Currently in Sleepy Hollow (aka Coosada)

 

7:27am, Friday

Wow, y'all.  I don't know if I'm about to become an Absentee blogger -- or a Chronic Compulsive one. 

Hard to believe, less than 48 hours ago the biggest thing pressing on my mind was deciding whether to make another batch of crack chicken or slow-cooker spaghetti.  Then the UPS truck arrived. 'Double-meat-zero-bean' chile it is!

I know, I know.  Some of you are probably weary of hearing me wax euphoric about Hatch green chile.  Given last year's disappointing crop, I was coveting this season's delivery -- not unlike a junkie craves his next fix.  

It's here, it's here!

I'd just stepped out back to dispose of dry ice and heard Pastor Janet's calling my name from the other side of the gate.   No doubt, I was a spectacle:  no make-up ... can't remember when last I combed my hair ... clad in gardening gloves and rubber waders.  

In response to, "What are you doing?" I launched into an excited-but-illogical explanation.   Later I LOL'd at her comment on my FB page:  "Myra, I misunderstood what you were talking about this afternoon. I thought you meant "Chili" -- ya know, with meat and beans.  When you talked about the difference in the soil, I was really puzzled.  Now it all makes sense!" 

Ya-da-da-da-dah.

All that above was written before 8 this morning. 12 hours ago.  Before Tom waved the proverbial white flag and agreed to go to the hospital.

You see, I don't like to continually harp here on his/our ongoing struggle with the osteo myelitis.   But given his pain levels, the doc felt it prudent to order another MRI yesterday.

My view from INSIDE the dressing room.

Trapped, party of one!

Long story short, we were directed to the trauma hospital's ER. Wow, y'all.  52 ER rooms (I asked) and still, they had bodies on stretchers lining the halls.  Sure gives this blogger a better appreciation for professional caregivers.  

Anyway.  Without mincing words, this afternoon the neurosurgeon announced Tom needed to have surgery tomorrow -- or risk imminent paralysis.  Not unkindly, he wasn't open to negotiations.  

We're shocked to realize the last 5 weeks' infusion treatments have basically been for naught, while the abscess has grown unchecked.  Scary stuff.  If you're inclined to pray, we sure appreciate it.

Who else can relate?

Gotta laugh or we cry!

 

Hugs, Myra