny new passport to the border officer. He asked a lot of questions and was NO NONSENSE. It was a bit scary.

That was not, however, the scariest moment. I discovered my GPS didn't know what Canada was. I figured I could make my  way to the Hilton, since on Mapquest I could clearly see the Caesar's hotel and casino would be on my left and the Hilton on the right. Not a problem, except I was ejected from the border area right into the city. I did not expect to be in the dark in a district of bars and hoochee-coochee dance establishments.

So I had to think and not panic. The hotel was on the river,  so how darn hard could  it be to find? Plus it is a fairly tall building. I found it right in front of the bus station. Woo-hoo! Once I found the parking garage, I had to walk in a very lonely, smelly tunnel to the hotel, but once in the room I was greeted by a fabulous 180 degree view of the Detroit skyline.

And the next morning I witnessed a fabulous sunrise. The three tall building (lit up above) are the GM buildings. 

I went for an early morning walk in the park along the river.

 Pink and red tulips.

 Pools of color were everywhere.

Orange tulips and sunny yellow daffodils (jonquils?).

 I tried to get a panoramic view of the river of red tulips.

The park was wonderfully laid out with all manner of evergreen shrubs and trees and artfully placed granite boulders. (exuse the coffee cup, I am too tired to edit)

After my walk I had to go back to my room to say good bye to the view. One of the GM towers is on the right.

I feel pretty guilty right now. I came home from the hospital around 3 yesterday to take care of my dogs. They had been locked up in the bathroom since 6 in the morning. The drive to hospital is about an hour, depending on traffic. Atlanta traffic can be brutal. I called the hospital to check on him before I went to bed (I tried to go to sleep at 6 p.m.), since they planned to move him to a regular room from the ICU, but they were having a shift change, so they asked me to call back. Later, when I got the nurse on the phone, she sounded like she'd been dealing with a challenge. They had indeed moved him into a regular room, and she said he was jumping out of bed, pulling out his lines, and kicking them, so they had to tie his legs to the bed too. She said he yelled for me over and over.

I felt like there was nothing I would be able to do to make it better if I drove all the way back. He was delerious and begging to go home all day yesterday while I was there. The nurses had pulled him up out of bed to demonstrate to him that he cannot stand up and walk yet.

The brain bleed is over, but the medicines they had to give him to get cooperation for the MRI  (it took three tries to get it) have really dealt him a set back. I don't know what I will deal with when I go down there today. I know I have to go back to the hospital. I have been reading about hospital psychosis on the internet. Having family around seems to help patients re-connect with reality.

He is at Emory University Hospital. Guess what? Today is graduation on the Emory campus and they already have a massive traffic jam in the area. I will wait a little longer to leave home. If the graduation attendees get situated, I can go to the valet parking and let them find my car a spot. Still, I am apprehensive about getting stuck in the mess (on top of everything else).

Michigan raffle quilt

I had a wonderful time in Rochester, Michigan at the Ricky Tims Super Quilt Seminar.

All the quilt Ricky Tims and Alex Anderson had in their show were wonderful. This, however, is not one of them. This is a raffle quilt. That's right, A RAFFLE QUILT. The drawing will be October 30, 2013 at 6:30 p.m. at the Davison Senior Center, 10135 Lapeer Rd. I bet you could track someone down in the Evening Star Quilter's Guild if you'd like a chance to win.

I have a little more to share with you about my trip, but right now I am tired and need to take a little nap  before heading back to the hospital. Let me explain. My husband was thrashing around in bed and I heard a thud and he hit the floor. I said "honey are you okay," but he kept on snoring. I went around to his side of the bed and shook him and yelled at him to wake up but he didn't. I went to get the phone to call 911, but then he stood up. He was dizzy and didn't know what happened. Off we went to the hospital. There they transferred him to a hospital in the city (Emory University). Since he was on blood thinners the bleed was pretty good in his head, but not in his brain that they can tell. Tomorrow they may do more tests.

It's always something. I am exhausted, so I am going to try to nap here at home then beat the traffic back into the city in the morning.

Time for thinking

At the last meeting of Silver Thimble Quilt Club I worked on this little primitive piece Mom gave me. I think she'd tired of it and was thinking of tossing it (or at least tossing it aside). Of course I rescued it and will love it.

It is spring here in the South, so I brought out my happy shoes. I work real hard at happy. Sometimes too hard and it doesn't feel natural.

So, as a diversion, I went to the library. Wow! Carson McCullers is an amazing writer. I'd heard the titles before, but I'd never read her. I am totally a Mick-type from The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. The story does not inspire happy thoughts, but deep reflective ones.

My doctor, a general practioner, suggested I read Shattered Dreams by Larry Crabb, since he, the doctor, thinks my heart and soul are suffering, but he prescribed medicine too just in case I have low dopamine which he says can lead to Parkinsons. Yup, that visit was a ball of fun.

It seems to me Mr. Crabb conveys that suffering (a word which is a little strong for the depression I wrestle with) is a blessing, and we should embrace it as God's plan. Okie-dokie then. I'm all good. Really, I have a great life, and I think I feel guilty at not displaying more heart-felt joy at the amazing diversity of experiences granted me in this incarnation.

I have a collection of small books that once belonged to my grandmother, Dulca Leon Stockton. They were produced in the publishing buildings at the church I grew up attending. The date above her signature is just a few months after I was born (more than 55 years ago). I love that she wrote her thoughts all over the book. I tend to the same habit in my own books.

She used to work around her house singing "I've got the joy joy joy joy, Down in my heart, Down in my heart, Down in my heart." (Click on the words for the full lyrics.) I'm gonna give singing it a try. If you run into a crazy woman mumbling lyrics under her breath, it might be me; please don't judge. We are all just doing our best to get along on the dusty, and sometimes mucky muddy, path under our feet.

Fabric hoarding, whoops, I mean collecting

When I posted photos of my shop-hop fabric acquisitions, Mom spied the yellow piece I'd found and decide she wanted some too, so I went back to Red Hen and got her some yardage. While there  I spied some delightful square dance fabric in the sale room. By the way, I love their sale room.

I remember being hauled to square dances when I was a kid during Mom & Dad's brief facination with the country dance genre.

On Friday, after the East Cobb Quilters' Guild meeting, I was lucky enough to go to a Quilter's Garage Sale! By the way, if you are in the area (Atlanta), you will want to attend the ECQG quilt show (info on their website), and purchase a raffle ticket. Joe Cunningham says "its the best raffle quilt he has ever seen." I cannot think of a better endorsement than that.

Mom wanted to see what I found at the garage sale, so the rest of this post are photos of my treasures.

Some vintage Brannock & Patek

 Lovely florals.

 I totally love black and tan!

 Some whimsical primitive fabrics. 

And fun brights.

 If you look closely at these unbleached and bleached pieces, you will see the pantograph design on them. I have some ideas how I will use them. Not sure when though. Next weekend I am flying up to Detroit to the Ricky Tims Quilt Seminar. 

The most exciting find at the Quilter's Garage Sale is 6 yards of Blackbird Designs sampler print fabric. I'd say I scored big during my birthday week. 

Good food, bad triglycerides

I only take pictures of the healthy food I eat.

Squash, onions and carrots with brown rice, asparagus and blue potatoes.

On the morning I made the lovely breakfast above my husband chose to have Rice Krispies with hot water on them (we were out of milk). He is a vegetable hater. He says his heart doctor has warned him not to eat "salad" because of his Coumadin.

Stawberries with blue potatoes cut in half; the insides are blue too!

So hubby, the heart patient, eats mostly cheeseburgers, fries, chocolate shakes, Snickers bars, and the aforementioned Rice Krispies. Oh, and he also takes about 20 pills a day. To each his own I reckon.

I have been mostly eating healthy for about two years now. I no longer need blood pressure medication, nor allergy medicine, I no longer have IBS, nor acid reflux. Thank you Doctors Leeth and Fuhrman.

Imagine my surprise when, on my 55th birthday, I recieved a call from Dr. Leeth's office, not to congratulate me on my relative longevity and revitalised health, but to say my blood results were back and they want to retest in a month because my triglycerides are WAY too high (like 400).

Totally busted. My penchant for onion rings, Tiramisu and Filet of Fish (all mostly vegetarian, right?) is a secret no more. My risk of heart attack and stroke should absolutely scare me into following ALL of the doctors directions, not just the easier ones.

Let's move on to something fun. See Kitten's paw poking through the hole in the box?

Joey sees it too.

They were so funny playing in the box. Why spend big bucks on cat towers when an empty box will do?