"The Jingle Bell Bum" (Read The Touching True Story...please!) Comment at patriciahanrion.com

"The Jingle Bell Bum" (Read The Touching True Story...please!) Comment at patriciahanrion.com
Still available on Amazon for Nook and Kindle, hard copy booklett to re-print November 2013

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Grumpy and with good reason! I have Fibromyalgia.

For the most part I am a very positive person but today has sent me into a state I rarely linger in for very long.  However, today....I started off grumpy, cranky, depressed, fat, with a headache, heartburn, swollen feet, hives, bad breath, nausea, constipation, diarrhea, stomach ache, and bad hair. Rather a rotten way to start the day...so far...

Now I sit waiting for the something good to happen.Under all that poop there must be a pony...right!

I think this time everything started because of very little sleep. Last night was a snuggle night for Mr. Patrick. He grabs me pulls me close, I figure sweet nothings will begin. But No...nay nay...as usual within less than five seconds he is breathing loudly in my ear which rapidly becomes a sawmill rendition of, "Opus in B minor."  (See previous entry on why I don't protest him sleeping in the bed upside-down.)

Then the topper is that he started getting his nightly toaster warm-aura, and I envisioned myself in the Hansel and Gretel oven warmed up by the lady who lived in the candy house. Several times I tried to gently slide away, but each time I did, he re-established the anaconda grip...(stronger than a Kung-foo-grip) I could not go to sleep needless to say.

I think it was 2:30 when I finally escaped to the spare bedroom...forgetting I have been purging closets and the floor was covered by various clothing items and an array of coat hangers...
Once across the land mines, of course. And I also forgot many of the clothes were on the bed.  I clutched at whatever I could get my hands on and launched them across the room in the pitch dark.

Around 3:30 I got to sleep only to be awoken by my dear at 4 :30AM with his question, honey....couldn't you get to sleep????  Echhhhhhh!!! He was trying to be considerate I know, but REALLY.

The worst was when I looked in the mirror to realize I looked like a chipmunk with nuts in his cheeks or a poor imitation of Marlon Brando as Don Corleone in the Godfather...(.cotton in his mouth). This happens to be a fibromyalgia thing. Everyone says I'm allergic, but nay nay...I've gone that route and find nothing...so I know now from experience that for the next 48-72 hours I will be puffy....often on the bottoms of my feet too!

I have said I will not complain, I hate that...the only thing is sometimes I am so puffy I look like a gargoyle and certainly not ready to give a lecture on pharmacology...when I am gorked on Benedry to keep the hives from extending to my tongue and throat!...SCARY!

But as with all fibromyalgia stuff, no one cares so why should I...Right?
So here I am Grumpy, foggy headed from meds and a swollen brain but I will press on.
I'm still waiting for the sunshine...but with patience...sort-of.
So how is your day going.????

Monday, August 20, 2012

Upsidedown! and I have a wrestling match every night!

This week 2012 fall school starts so in an attempt to get myself together and ready for my classes to start I wanted to purge a bit of the house (especially since the mess from the family reunion of 24 extra bodies in the house for almost two weeks...ech!).

 We are the sedate and well mannered family
everyone desires, Ha! just kidding!

Of course in my typical OCD, ADD inability to stay on task as I started to fix our bed...now I say fix because we have a little sleeping issue! (that is an understatement!).  My husband says I slither into bed and lay there like someone in a coma...barely moving...usually with my mouth open and snoring...while he on the other hand is a nomad who cannot stay still or be happy unless every cover of every sheet and blanket has been pulled into a large ball and molded to suit whatever position he decides is the one for the moment...and I do mean moment... Sleeping with him is like being in a meat grinder.

Now we have had this issue for quite some time! Truthfully...from day one of our over 45 year marriage! At first I called him the blanket spool...he would wind up in the covers and leave me with none...and squeeze me out and off the bed (I have a fear of heights...see previous story....mind you we have a very large bed...BUT, It is also very high (I need a stool to get in) and falling off would leave me with scars from some injury or at the very least blood gushing from a deep  wound). 

In our first days of marriage I would get out of bed and move to the other side....only to have him worm his way back over to push me out again.

Have I mentioned the weight issue...when first married I was all of 104...(he is nine inches taller than me) He was at least 205 and I believe the weight disparity has remained the same as years have passed with each of us gaining a few...well more than a few...but anyway, as he gets closer and closer to me, I begin to slide under him and then smother. No wonder when we were first married I would wake up gasping for breath and find him with his chest on top of my head.

So this nightly battle continued until we moved to a house we bought from friends...it was just a transfer of papers between friends...no realtor...no title search, nothing..how cool was that! I think the only closing cost was to purchase deed stamps required to pay off the Spanish-American war ! I'm not kidding! (Thank you again Don and Ann Barnes)

At that time he swore the bed was tilted and in order to sleep he had to have his head at the top of the slant...so he slept upside down most of the time. And I had a romantic view of his feet...(possibly his method of birth control...) 

Then we moved to Santa Clarita and I said there was "no way two bedrooms are slanted" and he should sleep with his head up top like "normal people" (he's never-ever proclaimed to be normal) But I wanted to sleep with something other than a view of his flat feet...

But, he swore he needed to have fresh air in his face and that he could only get it from the window...and he had to sleep upside down to have the cool air hit his face. Yea! Right!, excuses, excuses. 

I'm quite sure now he does it due to the fact that his feet are very-very flat and he wanted me to rub them. He told me his feet always hurt at the end of the day and if I rubbed his then he would massage mine...hm mm...not often did he rub mine now that I think about it...

You may think this would be unacceptable, however this arrangement has not been a bad thing, for several reasons

First, he sleeps hot...and his side of the bed is usually wet from sweating all night and when I started having hot flashes there is no way I wanted to be anywhere near Mr. Radiator.

Second, he has always had huge shoulders...nice protective shoulders, and very nice to hug...but they fill up the bed...so his feet are actually a better fit and give me a tiny bit more room for my coma act.

Third, because he sleeps hot often he is on top of the bed...(this takes his hotness away from my skin..and prevents hot-flashes). With his five pillows strategiacally placed, then he usually takes another blanket just incase he gets cold in the night...fat chance!  (simply another thing for me to fold and put away each day,)  Now I admit I'm a bit of a nut and like a nice flat bed with military, neat, no wrinkles, square corners.  (Could also be the strict nurse training of the 60's)

And then the topper fun upsidedown activity is that we have a TV across the room and when he is upsidedown he uses a mirror to watch the screen. (I swear this is so he can practice his backup techniques...he is the master of backing up the car) The problem is he waves the mirror around and blocks my view of the screen as he starts to fall asleep which is in about three seconds. (weird I know, but this whole thing is a bit strange..don't you think) 

Then I have to pull the mirror from his hand to see the TV because in order to get to sleep I have to watch TV or read for at least an hour to get to sleep..and often in the night wake up again! and then read some more...and many times get  up with only 2-3 hours sleep...and 5 hours of laying flat to keep the sheets neat!

Here I am with Jacob and his sheep at the county fair...I slept alone at Colleen's house and had no feet in my face so you can see....no bags under my eyes...
So if you wonder why I am grumpy or have bags under my eyes...don't ask...now you know why!  Sorry if I'm complaining, but it is Monday for goodness sakes.

Saturday, August 4, 2012


We got through the reunion with I'm not sure how many grand kids at one time sleeping in the circus tent in the backyard. Patrick swears sleeping out there cured his leg and knee pain.  I'm not sure that was it but having all those little boys hanging on every word of his bedtime story must have had something to do with it. Like serendipity healing the new holistic method. However I spoke to some of the boys on our drive home from Lego land and they said every night the story dwindled off and then they heard snoring...and he never finished the story, most likely he never had an end to the story anyway. 

My bedtime stories at least have a plot. Patrick's on the other hand wind around to end up nowhere, but somehow the kids love them anyway. 

The popcorn machine outside was a good idea, except when the popcorn landed in the house...all over the place. 

I really miss everyone needless to say and as they left one by one, my tears began to flow and my chest felt tight.  I even saved some of the cups with names on them as a memento. Oh one day I'll throw them away but not now! and not yet!

What a ride, we went from the beach and little Pat's surfing lessons to California adventure, running on the Saugus High School track, Tandem riding, Games led by Jessika, Birthdays for 6 or 7...hiking up to the HOLLYWOOD sign, visiting with old kid friends. Going to the Temple (Patrick and his new wife were witness couple...how cool is that!) We had a big party with great grandma Helen learning to throw gang signs for the photo session. We went to Magic Mountain water park, Lego land, and the Lego water park...We never stopped running.

After the fun, frivolity and food, I wonder...Hey, why don't my pants fit? I weigh almost the same as I did ten years ago. I think gravity has something to do with my wardrobe malfunction. It's gravity and the fact that my adipose tissue seems to migrate. I mean move around. I see the advertisements for Brazilian butts. I have the same butt only thing it's in the front. I guess I should walk backwards and then I'd be in fashion.
I know my condition is the result of time passing, yes I admit it. Getting older is the pits. A while back I went to a gerontology class so I could teach Medical Surgical Nursing. Ha, the information they talked about is my life! First they mentioned your vision not only fades, but colors become more difficult to match as detailed perception also fades. So I end up looking like a Johnny Depp character from Alice with bright colors. Ones that I thought were faded and subtle.
And who knew..Ha..I wear glasses sometimes WITH my contacts to read pharmacy labels which are written for the little itsy bitsy Whos in the Horton story.
Then they mentioned that your taste is the next to go. Some young whipper snapper of about 50 years or so said "you are born with 100% of your taste buds, they don't grow back so when you destroy them with hot liquids...brain freeze cold, and Tabasco sauce your taste begins to disappear." I think that means that by the time you are 80 you have anywhere from 25-20% of those taste buds left...that's why some of the things I hated as a kid... you know like...garlic, onions, avocados, you like in your senior years. That's why old people chew on mints constantly to get rid of the bad breath from the noxious foods they eat. Eating strong foods can at least allow you to get some enjoyment of food. Salty and Sweet still remain, but chewing may be a problem. 

I remember Patrick's dad being hooked on chips and doughnuts...makes sense now!
Balance can go pretty quick so that's the broken hip thing as you fall down because the message to the brain to re-adjust your posture or "Quick..you'll FALL" is pretty slow. Hot also takes a long time to reach the old thinker too and that's why my mother-in-law could take out a tray of cookies from the oven without hot pads to protect her hands...

I'm still going to try and get this five baby baggy belly to reposition or go away...but decided if I did that it would be worse. Hmmm, one giant boob, no... a hump back, one large hip, Oh DARN! Naw.

Then I thought how about the thing I saw on TV the other day that flattens your stomach. Where does that fat go...right up into your neck and thoracic cavity so you look like you have a goiter and can't breathe to boot. 

So there you go! Asphyxiate to death, while looking good! I don't like that option.
This is grim...so picture this, a weirdly dressed, smelly, falling down, person who is able to stand extremes of temperature due to slow neuron movement.
But then I tried to think of one good thing as I usually do. And decided there was one good thing; as Social security runs out WA-LA who cares! You won't care or be bothered when forced to eat cat food and crackers because the taste and smell would be fine due to zero taste buds and no olfactory sense at all. (maybe not so okay with lumpy or stringy texture) You won't care about lots of miss matched old clothes either for now you can't distinguish anything except bright colors...Hmmm , that's a silver lining, sort-of-I guess.

Don't tell your kids about all this getting older stuff or they will not want to ever visit!