How is Progress Measured?

Measuring progress means many things to people. To me, progress is getting into bed and it only taking 10 minutes as opposed to the half hour it took a week ago. It is graduating to a cane, letting go of the crutch, being able to walk from the living room to the kitchen unassisted. Finding a comfortable way to sleep in bed. If you had asked me the same question 3 weeks ago my answers would have been totally different. Life has a way of making you humble.

Ahhhhhhh!!!!

So many things I can't do for fear of popping out the new hip, so many things that I used to just do and took for granted. Boy, life sure has a way of making you humble. Ii hate asking others for help, I am trying to do things for myself. I miss Bryon, he just knew when I needed help and he would be there. Ever tried putting on socks with one of those grabber things or scratching and itchy foot. Can't just bend over and do it now.  Seems that my new best friend is "the grabber" But on the lighter side I am being a good girl. I do my exercises and even find myself doing them when I am just standing around. Can walk (sort of) without any aid around the first floor of the house. I was going to post a picture of the incision but since it is rather gross I will forgo doing so.
Miss you so much Pooter Bear. Love you always.

Skateboarding

When people ask me how I broke my hip I tell the about the coyotes which is the truth. They sort of look at me because normally coyotes do not stalk.( just my luck to run into those outcasts that do) So in the future I am telling everyone that I fell off my skateboard doing a half pike. Hey I may have to get older but grow up??????Never!

Broken

I don't feel quite as broken. Got the 24 staples out today. Funny how such a simple thing can make you feel so much better. As the nurse was pulling them I felt Bryons presence with me. He would have been right in there.
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And Chelsea knows!!!

Coyotes

Coyotes and Bryon had an infinity to one and other. He would get off work, and sit in his truck to decompress and coyote would come out from the woods across the road and they would stare at one and other. Bryon loved "his coyote" I have never had a great fear of them, a lot of respect yes.I took my girls for the evening walk on the evening of Jan 11, I have a route I follow, past places where I know that people work late, and it is safe. It is in a industrial park with some wooded areas. I was on the last leg of the walk, walking in front of Penske Trucking where Bryon used to work. Something caught my girls attention and I looked across the street. Coyotes, not just one. They were very brazen trying to cross the street even with traffic. I had two choices, jog to where my car was 2 blocks away or go into Penske yard and wait, I decided the yard was my best bet. I asked one of the mechanics to try to scare off the coyotes so I could just get to my car, the coyote showed no sign of fear. I then decided to call my son to come and get us and take us to the car. I told him we were being stalked by coyotes, he thought I was crazy. The coyote crossed the street, my dogs lunged and I fell. Call Charles, where are you, I just fell. As he arrived he saw that in fact the coyotes were coming after us. They were not afraid of people or cars. He put his truck between us and the gate and got the girls in the car. I called my friend to come and get my car and take the girls home. No matter who I tried I could not stand up, such pain. Charles wanted to call 911 but me being so pigheaded told him I was just winded to give me a few minutes and I would be all right. Somehow I managed to crawl up into the running board of his truck and he did call 911. All this fuss for what I thought was a bruised hip, how embarassing. Well long and short of it is, I broke my hip in 2 places, and had surgery on Saturday night. Thank goodness for pain medication, having to wait 3 days for surgery.  Everyone should experience hip replacement surgery while awake. This was the best way to go, the one with the least amount of problems the surgeon decided. My blood pressure was not all that stable. So now, here I am finally at home, my girls are happy, I am happy. It will be over 3 months they tell me before I can start doing even the simplest of things. Right now I can't cross my legs, bend over, reach for anything that is not between my shoulders and waist, lift, bend over to pull my pants up or put shoes on. Being dependent on others to help me with just the day to day living is a very humbling experience. The pain is manageable, the crutches a royal pain, but we all came home, safe. My last recollection as I was loaded into the ambulance was hearing the baying of the coyotes. I have been told that there are about 6 living in the area, and right now it is mating season.

Hard to blog

It is really hard to blog from a hospital bed. I have been here since last Wed. Night. Walking the girls got stalked by coyotes. Fell broke hip had surgery on Sat. Tired more later.
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Dead men can't own or purchase restricted firearms!

Bryon had a gun collection, long guns, hand guns and some restricted. All legally registered and kept locked up. When he died I gave them to a friend who had a permit to own and transport weapons. He took them to the gun shop he dealt with and put them on consignment for me. I could not legally have them in the house as I do not have a FAC. (firearms acquisition certificate) The RCMP were notified of the guns new domicile so everything was legal. As the guns were sold I received notification from the RCMP as to the change in registration. They were no longer in Bryons name. Three months ago the gun shop told me that the RCMP needed proof of Bryons death and that I had authority to deal with his estate, I submitted all the paperwork they requested, even had to call them. That should have been the end, all I needed was to get all the paperwork as each gun was sold. Imagine my surprise when Bryon received a letter from the RCMP. I opened it up expecting another notification of a gun sale, instead there was Bryons picture staring up at me on his new FAC!  Why would they send a renewal to a dead man??? Oh good, there was a phone number I could call, so I did. I started out by giving the lady the FAC number and stating that my husband had died over a year ago, and yes they had been notified and they had the paperwork. She hummed a bit, click click click of the keyboard and she stated "yes I see that he is deceased" Once again I questioned why they renewed his FAC. Her comment went something like this" Well, we have downgraded his certificate, he can no longer purchase or own restricted firearms"  I had to tell her how happy I was that my DEAD husband could not longer buy or own restricted firearms, I surely will sleep better with this knowlege. She just didn't get it. Oh, she did offer to have any further letters addressed to me, pending her supervisors approval. She then told me I had to talk to the Gun Registry at the Provincial level, and she would transfer me over. They of course didn't answer the phone.

Peacefull

First pet peeve of the New Year

Having a week off was really nice, only problem is that I watched more telly that usual. What got to me was all the commercials. Fitness commercials, why do they show only thin, young people who really don't need a gym? Why not show middle/older aged people who really need one. How discouraging is that? Beer commercials, once again aimed at the "young, hip, sexy" generation. What is this, does the older, not so beautiful and hip generation not drink? Hey, we have money to spend as well, aim some of the stupid commercials at us, the real people! It seems that if we do not fit the profile we are put in the back of the closet.......hey real people it's time to come out, we have money to spend, we are not dead, we still enjoy life. Opps I forgot, I am getting old, time for the rocking chair.....NOT! So there you have it, New Years pet peeve #1