The Headache Cure and Furniture Shopping

I’ve been plagued by headaches recently. I will tell Dr. Heartthrob soon. In the meantime, even though I think I know the culprit (a new medication), I consulted with Mr. Google. I stumbled on an article that suggested that having a cup of coffee with your Tylenol (Acetaminophen) would increase its effectiveness 40%. Well, okay then.

Not so fast…

Then I found another article (isn’t there always another article) that warned that drinking coffee with Tylenol could cause liver damage. Then I found yet another article about the second article that revealed that the study was done on people who consumed more than 20 cups of coffee a day or consumed high-powered  caffeine drinks that were equivalent to 20 cups. Good grief. The third article suggested that the media had hyped the information about the study. Oh, shucks! They’d never do that, would they? And who are these over-caffeinated people, and are they allowed to do simple tasks without supervision? I think this goes a long way to explaining those people who cut us off in traffic. I’d be picking lint off the ceiling if I ingested that much caffeine.

I consume very little caffeine. Almost none. I gave up caffeinated coffee years ago because of my heart. I never drink caffeinated beverages and that includes sodas. I do eat chocolate occasionally because… well… I am alive and chocolate must be consumed while one still lives. I did not make this up. It’s a rule.

I guess the consensus is that – if used once in a while – the prescribed dosage of acetaminophen taken with a cup of caffeinated coffee will most likely not send you into liver failure. I’m not a doctor, so do with this information what you will, but I do know two things: you can find an article online to support any theory you choose, and common sense is almost as good as having a medical degree.

In other news…

Furniture shopping hardly qualifies as news unless you haven’t been inside a furniture store for years. That would be me. I seriously need to do a mini overhaul on my house. It’s beginning to look like old people live here – a common pitfall for oldies. We tend to keep the same crap forever. My house is full of junk/antiques. I love them and have no intention of getting rid of them, but I suddenly see my house through a different lens. Things like sofas and rugs are in dire need of an update. The paint colors and curtains are fine, but my sofa is about 20-years-old.

Have you looked at new sofas lately? They are HUGE and so uncomfortable. They are made for NBA players. And the chairs that go with them are the size of mini sofas. If I manage to scoot back and get in a position where my back touches the back of the sofa, my feet don’t hit the ground. I’m not that short. I’m 5’6″.  I tested a few, and there was no support what so ever! As soon as my butt hit that cushion, it was like Alice falling down the rabbit hole; the whole thing enveloped me like a big ole suction cup. I would need someone to pry me out of the cushions if I bought something like that. Honestly, if H went to play golf, he’d find me still flailing around in that suction cup when he got home. I can’t imagine those huge things in my little house. I wish I’d taken pics. We went to three stores. There are other stores, and I will keep looking, but I see a trend here.

I think about spending money, and then I think about how fast it goes if you get sick, and then I think of something else. That’s probably why old people’s houses look like they do.

That’s all I got. Have a good one.


An Aunt Ruby Story

But first…

We went to Crystal’s on Sunday. Even though we talked on the phone or texted during last week, we didn’t have much time to see each other. Between my cardioversion and her son’s accident, there was a lot going on for both of us. Her son is improving. He’s still experiencing pain, but he stopped taking the heavy-duty pain medications and moved to OTC meds instead. The swelling has gone down in his face, and he’s recognizable now. Youth is an amazing thing. Crystal made a pot roast for us. Her house smelled so good. I was hungry the minute I walked in, and the potatoes – having soaked up the beef flavor – were the best I’ve ever tasted in a pot roast.

In other news…

We changed our Comcast plan this week. That’s what you do when you get tired of striking a match to a wad of cash every month. We got rid of the landline, too. High time. Aunt Ruby was the only one who called me on that number anyway. I told H that I needed to let her know immediately because I knew she would call and get the message saying that it had been disconnected. She would then worry and jump to Aunt Ruby-type conclusions, and let everyone in my old neighborhood know that my phone had been disconnected… not in a good way. LOL Darned if she didn’t call me the very day it was disconnected – only a couple of hours after service had been discontinued.

When she couldn’t reach me, it didn’t sit well with her. She called my cousin – her daughter – to tell her that my phone had been disconnected. :/ My cousin reassured her that we were fine and gave her my cell number. Let me just tell you, she was not thrilled with that “disconnected” message, and she was sure there was something to get to the bottom of. She was all a dither about the whole thing by the time she “tracked me down,” and asked, “Sweetheart, you know I’m only asking because I’m concerned, but why was your phone disconnected?”

She will be 89 in June. I hope my mind will be as resilient as hers. She still manages to keep all her stories straight (with only small embellishments and a sprinkle of premature conclusions here and there when spicing up is needed). I don’t know how anyone in my old neighborhood will know anything about anyone else’s private business when she’s gone. As we say in the South, she means no harm. I’ve written before about her talking “disease.” And fortunately everyone knows about it. That’s the advantage of living in the same place your whole life.  She is understood and accepted.

Oh, I almost forgot. I received my valentine from her yesterday. When she is gone, who will send me valentines through the mail telling me how much I’m loved? She’s irreplaceable… plus knows all my business even though I live 70 miles away from her. The FBI has nothing on Aunt Ruby. I wonder if she could get security clearance.


IMG_0875My DIL texted me a few minutes ago. My youngest grand, Miss L, started kindergarten this year. She and her classmates hit their 100-day milestone today. To celebrate, they dressed as old people. How cute is that idea?  IMG_0874She looks a little mean in that first pic and a little bossy in the last one. I wonder if that’s her impression of what old people are like (wonder who her inspiration is). Notice the lines drawn on her face to simulate wrinkles. Cracks me up. As always, my DIL is responsible for the costume and make up. She’s done some cool costumes over the years. My favorite was when my grandson was a pirate. I’ll have to find that pic.

They are so sweet when they are small. We can fix the lion’s share of their problems, and most of the time we can keep them safe from harm. When they get older, not so much. We’ve had another motorcycle accident in our family. Crystal’s youngest son lost control of the bike and hit a tree. It was raining so he didn’t have the shield down on his helmet. He has nine fractures in his face, a broken nose and two cracked ribs.  Crystal is beside herself. She’s pretty angry, too. She believes he was driving too fast for the weather conditions. He will be okay, but it will be a long recovery. This may save him from some of her wrath, but I doubt it. :/


Of Course We can be Friends. You Seem Very Nice.

The kids gave Alexa to us for Christmas. We’re still figuring out how to integrate her into daily life. 🙂 Wasn’t that fancy? “How to integrate her …” In other words, we’re trying to figure out what to do with her. My favorite thing she does is play any kind of music I want. I usually ask her to play classical when I’m on the computer. Our house is an open concept, and it’s lovely, really. When I don’t like a song, I say, “Next.” And she skips to another song. It’s nice to have someone to boss.  And then there are the silly questions we ask her. I asked her if she would be my friend. She said, “Of course we can be friends. You seem very nice.” She obviously doesn’t know me.

I’m not sure who’s inhabiting my son’s body lately, but after Christmas, out of the blue, he made a point of telling me that he was going to call more often. I thought that was nice, but I didn’t hold my breath. Well, by golly, he’s been calling me at least once a week. We have nice talks about whatever. He’s a good man. Even betta’ now that he calls his Mama.

On one of his calls, he asked me what kind of questions we ask Alexa. I told him that every morning I ask her what day it is, what the weather is, what are my next four reminders (appointments), and I get her to tell me a joke or riddle. He thought that was funny, and told me that there’s probably a list of old-people questions for Alexa somewhere. Impudent. I told him that I heard his Dad talking to her one day. He kept saying, “Alissa, Alissa…” Eventually, he wore her down and she actually answered. My son suggested changing her name to “Dad’s last girlfriend” before he met me. I vetoed that.

I’ve done nothing but sleep on-and-off for the past two days, but I woke this morning feeling well. I walked for five minutes, the first time I’ve been able to do that in three weeks. I will increase it tomorrow. It felt good.

It’s cold outside, but we’re going to lunch and just a little shopping. Home Depot. Where else? H wants a fluorescent light. The one in the pantry went out. It’s scary in there now.

Have a good day!

Cardioversion √ and Porch Pup



Porch Pup

I’ll get to the cardioversion in a minute, but I have to tell you about this guy first. Isn’t he fabulous?!  It’s Porch Pup on Independence Day. I won a drawing at Marmelade Gypsy, and this was my prize. This is Jeanie’s talent at work. You should have seen me when I opened it. H and I both love it. She couldn’t have conjured up any other prize that we would have liked more. Thank you, Jeanie!

Cardioversion √

The last time I had a cardioversion was a few years ago. The anesthesiologist used Propofol that time: the drug that (administered inappropriately) killed Michael Jackson.  When I woke from that cardioversion, the nurse told me that I talked through the entire thing and said some crazy things. I remembered nothing. Apparently – among other things – I informed them that I was a Southern girl and told them that drugs were good.

So yesterday was my second cardioversion. It went well and my heart is back in rhythm, but I started stressing on Sunday – not about the cardioversion. I fixated on the possibility of  saying something wholly inappropriate, or maybe even worse while under sedation. Maybe something offensive or even nasty. The worst thing I could have done was share this anxiety with H. He spent the next 24 hours suggesting hideously inappropriate things to say. He made me laugh, but I was sure his suggestions would stick in my brain, and I would repeat them while I was unconscious. Dr. Heartthrob would never think of me the same way again. Fortunately, they used different meds this time: a mixture of a drug that is very much like Valium and another drug. As soon as I woke, I asked the nurse if I talked. She said, “Nope, not a peep.”

I hate being out of control.


I’ve Missed You

It’s been a while. I’ve missed you. H and I are still here on the pasture. We had a nice Christmas: ate too much, didn’t sleep enough, gained weight. All the usual stuff. The Grand Trio liked their gifts, which were fewer this year. They didn’t seem to notice.

It’s been an eventful time health wise. First the kidney stone (Ouch!), then the heart attack (Yikes!). After all that, a few weeks ago, I woke in the middle of the night and immediately knew that my heart was no longer in sinus rhythm. I’ve been dragging ever since. I’ve had no zest for opening a new blog, even though I’ve missed blogging and reading your blogs very much. It’s alarming how fatigue can rob you of your heart’s desire.

On Monday, I’m going into the hospital as an out-patient. Dr. Hearttrob will do a cardioversion on my heart. I’m getting to be an old hand at this stuff. I’m looking forward to it because I know I will feel so much better. It’s an easy procedure and almost no recovery time at all. I’ll probably just laze around that afternoon and be raring to go the next day. That’s my plan anyway.

I can’t tell you how lame I was at getting this blog up and limping along. It’s been a while since I started a blog. It will most likely change. I couldn’t find my old theme. You know me, I would use the same old thing until cats bark and dogs meow.

I thank you all for your comments on my previous blog. It meant a lot. I still feel bad about not being able to give access to everyone who made a request when I went private. I didn’t recognize everyone’s user name. One person had “fart” in their user name, and I thought for sure that was my “visitor.” LOL If you are “fart” and you ever find me, let me know so we can have a laugh.

So that’s it. A first post so I can tell myself that I’m a blogger. I’m looking forward to visiting all of you this week.