Finally!

Please feel free to visit other slightly more medically oriented blogs, newly blogrolled at right. There will be more later. Right now I am fairly familiar with these, and will blogroll more as I go along.

But next we will blogroll the more active-type bloggers. Those that like to tour their own towns, as do I. Watch this space...

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Little Pond

Older can be Wiser

In the early days after my diagnosis, I read an awful lot of literature about MS and relationships. The message was this: MS is an strain on relationships, and they generally don't survive it.

This appears to be the case in many marriages. Even in my own family, one spouse left the other because MS broke their family. Not a good outlook for me.

My father told me a few years ago that he held my husband in high esteem because he stayed with me after the diagnosis.

Naturally I couldn't leave well enough alone. One day I cornered RJ, and asked him why he stayed, knowing how it would turn out.

It may just be his recognition of my survival powers, but it is most certainly a testament to my Other that his answer was simple and instantaneous.

"Just thought I'd hang around and see how it all turns out."

Silly me. No one "knows" how it will turn out. The journey is just as important as the destination.

Sometimes he is so wise it scares me.

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Little Pond

So here's the thing.

I turned on the bright lights over the sink, so I could see better.

Once I could see better, the crud around the cats' dishes became obvious. So I grabbed a brush and scrubbed at it.

Once I was down on my hands and knees, I noticed the entire floor really needed cleaning. So I swept it, to get ready to mop.

Once I started sweeping the corners, I noticed that the appliances need cleaning, especially down near the floor. So I wiped the outsides of the appliances.

Once the appliances were clean, I noticed there were fingerprints everywhere. So...

Here's where I caught myself. Already tired and I never even got to mopping the floor.

Think I'll blog instead.

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Little Pond

Oh, the irony...

I was instant messaging JC (our central office) to tell them I was sending color pages over the wires, when a note popped up.

"PAGES LEFT!!!!?????" Then the phone rang.

"Why aren't you messaging?"

"Huh! We have been, all night." One doesn't waste words with that guy. We call him Mr. McGrumpiFlick, if you get my drift.

"It isn't working. Reboot it."

"But we are getting your messages!" MMGF muttered some more, but I'd already started to hang up, and I decided not to stop.

Boss asked what was up, and I told him. He, too, looked at all the messages on the board. We hadn't noticed that they were staying highlighted, even after we opened them. The phone rang again, and since it was MMGF, I said nothing but instead handed it directly to Boss.

After a short explanation, he hung up, amused. "MMGF said he was afraid you forgot how to use the system." He knows I have MS. I was not amused. I am instant messaging because Boss does not know how to initialize the system. We have instructions, but he lost his (read forgot where he put them) and doesn't remember how.

I got a message from the now re-booted system. "WELL!!!" Presumably because I hung up.

So, because I have MS, everyone assumes I can't remember anything. But I took note that Mr. McGrumpiFink didn't say anything to my face. He knows I'd tear him a new one. And I can pretty much guess what he calls me.

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Little Pond

Never a door closes, but another opens, eh?

A while ago I mentioned that our local MS chapter closed: a victim, I believe, of blackballing by our local United Way.

Today a little note arrived from MSF, who apparently helped our local chapter. We were funded by a chapter in Florida, I thought. Of all places, I thought. Good people are everywhere, aren't they?

They are one in the same, I guess. Good people? Heck, yeah! They even promise not to pester me with multiple mailings.

The Multiple Sclerosis Foundation can be found here. I am throwing this out to anyone who wished they had some other support. I personally will be checking in with the website now and again. In fact I will use their sign-off.

"Wishing you a brighter tomorrow."

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Little Pond

Let the Planetlets In!

(Author's note: In keeping with the name of this blog, we will, from time to time, include posts that deal with astronomy.)

One more dwarf planet has been added to our mapped solar system. This should soon become routine. Keep in mind that these dwarves have gravity, and could become possible landing sites for explorers.

That in itself ought to make each and every "planetlet" a point of interest for space speculators.

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Little Pond

Labor Day weekend was very, very good to me...

and delivered one more perk. Sort of.

Maybe it was my imagination, but my shot hurt less today. Could it be a brand-new layer of baby fat to shoot?

In my forties, I injected my abdomen, because there, well, my fat was my friend.

But with the fifties, that abdominal fat disappeared, to be replaced by a lovely layer of lard around the waist. Strangely enough, it hurts a lot to shoot there. And stays sore a lot longer. The love handles, previously non-existent, are soft, fluffy and have become premiere injection sites.

This weekend more than ever. Naturally, I have stepped up my walking routine. Dog or no dog.

There's got to be at least 10 pounds semi-circling my waist. Good thing I return to work tonight.

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Little Pond

Oh, well.

Was composing a great post on shopping, now that I self-catheterize. Ellie (HuggaMutt) and Bubba (BabyBoy, the cat who is bigger than Ellie) were raising Cain right next to me. Ellie has a growly/complainy noise she makes when she's play-fighting with the cats. I think it's because the cats don't make enough noise when play-fighting. For once, chubby brown pup was getting the best of the big, gray bully.

Bubba hissed and spat at Ellie, who poked him in the (considerably good-sized) belly, sending him into the wall. The computer went dark.

Swearing a mighty oath, I cursed the little darlings. Self-preservation kicked in, and the two ran, shoulder to shoulder, into the living room to escape my wrath.

Took it as a sign from Heaven: popped a cold beer, and settled in for a few hours of saving the world in Final Fantasy VIII.

Three-day weekends rule!

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Little Pond