Amazing Zippered Woman

A Sigh of Relief

The Big Irishman and I spent two days in Tucson last week for my annual pick, prod and poke. As many of you have been able to read between the lines - I have suspected for months that there might be something wrong with Perpetua. I can’t put my finger on the reasons for this suspicion. Something just didn’t feel right. Well, I’m pleased to announce ….. Perpetua is doing just fine and, aside from my paranoia, I guess I’m okay too. For those who are interested in all the gory details, I’ll walk you through the PPP process.

We got up at 4:15 am on Tuesday, May 22nd. I had to shower and shave my legs. God knows that one must always have freshly shaved legs if one is going to be knocked unconscious and be skewered like a kabob. Tom drove to Tucson while I dozed and complained about everything I could think of to complain about. (The man is a saint.)

We parked and immediately went to the lab. The head vampire sucked out 11 vials of my blood in order to perform at least 106,000 tests. There was a STAT order placed on my labs. I think STAT stands for “Shanlee’s Tough and Terrific.” From the lab, we went directly to out-patient surgery where I was greeted by my favorite nurse, Chuck. He took care of me during my two rejections - post transplant. He has since moved to the cath. lab. We chatted, and as usual, he gave me tons of great information.

He said that the second year after transplant is the toughest. The emotional high is gone, and reality rears its ugly head. You start to realize that the meds have really nasty side effects, and that you have to work hard to maintain good health. You also start to feel like this whole situation is just too good to be true. You begin to wait for a crisis that will end your wonderful new life. I am also constantly aware, to the point of obsession, of the huge responsibility I have to Perpetua. I often wonder if I’m doing enough to protect her and honor her memory. Please don’t misunderstand. These are just small bumps in the road - a tiny little price to pay for my wonderful second chance. That said, it was still nice to have Chuck validate my feelings and explain that these thoughts are all part of the transplant process - all recipients walk a similar road. 

I also talked to him about the fact that I’ve been sick 9,763,211 times in the past year. I’ve missed lots of fum stuff and I’m tired of taking antibiotics. Chuck assured me that this is “Standard Operating Procedure,” and that the second year is also the worst in terms of frequency of illness. Soooooooo, I’m looking ahead to a much better third year with my beautiful Perpetua.

A quick run-down of my results:

The heart cath. showed that I have great pressures in both ventricles and my pumping sequence is perfect. There is absolutely no sign of enlargement or rejection. ALL of my arteries are totally open - with no sign of even a beginning blockage.

The abdominal ultrasound revealed that my pancreas, liver and kidneys are normal. One of my liver ducts is slightly enlarged - probably because I have had my gall bladder removed. There are 2 tiny  cysts on my right kidney, but that is perfectly normal for someone my age. I guess all old ladies have acne on their kidneys.

My chest x-ray showed normal lungs. It also showed that my breast  bone never fused. This is probably because my chest has been cracked so many times. It makes a “clicking” noise when I move a certain way. Dr. Copeland isn’t quite sure what we are going to do about this. I’ll keep you posted.

Probably the greated news off all:  My echo cardiogram showed that my ejection fraction has increased from 60 a year ago to 63 - probably because of my exercise.  F.Y.I. - normal is 65 and the ejection fraction of my old heart on the morning of my transplant was 13.

My labs were great - kidney and liver panels all within the range of normal. This means that the drugs aren’t slowly destroying my organs.

The most fun part of our Tucson adventure was staying with our friends, Jon and Colette. We enjoyed a fabulous dinner cooked by Jon and lots of super conversation. The low point was having my kootchie-foo shaved by the best looking guy in the cath. lab.  

A Sign From Above

Today began just like any other day. I awakened, splashed water on my face, said my morning prayers, and went outside to gather the morning paper. I poured my usual breakfast and headed for the deck. I kinda stumbled going up the stairs because I was trying to peruse the morning headlines as I ascended. When I opened the sliding door, a fairly large bird (it might have been a condor) flew over and deposited a gigantic whoopooties directly on my Garfield slipper. As I was washing and disinfecting my slipper, I accidentally got alcohol-based hand sanitizer in my left eye. Oh well, not to worry. I can easily read with just one eye.

I seated myself at the table and was just beginning to read all the pro-Bushie vitriol on the editorial page (I use these articles every morning to awaken Perpetua and get her really pumping.) I could feel my righteous indignation building to a crescendo. Suddenly, my breakfast splashed from the glass - as though it had a life of its own.

When I dared to open my eyes, I found that a large rock had landed in my martini (I mean breakfast.) I had no choice but to believe that this object had fallen from the sky. I COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED.  But I wasn’t. My glass didn’t even break.  I started thinking……. “Maybe it’s a sign from above. Maybe I need to rethink some things. My political views are brilliant and perfect in every way, so it must be something else. What message should I receive from this very rare experience?  Maybe I’m supposed to rethink my choice of breakfast beverage.” Suddenly, as if by magic, the answer came to me. The mystery message became clear.  I’M SUPPOSED TO PUT 3 OLIVES IN MY BREAKFAST MARTINIS - NOT JUST 2. I feel like I’m a new woman - now that one of life’s mysteries has been solved.   

Another Birthday Salute

James Gregory Johnson is …..

….. a senior in high school in this picture.

….. hoping no one notices how wide his tie is.

….. very concerned about his shiny nose.

….. thinking he probably should have washed his hair.

….. absolutely certain that he is much better looking than his older brother, John.

….. tender-hearted and has an amazing rapport with all God’s creatures.

….. one of the most personable people I have ever known.

….. a very successful salesman who could sell snowballs to Eskimos.

….. a great communicator who has the ability to make everyone feel respected and important.

….. in possession of an amazing sense of humor.

…..  a loving and tender husband and father to wonderful Linda and  talented Parker.

…..  handsome, bald and scrappy.

…..  the guy who did the heavy lifting during Mom and Dad’s last years.

….. and always will be my beloved little brother.

…..  the kind of man who would make our father proud.

Happy Birthday, Jimmy.

I love you. 

The Gift of Another Year

Today marks the second anniversary of my heart transplant. We are  traveling to California to spend Mother’s Day with Tom’s mom. I will spend most of the car-ride thinking about my donor and her family. As I celebrate, they are remembering a very sad time. I pray that my spirit can, in some way, communicate to them how deeply I appreciate their gift to me.  

Preparing to Say Goodbye

For several years Mary Lou has been visiting the PETSMART grooming center every six weeks for a special Spa Day - mani, pedi, hair style, etc. About a year ago, the witch who manages the joint informed me that M.L. was no longer welcome because her shots weren’t current. My vet and I are in total agreement that very old dogs should not be given any immunizations. All their bodily systems get  very fragile as they age, and injecting them with anything foreign isn’t a great idea. I tried to explain this easily-understood concept to the groomer nazi, but was told that NO EXCEPTIONS WOULD BE MADE. After respectfully shouting into the phone, “Kiss my tail - you nazi, groomer witch.” I slammed down the receiver and gently tried to explain to Mary Lou that we would need to find someone else to help her with her beauty needs.

Mary Lou and I started doing extensive research and interviewing. We finally found Tina, who is a mobile groomer. We toured her truck and had her fill out several employment questionnaires. She and Mary Lou seemed to have an instant rapport. So we set up a grooming schedule and shook hands on the deal.

Mary Lou had a Spa Day today and things didn’t go very well. Tina knocked on the door about 10 minutes into the session, and told me that M.L. had just had a seizure. I went out to the truck. The seizure was over, but Mary Lou couldn’t use her hind legs. After about 15 minutes, she recovered enough to continue her bath. When Tina walked M.L. into the house at the end of her Spa Day, she told me that she had discovered two more size-able tumors on my doggie-girl’s body. She said that she thought we should probably start preparing ourselves to say ”Goodbye” to our beloved Mary Lou. I really trust Tina’s knowledge and judgement. She had tears in her eyes as we talked.

Please say a prayer and think peaceful thoughts for our Mary Lou. Pray that her last  days are filled with painless play, lots of love from her humans, and an endless supply of doggie cookies. While you’re at it, say a prayer that we will have the strength and wisdom to know when it’s time to let her go. 

A Salute to the Birthday Boy

John Grewe Johnson II is …..

….. the largest of the two boys in this picture.

….. really sad that the sleeves of his coat are too short.

….. casually pushing on his brother Jim’s foot - trying to make him cry.

….. really embarrassed to appear in a picture with a girl who has such ugly hair.

….. saying to himself, “This is the dumbest story I’ve ever heard.”

….. one of the kindest, most sensitive men I have ever known.

….. the owner of Johnson’s Landscaping and has the greatest work ethic of any man I have ever known.

….. a wonderful husband to beautiful Cyndee.

….. gentle and loving father to Meredith and Morgan.

…..  strong as an ox, bald, and very handsome.

….. always ready to help friends and family.

….. much more appreciated by his sister now that she’s older.

….. a super brother who I am - oh so very proud of.

….. the kind of son my father always wanted.

I love you, John.

Happy Birthday.

Traffic Reroute

Last year I made a wreath for our front door. I was new to wreath-making, so I went to Michael’s and spent approximately 5 times what most people spend on a prefabricated wreath - just acquiring items that I felt were necessary to construct my premier wreath. Among my purchases was a fake bird who I named Arnold after the governor of California. My rationale was that Arnold (my fake bird) was good-looking, but didn’t seem very bright. Below is a picture of my wreath hanging on our front door. Can you find Arnold nestled among the flowers and foliage?

He is perched at the bottom of the wreath, just a little to the right of center. You can just see his little head above a yellow leaf. Now I must introduce you to Finny, a house finch who lives in our yard. I could not talk her into posing for a photo. Apparently, several days ago, Finny found herself in a very uncomfortable position - unmarried and pregnant. I guess her boyfriend dumped her because she spotted Arnold in my wreath and it was LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. It only took her an afternoon to build a nest and move in.

Very shortly, Tom during a routine porch inspection, discovered that the nest contained 4 tiny blue eggs. Being a lover of all living things, he immediately posted a sign warning people that traffic was temporarily rerouted through the garage. He also arranged an old trailer mirror so we could keep an eye on the little mother - just in case she needs anything.

The sign ….

… and the mirror.

Now …. it gives me great pleasure to announce the births of Fuzz, (first born) Boom, (second) and Snerd (third.) We are still waiting for the last egg to hatch. Fuzz-Boom, and Snerd are names that we gave dust-balls under the bed when my kids were growing up. Tom is a maniac about these babies. He has called 3 times today to see how they’re doing. Now that they are peeping, he acts as though they are saying, “Grandpa.” I hope you can see the babies in this next picture. Just look for little hints of fluff. This man really needs human grandchildren.

I’ll keep you posted on our new feathered grandchildren. I’m going outside now to have a little talk with Arnold. He really isn’t doing his share. Finny seems to be taking all the responsibility.

NEVER AGAIN

Did you know that at three minutes and four seconds after two a.m. this morning - the time and date was:

     02:03:04   05/06/07 

This will never happen again, and I bet you missed it. 

Na Na Na Naaa Na ! 

BURNING QUESTIONS - Volume I

I’m currently searching for the answers to several BURNING QUESTIONS. (BURNING QUESTIONS as opposed to EXTINGUISHED QUESTIONS) This activity is keeping me up at night. Perhaps you can help me find some answers and put these fires out.

1.  Did you ever wonder about those people who spend $2.00 apiece on those little bottles of EVIAN water? Have they ever bothered to spell EVIAN backwards?

2.  Isn’t making a smoking section in a restaurant like making a peeing section in a swimming pool?

3.  If 4 out of 5 people SUFFER from diarrhea, does that mean that 1 person ENJOYS it?

4.  If people from Poland are called POLES, then why aren’t people from Holland called HOLES?

5.  Do infants enjoy INFANCY as much as adults enjoy ADULTRY?

6.  If a pig loses its voice, is it DISGRUNTLED?

7.  Why do croutons come in airtight packages? Aren’t they just stale bread?

8.  Why is a person who plays the piano called a PIANIST, but a race-car driver is not called    a RACIST?

9.  Why isn’t the number 11 pronounced ONETY-ONE?

10. If lawyers are DISBARRED and clergymen are DEFROCKED, then why doesn’t it follow that electricians are DELIGHTED, musicians are DENOTED, cowboys are DERANGED, models are DEPOSED, tree surgeons are DEBARKED, and dry cleaners DEPRESSED?

So if you’re just chatting with friends in the hot tub - throw out some of these questions.

Or please spend a few minutes cogitating on my questions during your morning constitutional.

Or maybe after you finish your morning work out, you could hit the library for some research.

Please get back to me ASAP.  

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

Military big-shots got their little hands slapped on Capitol Hill last week. This scolding resulted from their dishonest attempts to spin horrible events in both Afghanistan and Iraq into heroic military happenings - all for the purpose of boosting public support for these immoral wars.

Congressional testimony from relatives of Cpl. Pat Tillman (ASU football star and Arizona Cardinals standout) was especially telling. Tillman was killed by friendly fire in Afghanistan in 2004. The U. S. military immediately reported to the public and Tillman’s family that he died a hero while facing enemy fire. To further perpetuate this hoax, they awarded him the Silver Star posthumously. This was not just a misunderstanding that occurred during the heat of battle. It was a deliberate lie fabricated by both soldiers and commanders in their sworn statements - almost immediately after the fratricide. The Pentagon’s inspector general even admitted that somehow the statements “got edited.” Kinda reminds me of how the lack of proof of WMDs in Iraq “got edited” into absolute proof.

Pfc. Jessica Lynch also testified. You remember - she was the beautiful young girl whose ordeal and dramatic rescue in Iraq became a movie. The government’s version of her story was transformed into an inspirational message designed to support Bushie’s foreign policy. Her testimony last week, totally negated the government’s version of what actually happened. I guess her story also “got edited.” She didn’t fight off any enemy soldiers. In fact, she never even fired her gun. This dramatic lie was generated to help the American people embrace Bushie’s war in Iraq. Just as Tillman’s death story was rewritten to divert attention from the Abu Ghraib scandal which was causing outrage around the world.

These are examples of the deep level of deception within the United States military. It’s also yet another reminder of this administration’s tendency to create whatever lies are necessary to protect itself. When the generals tell us that, “The surge is working,” -  will you believe them?