Adventures in Cheryll-Land

I've been watching a baby bird who fell out of his nest a few days ago.   He had feathers, but he was small, and he was unable to fly.  His mother was feeding him, so I just tried to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't fall off the retaining wall and drown in the pool.  This morning, I went out to check on him, and when I peeked around the bushes to see how he was doing, all I saw were two feet sticking straight up in the air.   AauuuuuggghhhH!!!!!!!!!    I don't know if his mother didn't feed him ENOUGH or if he got to HOT or if he got scared from all the fireworks last night, had a heart attack and died in the night.

 

You know, everyone says, "don't mess with nature."  Blah blah blah.  "Just leave birds alone - they'll be fine.  Their mothers will take care of them."   Yeah, RIGHT!  THIS is what happens when you leave nature alone.  Animals DIE, people!    Aauugghh.  I can't stand it.  I just CAN'T STAND IT!!!

My dad passed away January 16, 2003.   Several years ago, I asked him for a "sign."  I asked him to send me a feather.  To make a long story short (I'll locate the original blog and paste the link here if I can), he sent me a hummingbird feather.    Here's the link:  http://cheryll-land.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!F891CF9642F42994!1646.entry

 

Well, today, for whatever reason, I found myself talking to him again and wondering if he's still "around."  I said, "Dad, if you're still here - if you can hear me, please send me another feather.  Something unusual so I will know it's from you."

 

Tonight I went outside, glanced in the pool, and saw something floating, so I walked over and picked it out of the water.  It LOOKED like a feather, but it was very, very unusual.  Actually, it was more like just a feather quill.  A feather that really never broke out of its sheath, I guess.  Hard to tell because it was wet.  I brought it inside and showed it to Chris and asked him what he thought it was, and he said it's definitely a feather.

 

Looks like it came from a good sized bird . . . .  nothing at all like the original hummingbird feather.  And it's definitely unusual!!   Can't say that I've ever found just a feather quill before.

 

Anyone else think this is strange??

 

107 degrees in Vegas yesterday.  The puppies took their first dip in the pool.

 

I've never been particularly sensitive to prescription medication.  If the directions say to take one, I can generally take two or three and be just fine.  I know plenty of people who are just the opposite - I'm just not one of them.  I don't have to be too careful about what I take because I seem to have the constitution of a German farm woman.

 

The first time I ever ran into a problem was when I tried to quit taking Zoloft.  A doctor put me on it, years ago, to help get me through a temporary situation, and before I knew it, years had passed, the situation had passed, and one day I asked myself, "Why in the heck am I still taking this stuff, anyway??"  So I tried to quit.  BIG MISTAKE.  Totally screwed me up.  So I tried to quit slowly.  DIDN'T WORK.   Doctors all said, "Oh well, just stay on it."

 

Now, when I say, "screwed me up," this is what I mean:   the absence of Zoloft in my system leads to SEVERE AGITATION.  I'm talking about the sort of agitation that is completely out of control and leads to utter  R A G E.   Blinding fury.  Very scary.  I've now been on Zoloft for 11 years, and after many attempts to wean myself off of it, have finally resigned myself to the fact that it's impossible.  Apparently I'm going to have to take it for the rest of my life. 

 

So - recently I went to a new doctor - and while discussing my inability to lose weight, he says to me, "Well, NO WONDER you can't lose weight! Zoloft is the problem! Let's switch you to Pristiq!"   I eyed him suspiciously . . . .  ran through my history with Zoloft . . . . and he said, "No problem, just cut back on the Zoloft and start taking the Pristiq, and everything will be fine."    Not only that, but we're going to put you on X Y and Z to help with weight loss.  And with that, he hands me a bunch of papers, pills, and sends me on my way.

 

I come home and start going through the papers, and I can't help but notice a particular paragraph about one of the medications he gave me.  It says:  Contraindications:  Combining X with SSRIs (antidepressants such as Lexapro, Prozac, Zoloft) must be done with caution to avoid serotonin syndrome.

 

So I Google "serotonin syndrome" and find that it is a POTENTIALLY LIFE THREATENING DRUG REACTION.

 

Are you KIDDING ME????    Read my lips:  Heath Ledger.  Anna Nicole Smith.   HellOOOOooooo.    

 

It makes a person think . . . . .      at least THIS person.

 

And while I'm on the subject, one doctor says one thing (use bioidentical hormone therapy!) and another doctor says something else (don't use bioidentical hormone therapy!).   Who am I supposed to believe?   I know medicine isn't an exact science, but what am I supposed to do, go out and buy my own medical journals and do my own research????    Arrrrggggghhhhh.

Surgery has been moved up one week and will now be taking place on July 8, which also happens to be MY BIRTHDAY!!!   I requested it be moved up since I have to drive to Colorado in August and wanted to give myself as much time as possible to recover before that time.

 

Th th th th that's all, folks!!

Yup, here we go.  It's been scheduled.  Left shoulder.  July 15.   Don't know exactly what the problem is, but they suspect bone spurs.  Whatever.  They'll fix whatever it is when they get in there.  Surgery should take anywhere from 30 minutes to one hour.  Should be in a sling for about three weeks.  Blah blah blah.

 

I just don't want to contract any sort of flesh eating bacteria that's going to travel up my neck and eat half my face off. 

GRRRRRRRRRRRRR.    Geez - I came home from a nail appointment the other day with a card that had my next two appointments on it, and I put it here on the table, near my laptop so I could enter the dates in my calendar, and somehow the card disappeared.  POOF.  Gone.  Can't find it anywhere.  So I texted Kelly to ask her to tell me when the appointments are - she texted me back - I glanced at the answer, and THEN guess what I did???  I accidentally deleted her answer!!!   NOW I have to call her and ask her AGAIN!  She's going to think I've lost my mind.

 

I had an appointment yesterday for an ultrasound of my thyroid, which somehow got inadvertently cancelled and rescheduled for Thursday, so again, I came home with a card that had the appointment time on it.  Think I can find it anywhere?  Hell no.  I know it's tomorrow, and I THINK it's at 12:30, but I can't say for sure because the card is nowhere to be found.  Maybe I AM losing my mind.  Or MAYBE, just MAYBE my husband is trying to make me THINK I'm losing my mind.  Maybe he's secretly taking things and hiding them or throwing them away to make me think I'm crazy.

 

This is insane.

OMG, I fell asleep this afternoon and had the STRANGEST DREAM!   Something about Amy dying . . . me chopping her head off . . . . Wayne digging a hole and burying her head . . . . . it was HORRIBLE!!!   Makes me shudder to even THINK of it!!!  Piggy was sitting on the shovel as I picked up her decapitated head . . .   it was really just so, so strange.  I don't know WHERE I come UP with these things!  Must have been something I ate.  Sheesh!  No more pickles before bed for ME!

My cousin, Bonnie's, husband Wayne called a couple of weeks ago to say he was going to be in Vegas this weekend and ask if he could stay with us for a few days.  Of course we said yes.   Then - some time later - Amy decided she was coming this weekend, as well.  When I told Amy that Wayne was also going to be here, she made a special request for the downstairs bedroom because "that's where she always stays and it's how she knows she's 'home.'"  

 

Now, mind you, Amy and Wayne and Bonnie have known each other for years.  They go wayyyyyy back.  So when Wayne got here yesterday, I said to him, "Amy has requested the downstairs bedroom, so she wants you to stay upstairs."  Wayne looked at me and said, "Screw that!  I got here first, I'm staying downstairs!"   Now, maybe you'd have to know Wayne to appreciate how funny this is.  (Don't tell Amy I said that.)  Wayne has graciously offered to share the room with Amy, but that's the most he's prepared to give.

 

I don't know WHY they both want the downstairs bedroom.  Well, that's only partially true.  I think Wayne wants the downstairs bedroom only to aggravate  Amy.  Of COURSE Amy is mad as hell.  She wants the room that she wants!  She's mad at me because she thinks I should have forced Wayne to move upstairs!   I asked her what she wanted me to do, put him in a headlock and hive him noogies until he agreed to sleep upstairs???  I mean, seriously, what was I supposed to do?  I ask you - WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?

Bonnie's husband, Wayne, made the silly mistake of saying that his Jaguar is faster than my new 370Z.  Guess what, folks?  IT'S NOT!!  I don't know why it brings me such joy to Google all of the cars that are NOT faster than the Z, but it does.  Now, trust me, I know there are more than a few cars faster than mine, but there are a whole WHOLE lot that aren't.  (evil laugh)

 

Bonnie, before you call to argue with me, I had this conversation with Wayne, and he conceded that he had misspoken.  The Jag (even though it IS a Vanden Plas and a V-8) has 290 HP and does 0-60 in 6.9 seconds.  The Z, on the other hand, has 332 horse and does 0-60 in 4.7.

 

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.   I love my car.  I seriously, seriously do.