Happy Birthday, Micah!

Hard to image this sweet little girl

turned nineteen yesterday!

I sent her nineteen Bitmoji birthday greetings just to annoy her -

and she thanked me!

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, MICAH!

 

TOTALLY Terrible Tuesday!

Tuesday was one of those days where I felt like I was taking one step forward and three steps back.  It wasn't that it was bad - I voted, I dropped off some paperwork at the clinic and I made it to work on time . . .

Where I had a new student in my first class!  A parent-child class where the parent let him go, because after all, he was three!  Go jump in when he wanted to . . . go under because he wasn't watching him . . . go play with the toys while we were singing . . . 

Then came my second class - she cried and cried and cried!  And this was the second lesson.  But it got better.  When Mom left, she started to scream and scream and scream!  I got "empathy eyes" from the ENTIRE pool!

My third class was the best of the day.  I finished with them, I packed my stuff away and I went in to take a shower.  When I packed my pool bag the night before, I had been helping Micah bake cookies.  Yeah, guess what I forgot!  But I told myself that when camping, I used to wear the same pair of underwear for LONGER than two days, so . . . 

And speaking of underwear . . . read on!

Captain Underpants!

Oh, the stories you just can't make up!  I am the Tuesday night deck manager at the Y this session. 

On Tuesday, I watched in awe as a gentleman, and I'm guessing, his wife came into the pool, walked to the deep end, and sat down.  He proceeded to take off his shoes, his socks, his shirt, his pants . . . You know where I was headed with this!

Fortunately, he had on red plaid boxers.  The truth is you do not need a swimsuit to swim at the Y.  You need "appropriate swim attire."  Now I am of the generation where we used to wear boxers as shorts so I may have been a bit more lenient than others, but I let him go in.

You gotta love it!  He wanted me to watch him swim so that I could tell him if he could swim!  And he started at the deep end . . .

Unfortunately, English was not his first language, but his maybe wife could speak it well.  I made her walk beside me to interpret my comments about his swimming abilities.  

You know, he wasn't bad.  But I did tell her to let him know that next time he came in to swim, he had to wear either a swimsuit or shorts - boxers were NOT going to cut it!  

Fun with the F.O.O.'s!

We met Allison (Matt and Micah's birth mother) and her hub and their three children at the Mall of America last night.  It was probably our most disjointed visit ever and we will probably never go back to the MOA on a Saturday night, but we did have fun!  Next visit will be Christmas cookie baking at our house . . . 

Micah, Kennedy, Allison, Lincoln, Matt and Kingsley

Sensational Selfie at Supper!?!

The five sibs . . .

 

Locker Room Chatter . . .

It couldn't have been funnier as I listened in to the locker room chatter yesterday . . .

"I always weigh more on the scale at the Y . . ."

"I always weigh more at the scale at the doctor's office . . ."

"My scale at home weighs best . . ."
"Because you always go to the bathroom first, right?"

"And I wear as little as possible . . ."
"I even have my 'light' clothes that I wear to to doctor's . . . "

And I laughed because I do the same exact thing - except maybe not the light clothes to the doctor's office . . .

 

Thankful Thursday!

That was my thought as I drove in to work yesterday.  So I thanked God that I had a car to drive because so many people in this world do not  I do not have to rely on public transportation.  

Grumbling a bit that I was going to spend my time after work cleaning my house, I thanked God that I had a house to clean.  I have lived around the world, and while by America's standards my house is by NO means a castle, by the world's standards - I live in a mansion and I had the privilege of cleaning it.  

Then I thanked God for my job, because around the world so many do not have jobs.  My heart cries out for the little boys we saw in Sierra Leone who's job was to take a big rock and make it into little rocks.  Making rocks!?!  Imagine that . . . on a Thursday where I had so very much to be thankful for!

Rheumatology Report

There's an old Larry Norman song that contains the line, "Don't ask me for the answer, I've only got one: That a man leaves his darkness when he follows the Son."*  And that, my friends, is the only answer I still have . . . Jesus.

The myriad of blood tests I had in October all came out fine, even normal.  Based on that, we returned to the original diagnosis of polymyalgial rheumatica.  That is what I will be treated for even though I am well under the usual occurring age of seventy, HOWEVER . . .

Prednisone is not a drug you want to be on for the long term.  So I will now be getting monthly blood tests while trying to drop my dose of Prednisone by one milligram a month.  If by my January rheumatology appointment, I am unable to decrease my dose of Prednisone (because my PRM decides to rear it's ugly head!), I will be put on a different medication that takes three months to be effective but with less side effects.  

Meanwhile, he did clear me for knee surgery even though he's contacting Twin Cities Ortho so he can look at my MRI.  After all, it is osteoarthritis and he is a rheumatologist.  He also wants to know if they tested (who knows for what!?!) the liquid they took out of my knee.  

That said, I press on praising God, that while this is a small beep in the radar of my life,  I'm not battling something more serious like cancer or kidney disease or a heart attack.  Thanks for praying on my behalf . . .   

*"Why Don't You Look Into Jesus?"