I got nothin’. If you checked out Working Stiffs on Wednesday, you’ve seen all my photography for the week. All that was worth posting, at least. So instead of Photo Friday, I’m beginning the countdown to the conference. The Pennwriters Conference is next week. Technically, it’s Friday through Sunday, but I’m leaving Wednesday so I can attend Tim Esaias’ daylong intensive fiction workshop on Thursday. And I’m not at all sucking up to the teacher by offering him a ride to Lancaster. Last year, as you may (or may not) recall, I was conference coordinator. This year, my sole duty, beyond that of conference Yoda (I sit in my cave in my swamp and offer guidance), is that of photographer. But I think I’m almost as stressed as I was a year ago. This year, I am pitching. The last time I pitched was in 2006. I signed with my agent back then. I un-signed with her this January. So I’m back in pitching practice. No, I’m not ready. Not even close. I have to confess…there was a moment or two yester...

I seem to have heard rumor that writers live solitary lives, alone with their computer (or typewriter or pen and paper). They never get to socialize. They become hermits. Notice the use of “they” rather than “we” even though I am one. I long for solitude. I dream of staying home all day long and holing up in my self-proclaimed cave (my tiny office). No human contact. Just me and Skye kitty and my writing. Instead, here is a sampling of the last two weeks: Monday, Nov. 3: AM appointment for yearly mammogram, PM Sisters in Crime meeting Tuesday, Nov. 4: AM meeting with insurance agent, PM appointment for dental cleaning Wednesday, Nov. 5: Teach yoga Thursday, Nov. 6: Take Mom to eye doctor then teach yoga Friday, Nov. 7: Take mom grocery shopping Saturday, Nov. 8: Work as proctor at the police recruits’ written exam. See post at Working Stiffs Sunday, Nov. 9: Attend memorial service for Linda Gilson Monday, Nov. 10: Attend Citizens’ Police Academy Tuesday, Nov. 11: AM teach yoga, PM atte...

Ain’t nothing ever easy around here. It was my plan to be shouting from the rooftops today that my mom was home. Good Friday was going to be VERY Good Friday. Well, she is home. But as I said, ain’t nothing ever that easy. I got her in the house and sat her down at the table to rest after the trip home. After a while, she decided to take a walk through her house. Understandable, since she’d been away for six weeks. But when she got into the bathroom, I sensed something wasn’t quite right. She got her feet splayed out and said she was stuck. I helped her sit on a stool that she keeps in there, but within a few minutes, she was listing. I’ve seen her do this before and caught her as she passed out, easing her down onto the floor, cushioning her head with my legs so it wouldn’t hit the bathtub. She was somewhat responsive to verbal stimuli, so I wasn’t completely freaked. But as I sat there, I pondered the possibilities. Calling an ambulance was high on my list, since no one else was arou...

I’ve calmed down a bit from my frazzled state of mind on Monday. I used the quiet time on my chiropractor’s spinalator to get a grip. Marvelous invention. They need to come up with a home version of it. With my mind relaxed and my bones back where they belong, I headed to Hazelwood, a neighborhood in Pittsburgh where I had never been before, for class one of the Citizen’s Police Academy. I love my GPS. Without it, I’d STILL be wandering the streets of Pittsburgh trying to find my way there (or home). Thanks to rush hour traffic, I came very close to being late. As it was, I slipped in right on time. My fellow Sister in Crime and Working Stiff, Gina, was already there, saving me a seat. Class one consisted of lots of talk. The Chief of Police, Nathan Harper, was there. So was the Chief of Detectives and a variety of public officials and politicians. Everyone welcomed us and promised us a fun experience. Then we had a lecture regarding the history of the police, going back to somewhere a...

Yesterday was one of those days fraught with material for a future work of fiction. It was also one of those days which are perfect for staying home, snuggled under an afghan with a good book and Skye kitty on my lap. Blustery and wickedly cold. Instead of hibernating, though, I had to drive into the city to visit Mom. When I left the house, the wind was brutal, but otherwise, the weather seemed tolerable for driving. However, a few miles down the road, snow began to fall. Soon, the road was coated with ice and blowing snow. Driving in snow doesn’t usually bother me. Ice is a different matter. But my trusty Saturn plugged along without missing a step. Of course, I slowed down and kept plenty of distance between me and car in front. Others had less patience and cruised past in the passing lane. Or attempted to. Near the Imperial exit, the remains of two separate crashes sat along the road. The first one in the opposite lanes involved several cars. Everyone seemed fined. They stood in th...

Mom came through yesterday’s five hour long surgery like a trooper. She’s getting all too used to these things. Dr. Ray replaced the entire hip socket again. The plastic liner he placed in it last time pulled out, causing the dislocation. So he’s trying something new. While he isn’t guaranteeing anything, he seems more confident that this might give Mom a viable hip…for more than three months. We’re back to square one in the recovery process. Or maybe square two. The part of the prosthesis that goes into the thigh bone didn’t have to be altered. But the new socket means she’s back to keeping all of her weight off that leg. Looks like she’ll be headed to the Health Center again for a few weeks once she’s discharged from the hospital, too. What she does NOT have to go through again is physical therapy. Dr. Ray says no more PT. Just walking.

I was merrily going along, enjoying my life, juggling a number of writing projects, when WHAM! Okay, it wasn’t a “wham.” It was the ringing of my phone. And my mom on the other end announcing that she thought she’d dislocated her hip. Mom was right. She didn’t fall, wasn’t doing anything she shouldn’t have. She was doing her exercises. Dr. Ray said he could try to get it back in and see what happens. But we all agreed. We’ve SEEN what happens. So, tomorrow, Mom goes back under the knife for her third hip revision surgery in six months. We’re hoping that third time’s a charm. Of course, we were hoping the first and second times were the charm, too. Apparently the powers that be did not share my plan of staying out of hospitals in 2008. On a lighter note, today is my day to blog over at Working Stiffs and we’re looking for signs of spring.

One of my favorite TV shows is House . This week, I felt like I’d stepped into my own personal episode of the medical mystery series. My knee has been bothering me on and off for quite some time now. Lately, it’s been more on than off. So I decided to make an appointment for myself at the same time as Mom’s appointment Tuesday. I don’t know what I expected. I wasn’t in enough pain enough of the time to warrant surgery. I hate needles. I guess I just wanted to find out what was happening in there. So off I went to x-ray. When the pictures came up on the computer screen (all digital now, you know) even I could see something weird, not in the joint, but in the bone below the knee, the tibia. Ah, I thought. That’s my lumpy shin. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve had a lump on my right shin bone. I contributed it to being gang-tackled during a game of dodge ball back in bible school. One doctor told me it was a greenstick fracture. Another called it an extended tibia. No one ever x-rayed it. I...

After five long days in the hospital, my mom is back at the Health Center. There’s nothing like a few days in Allegheny General to make us appreciate the wonderful care she gets at the Washington County Health Center. According to plan (and we all know how well our plans work out) she’ll be there for another week and then HOME. I sure hope it’s just one more week. I’m beginning to literally break out in hives from the stress. Or maybe it’s the Retin-A that my dermatologist started me on to combat the sun damage my face suffered in my youth, before we knew about skin cancer. I’ve had two pre-cancerous sunspots frozen off already and this treatment is supposed to keep more of those things from marring my face further. But the treatment is playing its own particular havoc in the form of red splotches and peeling skin. What joy. So my face is sore and itchy. But that’s not what’s causing me the most grief at the moment. It’s the pounding in my head. No, I’m not becoming a hypochondriac. A...

Mom made it through yesterday’s surgery. My brother and I set up camp in the tenth floor waiting room of Allegheny General…a room I’ve become much too familiar with. He read a David Baldacci novel ( Last Man Standing ) between naps. I read Laura Lippman’s The Last Place . When we noticed the common theme of our reading choices, we agreed that we hoped this was also the LAST hip surgery Mom would need. The prognosis is good. Dr. Ray doesn’t think she will dislocate again, though being a smart man, he admits to making no promises. She shouldn’t need the brace anymore, but will be on a walker for another six weeks. We can live with that. She will be in the hospital until the end of the week. After that it’s anybody’s guess. I had an interesting drive home. I don’t know that I’ve ever been in the city on a night when the Steelers were playing Monday Night Football before or not. I rather think not. Perhaps last night’s festivities were kicked up because of the presence of the Steelers’ A...

Last Friday, I wrote about the light at the end of the tunnel and how I feared it might turn out to be a train. Well, it was. Mom was supposed to come home today. I had her to the doctor on Tuesday and he took her out of her brace, pleased with the healing shown on the x-rays. All was good. And then yesterday, while sitting in her chair reading the newspaper, the hip dislocated again. I followed the ambulance into Allegheny General Hospital as it transported her to the emergency room. After more x-rays and a thorough exam, they asked me where the brace was. It was at home. I had to drive home, get the brace, and drive back to the city, a two-hour round trip, while they put Mom under and put the hip back in joint. Thank goodness for Starbucks. I was cruising on the strength of a venti white chocolate mocha. Once it was all done, I was able to drive Mom back to the Health Center, arriving there around 10:30 last night. What a day. So she’s scheduled for more surgery next week. Obviously,...

After a rough couple of weeks, the results are all in. My biopsy came back negative…NO CANCER. Skye, while negative for cancer, is a very strong positive for Bartonella . I’m still learning about this nasty little infection, but I’ll take it over oral cancer again in a heartbeat. Mom had a check-up this morning with the surgeon. Her hip is healing well, but slowly. She’s stuck in that dreaded brace of hers for another four weeks. If she can go that long without dislocating, we’ll be in good shape and we can beef up the rehab. For now, it’s more of the same: hanging out in the Health Center with light physical therapy. I’m thrilled that the x-rays look so promising. Of course, he didn’t tell her she could lose the brace and go dancing tonight, so Mom is less than happy. Enough of this medical and veterinary stuff. Now I need to free up some time on my calendar and get back to writing!

I’ve always said don’t ever ask what else could go wrong? Or say that things can’t get any worse. The universe has a way of laughing in your face. And, honest, I didn’t say either of those things. The cliché I mistakenly toyed with was that which does not kill us serves to make us stronger. Why the hell do I need to be that strong? I cried out to the heavens. Okay, add that one to my list of things one should never ask. During my annual mammogram yesterday, they found “something.” When I went back this morning for a biopsy, they gave that “something” a name. They called it a nodule. The last nodule I had grew into a monster uterine fibroid that had to be surgically removed six years ago. But I’m not getting into that. I saw two different doctors and both agree that most likely this nodule thing is nothing. One went so far as to say she was 100 percent certain. She must have seen the look on my face as I prepared to ask: What the hell am I doing here, then? Because she back-peddled ...

As a writer, research is a big part of my life. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. Very often, life experience brings me a certain level of expertise that I’d rather not have. Because of my dad, I learned more than I ever wanted to know about cardiovascular disease, dementia, and the extreme amounts of paperwork involved in the medical assistance process. My cousin has given me a look at brain injury and its after-effects. I am now an expert on squamous cell carcinoma and administering medications to cats courtesy of my dear, sweet Sammie. Now, I know a lot more terminology about hip surgery than I ever cared to learn. For instance, we all know about hip replacement surgery. But did you know that when a hip replacement is replaced, it’s called a hip revision? I learned that a few weeks ago when my mom had one. Now I also know that the procedure to put a dislocated hip back in is called a reduction. When done without cutting, it’s a closed reduction. If surgery is required, it’s an...

I’ve spent the last two days in veterinarians’ and doctors’ offices hearing not the greatest news. Nothing horrible or life-threatening, mind you. Just not the “all’s right with the world” news that one always hopes for. Yesterday morning, I took Skye for her first post-adoption vet check-up. It seems her gums are terribly inflamed and she’s missing a few of her little front teeth. So I’ve scheduled a full dental cleaning and exam for her. Hopefully that clears it up. Otherwise, the doc wants to do bloodwork to check for something called Bartonella , which I’d never heard of before. The good news is that it’s treatable with some heavy duty antibiotics. Hey, after what I went through with Sammie’s mouth, I’ll happily do whatever it takes. At least it IS treatable. And Little Miss Skye was a perfect angel at the vets. Didn’t even protest when the tech trimmed her nails. Now for the other less-than-good news. My mom had her post-op check-up this morning and x-rays show that her hip has di...

With Mom settled into the Health Center, doing exceptionally well with her therapy, hubby and I are seizing the opportunity to escape for a few days. It was Mom’s idea, months ago, that while she was rehabbing, we sneak in a vacation. My first reaction was, NO, I couldn’t do that…leave her there and go off to have fun. Then as time went on and Sammie passed, I thought, well, maybe. So we’re going camping. Of course, NOW Mom is hitting me with a guilt trip, telling me how she’s going to miss me. I’m used to the guilty looks Sammie used to give me when she spotted us packing. No matter how discreet I tried to be, she knew. As sad as I am over her absence in my life, I thought I’d at least be able to take a vacation without dealing with the guilt of leaving her behind. Instead, I get to feel guilty about leaving Mom behind. Sigh. But I know she’ll be fine. And I’ll have my cell phone. What did we do before cell phones? I’ll tell you what we did. We escaped on vacations in ignorant bliss, ...

It occurred to me today that for the biggest part of this year, I’ve been distraught. In January, I was distraught over my dad’s declining health and his eventual passing. In February, I started my Sammie kitty on chemo following the news that the cancer was back. In March, my cousins were in that horrible car crash. After that came long, painful months of watching Patty struggle her way back from brain injury and hovering over Sammie, watching for symptoms to develop. And they did. At the same time as Sammie’s health grew worse, Mom’s pain also increased and surgery became imminent. Sammie’s battle ended and Mom’s operation came and went along with an array of complications. Wednesday, we transferred Mom to the Washington County Health Center for rehab. She’s doing fabulous. All the post-op complications have resolved themselves and she spent yesterday sitting up in a wheelchair between rounds of occupational therapy and physical therapy. I took a side trip up to the third floor where...

I'm over at Working Stiffs today telling about my experiences in the city this week. Come on over and join us. Mom update: They finally got her up again yesterday and she didn't pass out. YAY! Still a long way to go, though...

It’s been a roller coaster weekend following my mom’s operation. She gave us all a real scare on Friday when her body started showing the stress of a very difficult surgery. She passed out when they tried to teach her to stand and again when they tried to get her back in bed. Her blood pressure plummeted and her heart rate soared. Her hemoglobin count and oxygen levels were down and her blood sugar was up. At 2:30 Saturday morning, they transferred her to the cardiovascular unit. Five units of blood later, she’s doing much better. Each day finds her feeling stronger. But they haven’t made an effort to get her up again yet. They want her numbers to be on more solid ground first. In other family news, Patty is home!!! After a very long haul (the accident was March third), she is finally out of the nursing facility. I’d love to say that she’s back living next door to me, but sadly, the house was seized and sold at sheriff’s sale. But she’s living only five minutes away and I intend on k...

Patience is a virtue. Or so I’ve been told. For me, it’s a matter of survival. I sent my manuscript to my agent on Tuesday. Now I wait. I have lots of practice. Yesterday, my mom had her hip replacement surgery. Or hip REVISION surgery to use the correct technical term. It’s a replacement of a replacement. The original replacement took place in 1976, in the dark ages of such procedures. The last four or five weeks have been torture for my mom as the pain seemed to grow exponentially day by day. We had to be at the hospital by 5AM yesterday morning. That meant leaving here by 3:30AM. Early even by my standards. The rain started at 3:15 and continued to pour the entire dark drive into Pittsburgh. Dark, that is, except for the vivid lightning that nearly burnt out my retinas. But we made it with time to spare. There is very little traffic at that hour. Parking was plenty and the hospital corridors leading into the main lobby were silent and eerie. We had to wait for the registration desk ...