Going Back to England

I'm planning a trip to England next year. I've been wanting to go back for the last five years (since my last trip) but life intruded. And I need something to put the memories of that trip further behind me.

This would be an educational trip - with lectures from people who are experts on the Arthurian legend - one of them is Geoffrey Ashe. I've read and reread many of his books and meeting him (and learning from him) would be better than meeting...Paul McCartney.

I need this trip for many reasons:
I need to something for me and only me.
I need something that's NOT work or nursing or health care.
I need to jump start the revisions on my Arthurian legend book.
I need to return to England - I always feel as if I'm coming home when the plane lands - on my first trip I cried as we landed at Heathrow.

So now that I'm feeling better and my blood pressure seems to be under control, I'm planning things that will continue to do just that - and are all for ME.

Wake-Up Call

Sometimes the wake-up call doesn't come from the alarm clock. Sometimes it comes from a Blood Pressure cuff.

I was in my doctor's office to have my BP checked two weeks after having my meds changed. In those two weeks I'd continued with my new role as VP of Nursing, drove back and forth to Pittsburgh, worked on information for our facilities for the H1N1 virus, interviewed nurses for an open regional nurse position, plus the daily stuff. I'd been feeling exhausted for weeks, but really didn't take it seriously. After all I was almost 62 and working harder than I ever had.

During the doctor's visit I complained about some wobbly walking and some fuzzy thinking (joking of course). Well, my database was almost full and I had to reload some of the information in my gray cells to a thumb drive. Ha-Ha. But my doctor wasn't joking. He did my BP lying down, sitting up and standing. I was not very steady in either of those positions. And my BP was sky-high. High enough to be admitted to the hospital directly from his office.

Concerned that I may have had small strokes, my doctoron the first day ordered a CT Scan of my brain, an MRI of the brain, an EKG, blood work from nine tubes of blood and a doppler of my carotid arteries (that supply the brain). My BP after the doppler was 245/145 - death-mode. I was given medication to help bring it down.

Because I was on the telemetry unit (hooked to a heart monitor constantly), I was found to have ventricular tachycardia (rapid, irregular heart rate) one night, with no outward symptoms. I felt "fine" In fact I'd always felt "fine" - just tired, just exhausted - after all I work all week, drive all over and write and go to writers meetings on the weekend. I was just fine--NOT. That night I was give IV magnesium sulfate to bring my BP done and assist to regulate my heart rate.

My second day of admission (with a too low potassium level of 2.5), I had an echocardiogram, a stress test and two renal artery tests. Those test found that I had a narrowing of one of my renal arteries - decreasing blood flow to the kidney.

Blood work, intravenous hydration and rest my BP was better - finally out of the hospital on Saturday - with the agreement by all doctors that the stent needed for that narrow renal artery could wait until after my writers conference.

Yes - I did ask that. Writing and writers keep me sane and happy. As do my family friends and my very needy cats, and my medititation CDs.

The inevitable question: When can I go back to work? Not "when DO I go back to work" but when "CAN" I go back to work. One of my wonderful doctors said in his lovely Romanian accent, "We talk in office."

Right now I'm relaxing, reading, petting cats, watching old movies like Peter Lorre in "The Beast with Five Fingers", looking at my litte garden.

Somethings are more important than "when can I go back to work."
Living is one of those things. Probably the only thing.

Desdemona

I met this lovely little baby the other day - little chubby cheeks and big blue eyes who almost smiled at the crazy lady in the big sunglasses.

I asked her name and her father (she was with father and grandparents) said, "Desdemona."

Me: "Ah, someone must be a Shakespeare fan."

Grandmother, proudly: "Her mother and father are English majors."

Me: "That was a dream of mine. But, alas (and yes, I said "alas") I'm a nurse."

Grandmother: "That's a very important job..."

Me: "Well, yes but...."

I said good-bye to Desdemona and walked out of the restaurant. I'd wanted to warn Desdemona about men named Othello but I was already was thinking about the next day and arranging what I had to do.

Alone...still...

I really don't mind living alone or not having a significant other - for most of the time.
In fact it's nice not to have to answer to anyone else. But there are times....

Today I sat alone in an Indian restaurant - alone because I'm 300 miles away from home. I love Indian food but I never go to a local Indian restaurant. I can go out to movies alone - it's dark. Sitting in a restaurant alone, as a single woman, is still a bit intimidating for me. Some feminist, huh? When I travel for work, no problem; especially when I ask for the receipt - oh, a business woman on a trip - that explains it, I imagine the wait staff thinking. Why I care about what the wait staff think - well, I guess that's another shrink session.

And speaking of the shrink: She told me I need to look for a group of single, middle-aged women to spend time with. Ohhhh-kay. Match.com? Craig's List? Calling all lonely middle-aged women. I did look for a book club - but many are during the day: I can't do and the ones at night:I never know when I'll be on the road.

I will once again be going to the Wine Tasting party for my favorite no-kill animal shelter. The few single, close to middle-aged (as in 40's - not 60's) women I know don't have the extra bucks I do and can't afford to go. I hesitate to say, "I'll pay for it." Seems too much like buying friendship.

Maybe I need a Middle-aged Female Escort Service. Yeah and how would THAT look?

What will be left?

I had to move everything in my living room closet/storage room so the maintenance department could get to the floor hatch that leads to my crawl space.

In the back I pulled out a large plastic storage bin, a cardboard box and a suitcase. The bin and the suitcase were marked "Mom and Dad". The cardboard box was labeled" "Pop's Army things."

Two lives distilled down to three storage boxes.

It made me wonder what I would leave - books, ones I've read, ones I've written?
Or would I leave good memories - memories in the hearts of people I've touched.

Only time will tell.

When I think I want a man in my life...

...I look at this:

Long Week

It was supposed to be a short week with the Labor Day Holiday on Monday. But it goes down as one of the longest weeks of the year..
I was in the office early Tuesday to write out changes in employee category definitions that several of us had agreed to before Thursday's union negotiations. Then a long morning meeting reviewing all of that - and more. Finally by 1 PM I was on the road driving to the Pittsburgh area.
Wednesday was a day of more meetings and interviews for a soon to be vacant Regional Nurse position.
Thursday Union negotiations and issues that I won't discuss here other than to say that said issues drove me to CareerBuilder.com that night.
Friday more interviews and then a long drive home on Rt. 80 in a downpour.
I had back pain and leg spasms.
Then there was the "noise" under the floor that greeted me when I got home (Rich, taking care of the cats, had warned me) and a Friday evening call to the maintenance man on duty - leaking pipe. Acck!
Saturday - back still crappy and I decided to forgo my writers group meeting to take my time dragging all the stuff out of my living room closet/storage area. That's how they'll get to the pipe - through the crawl space entrance in the floor of the closet.
I've been living on Tylenol and Lidocaine patches.
The only bright spot being Lakeside's PowWow this afternoon.

And tomorrow I get to start it ALL over again.

Pain, Exhaustion and Other Issues

Pain: Back has been a b--ch this week and I'm downing extra-strength Tylenol like they were TicTacs. Hello, Liver Disease? But the pain always flares up when I drive across the state.

Exhaustion: At 62 I worry about how much longer I can do 10 hour days, sometimes with a couple or more hours of driving.

Other Issues: Can't mention. Well, actually I did mention them and the post was up for a few days, but decided in my own best interest to take it down- need the job, need the health insurance.