Saturday

Today was another fascinating day in the life of 'The Great Convalescence'. We started with a phone call to Ryan, then Jessie called while with the Randall's. A little TV, (I finished a book, thank you very much ...) and then a nap (Gary). By this time it was noon and we headed of on a walk ... with a purpose!

Off to find lunch and another tripod - Riverfire is coming up and we don't want to be battling over the only tripod in the apartment. So - I googled all the camera shops on Queen Street and off we went.

Didn't get one, but decided what we wanted.

On our way - we stopped at Anzac Square. I have taken pictures before, but not of all the statues. It is a memorial for their armed forces (Anzac standing for Australia New Zealand Army Corps) and I just can't get enough of the pear shaped trees.

And look who made an appearance ... and not just pieces of him!

BONUS!!!

And just for fun - I added the film of Gary's surgery - mainly for Jen ... and I HAVEN'T EVEN WATCHED IT YET! (Gary says it is short and won't make you throw up ... maybe ...)

Good luck!

Hope Sunday is as titillating as Saturday was ...

Surgery - Revisited. WARNING: Photos ...

OK, with the warnings out of the way. Here comes the fun stuff!

Gary went to his post-op doctors appointment today (Wed) and came home with GOODIES!!! I chickened out and didn't go with him since he had a nasty swath of staples that were going to come out and I just couldn't stomach watching. I have sat with Jessie for many, many horrific procedures - including a spinal tap - but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to go with Gary - poor guy - he had to go alone.

So he shows up at the apartment with a disc and photos! It is his surgery on video and photos:

Broken Clavicle:

Fixed, bionic clavicle:

I know, makes you want to barf, right? Yeah, I haven't watched the movie yet. Gary says there is a point in it where the doctor TWANGS his broken collar bone. Why? I have no idea - maybe it needed to be twanged. I'm working up to watching it tomorrow ....

Why the doctor decided we needed these ... goodies ... is beyond me. But I hate to receive without sharing ...



... so enjoy!!!

Oh, and Gary doesn't need to see the doctor until October, will probably make his trip (since work has already bought the tickets) for 3 weeks in the states starting Sept 12th, and after 4 weeks he can ditch the sling and move his arm above his head. That's all I know ...

Tedium

Things are pretty much the same here in Brisbane. Gary is recuperating, I am sick with a head cold and both of us are rather bored.

Gary went to work today and stayed most of the day. He mentioned on his ride home that when he was busy, he forgot about the pain. This is not going to help keep the man home to further recuperate ...

I am trying to help him, and stay as far away from him as I can since I don't want to make him sick all at the same time. I don't think it is working.

Things are going rather slow here.

Gary has a doctors appointment on Wednesday. He will get his staples out and hopefully get information on his progress.

Getting There

Gary came home from the hospital and basically slept when he wasn't complaining about itching (morphine makes you itch) on Wednesday. He slept pretty well for the first 4 hours, then couldn't get back to sleep that night.

He set up a meeting for today (Thurs) at 12:00 - 2:00 on Wednesday when he was on medication feeling pretty good. This morning, he was not feeling so well but we walked over to his office anyway. Me to continue on to the chemist to try to find the big, waterproof, thin stuff you put over a suture (I can't remember what it is called). We had been given one extra by the nurse and knew that would not be enough before his Dr.'s appointment next Wednesday.

He was pretty tired by 2:00 and came home and napped - but I got him up a couple of hours later so that he would sleep through the night.

So - very boring, just recuperating. His shoulder is pretty swollen and I don't even want to think about what they had to do to get it repaired - I am sure it is pretty traumatized.

He seems to be in worse shape today than yesterday - but pig headedly going into work tomorrow for a few hours.

We will see how it goes. Off to play on Saturday - that is ... if I decide I can drive and not kill us ...

War Wounds

It is 10:30 am on Wednesday morning and Gary is Home!!!

Got up and to the hospital by 6:30am. Gary was awake and miserable. He told me it was the longest night of his life. He had weaned himself off the morphine drip so that they would let him go.

He told me to take a picture:

I know - gross. But it was worse when they changed his dressing. The staples are seriously uncomfortable looking. I am sure I will post a photo of his staples at some point ...

The doctor came in at 8:00 and gave us the good news that the surgery was a success. He had to put two plates along the clavicle but all in all it is looking good. Gary says he feels more comfortable now that there is some sort of strut over there supporting stuff.

After Gary managed a shower on his own, they changed his dressing and told us we were good to go.

He is in a lot worse shape than he was in stepping out of the apartment yesterday - sort of like they knocked him unconscious and then beat him up. He is very sore and tired - but looking good to me. I am happy he is home and able to be more comfortable.

****

And on a nice note - Ryan is totally moved into his apartment thanks to a grundle of wonderful people. Thanks to everyone that helped load the truck, move him in and organise the entire thing. He just e-mailed me from his apartment ... so the last thing - the WiFi is done - I can breathe a sigh of relief there.

Thanks again for everyone helping us at this time.

Surgery

Gary and I got to the hospital about 1:30 - he checked in and at 2:00 they came to collect him. They wouldn't let me go with - so told him good bye and decided to go outside on this beautiful winter day ...

Liked this .... what ever it is. Everything in the area was called 'The Mill' this or 'The Mill' that so apparently this is a Mill.

Found the cutest little park and decided to read.

The sun was getting low when I finished one of my books:

I decided it wasn't time to go check on where he was, so off for some more walking. It was helpful in keeping my mind off what they were doing to Gary.

Got back at 5:00 and they said he was in the theatre. This after they found him. He was lost for about 20 minutes. Apparently the operating team was operating on a Mr. Hoyt ... It took us quite some time to find him! So I decided another walk was in order. More reading, more fretting, more boredom.

At 7:00 I went back and they said he was still in the theatre. I was a bit concerned by this time that it was taking too long - but after talking to Gary - he didn't go into surgery until 5:00. Decided I really needed to take an hour walk and calm down, but 5 minutes in, I received a call from Gary's doctor - which my phone dropped so I was unable to talk to him - and he didn't call back, but that meant he was out of surgery - so back I trekked.

Another half hour and they wheeled him from recovery to the Intensive Care Unit. He was very groggy, sporting a gnarly, bloody band aid at his clavicle - with what were staples making a ridge all along the suture. His wrist was wrapped up like he had broken it. His chest was covered in hot pink what ever and writing. I guess they just get a sharpie and take notes on your chest ... keeps from operating on the wrong side I guess.

He was in quite a lot of pain - and back on a morphine drip. He was complaining that his neck was 'crooked'. Me and the nurse tried to make him feel better and had him sit up a bit (an hour into his arriving in Intensive Care) and we found this IV Saline between his shoulder blades:

Could NOT have felt good ... I hope this is not the precursor to finding gauze pads in his chest ...

He seems like he is fairly comfortable. It is now 10:30 - Gary threw me out and told me to go to sleep about 10:00. He seems very stable, his colour is very good - he was very pale when I arrived in Brisbane and was worried I was going to see that ghost again, but no - he looks good. He was sleeping between the visits of the nurses every half hour and I am assuming the 1/2 hour visits will continue through the night.

So - heading off to bed to try to get some sleep. Will take a taxi back in the morning and stay till he is checked out.

Updates when I get my guy home ...

Doctor Appointment

Well, Gary and I are no slouches when it comes to reading an x-ray and what that x-ray implies ...

The doctor picked up the very one I took a picture of and posted here and said that Gary needed surgery. Big surprise. He was, although, much better at reading the x-ray - stating right off the bat that his collar bone was broken in 2 places with 4 chips floating about. I couldn't see all that. They will cut into Gary tomorrow afternoon (he will be under general anesthesia) and put a plate across the three pieces of collar bone and get them lined up.

They will then cut open his wrist (don't tell Gary about this part - it gives him the chills) and steal bone for some bone grafts. Apparently the bone graft site hurts worse than the incision for the collar bone fix.

So - fun, fun, fun in store for tomorrow. He will stay overnight - and then I am sure I can bring my grumpy fellow home.

Cross your fingers, say a prayer, here goes nothing ...

Strange Days ....

We've settled into a routine - one that will probably be knocked on its butt this week, but still - a routine of sorts.

We are at a tentative standoff with the TV. I will stay in the room if it is on the Discovery or History channel, or if the movie looks good ... really, really good. It has been interesting to watch the Aussies point of view on certain historical events, or learn more about the Australian involvement in WWI and WWII and other general Australian history. Tomorrow we get to watch "The History of the US" Aussie style - I am excited to see if it is as dismal as the ones we saw while living in Norway - made by the British! The down side? Had horrible dreams last night after the last show we watched was on the executioners in France. The last person to be Guillotined in France was in 1972 - I find that incredibly bizarre and a bit unsettling that I know it ...

We take walks. I slow my pace so that he doesn't have to tell me to slow down - a very unusual situation for us to be in. Most of the time our pace matches - something it has never done with my 5'2" legs vs his 6'3" legs!

I make meals ... and he eats them! This is a first in about 20 years!

We are together and the pace is ... well - not unhurried - more like at a standstill - and we talk, and laugh and just ... be together. There is no hurry, hurry, hurry - out to the shop to build, build, build. Or just running to run - like he always has done ever since I have known him. He is at a dead stop and taking it rather well I must say. Who knows - he may like life in the slow lane - maybe I can get him to stick around me a bit more after this?

I watch him in pain and my anger for a stupid bus driver grows. One minute life is usual - well - usual in the sense that it has been for the past year and a half and the next - BAM! Your life and the lives of your children are turned upside down. I am getting used to feeling helpless - and getting used to the situation - but I still get angry.

On the way to church there were Jacaranda trees blooming. Hard to imagine that it has been an entire year since I had Jacaranda Fever. A beautiful tree was in bloom across the street from the church and Gary asked me if I had my camera. I told him "No, it's not that kind of trip" ...

.... but maybe, in a few weeks, the cameras can come out ...

It's Going to be a Long Month ...

Made it through Day 1 of 'The Great Convalescence' with a seriously stubborn patient! Gary insists on doing everything himself to the point of exhaustion. He is in a HUGE amount of pain and it is seriously not fun to watch. I see his father in him more now than ever - that stubbornness!

He went to work yesterday and then on to get x-rays. His collar bone at the top of this x-ray is seriously not aligned. He sees a doctor on Monday and he will probably be in surgery on Tuesday.

After he got home, we watched some TV, he napped and overall he just tried to ignore the pain - an impossible task. I feel rather helpless, but he is letting me help him a little bit more today.

We headed to bed - our Thursday night and I realized that I had only 1 hour of sleep since Monday - so doing rather well in spite of the fact that I was seriously sleep deprived. And sleep deprived I shall stay for a bit. I had a conference call with Richmond Assisted Living Center for Jessie's yearly meeting that I was unable to attend - thus they called me up - 1:00am my time. I had been able to sleep for a couple of hours - woooo hoooo - 3 hours since Monday! I got to speak with Jessie - then during the call, Gary woke up and had to change positions - so we watched more TV. I am assuming the nights might just go a bit like that for now - with a 2 hour intermission in the middle with Gary sitting to change his position.

Went back to bed and he was able to stay for a while. He is now off to work again and drove. I don't even dare call and see how that went. I heard ambulances off in the distance a while back and prayed it was not him ...

So - I'm in for the long haul, I need to hunker down, ride it out and realize that I am going to lose about 10 IQ points from watching stupid TV ....

Smooth Sailing ...

Well, twenty seven hours after stepping from my house - I have safely arrived at Gary's apartment.

The flights were just flights - no nightmares. We got in early and I was in Gary's apartment about 10 minutes after landing time - so alls well at the Hurst domicile ...

Sort of. Gary came home yesterday. He LOOKS like he has been hit by a bus - but only in that battered and bruised way - he looks GREAT to me!

He said the nurse thought he was crazy - him requesting she cut his t-shirt in half - but it was all he had to put on and can't lift his arms over his head. Do the bloody math!

He is in showering and set up a meeting at his offices that he can walk to for 10:00 today (I'm too tired and tripped through too many time zones to actually tell you what time it actually is in Brisbane right now ...) and I am off to do some shopping.

Domestic bliss ...

Liftoff Imminent ....

Travelling, to me, these days has become one big Run-Away-Train-Ride. The minute I step outside what ever domicile I am stepping out of until I step into the other - it just feels (now) like an Out-Of-Control-Roller-Coaster-Ride. It shouldn't - I have given myself AMPLE time to get into my 'Airport Zen' in both Houston and LA - but yet - here I sit - impulsively blogging about NOTHING AT ALL, sweaty palms, with a half baked plot to overthrow the latest Vengeful Travel gods plot to derail my luggage getting on the plane with me (I won't go into it - you just don't need to see that deep into my fractured psyche, and it involves a backpack stuffed full of mens boxer shorts - so help me if I get searched there will be a lot of shrugging ... lots and lots of shrugging ...).

I decided to have a mini airline related panic attack - already - I guess just for practice and to make sure to keep me on my toes. I mean - seriously - how many planes can fall from the sky ... THAT I HAPPEN TO BE ON? OK, now I just cursed myself ... crap! I have been sitting here trying to calm down and I realize - I don't have the skills. Calm down? How? Why? For how long? Always coming back to that How? Seriously - How? Can someone tell me? I have about, oh, 30 minutes.


Give me a call ...

Thanks ever so much ...

Down But Not Out ...

It is 2:00am here in the Twilight Zone of the Hurst Family Trainwreck and I have been through more rounds than I care to remember with my Vengeful Travel gods (since my Travel Fairy - apparently a balding guy named Vince is sitting in his pink tutu in the Lizard Lounge - drunk on one too many martinis ... but I digress ...). They have been having there way with me all evening.

Round 1 - Continental check in - well actually Continentals stupid ticketing system. It gave me a 'mini upgrade' and seated me in the 'Elite' section of the plane - seats in the teen numbers - front of the plane - but unless you are special - and here is the real kicker - they don't give you the status to go with the seat - you cannot board until the end of everyone who has brought all their luggage with them aboard the plane because Continental charges now for checked baggage and the last half of those boarding generally don't have a chance in Hades of getting any overhead bin space. Which - to every ones annoyance I need.

I. Need. Overhead. Bin. Space.

For my computers and cameras - I don't check them - thus I always get in the back of the plane so I can board first - a small price to pay for overhead bin space - it is just the way I do things. But I couldn't reassign my seat.

Check in 24 hours in advance rolls along and I think - why not give the seat assignment a whirl. I am in luck!!! A middle seat (and you know I ABHOR middle seats) is available - on the back row. I snap it up and smile fiendishly -

Round 1 - Lori: 1 Vengeful Travel Gods: 0 (why - you ask - because I turned in a mediocre seat for one that guarantees me a spot of overhead bin space? NO - THERE IS NOBODY BEHIND ME!!! NO ONE TO PLAY SOLITAIRE OR GAMES ON THE BACK OF MY HEAD REST - and yes I AM laughing maniacally ...)

Round 2 - Qantas Check in - I look and see that the flight is at 11:00 - cool - 1/2 hour earlier than usual - I will be able to check in at 1:00am in the morning. 1:00am comes around but the online check in is not highlighted - I cannot select it. I call Qantas. He looks around, tells me that it leaves at 23:30 (duh - Europe - 24 hour clock) and it was not time to check in yet - I was looking at my return flight at 11:00 from Brisbane to LA. Idiot

Round 2 - Lori: 1 Vengeful Travel gods: 1

Round 3 - Time to check in - and OF COURSE. It WON'T LET ME. Gives me the SAME FLIPPING ERROR MESSAGE I GOT LAST TIME. So I decide to call and see if, like before, I am situated in 'Travel Limbo' which is sort of checked in and just worry about getting my ticket when I show up in LA. Dial the toll free number for Qantas again. "Hmmmm, the Qantas Lady seems SUPER excited about something" I think as I am half listening to the recording - it sounds different, but then again - it is almost 2:00am and I am running on fumes. The Qantas Lady starts talking and it is DEFINITELY NOT NICE. Some how I have found: Dial-a-Porn. Wow. Hang up.

Round 3 - Lori:1 Vengeful Travel gods: 2 (sniggering ...)

Called and yes I am in 'Travel Limbo' to be freed when I find a Qantas counter. Dang - I am tired but buzzed at the same time - just wondering what the Vengeful Travel gods have in store for me tomorrow. Gary wants me to buy him some easy-to-put-on clothes at Walmart - and I am thinking that heading to a 24 hour store right now would be more profitable than punching my pillow for 5 hours.

Off to shop ....

Pissing off my Travel Fairy ...

My sister-in-law wrote me that I must have really pissed off my Travel Fairy. Now - I KNOW I have a set of Vengeful Travel gods (don't really have a count - I think they multiply each time I travel) that do nothing but muck up my travel and an Inept Fairy Godmother who is, well, rather inept - but who knows - maybe I have a Travel Fairy too ... locked away in a dungeon somewhere via the Vengeful Travel gods. But then again - maybe all she did this week was keep my husbands body from falling beneath the wheel of a bus ... and I'm thinkin' that if that is what she has been busy doing - I will take what I can get.

Here's what I know:

Finally talked with him for about 1 minute yesterday and got a couple of questions answered and more raised.

- His injuries are on the right side of his body - it is his right arm that is immobilised. Great for me (a lefty) ... not so great for him.

- He might need surgery to put pins in ... something or other - I am assuming a broken bone ...

- He might need to move hospitals if he has surgery

- He was supposed to do the above two things yesterday and didn't - I got a quick e-mail stating that he didn't move - no reason why - although he does seem to be second guessing some decisions so I believe this decision is up to him

- If any of the above happens, he will not be getting out of the hospital on Wednesday.

- I still get there on Thursday

And then the fun begins! That is if I can find him. He told me that he was moving hospitals yesterday and I never got an e-mail from him telling me where he was going. I was a bit stressed since I HAVE NO KEY TO HIS APARTMENT right now and the minute I step on the plane in LA for 14 hours - I go into 'radio silence'. I arrive - with no working phone or e-mail (unless I find a cafe) so if I don't know where he is tomorrow before I leave for the airport (while he is still asleep) I am wandering Brisbane trying to find my injured husband, locked out of his apartment. I'm good if he stays where he is - I can find that ... its the moving that has me worried.

So - if I have a Travel Fairy - I'd like her to stay with Gary - I've apparently made this run to Brisbane without her - probably many times - I can do it again ...


... she can keep his morphine drip from clogging ....

Getting Back on the Horse ...

I was lying in bed and my son walks in. He asks how 'coherent' I am. I have been throwing up, so my electrolytes could be off so I take an inventory of my body. I don't seem to be twitching, Ryan doesn't have two heads and I am taking inventory - that's a good, coherent sign, yes? I told him I was fine.

He got 'Dad was hit by a bus' out and the rest gets sort of scritchy in my ears. Kind of a lot like feedback from the universe that just kicked me in the butt. He goes on to mention that he won't be home to help move Ryan to Austin. My brain freezes. I CAN'T DO THIS! I can't do this alone! CRAP!

And thus began my descent into my "ME, ME, ME" stage of what was going to happen due to the fact that Gary had 5 broken ribs, a broken collar bone and a broken scapula. I whipped out a blog, made a few phone calls to warn, like, my mom that I had just blogged "Gary was hit by a bus" so she wouldn't have a heart attack, then went and lay down in a fetal ball and cried.

Ten minutes later, I got up, found the phone number that Gary had e-mailed me and attempted to call Brisbane's Royal Hospital. I couldn't get it to work on my land line - but you gotta love the Blackberry - I just highlighted the number in the e-mail, hit the call button and it added the '+' and everything and made the call. I hear a, I suspect, very high Gary: 'hello'. And I start to cry.

"How are you"

Gary: "I feel like I have been hit by a bus"

"Funny"

.
.
.

Gary: "I was thinking since I am not coming home, you could come out here - come see River Fire"

"Man, you know how to tempt a girl"

Gary: "I know what motivates you"

.
.
.
We ring off and it hits me. He can't get dressed alone. He has seven broken bones that cannot be put in a cast and he has one arm literally tied behind his back (OK, strapped to his chest) and he is supposed to get dressed, undressed, stuff like that (oh, PLEASE let him still be able to drive - I don't think I am ready for this). But I realized I NEED TO BE THERE. Someone has to take care of him!

I call my friend who does exactly what I knew she would do - immediately tells me to go - that they will move Ryan, take care of the dog, take care of Jessie. And they will - I have the BEST FRIENDS! I got a bit weepy and confessed that I was scared to fly. It was only for a minute, but I was terrified to even think about making that flight again. It passed - my friend calmed me down.

So - with a ticket purchased for Tuesday - that gets me in on Thursday morning with him scheduled to be home some time Wednesday - I am off to fly the not-so-friendly skies once again.

But - I am darn well staying until after River Fire - a huge celebration on the Brisbane River where they shoot off a ton of fireworks off of Story Bridge. That is September 4th - yes - I will be staying a month - but I think he is going to need help for that long so there is no guilt even involved.

Well, maybe a little ....



.... I GET TO SEE RIVER FIRE!!!!

My Husband was hit by a bus ...

... in Australia ... while riding his bike. Broke a bunch of bones in his body - his arm will have to be strapped to him for 6 weeks, broken ribs, broken collarbone - fun, fun, fun. I guess when you are on your bike and a bus decides to sideswipe you - you are probably going to end up the loser ...


AND HE WAS TO FLY HOME TO HELP ME MOVE RYAN on Wednesday to Austin (move the next week - fly on Wednesday - don't believe he can do either).


This has not been a good day.


I'm going back to bed ....


... and cry ....

There's a Theme in Here Somewhere ....

I am sure of it.

MAYBE it is the joys of coming home from Australia (IN GENERAL ... not this time in particular) - responsibilities, bills, US Postal Service, being a homeowner, scheduling the cleaning lady ...

It does not help when I get a call over a week before I am to be coming home to Texas and Ryan informs me that the dog has broken the door. Yes.

Broke.

The.

Door.

Apparently it was not that hard to do. Hurricane Ike blew through and vibrated the crap out of our door - thus having all the leading (really the adhesive beneath the leading) pull away from the glass - so that you could touch it and it would bow - dramatically. And why didn't I get it fixed, oh, say, in 2008? Well, I did notice it and got to stewing and fretting about it sometime in 2009 and when I called around, found a guy with just the answer I needed: If it ain't broke - don't fix it.

He said it was expensive to fix, and just wait until it was actually broken - who knows - it could be years he said ... I guess I had not factored in the chance that I would be out of town when it happened either.

Ryan and the Randalls (sounds like a singing group, no?) came up with a clever fix using my number one all time 'fix it' tool: duct tape. After pushing in the glass that was bowed out back to some sort of flat, they taped it up and it sat for me to come home and take care of it.

Lovely, isn't it? It feels as if the house is wearing a big thick pair of black glasses with white tape on the nose piece ...I am not sure where I found the leaded glass man with his snippets of wisdom last time I went in search of an expert - maybe he says that about everything - but I cannot find anyone that can tell me anything about leaded glass this time around - if you know of someone - point me in their direction.

The Randalls kindly took the dog so she wouldn't do any more damage until I got home. After I got home, I stuck two chairs in front of it - thinking it would take a lot to lunge through that - and anyway - just bark at the side window ... stupid dog ...
MAYBE it was my husbands concern for me and my blogging ...

Got two e-mails from him yesterday - during the time I was actually writing a post - he must have been rather bored in some meeting. Both were titled:

"Starting to worry - you haven't blogged in days"

Text #1:

"You could blog about 'dreams' - will need to be a little discrete as to not sound completely crazy (your blog followers already know you are mildly
crazy)"

I respond with:

"Was working on something 'safe' even as you sent the suggestion ..."

I then get:

Text #2:

"May be therapeutic to take on the dream topic? You could do some web
research on 'nightmares', ask you readers to share their worst dreams, etc ... could be like a talk show."

To which I reply:

"Kay - here's the thing. I always dream - always remember them. These last two nights that this has really been happening, I wake up with a 'start' with this horrific feeling of dread and panic (which takes quite a bit of effort to calm down from I might add....) - but no dream - when I 'look back' and try to access the dream - - nothing. Just a big black hole of darkness ...

Let me just start with that in my blog and see where it takes me!"

MAYBE I just jumped into the middle of something that I should have explained.

Since getting home from Australia - I have been waking up to a full bore panic attack having already started while I was asleep. Debilitating panic and no idea where it is coming from.

It took me a few nights to figure out that, duh, it only happened when I woke up. Thus ...

... if I didn't fall asleep ...

Worked fine last night. I didn't even mildly panic at the thought that I needed to go to sleep - I had given myself permission to stay awake - so nothing. I am assuming this will have to stop sometime pretty soon ...

Thus the crazy talk, but: no waking up to a panic attack that has progressed to a '10' without my permission. Weirdest thing, though - I wake up frozen in fear and NOTHING. No dream, no explanation, nothing to follow it back to - to point at and say - THAT.

THAT'S the problem ... and go fix it.

OH!!!

MAYBE it's about having a VERY CUTE DOG FOR SALE.

Actually, she's free.

And if she looks creepy in the photos - I have been playing in Photoshop ...

She has adorable poses - this her number two preferred sitting position on the staircase - the photo above is her number one preferred sitting position ... not that she is sitting ...

She, like any woman - detests her picture being taken ...

Seriously - she gets up and walks away.

I - if you haven't figured it out yet - I am mad at her - so I kept it up - see that resigned look in her eye? ADORABLE. COME GET HER!!!

So, I am not as crazy as I sound and decided to get some sleep this morning. Shut off both phones and took my kindle, a soft blanket, all six of my pillows and crawled into bed.

HAD JUST DOZED OFF when I heard Charlie start barking AND THE KITCHEN CHAIRS MOVING!!!

I jumped out of bed and like a woman possessed started screaming like a woman possessed.

On purpose.

Really.

I wanted to scare her. Which apparently I did - I have no idea where she hid! Screaming your bloody head off can really wake a girl up! No sleep until my blood pressure is back to normal. So back to reading.

Started dozing, rolled over, snuggled in ...


... and was smacked in the face with a paw (this is Charlies idea of initiating playing with me - when I am not asleep, or ready to kill her - it is generally a good way to let me know she wants to play .... well - scratch the 'asleep' part of that sentence - she has smacked me awake numerous time to 'play')

Kicked her off the bed - don't even know when she got up there. Sleep was not coming, thus the post, the photos of Charlie (seriously - come get her!!).

But just might be getting there - while uploading my photos - I would shut my eyes - and sort of forget to open them. A good indicator that I might get some sleep.

Especially if I shut the door first ...

Hmmm ... which I won't .... because of that dog and this:

Seriously - come get her ...



... THAT'S IT!!!

My Theme:


DOG FOR SALE BY OWNER ...

Lori's Blog:

Wordy, verbose, diffuse, prolix, pleonastic, discursive, voluble, bombastic, balderdash, grandiose, copious, lengthy, meandering, ceaseless, turgid, garrulous, periphrastic, tedious and voluble.

... and that was just touching upon the SIZE of the books - no opinion on content ....


I wish the photos were bigger, but the colors are great and they are in some semblance of order. I was very surprised to find fewer of these pages than I would have expected:

But absolutely stunned as to the number of pages that look like this:

I was thinking my blog books were to be 'Picture Books' of sorts ...



... apparently not!


But - to have 'Perfect Moments' ... the words and the photos ... (Perfect Moments - Part Deux will be in 2010 Vol1) permanently ensconced in a hardcover book?

Totally priceless!

There are no words ...

And, yet - as I start to type this I have a sneaking suspicion that there are going to be lots and lots of words.

Continuing on from my last post ... after ONE WHOLE HOUR of sleep Wednesday night, I got up, dumped all my Australian money and my keys to the apartment on the table and walked out the door without a single look back.

Rode the elevator down with Gary - I got off on the ground floor after our goodbyes, he continued on to B2 to get the car to drive to his new office that he cannot just walk to (a very sad day ... the day he had to move offices). In the taxi staring out at a gray, cloudy Brisbane, I realized what was wrong with me. Other than being super duper stressed ... I was depressed. Usually I realize this immediately when the storm clouds roll in, but this time it sort of snuck up on me. Staring out at the city that I might never see again - I was ambivalent and realized this should not be so. We were good friends! Brisbane had been so good to me! Thus - realizing that I was depressed. Sat there dejectedly and wondered how long it was going to last. If only I had known then ...

Got to the airport and sent a few texts to Gary:

Text 1: "Got the aisle seat. They made me weigh my computer bag and it was WAY over the limit. I refused to check it. I will see what happens at the gate."

Text 2: "Flight delayed two hours. Could it be more stressful? Oh, wait - what about the 50 high school students in matching shirts yelling all around me?"

Gary calls. He asks me if they are the same students. I told him (out loud) that no - they were in different colored shirts than before, and these guys were older, louder, ruder, cruder, and just plain vile. We discussed what he would do if I was going to miss my connecting flight from LAX to IAH, he wished me good luck and we said our goodbyes.

Called him back a bit later and told him that an announcement came up that said that the flight time was only 12 hours and 20 minutes and that we would be able to make up the time and thus getting in on time at 7:00am in LA. He said 'good' and headed off to a meeting.

FIVE HOURS after setting foot in the airport, I boarded the plane and took my seat. Called Gary and said we were not going to hit our target take off time, but I was probably still OK for making my flight to Houston. One final set of good byes.

I'm in luck. I am sitting on a set of 4 seats with the two seats in the middle empty. I meet the sweetest 22 year old setting out on her own for the first time in her life sitting in the opposite aisle seat. She has taken a job in Calgary, Canada at a hotel at Lake Louise and seems nervous to be on her own. She says she doesn't like to fly, and has never travelled alone.

I smile, tell her she is now not alone - me being her new best mate and to not worry about the flight. I tell her the bigger the aircraft, in my experience, the smoother the ride. No worries - or as the Aussies now say - I tell her 'No drama'.

And our behemoth airplane lumbers down the runway and gracefully takes to the skies ...

... for approximately 1/2 hour - at which point something occurred that has done irreparable damage to my psyche and (woo hoo!) drove that depression right out of me.


We fall out of the sky ...


... not for long. Not like the last time this happened to me - about 24 years ago - where we fell for probably only 3 - 4 seconds, but enough time for anyone not wearing their seat belts to crash into the ceiling ... along with every loose thing in the airplane. That time the captain came on and said "Sorry folks, we seemed to have hit what we call a pothole". POTHOLE? WE WERE FREE FALLING! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE! THAT IS NOT A POTHOLE. And it has taken, oh, about 20 years to get comfortable with flying since.

No, this time it was not 3 - 4 seconds - probably 1 or 2 but ended with a spine crushing crash. Then we were violently thrown to the left. Then to the right. Then up. Back down. I looked and felt like a rag doll. I grabbed the armrests and held on for dear life. It feels like 1/2 hour has passed with every cell of my body gripped in fear, terror and pain. I try to look at my watch - I realize only about 5 minutes have passed.

I keep up a mantra: "Pothole, Pothole, no plane has ever had a wing sheared off by turbulence". "Pothole, no plane has ever had a wing sheared off by turbulence". I know this. I know this. I KNOW THIS. EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE FINE. But it continues. I remember thinking why hasn't the pilot found another altitude? THAT'S WHAT YOU DO IN TURBULENCE. DUDE - FIND ANOTHER ALTITUDE!!! And then the fleeting thought that this must be what it feels like to be on a bucking bronco.

My mantra again. Never in my life have I been violently thrown into my seat belt (sitting 'low and tight') - last time we were sort of floating and I strained against it, but to be thrown violently against the belt, smashing my body sideways into the armrests so hard I was sure my neck was going to snap - never. Then the thought: Funny - in the emergency procedures for Qantas they say that the emergency brace position includes keeping your feet flat on the floor. My legs are flailing - and I'm thinking - if I can't keep them flat on the floor for this - what chance would I ever have in 'the unlikely event of a crash'?

In the haze of fear, pain and terror everything feels as if it is in slow motion and I wonder again how long? I spy my watch - 10 minutes. And then it happens. Slowly, deep inside and building - I start to panic. I think "Is this how we are making up time?" (a totally stupid, stupid thing to think, I know). And then it hits like a sledgehammer to the chest: "I cannot do this." "I CANNOT DO THIS!" "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" My entire life at that moment was engulfed with the fact that I was trapped in this flying tin can and I had no where to go. The panic builds to a full blown panic attack - and I realize that I can't take a minute longer of this. I CAN'T. I CAN'T. I CAN'T. PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE!

And then I remember HER. My new best mate. I need to let her know that everything will be OK. I am sure she is scared, and maybe, just maybe - if I smile at her and say 'everything is fine - this is fine, don't be scared' that my body would believe it too. I remember, as if in slow motion, turning my head to the left - toward her. She is clutching the armrests (as we all are to try to stay put) and weeping, her eyes clenched tight. She is wearing headphones. I reach out and try to touch her - but she is too far away, and my arm is suddenly wrenched back, so I grab hold of the armrest once again. The feeling of total helplessness and utter failure wash over me as I watch her cry - and it pushes some of the terror aside. Short of throwing a pillow at her - there was no reaching her.

Out of curiosity I slowly turn my head to the right and see the couple across the aisle, heads bowed as best you can on a bucking bronco, their lips moving in silent prayer. I look back at my new friend and keep screaming in my head: "HELP HER!" "HELP HER!" "HELP HER!" which, although it is a totally useless mantra - the panic stops building, the terror and fear level off.

Fifteen minutes. The bronco is tiring. I would label what we segued into as Severe Turbulence - the previous stuff? I just call that 'Hell'. This continues for 1/2 an hour. I have a plan. I lift the armrest up, then the next one. I loosen my belt a bit and lie down, stretching out and touch my mate. She startles, opens her eyes and I see sheer terror and tears. I gave her my best shaky smile and ask if she is OK? She shakes her head no. I smile again and say she is doing great, cover her hand clutching the armrest and squeeze. I get a shaky smile in return. I sit up again and just enjoy the fact that I am not thrashing about - just jolting about.

The bronco tires some more and I mentally categorize the next TWO HOURS as Moderate Turbulence.

Folks ... that two and three quarters hours? It seriously felt like ten. I was drained. I was sick. I was shaky. I hurt everywhere. I was worried about my friend. But most of all? I was TERRIFIED it would start again. I can't remember feeling that type of dread.

Every time we dropped or jolted to the side I got a new infusion of adrenalin and the panic would seep right back in. My brain started to compartmentalize: Turbulence in one box. Pain in another - this I tried to put on a shelf and ignore - but my brain was having none of that. Nausea and not puking in a bag in another. My friends well being in another. Making my connection in LA. THAT I was able to put on a shelf and forget about ... for now. And that big jumbo box: Panic. Managing these and trying to keep them all in a nice orderly fashion - I realized that I had no more room for the Entertainment System. I couldn't follow a film to save my soul. So - with my ipod in my still shaking hand, I picked Coldplay and select All albums. Had enough sense to laugh out loud when the first song showed up: "Don't Panic" - no lie. Probably my first real laugh in a week ...

The halfway point of our travels was punctuated by us, again, dropping from the sky. I grab my armrests and the Panic box starts to take over. A few seconds in I realize something. This isn't a bucking bronco this time. It was a roller coaster in the dark. You don't know if you are next going up, down, left or right - but just jolting, not violent thrashing. It calms me. Upon tearfully trying to explain this to Gary at a later time, he tried to comfort me by jokingly stating that Qantas should be charging extra: bucking broncos, roller coasters ... whats not to like? It didn't really work in the comforting me part ...

So with my brain trying to manage my compartmentalization, I stick with music and literally work at getting through the next 10 minutes. Ten minutes at a time for six hours. Well, that's a lie - the last two hours I just gave up, pulled the travel information page up on my Entertainment Screen and watched each minute left in the clock tick down to zero.

My 'am I going to make my connecting flight' box kept growing. We landed very late and standing in the back of the aircraft at 8:20am I pulled out my boarding pass for LA to Houston and see the boarding time: 8:35. Hmmmm - fifteen minutes. I have to clear immigrations. Clear customs control. Walk 1/2 mile. Go through security. Proceed to gate 62.

NO PROBLEM.

I text Gary and Ryan that I have missed my connecting flight, but decide I need to go through the motions anyway - before going to the Continental desk and getting a new ticket for a later flight.

And here is where the 'No Words' comment comes in.

8:20 - off the plane and proceed to immigration
8:22 - in line - 10 people in front of me
8:25 - through immigration proceed to customs control
8:25 - clear customs control as no one was waiting in line and start my 1/2 mile walk
8:38 - arrive at security - ask to sneak in the 'privileged' line due to the fact that my flight was boarding
8:39 - was told no - go to the end of the line - about 500 people - it makes all the switchbacks and spills out the door and onto the sidewalk
8:39 - ask again - security tells me they will come make an announcement in a minute
8:40 - was told to go to a new security line just opening up - 15 people in front of me
8:45 - through security and on my way to gate 62
8:48 - at gate 62 - EXHAUSTED but going to make my flight - so I stop and buy a bottle of much needed water
8:49 - realize they are still just boarding the back of the plane - my part and walk past the line waiting for their rows and ...

... I am on the plane!

I feel as if I am dreaming and that my somewhat inept Fairy Godmother (don't tell her I called her inept - we are on shaky terms as it is ...) just kicked my Vengeful Travel gods collective asses.

Put my computer bag (which I was sure, if I made the flight would be confiscated due to no room in the overhead bins ... ) in row 23 (sorry row 23 occupants) and proceeded to row 37 and sat down.

Apparently my Fairy Godmother had moved on to another one of her wards and the Vengeful Travel gods got the last laugh. There in front of me was the 'TOUCHSCREEN ENTERTAINMENT SYSTEM' which I have mentioned in a previous post as the 'Stupidest Invention Ever'. And right behind me .... a very ENTHUSIASTIC Solitaire player. Punching his way to victory or loss - I have no clue - from the moment he sat down until the moment we arrived at the arrival gate in Houston three and a half hours later.

Long ... I know. I appreciate you reading, if you made it this far I am impressed!

Airports, airplanes and flying. I need to make a decision in the next two days if I am going to go back to Brisbane in October. Four hours ago the answer was 'Hell no'. Same answer for stepping inside an airport at all.

But...

I can't decide. Has my psyche been so damaged that flying is going to be terrifying for me? Am I going to freak at every jolt of the aircraft? Have another aircraft related panic attack?

A little voice in my head whispers: 'REMEMBER THE GIRL'.

Oh. Yeah. As we were making our final descent into Houston we, well, dropped from the sky ... just a little bit - you know - the regular hard drops as you are descending. The girl (about 17 - 18 years old) across the aisle from me starts to scream ... loudly. I am already gritting my teeth as Solitaire Man continues to punch my headrest so I sigh loudly and grab my armrests. Why? Was I terrified? Was panic setting in? No. I was THIS CLOSE to turning to the shrieking thing and while slapping her across the face saying: 'This is NOTHING missy - this is CHILD'S PLAY ....'

Maybe I'm gonna be OK after all ....

I've Managed the Impossible

Countdown: -20 hours until the travel clock starts ticking (step outside the apartment and into a taxi, and this was earilier in the day - as I type the countdown clock is sitting at right about -6)

Log into Qantas and start the Online Check In procedure. Halfway through it blows up and dies a horrible death.

Hmmmm. OK, lets start again. Halfway through it blows up AND DELETES MY SEAT ASSIGNMENT. An aisle seat. I'm gonna need it. Back spasms. Urinary tract infection complete with fever and chills (I know, I know ... TMI). I WILL be needing to access the aisle OFTEN. In fact, who knows if I will ever be sitting down ... my plans right now are to just lie down in the back hallway between the left and right set of lavatories ...

I call the help desk. She says I am checked in, but without a seat. Well, better than nothing ... right? She decides to reset it so I can assign a seat and re-check in. "OK - try it now" she says. It blows up in my face. Sorry, she tells me - you are no longer checked in and I cannot seem to fix the problem, or assign you a seat. Try again later, or you will have to check in at the airport.

I try every few hours. Call the help desk ... every few hours - no one can help. My ticket has decided to be pissy and no one can fix it. In fact, I don't know what is going to happen at the airport in, oh, about 6 hours. Maybe they won't be able to fix it and I will just decide to live at the Brisbane International Airport.

So - WITHOUT THE CLOCK EVEN TICKING my travel nightmares have begun. This does not instill me with confidence that my 28 hour travel adventure will be easy sailing. I have set my alarm for 2 hours earlier than needed. I have called a taxi to pick me up 1 and 1/2 hours earlier than needed in hopes that I will be the only one DUMB ENOUGH to arrive that early at the airport to check in to my flight and thus still have a shot at getting an aisle seat ... if there are any left ...

I am exhausted. I am sick. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. I am sick and tired of travelling. I despise airports. I hate planes. I know, I know ... and I am spoiled. Whine, whine, whine, blah, blah, blah. Sorry ... lost it there for a sec ... just really, really, really tired ....

I can't sleep ... and why should I? In about an hour it will be time to check into my LA to Houston flight.



Let's see how badly I can mangle that ...

It's Complicated ...

Some final, random shots of Tasmania.

This was a lovely ivy covered little school next to a church:

This was just next to our hotel. What you cannot see because of the beautiful fairy lights in the trees is that it is a line of old warehouses converted into shops. Impossible to photograph because of the line of trees and the tables with their umbrellas in front of every pub and restaurant - but beautiful. It was a nice walk to get dinner - beautiful at night:

I threw in the 'before' shot just for fun ... the upper is better ... yes?

On the flight home, as we took off from Melbourne, banking sharply - I could see forests of eucalyptus trees for as far as the eye could see. I remembered last time we were in Melbourne ... stumbling upon Koalas in the forest and got a wee bit teary eyed. Oh, how I wish I could do that again! What excitement! What a thrill! What beautiful, gentle creatures! I WANT TO SEE A KOALA AGAIN ...

And it started me thinking - what am I going to miss the most about Australia?

I was going to make a top 10 list and was mentally working on it - having come up with (in no particular order):

- Stumbling upon Koalas in the wild
- Finding Gary in the apartment after 28 hours of travel

- The Sydney Opera House (with and without fireworks)
- The view from our apartment ... Story Bridge ... downtown
- Knowing which side of the sidewalk to walk on in a crowd
- Watching kangaroos hop in the wild
- Playing with wild birds (feeding them salt free sunflower seeds helps make friends...)
- The people, the accent, the kindness, the smiles
- Lounging about with nothing more pressing than finishing a book

So .... the top 10 was going to be difficult. I had been mulling it over for 24 hours. Morosely, wishing this wasn't the end, selfishly want more, more, more.

Fast forward to this morning (Wed) and a conversation with Gary. It included one tiny sentence that flipped my top ten list on its head.




I may be coming back.




Like I said ... it's complicated ...