A new kinda Hell

Sucker punched in the gut. I could not breathe. No feeling in my limbs.

It could be lymphoma or cancer .

WTF??

We had a flu/summer cold /allergy thing going around the Red household. I was down for the count for a few days. So when my son started complaining of feeling achy I just assumed he had the crud.

Ok think about this:

-18

-male

-yeah……

He goes to the doc. An infection. Take these antibiotics. All will be well. Come back if you have this.

He still had this. Doc couldn’t see him. Goes to ER.

FF a few hours. He is admitted and we are being told the worst.

His kidneys are clear,but his fever still spikes.

Then the Doc starts asking about Cancer history. O m G

I did not lose it.

See, I am learning about my strengths. This is not about me however. This about my son. My precious baby boy. Who was sick enough to actually go to the doctor. They admitted him. Ok, just wanna observe. Cool Beans.

Then this am we get this woman telling me my son may have cancer. OK CRAZYDOCTOR SAY WHAT??

He is fine. Let me get that out of the way.

But in this really warped small town that we live in, there is only one hospital. It is hit or miss. It can take some yelling to get someone who knows what they are doing and can string a coherent thought together.

So let’s get back to the story. I had come back to the house to crash for 20 minutes. I just craved my bed. I had not slept well for days. So I “just layed down”. An hour later Bill wakes me up saying his fever is still spiking, he is going to the hospital and will call me. Fast forward another hour, I call my son’s girlfriend and she says Bill just left, and she would let him tell me.

Now my hubby hates hospitals, I know this. But he was trying to be diplomatic to a point. Which came and went. He fired the doc, got ours in there and lo and behold, we find out it is a super strain of mono.

I have been to a place in hell parents never want to go. And I have a new respect and grief for parents with terminally ill children.

My boy is gonna be ok. But that doc will not after I talk to administration Monday. Just sayin………

Why I Can't Share.

I am starting a new thang. I will gush forth with a spew of witty and cynical words and only then will I title my post.
My friend Vicki over at the froglicking place ( she does! I have SEEN it), invited me to join another blogging thing. It's basically about taking things back, I think. I am way medicated. Kidney stones n all. So maybe I can go and find it later for you.
Let me get to my point. I do not think I am worthy at this point in time of blogging with them. There are a few reasons and because I am a list maker and not sure of my coherence at the moment........ooohhh there is a kitty at the door....

• I am over 40. I have dealt with my pain in more ways than Carter has Liver Pills. It is not a new thing I am tackling.
• I was not abused in any way.
• My parents loved me. They may not have been perfect or the most affectionate, but I do know they loved me. Never doubted it.
• I am quite comfy in my birth order. And thanks to how my parents spread us out there really is no rivalry, we went on to bigger and better things.
• I can only blame my Mind Monster for the pain and suffering. I blame the disease.
• I do not blame God. These days I embrace the imperfections He gave me.
• THIS is the biggest one so pay attention. It may sound petty , trite, self serving, and kinda snobby but it is what it is.
  

I have been down that road for so many years. I have wandered in the darkness feeling like I was alone, watching other people live without me. It was surreal, watching people's lives progress while I seemed to struggle just to breathe. I have dealt with that pain. I have dug down and looked for reasons. I have self medicated, I have lied about how I felt, I have hidden too much and I have shown too much.
I have hated everyone who loves me. I have burned bridges that took modern explosives to bring down. I have woken up shaken and dazed in a room at a hospital. And it was nobody's fault. The only fault was that I had not learned how to deal with my disease.
There are some awesome people out there sharing their stories. I have shared mine, just not in a printed format. I am, at the moment, beyond the pain. I can't dredge it up. Oh it will come back, and you bet I will be burning the midnight oil in a manic frenzy and wearing out Lulu's keys.

Unless you have dug yourself out of a dark, humiliating,lonely, and hellish place, you may not understand.I was blessed with so many things but I , for some reason, could not understand that. It was not an issue with my upbringing, it was a chemical issue. My chemistry is rather screwed.








..
So there it is. I haven't got time for the pain right now. I do respect , love, and admire all of those who are telling their stories to help others. I just can't right now. Life is too good and I cannot even risk a tiny tear in the sheer gauze that holds me together.

I had to.

http://www.cafepress.com/YouLoveKathleen

For Vicki.

My Mother's Day Post.

Boots is a very private person. Yes I said Boots. That is her nickname. Seriously. She has a big girl name. Sadly it shares the same name as my resident ghost. There could be all kinds of psychological insight there. But this is a post about my mom. Not the remnants of whatever that lives in my attic.

ANYMYMOMROCKSWHATEVER, I am writing this from a viewpoint my sisters do not have. Yeah Lynn is a mom and all... TO THE CUTEST RUBY IN THE WORLD, but she has not gotten to the point of watching her chicks fly the nest, become adults, have their hearts broken, have babies themselves and generally spend all my money. Her day is coming.

My mom has done all that. Now she was NOT my Labor Coach. My hubby was. But she was there until we kicked her out. I found out some years later that was or maybe was not for her own good. When Maddie was born ( my first grand, my heart, my favorite lil kid ) I saw parts of her mother I had not seen for years. But I will never forget how awesome it was when the Doc said "She looks just like Grandma". Excuse me , I have a tear.

She does. Look like me. So does Haley. And Haley's little sister. And we all look like mom. My sisters look like mom.

After Maddie was born my parents and my sister came to visit. We all went to breakfast. It was surreal looking around at a bunch of women that looked just like me. Spooky, possum.

But I have discovered how strong a person my mom is. I do not have room for all the reasons why. Ok I do, but as I said she is very private. Not because she has anything to hide but because that is how people with true class roll. Boots is old school prep. Which is not a bad thing.

My new Mantra has become "Would Boots say that?". Because as my husband pointed out, she can be quite forceful and tell you what she thinks. In a nice, genteel, southern way. Which is totally opposite than Wifford, my dad. ( think Quaker Oats,Diabeetus. That is what he looks like.)

My mother has been through all manner of craptitis with me and and my sisters. But she still loves , never disowned us, and really is truly happy when we are happy.THAT gentle readers is what being mom is all about. It is not "If Momma Ain't Happy Then Nobody Is Happy". It is " If all my chicks are at least safe and ok I can get a good nights sleep."

And Boots I need to say this: I am so sorry it took me so long to see this. But then maybe I needed the life experience. I was a Daddy's Girl you know. Sorry Dad, but I think Mom needs her due.

I love you Boots. Thank you for all you have done and continue to do. And I don't mean money. I mean thank you for being you. For being a guide as to how we should be.

As I told Vicki

I am a bad friend and blogger.
But let me give you an idea of what I am up against.


And before you read this, I was tired and half tipsy. Punctuation and spelling is atrocious.

• my nana fell. It's was not so bad. She is tough at 89. But now she wants to give up.
• I live in a swamp. In south carolina. We do not even get a neat accent/language like the bayou.
• work is busy. they are actually making me work.
• there has been some other mess.
• oh and we are trying to bring our cool ass 1940's post war home up to code.

Case in point, remember Green Acres? Don't plug a 5 and a 7 in at the same time? Yeah...
Do not use the microwave while the dryer is going. Mama loses internet because the fuses blow and Mama gets mad.

But I am back. Documenting why think I need a reality show. Seriously. The great thing about my family is they keep me in stitches. And booze.

This actually brings me to this. Please follow my convoluted thinking, my husband is in the kitchen singin Englebert Humpmydick. I should wonder?

I have a set of friends that I play this cute little pet game online with. And then I have these friends that are Death Hags. Let me Explain.
We know and will wager on the latest celebrity death. We seem to embrace all there is about death. Before you go "Oh you sick bitch" Let me splain.

See, we are more interested in how humans react to death. I can tell you what that Lamb symbols means on a Gravestone. It's who I am. And not because I am odd and twisted. Although I am, but it is not relevant. It is because I have had a sense of history taught to me since I toddled. YOU grow up in the 70's and 80's in Savannah GA and NOT take a trip to a graveyard or Massie School. So blame Sarah Parsons. And my parents.( they HAVE to be blamed)
These are also the people that understand why I tramp through graveyards and take pictures. And understand why I have actually sold some of these prints.

There is a lot to be learned from how the past generations dealt with death. The customs and symbols. I could and have written entire papers on this.

Here is my thing. These friends are starting to selectively merge. One notices one's humor and friends them. And then I realize that I draw to me people who are like me. Death becomes irrelevant.


And Death begats a new look on life. Kinda neat. I think it is.

My Love Wears A Dress.......

LADIES, the only thing under there is a monster..........( If you do not get the Nessie reference, please, email me., I love the stupid.)


Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) (also known as Rabbie Burns, Scotland's favourite son, the Ploughman Poet, Robden of Solway Firth, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as simply The Bard[1][2]) was a Scottish poet and a lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland, and is celebrated worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language, although much of his writing is also in English and a "light" Scots dialect, accessible to an audience beyond Scotland. He also wrote in standard English, and in these his political or civil commentary is often at its most blunt.

He is regarded as a pioneer of the Romantic movement, and after his death he became a great source of inspiration to the founders of both liberalism and socialism. A cultural icon in Scotland and among the Scottish Diaspora around the world, celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult during the 19th and 20th centuries, and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature. In 2009 he was voted by the Scottish public as being the Greatest Scot, through a vote run by Scottish television channel STV.

As well as making original compositions, Burns also collected folk songs from across Scotland, often revising or adapting them. His poem (and song) Auld Lang Syne is often sung at Hogmanay (the last day of the year), and Scots Wha Hae served for a long time as an unofficial national anthem of the country. Other poems and songs of Burns that remain well-known across the world today include A Red, Red Rose; A Man's A Man for A' That; To a Louse; To a Mouse; The Battle of Sherramuir; Tam o' Shanter, and Ae Fond Kiss.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Burns



Hi, I am Mary Kathleen. I am a member by birth of the clan of McDonald.Not the arches. And not the Campbell clan. Nope the Glencoes. Fuckers got all massacred and shit. Thankfully we are fertile bunch.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glencoe_Massacre

HOLLA!

I am married to a MacBain..AKA McBean. Or Bean. Like Alan Bean. Yeah ...him.
The astronaut. Our Tartan went to to the moon, but before that...It was some weird guys..

Ohhhhhhhh MacBeth.
Crap.

However, I bring you back to this.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kzYaIphbzU

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Yeah about that.
You will. Sorry peaches, but you can't deny your father or your name. I have tried. Does not quite work that way.

Point 1- My Name. Rather my maiden name is not all that common. It also happens to be the name of a liberal arts schools that was once an all girls school. Sorry, OUR Vassar Girls are more elite than the schools.

Point 2- My Father. He is quite the enigma. He is worth 30 blog posts. Let me just say this about my parentage. I can set an appropriate table, wear Nana's Pearls while I run cat 5 and phone line AND navigate your sorry ass out of the swamp. There will be a gourmet dinner at camp. We may shop later.Wear appropriate shoes.

The thing is when I was younger I wanted to get as far away from these two as I could. I ran screaming. I screamed so loud and long they told the MR NOT to Marry Me. Dumbass did not listen.

Funny thing is, poor Jules, had she just married the sot, and weathered the storm, her parents would have come around ( HEY THIS IS MY STORY)and there would have been no poisoned drama at the ol crypt. She could have thrown back some vino at Christmas Eve with her mom and compared notes on grandkids.

Our parents are who we are . Who we will becomwe. I look forward to the day that I am my paarents and my inlaws age. They are not slowing down. We keep them young. And we treasure who they are, who they were, who they taught us to be, and who we will become because of them. They color everything about us. We want to be the grandparents they are.

When I was growing up, I had a very immediate family. My Nana lived with us. I had no other really close family. I now have a large extended family. Partly because my hubs has such a large family, partly because THIS IS THE MOST FERTILE FAMILY beyond the Duggars. I kid you not.


I need to close and welcome Mia Gabrielle Meyers. Born Jan 4th. I hear she looks like a Monchichi.

HOT DONUTS and bad service.

I see that I have not posted since New Years Eve. No , I am NOT still hungover, just major busy and that does not look like it will change. However, I managed to sneak in a weekend away AND a day trip.
I'll blog about the weekend later. It was windy and cold but I SCORED at the Liz outlet.

Anyhoo, today was FREE FEE day at some of our National Parks. They do this from time to time and will be doing so again later in the year. It was actually a 3 day thing. From Saturday to Monday but I do have a JOB so we went today.

Now any of you that know any of my family knows that even a trip to Wal-Mart can be migraine inducing and have mommy screaming for the GOOD Vodka. Today was no exception. We had to take a long circuitous route to son # 2's house to get son # 1. Because son #1 has a truck that gets 2 miles to the gallon. Well and it currently has no brakes. Minor details.

Now Mr Red has no sense of direction at all. Which is ok , because my nickname is Magellan. ( look him up, I'll wait.) Sometimes though when you have young adult males giving you directions ,all is not as it seems. Or as they describe it. At least the white church was still there. After obtaining aforementioned son and getting back to civilization we headed for eats. Now I thought since today was all ready not going so well, let's go somewhere we know. Since we were in downtown Charleston, I figured "Tiny Condom's" was a good bet. Please note: that is not the actual name of the pub but since this goes from ok to bad to gross, I will not outright name them.

We park, we get seated, we order. We get our appetizers.

IRISH NACHOS

SHE CRAB DIP.


Then our server just vanished. POOF. Like he never even existed. After getting another nice server ( WOO HOO GARRET!) to bring our food and refill our drinks , I decided to go potty.
Now folks, this is not some dive. This is a really nice pub in the historic district that is not cheap.. I was not expecting the foul level of Dante's Hell that I encountered upon entering the loo. I usually do not complain , but I did find a manager on that one. We won't be back. EVAH.


We did manage to catch the Hot Donut Sign on at Krispy Kreme on the way home though. If you have not ever had a KK right the eff off the conveyor belt and experienced that particular foodgasm, I am so sorry that you lead such a meaningless and pitiful existence. Truly. I was trying to pay my son $100 to ask them if I could bathe in the glaze waterfall. Really, I did. Maybe there is a reason my kids are so odd....
I took pichurs for ya though...