Grooming...things I hate

Luck...Things I Love

"I eat cake because it's somebody's birthday"

Wow what a lucky person I am.  My beautiful daughter and my sister (from another set of parents) threw me the best birthday party ever!  First of all my beautiful daughter flew my mom in as a surprise.  How she pulled that off I will never know.

Then my daughter and Dar decorated my whole house with beautiful quilts and tons of flowers! When I say tons I mean tons.  There were Roses, Hydrangeas, Gerbera Daisies, Tulips and some I don't know the names of.  It was a pink (duh) orange and white explosion.  Some of the flowers were in large clear vases and some were in Darla's precious glass wear that Tim found for her on their ranch.  The table had my favorite raspberry quilt of Dar's with the flowers and candles on top. I loved every inch of it!

They wouldn't let me see it until right before the party and when I saw it I almost cried.  They thought of everything.  Food from Mi Cocina's, drinks, wine in hot pink wine glasses, watermelon vodka drinks from my son and law.

Speaking of my son in law... Me being me decided the week before the party I wanted a new nook table.  So I asked Justin to make me a table.  What's he going to say, no?  I mean I'm his mother in law with the Shit Ass Disease.  Any way he made me a beautiful table with a gorgeous herringbone top, criss cross legs and tall enough to get my wheelchair under! What a son in law.

Now my granddaughter topped everything off with a hand made birthday banner.  She is 6 for God's sake! Not only did she make the banner she decorated the table outside!  Martha Stewart has nothing on this 6 year old!

I just had a few of my favorite people come.  But that is what makes a great party. I love everyone that came.

                                 

This isn't a good shot of flowers, but beautiful anyway.

More flowers.

Flowers (in case you couldn't tell)

Tim and Dar

Brittany and Katy

JJ and Chris

Laura and Dar

She made this banner and decorated the table by herself.

Ms. Sassy Pants

Sweet babies.

YUM!

Dar, pink hair don't care and my 87 year old mother.

Mom, Channa and me.

Birthday on...

Sue "CiCi" Cook

Dr. Death...Things I Hate

I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Death a few weeks back.  He was so charming and what a personality Dr.  Death had to go with all that charm. Dr. Death is no idiot, no, no he is a Neuromuscular  Pulmologist. There are only two in the Dallas/Ft Worth area, so man was I lucky to get in!  I thought I was getting my breathing tested. He started our conversation with the steps one by one of my death. I won't go into details, but boy did he.

To make a long story short he said I would next be needing a Tracheotomy, I started to tell him I wasn't going to do that...he snapped at me he wasn't finished.  Channa knew he was dead in the water at the moment.  He went  on to say I would also need a feeding tube. When the little prick got finished I told him I would not be getting either one.  He said well then you at some point will need to call Hospice.  He said I would be given the choice to die whenever I choose. He went into detail on how that would happen.  I actually felt a little peace in that information. I did, however ask him what would be the difference between Hospice giving me drugs, taking me off my breathing machine and me swallowing a bunch oh pills on my own. He said, "that would be suicide". that made total sense to me. Hospice is taking me off of something that is keeping me alive to die naturally.  Big difference. Hospice will my choice, which I am now using.

Now the hard part...family.  Dr. Death said as long as you have something to live for you can live as long as you like.  Well isn't that a contradiction you little fuck!  I of course jumped in and said, I couldn't disagree with you more, so did Channa.  I wanted to jump out of my wheelchair and strangle him to near death and ask him how it feels? Of course I have reasons to live, but at what cost? The loss of every part of my body, the no dignity left and, the tears that flow every time fifty times a day that I and either Mike or Channa perform another one of those indignities?

Now the second hard part.  When?  What a decision to make.  I love my family so much.  How do you say good bye to them and die when you have a perfectly clear mind, but your body has completely stopped working. H ow do you say good bye to those beautiful grand-babies that only know me as their CiCi. They have literally known me their entire lives. How do you tell them good bye and I love you more than you will ever imagine.  They are so young and I will miss their whole lives here on earth.  Breaks my heart.  Then there is Channa. She has already lost a brother and now to lose a mother and a best friend. She will be left with her father, whom there are struggles with. Thank GOD she has her husband and children to love and get her through this. Again breaks my heart. Then there is Mike. To be married to one person for 42 years, then poof they are gone out of your life forever.

Now the easy part.  I will get to see Chase after 17 years. I will get to touch his beautiful face. I can see us now sitting on a cloud, turning lights on and off to freak out people we love and anything else we can think off. I will have my body back and I will run and run and float in the most beautiful pool you could ever imagine surrounded by flowers and over looking a beach with water the color of the waters of  Nice, France. And most importantly I will meet Jesus. What a pleasure and honor that will be. To finally meet someone I have talked to on a daily basis for most of my life.

So I am not sure what day I will choose but it will be soon. I am tired but have things I need to take care of first.  So for now I will just stress daily on the when..


Stress on...
Sue "CiCi"Cook

Sucking, Suckers, Suck...Things I Hate

WINE improves with age I improve with wine

I guess all things can be difficult, but TSAD takes everything to a new level.  I Have 3/4 of one arm left and everything else is paralyzed. I have had to learn to do everything with my left hand and I'm right handed.  But there is a silver lining to everything... I can now drive my wheel chair while carrying a glass of wine!  Your welcome fellow wheelchair users.  You are also welcome for those of you who may want to try it not believing it can be done.

Now being the honest person that I am, here is the newest outright embarrassing thing to be added to my long list of embarrassing things. It's called padded panties. Well that's not what it's really called but that is my term and I'm sticking with it. That's all I have to say on that subject.

While I'm on the subject of embarrassing things, a few weeks ago Channa shaved my legs for me.  Friday night I wore shorts to watch Emerson cheer-leading.  I look down with the glowing sun only to be horrified by the inch long hairs on my skinny atrophied legs. Emerson came over to me and said "Wow, CiCi you have some long hair on your legs".  Thanks for yelling so the whole place turned around and looked Angel Face!

That is my embarrassing facts for the week.

Embarrassing on...

Sue "CiCi" Cook

Funny Girl...Things I love

As always it was a typical day in the life of living at the Cook house.  When it comes to Mike, I mean I'm talking the man changes second by second like Heckle and Jeckle.  That being said, this mans life has changed as dramatically as is possible for any one human to take. Not only has my life changed, but his has for sure.  Well TSAD has fucked us both.  Let's be honest.  He went from working and playing tennis 4 or 5 days a week,  to walking in the kitchen to a hot cooked meal at night (at lest he knew food came from that part of the house), playing poker and doing as he pleased.  Now he can't leave me for more than two hours.  We both lived pretty cushie lives for that matter.  I worked, did all the laundry, and cleaned  over four thousand square foot of house. I also played tennis, went to Happy Hours on a regular basis and did whatever I wanted. Those days are far over!  He has given up mostly everything.  In return he is pretty pissy!  He is doing everything I just mentioned and then some, except clean the house.  We now have people to do that.  Where was my head all those years?  Everything is now on his schedule, from when we eat to when I shower.  He has total power for the first time in 42 years.  Guess what?  There is not a fucking thing I can do about it.  Wha wha. 

Well yesterday I had enough!  I called him to take me from the shower to bed.  He didn't like the "tone" I used when I called him.  Mind you I have about 50% of my voice left.  He came into the bathroom and said I'm going to count to a hundred slowly as I can before I'll take you to bed.  He started one...two...three..four.  I believe he could see the fumes at that point.  He might have seen the fumes but why not push a few more buttons?  Which he did...duh.   He quit counting after nine, ten he would be dead. 

So he got my T-shirt on after continually pushing my buttons.  The fumes were coming faster by the second.  So I had enough.  I reared back with my good arm (I use that term loosely) and I punched him in the nuts!  His eyes turned to the size of saucers.  He looked at me, a touch of green in his face and said, "that hurt".  I started laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee the bed.  I mean I was couldn't stop laughing!  So moral to this story, you piss off a girl long enough she just might nut knock you!  One...two...three...

Nut knocker on,,,

Sue "CiCi" Cook

Flowers...Things I Love

Another doctors appointment.  This time it was a Neuromuscular Pulmonogist.  Yes Dr. Asshole was a barrel of laughs.  He rambled on and on about my future death in detail.  I ever so politely tired to interrupt him 45 minutes into his death speech...he ever so rudely looked me square in the face and informed me he was not finished.  It's not the death speech that got to me nearly as bad as I've heard this speech 50 times and they all act like this news is going to be shocking.  Later my daughter told me she knew he was dead in the water at that point (does she know me or what). I did ANOTHER breathing test, only to be told I am at  40-50% in breathing capability.  Then I was told I have been using my bpap machine wrong for 2 years.  The person that brought it and set it up, put the wrong settings in. Yes 2 years of fucking sleeping with nose pillows, fighting this stupid machine was for not!  Yeah idiot!  Guess he really gave a flying shit I have the Shit Ass Disease (TSAD)!  Dr. Asshole's staff was amazing, so I guess it was worth it. This is called rant and retrieve!

My daughter sent me a  post from Facebook from Steve Gleason (former NFL player that has TSAD) in which he said, "Its funny how exhausting not moving can be".  I love how someone with TSAD can sum it up in one sentence.

So with all that being said, I want to change this post to something I love. If I had unlimited funds I would have a house full of fresh flowers. I mean I know they are expensive, they die after a short period of time, but this is my fantasy so screw off (ha ha)!  I would have them in every room, changed out every other day.  Cool vases, everything from modern clear glass to milk glass.  They would be so full you wouldn't be able to put one more flower in the vase.  Mostly pink (duh).  Here are a few of what I would have:

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.

So that's my rant and retrieve and pretentious fantasy.
Flower on...
Sue "CiCi"Cook

Ho Ho Hoyer ...Things I Hate

hoist

verb (used with object)

to raise or lift, especially by some mechanical appliance.

At  least I know it will hold me😁

Looks like it's time for the Hoyer.  Whoppie fucking do!  Poor Mike is just getting to the point of beyond sick of listening to me moan and bitch every time he picks me up.  I would say get over it but, I am getting tried of being bruised from one end to the other!

 I have done a post on the Hoyer in the past but now it is just real.  I mean who wouldn't want to be wrapped in plastic cloth, hoisted in the air and taken to where ever you need to go, hanging like a sack of potatoes.  I thought the fucking mini van was embarrassing, no contest!  Well guess I shouldn't complain, it's a source.  My PT is coming this morning to show us how to use the Hoyer.  Guess I better get use to it.  It's just another step in TSAD.  I don't have to like it, I don't have to even pretend to like it.   As a matter of fact I will fucking hate it, so there!

My sweet little baby Emerson spent the night, last weekend, which always makes my heart melt.  I just want to eat her alive.  We were laying in bed, watching cooking shows, which we

 always do.  She said, "CiCi I wish you could walk so we could play".  I told her I knew, that I wish I could as well.  She sat there for a second and said, "You have a angel in heaven, Chase".  I could tell she was putting two and two together some how, so I said, "You want to know something about heaven",  she said yes.  I said,  " Everyone in heaven walks, runs, and can play tennis or jump on a trampoline, everyone in heaven is happy and feels no pain". She sat there for another second and said, "I love you CiCi from eternity times 2".  Now if that doesn't bring a tear to your eye.

My little munchkin.

The PT just left.  Just let me say you haven't lived until you have been "hoisted" spread eagle, hanging from the air with absolutely no control.  It's a visual I don't even want, let a loan having to live it daily.  Well I still have one good arm to drink wine with!

Whine on...
Sue "CiCi" Cook