As I was crawling around on the floor, it suddenly struck me that I really needed to write a blog entry! WOW! That's the first time in a few months that old familiar, nagging sensation returned. Hello world! Remember me? Now, back to me crawling around on the floor...

I've always been a cat person with periods of having dogs also, but for the past 17 years I've only had cats. Today, was a wonderful reminder why! Although my pooches are adorable, the younger of the two can be worse than running after a two year old child who likes to get into everything. Who needs a paper shredder when there's a doodle dog (dachshund/poodle mix) in the house? Did I say paper shredder? I really mean shredder of EVERYTHING (beds included)!

After making my rounds and finding my glucometer had been been molested, I discovered the apparatus that I use to stick my finger had been destroyed (chewed beyond recognition). I have to admit there are days I feel like doing exactly that, BUT...I guess this is where being further up on the food chain comes into play!

The glucometer fiasco did however remind me to call the diabetic supply company to find out why I haven't received my shipment of diabetic supplies. After being put on hold for 5 minutes, I hung up and called back only to be put on hold again and while I was sitting there slowly smoldering, the phone line went dead and my DSL went down. I went downstairs to check those phones, only to find that the problem was only on the upstairs phones. Hmmmmm! I grabbed the phone from downstairs and proceeded to call the company back. This time I told the customer service rep I didn't wish to be placed on hold (don't mess with a frustrated owner of a shih tzu and a doodle!)

After researching the problem, I was told that the Rx they received from my doctor didn't include the quantity on it. They had faxed my doctor's office on May 25th requesting a corrected Rx and was waiting for a response. May 25th and today is June 14th? WTF? At that point I did what most people would do. I inquired why no follow up had been done when they didn't hear back from my doctor's office. I had called them several weeks before my supplies run out so there wouldn't be a problem. I guess that'll teach me for assuming people actually will do their jobs and give a shit about their customers. I mean after all, it's not like a diabetic needs to test their blood sugar! [conspiracy theory: population control-kill all diabetics]

So, while I was scurrying around after the phonecall trying to track down the phone problem, I discovered my line had been chewed through right above the DSL/phone splitter, but the darling puppy was gracious enough to leave about a inch of line so I could splice it back together. All the while I was crawling around on the floor, the guilty party who will remain nameless kept eyeballing me. Oh momma, please don't be mad at me!

And speaking of mothers... oh, on second thought, let's not go there right now. Let's jump right to what in the world has Mildred been doing during her period of silence or what I like to call severe mental constipation.

I've been knee deep in medical tests the last couple of months. I'm beginning to think I must have donated my body to medical research somewhere along the way and had forgotten about it. I've been prodded, poked, pushed and thoroughly examined only to be sent back for more tests and the inclusive verdict to date reveals that I definitely have gastroparesis and "something" on/in my liver and pancreas so says the abdominal ultrasound I had done. Hmmmmmmmmm! Doesn't that give you a warm, fuzzy feeling? It does me! It's almost as good as being told I have to eat "moosh" the rest of my life, but hey, it sure beats the alternative. Yes, I said "moosh"! "Moosh" as in grinding up or pureeing my food so my stomach can digest it. "Moosh" so the bile will stop feeling like my stomach is a great place to call home. So, 25 pounds lighter, it's time for that brief and very long overdue positive thought: the gratitude statement. Are you ready for this one?

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful that laughter is truly the world's best medicine and that even on my worst day, I can still find the humor in most anything.

All gibberish within ©2004-2011 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.


  1. when I was younger, I listened to all old farts and swore that I would NEVER spend my time in conversation bemoaning aches, pains and various ailments. geez, there had to be more to an old person's life than that.

    well, here I am, at the age where most of my conversation is spent doing the same thing. god I hate it.

    karen: my heart goes out to you. on the plus side, 25 pounds lighter? now, that's something worth talking about. okay, not funny, but...

    last saturday, I found out the cats chewed through my phone cord. i thought only dogs did such things. live and learn.

    i'm wishing you the best during your trials. what, exactly, did we do to deserve this crap?
    maybe we truly are "paying for our raising" as my mother used to say.

    and you're right. you have to laugh...otherwise the day would be spent crying...and that's so unproductive. and makes the eyes and face puffy and red.

  2. I stop by regularly, hoping to see you post.
    Thanks for doing so!

  3. these are supposed to be the years that we can enjoy life....WTF. As you wrote, laughter IS truly the best medicine and my sense of humor is the only thing keeping me from admitting myself in my final home.....the nursing home!!!
    Cheers to the Golden Years!!