Margm

Kay, when I was a kid my mom smothered venison steaks and they were delicious. Also, my dad thought he would feel better drinking goats milk, so we entered, in a small way, having a goat farm. We got our cow's milk in bottles left on the porch by the milk truck. Mama switched goat milk in one of those bottles. Honestly, the steak was delicious, and the goat milk was sweet, very good. I was of the age I didn't want to eat Bambi's mama or dad. I became a complete vegetarian for a long time. We had a wildlife festival at a reservoir/reservation once a year. Kelli, as a tween tried all the kinds of meat they offered except Nutra. For a long time, I wouldn't eat anything but chicken and smoked turkey. The thing was, I didn't know I was eating venison or drinking goats' milk and they thought it was funny my reaction. Didn't trust them after that. Of course, Billy, my mom and dad all grew up eating wild animal meat. A guy I sat by in Walmart waiting for my sister told me about all the ways he cooked racoon now.

We had a cat named "Peaches." Kelli had bottle fed her when working as assistant manager/nurse at an assisted living facility. Mama cat would not feed her, didn't want her. This was not an inside cat. She'd sit on the window and cry. The adventures this cat went through would make a children's book. I cannot count the number of "fixes" she'd get in to. We had bears that would eat the grubs out of a downed tree, at night. They were seen in daytime, but I only saw two of them. Arkansas bears looked like a snub tail very fat big dog. She lived a very long time and got out of scrapes that she had no food or water for a while. (Up a huge tree). But, as the song goes, "the cat came back." She was her own cat, did not care about the loving and cuddling. She did not like the big possum that ate her food each night. So, we closed the carport doors at night and found out a very fat possum had decided it was his home too. They lived in unison until we found possum scat everywhere. He didn't want to leave. One time in his elderly years Billy had to kill an animal. He was heartbroken. A man I talked to at Walmart told me how good they were to eat, and raccoons too. The wildest game I ever would willingly eat were the fish we caught. Now my mom and her siblings fought over who ate the squirrel brains. Billy once (in much younger years) killed a wild pig. Mama and Billy dressed it out and put it in butcher paper and froze it. I didn't eat it, but they said it was horrible. Fed mostly on acorns. Acorns are pretty, but I don't think humans will eat them.

It is just an eye drop for after the surgery. If it is contact lens, they are permanent. I just got the regular ole lens that my insurance pays.

I did. One was prescription and you bought two bottles (tiny), one bottle per eye. I kept letting them supply me with the "green" topped bottle but learned it was OTC "Refresh, for contact lens" and I guess that was for the new lens. I still buy that kind. Not to put a bad thing for the millions who are so satisfied, I had the "most famous" doctors in Shreveport, also the very most expensive. It was almost like going to the oral surgeon and him turning me away because I would not get "screw in" teeth. The first visit I paid $300, and my insurance never required me to do that. Then I was given the different "plans." I could have the regular lens, but then the next special lens that were $1000 per eye (and was told insurance did not cover this.), the next was $2000 lens per eye and I think there was a $3,000 lens per eye ($6000 total) not covered by insurance. Like most people, I only wanted regular lens. Going to be 82 in August, and if it kept me reading for the length of time I have left, I was happy. Even at my age, I never had visible bags under my eyes. I do now. But again, maybe before the surgery I just couldn't see them. I am happy to keep on reading, so looks do not really matter as I shake too bad to put on makeup, and really, any old barn looks better with a coat of red paint. When we were finished, I was told I no longer needed glasses. I do still use reading glasses, just not strong ones. My eyes feel irritated if I read too long (and this ole gal reads a long time.) I'm actually afraid to quit reading, with my mom having Alzheimer's, and I still take Xanax (to sleep), and have been warned it adds to dementia. I feel as long as I can comprehend what I am reading, I'm okay. Sometimes with family issues, and I think I am a direct descendent of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, family problems are so prevalent I feel like I am on the saddle of a tall mountain and one more push will be on the side of dementia. And believe me, I am not trying to make a joke of this. Also, when I went in for my follow-ups, there were so many waiting that had had the expensive lens implanted and were having trouble. I'm not trying to put down the lens (well, I guess I am), but at my age, all I want to do is to see and not be blind. I can do that.

Congratulations. Just keep on with those drops.

I will be dead if I don't. I fight below the level of diabetes on every four-month lab work. I sure don't do it for fun. I miss raw vegetables, especially celery and have not had a wonderful salad in 10 years. Do you possibly use men's thick gloves to do all that work? Makes it harder to do but might lessen the injuries.

Kevin, is this what happens every year? You have massive snow (water) and then you have massive fires? We have massive flooding. I guess strange things happen wherever you live. I did love those water coolers in Albuquerque, and probably around Karen's home. But, the takeaway was it took water and water was not in high supply. They were so comfortable to sleep in at night, and I think Albuquerque is about 5,000 feet. Maybe more. I remember the doctors having people with heart trouble moving to lower levels. And, I'm on here trying to kill time to face the day and people with their petty gripes and fusses. Mama cannot choose sides anymore. So both get angry at Mama. Good. Means I don't have to talk to them.

As you know, my diet is high in carbs. I can have meat protein. The only vegetables I can have are potatoes, green beans, cooked carrots, cooked/pickled beets, and all the sweets I want as long as there are no nuts or seeds. I go to the doc every four months for lab work check and mostly blood sugar check. He realizes I cannot eat healthy. My mainstay is eggbeaters and instant grits. No corn whatsoever but can have grits and I have learned to make a "grits bread" from that. I fixed a potatoes, green beans, carrots and mushroom soup, HB meat, and beef broth soup last week that was actually good. I cut down on the size of it and had it two days. I hate to cook, and the frozen dinners all have seeds of some sort in them or corn. One day I just drank three Glucerna's. Probably the healthiest I have eaten. If I eat wrong, I suffer terribly. It is TMI to tell you how, but I do place a cross in my bathroom and say, "Please God, I promise not to eat that again." I have 13 crosses in my bathroom and have not had to add others in a long while. Propranolol helps my essential tremor, but my stay in the bathroom was four hours. I also had to cut out caffeine. Addict that I am, I miss that "lift" but cannot handle the shakes. My old reliable meds do not hurt me. Anything new heads to my gut and a prolonged stay in the essential room. Having a lot of (my kids) sibling rivalry and trouble right now. I do have to take care of my sister constantly, and my granddaughter is still here. Too much wear and tear on this nearly 82-year-old woman. I cannot run away from it. When I was fighting cancer in 1982, I had a lot of family troubles with my dad with cancer too. He was a mean cancer victim (like my sister) though and will have been gone 40 years day after tomorrow. Family troubles seem to be the norm with me, and I wrote that little ditty back then: "I'm not that important, life does go on, if I wasn't here then I'd be gone." Written out of pure exhaustion. I'm there again. And I'm still here. Gotta take my sister for surgery in south "big city" where all the traffic is. She will be impossible to handle, of course. But I am all she has, and we are our brother's keepers. As far as the LGBT (QRS) and whatever letters they add, you just live and let live and thank God it was not something you ever wanted to be. ADDENDUM: Kay, listen to Karen!!!!!

Marty, I hope I don't get thrown off. Sorry folks, my vocational aspirations were just above the floor. Spent 43 years in medical transcription, and loved it.

I have a sister who is bi. She told me it was wonderful and the whole world was open. That was many years ago. Then, my daughter has gay vibes, sometimes I'm positive, sometimes I'm even more positive. My friend has a gay grandson, and she said you hate the sin but love the sinner. I'm not on that level. I accept it. My nephew, Billy's sister's son is gay. I know it is a surprise to the older generation, like me. But, damn I do accept it. I never knew there was a choice, in fact, I'm afraid I would have liked to dance in the cages above the floor with white high boots and pasties. That was when we had the Whisk-A-Go-Go's. I had the figure to do it then, but I'd make more money at it now. Couldn't do that with a deacon father. So, actually nothing surprises me and I totally accept it.

I saw it on TV. That was how I wanted to see it.

All the bayous, creeks, rivers are overflowing. Wish we had an underground pipeline to send water to states that need it.

Billy and I never missed "Heartland." It is clean, interesting, and may show some of the United States, but think most all of the actors and the scenery is in Canada. It is beautiful. Try soft macaroni-and-cheese Karen. Marshmallow sweets too. I don't think any on the "keto" diet, but to live, I cannot eat anything on the keto diet. That colon rupture makes carbs mostly all I can eat. I sure miss my salads, celery, and those raw vegetable dips.

Have faith Karen. Your gums are getting tougher. Billy's Uncle Chan could eat cracked ice with his gums and corn on the cob. That oral surgeon (because I didn't want to shell out $9,000 for screw in's) told me to just leave my teeth out then. You will get a fit. Billy never had a moment's trouble with his, but we did start on a 900-mile one way vacation, and he had left his teeth at home. We had just got on interstate when he thought about them. We turned around. I could have not adapted to the screw-ins because I can only take antibiotics IM. Too much infection happens. You're in pain for a long time too, and then to hold them in they put denture coverings. No guarantee's either. For $9,000 I expected to at least get free oil checks.

It is my son's son. We helped with his care until he was 5-6 and he lived with us when he was 16. His dad lived with us too. His first, and only year, at the small country school he won the art award. He had promise as an artist, but I think the bipolar was handed down from my dad to my son, to my grandson. He was drug seeking at that time too. His dad took him to live with him, but my son was sober and his son was making it hard to stay sober, so he went back to where his mom had remarried and moved to California. She called me once and asked me not to send cash gifts because he bought dope with it. I understood. He has lived many years in this existence and somehow stayed alive. Out of one treatment center he told us he did not want to stay sober. It was his choice.

Still do not know where my grandson is. Beautiful, sweet boy/man. He knows to do something to go to jail for winter. Obviously has street smarts (or dumbs). In California. Love the pup. All we can do is worry. Found out he has a son, teenager now. The relatives who raised him do not want my son to meet him. My son understands. So many years we fought his own drug addiction. Hep C treatments nearly killed him, but he respected Billy enough to let us help him get away from his drug sources and take him to the VA when his gallbladder had grown to his liver. That was back when the treatments/chemo took 11 months. Some days it just warmed my heart to hear him snoring. I knew he was still alive. But now his own son's life haunts him every day. There is a song that the late Joe Diffie sang that reminds me of these problems. A stanza of it stands out: "So here's to all the soldiers Who have ever died in vain The insane locked up in themselves The homeless down on Main To those who stand on empty shores And spit against the wind And those who wait forever For ships that don't come in. I think of my grandson when I hear it.

I love it. Both of them.

He is still a very handsome fellow. I remember his baby picture that fitted his name. Thank you. Keep family close as you can. Sometimes they pull away on their own. Have not heard from my grandson in about a year, and he was in jail (for the winter). Somehow, long time druggies, if they are allowed to live long term, they find ways to take care of themselves. Not our choice. It is theirs. Breaks our hearts though. His dad thinks and worries every day, as I'm sure his mom does too. He is well into his 30's now though.

Well Kevin, sounds like you get along with everyone. Recent picture of Atlas, please.

So true Kay. (Can you believe it, only three words.) Had to add more to be "myself."

I had two oral surgeons walk out on me in my 70's. Not my 80's. One of those surgeons told me to just "try eating w/o your teeth." A woman covering Medicare follow-up came into the office after my quarterly visit and questioned me about a lot of things. Goes along with age, I'm sure. I do have a problem, sometimes, with the right word coming to mind (and will think of it later), but she was a few years younger than me, and she said she had that problem too. I can have eggs (hate them), so I eat omelet with Egg Beaters. (And I just went to the refrigerator to look at the name on the box.) Happens sometimes. Sometimes I can google a name, synonyms, etc. But I guess I'm running about the same as most 81-year-olds. I took my sister for chemo at 10:30, picked her up about 30 minutes later, took her to early vote (they wouldn't let her), and then traveled about 22 miles to my granddog's house to carry her heart medicine (she is 14), and an antibiotic I picked up yesterday. So far, other than the cataract trips, I've been able to do for myself. I think about you when I'm getting bread, them now having keto bread. My main problem is fiber. I was amazed I could have grits, it is corn. I can have no corn. Fiber should be part of my life, but unfortunately it is my pain in the belly. I've done it 10 years now, but I can still remember the taste of celery, coconut, pecans, lettuce, tomatoes (if I peel the tomato and take out seeds, I can have it). I drink decaf (tremors) coffee about once a week with Southern Pecan creamer and can have onion powder. We all manage what we have to manage.

Certainly not. They looked dead. I never put them in my mouth. What idiot thought (in a proper professional place) that this was even passible, especially after the huge cost. I've had two oral surgeons turn away from me because I would not have screw ins. I have to have injections of antibiotics. I cannot take the pills/capsules because of the "gut" rupture. (Honestly, who needs more pain at 81?) My diet mostly consists of carbs. Have every four month exams, blood work. Everything was fine, I'd lost eight pounds, below diabetic levels still. I've learned to fix grits (bread), only corn I can have. Can have most underground veggies, and can have spinach and green beans. (No onions!!!). Have not had a salad in 10 years. Not by choice. Every time I eat something wrong, my system/me pays for it. I always put a cross in my bathroom in remembrance of the pain. I have 13 of them now. Each life is different in uncanny ways.

Weird things do happen. Back in the 90's, I did have dental insurance. It paid the first thousand, I paid the second thousand. The place had a good reference and after waiting two weeks they showed my gray new teeth. No joking, no exaggeration, these were the color GRAY. Took two more weeks, maybe longer to get natural-colored teeth. It was a total joke. I wasn't laughing.

My dentist took x-rays and then sent me to an oral surgeon. My teeth each had a tumor that ate up the roots of the teeth and it was my first visitation by "tumors" and pathology. That was in about 1961 or 1962, so we were way behind the way things go now. They were all benign and I can only figure they must have been like the teratomas that Kelli has. I've forgotten so much now. I was a medical transcriptionist for 43 years, and even then, we were not calling them teratomas. But we sure learned how to spell all those things, (no spell check) so we looked them up in Dorland's Medical Dictionary. I don't think there was a one of us that didn't suffer from symptoms of some sort, and we all knew how to do our Kegel exercises when one of us typed it and yelled it out.

My first uppers were that way. My dentist hit the roof. He was a mild-mannered small-town dentist, and he called the place that fitted me and made them fix it.