Tired. But the muse is yelling.

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I would go to sleep, but I have been away from the computer for two days while i stood in for Papa Dash while Mama Dash had to go through Chemo.

Where once they had (still have for the time being) a ranch of some 540 acres, mostly desert, she is not going to return.  Her health precludes that from ever happening again. So he has returned to collect things such as pots, pans, sheets, clothes, etc.

But the six-hundred mile trip and he is tired ( Not only from his surgery, but worry about mom.) he does not want to make a round trip from Reno to the land of dust and a patch of earth where little exists but things that can (and will) hunt you. Big bitey, scratchy things on one side. ¬†Venomous and deadly on another, and just plain ol’ huge horned things that fear nothing – including humans to round out the feeling of being surrounded.

He (Papa Dash) is totally off the grid, generates his own power and water.  Built a palatial house that is elevate above the surrounding land (Flash flood defense!)

But that said, he had no urge to try to make a huge trip to make for a three-hour tour of doctor appointment, chemotherapy session and following the bus around town. (Mama Dash is currently in a wheelchair for ease of transport)

So I went in his place. ¬†While there, an 11-year-old sensed a disturbance in the force and sent me texts. ¬†Both the 11-year-old and the 16-year-old archers I created pounced me when I knocked on the door at 9 O’clock at night.

Me, my bow, twenty-plus arrows and two girls went to the floor.  Lucky the arrows were in a quiver and stayed together. We stayed up to midnight talking and doing homework.

(I may have lost some “Crazy uncle” points by insisting homework be done before we talked of novels, and stories that have their names in it. but the homework is DONE. Dunno if it is right, but it’s done.)

So we stayed up, they whupped on me on xbox (I have no such animal in my home- only computers. As I type this, it is an 8 year old HP with one broken hinge, six rows (Horizontal) of dead pixels on the top of the screen and one column of >red-only< pixels on the right side.  The keys of a,s,e,c, n,k,l,i are obliterated.  The space key has a divot worn in one side.

that is my “video” machine. heh. ¬†So, needless to say, when they headed off to bed finally (It was a >school< night! Mom gave special dispensation) at midnight, I settled down on the sofa about 1-2 AM. ¬†(It rang 1 AM while I was making the bed, tried to figure out a smart-phone problem then turned lights out). The sofa I slept on, I’m longer than by a few inches. So my feet hang over the edge.

Not really a bad thing? But I have fears something will try to nibble on my toes. ¬†So I don’t sleep well.

And another 200 miles worth of driving to come home.

I think I might go to bed “early” tonight. Family is already in bed, SO I might hit the sack at midnight instead of 2-3 am and get up at 7-ish.

In the meantime, I will try to catch up for a few days.  I will also attempt to get you more stories daily.

Hm… No. Maybe not. I would not want to overdose you.

How tired would you get of a crimson coiffed crazy uncle that tells stories? If he happened to tell four different tales every day? Hmm…

 

We shall see.  I struggle with 2 a day. AND!

 

NaNoWriMo is coming baby! Woot! Then I will be gonzo!

Hang with me!

Your favorite future best selling author.

Dash

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Short (okay more medium), Sweet (okay, maybe not so sweet) and a Grumble.

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TWO-hundred mile drive, a promise made to Dads are as important as a promise by a dad to a child.

I said I would be there for the meeting with Mama Dash and her new oncologist.

When I arrived, about 3:30 pm local time, Papa Dash and I were talking and he said that about 2:00 local time, the Drs office called him and wanted to move the meeting up an hour.

He said no. 1. People (me) were coming from out-of-town and were currently out of contact. (All that line-of-sight stuff with phones and mountains)

2. Just no. Transport has been arranged, again, people from out-of-town and chemo is on the schedule for tomorrow. (Thursday) and they require her isolation for two days afterwards.

Yes, forty-eight hours after treatment, she is forbidden to have physical contact with anyone or leave her room. People cannot touch her, if they do, they must wash, surgeon style before they move anywhere out of the facility.

As I sit there and check on things, get updated by Papa Dash and help Mama out of the bed into a wheelchair (needing to use the lady’s room) I paged for the nursing assistant to do the other end of the job, I can move her, but the lady’s room has a line I won’t cross.

3:55 rolls around, we are getting all our plans planned. Questions written down, and I said that the transport unit had arrived.

Then it left.

“Um… Dad, it’s not out there anymore.”

4:00 PM. Meeting is at 4.15. Drive time is 10 minutes.

That is not a lot of time for loading, driving, offloading and such.

Rehabilitation center calls the transport company, transport company says they never got the call from the Dr’s office. A call to the Doctors office?

They moved the meeting up to 3:00.

No one was notified.

What?

Long story short… well…medium…

Doctor’s meeting now is on Thursday at noon.

“noon? When the office is¬†closed normally?” A-yuh. ¬†So it seems.

We’ll find out. So now I am sleeping on my sisters sofa, and not drive 200 miles home, then 200 miles back in the morning.

I am being entertained by the 11-year-old, sitting and talking. But now she has gone to bed. Leaving me with two cages of hamsters. One with a dozen BRAND new baby hamsters. (anyone want a couple?)

They don’t squeak loud, but they do squeak.

Papa Hamster is on the wheel trying to run away.

This is going to be a long night.

Meeting in the morning, record all the doctor has to say, ask questions and then we do a family “Round Table” discussion afterwards to weigh our options.

My only thought now.

If YOU as a patient call THAT MORNING to your doctor and request to change the appointment. They will, but they will charge you for the missed visit.

Or if you DON’T call and unilaterally change it. You get charged.

This is wrong on many levels for the thought that the office in turn can just dismiss the appointment and, in this case move it UP by over an hour without people knowing.

Will the office now charge for a missed appointment?

I realize that sometimes MD’s get emergency calls. ¬†But a specialty like oncology, emergency response from the MD is not a common issue. ¬†Not like a trauma surgeon, or an active cardiologist that might be in surgery longer than expected or has an emergency call.

So why move it up by an hour? or… Why move it up and NOT tell ANYONE? Rehab center, transport company, …patient?

Maybe we should charge that office for our time wasted. Fortune has it, of course I did budget for the fuel for this trip. But not for the time lost for tomorrow.

Ah well. Tomorrow is another day.

Update on Mama Dash:

She is getting stronger, quickly, but it still looks like at least another week of weakness to overcome before she can come home to a house that she would have trouble navigating around in.

Upside:

I have practiced some archery “magic” for the 11 and 16-year-old to watch.

I can shoot a smiley face into a target using about 10 arrows.

But I do it upside umop and then turn it over so it appears familiar.

“Have a nice day.”

I do enjoy being the “cool” uncle. Just as I do being the “Cool” dad. (Drives Princess #2 crazy, a lot of HER friends have broken homes, parents hate each other and fight in courts. Then the kids come over to our house and tell her she has cool parents. She has nothing to complain about.)

So that is my blog for the night. Not long, but not short. I am still annoyed with the Dr’s office for unilaterally changing the meeting without confirmation by ->anyone<- that they are even aware.

But I am pleased to be a part of this family, we are awesome- (Well, they are awesome, I am just “okay”, working on fine, good, great and then awesome). We might take it in the shorts and we still pull it together.

Fiction is delayed for a few days, but I will keep you updated on the RL adventures of the prince of unpublished, undiscovered, unknown un-novels!

Dash

 

 

 

Arrival Home, Dogs go Ape.

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A week in Reno and surrounding area while I stayed at the sister’s house while she has about a pound of hardware that held her ribs together from her event of a (Near) Total Body Crunch.

Papa Dash had a surgery. Officially “Outpatient.” but it took 4 days from Friday to Monday before I took the old warrior home. (To my sister’s house where he was staying for the time being with Mama Dash who has her own issues. More on her later.)

So, we have one family member in the hospital for surgery, lasting until Monday, to which sister goes in for surgery, the SAME day. 0.o Okay… We can handle this. I stay at her house, sleeping on the sofa- and I¬†am pounced by a lonely 11-year-old girl who falls in love with Archery– and we shoot until my arms fall off.

Meanwhile Mama Dash who has ongoing¬†back pain¬†-pain that no one can seem to track down- hurts her back again after twisting while sitting on the foot of the bed. ¬†A sudden swelling on the vertebra below the line of the shoulder blades was palpable. *sigh* Mark it with a felt tip pen and let’s go to the ER and get it evaluated. Probably a torn muscle related to the previous pain. Possibly related? ¬†A disk rupture? I don’t know, only an x-ray to find out. I don’t have such installed in my fingertips.

At the ER, things go from bad to worse and the Emergency Doctor transfers Mama Dash to a medical center for comprehensive testing and followup – possibly with an oncologist.

So now, papa Dash is not eating (“Everything Tastes BITTER. I have to force myself to eat.” ¬†… Um, okay. ¬†But overdosing on fruit is unwise. And it came to pass… that yup. ¬†Too many banana’s, etc etc. ¬†Do make things run faster. And RUN is what he does, get the heck out-of-the-way!)

Sister came home on Friday, 11-year-old did the archery with me on the last day and then Xbox to 1:45 in the freakin’ morning when she learned mom was well enough that it was time for me to go home.

But I could not tell her “no” or go to bed. We have had a good time this week and she is lonely with a 15-year-old sister with a social life and friends with cars. Dad is working overtime to cover costs of deductible and copay. Mom is in the hospital, so is gramma, grampa is with gramma.

That leaves the weird uncle with the pointy sticks and bows.  We built the Zombie Snowman (our name for it.) and shot uncountable times. Even got the 15-year-old sister to spend time with us.  She is also hooked. Lol. they have a JOAD team in the school, so I will have some competition next time I go there. lol.

Then time to go home.  A three-hour tour of the beautiful mountains with big clouds and occasional showers. Cool temps, taking deep inhales of cedar, redwood, pine scented high mountain air with a touch of lightning to scent it all.

Then I dive down into the Big Valley. (Look up the TV series of the same name with Barbara Stanwyck, Lee Majors, Richard Long, Linda Evans and Peter Breck) and into the heat. Blech.. I’ll go back to Nevada where the temps are¬†cooler.

BUT!

The dogs start bouncing.  Honey the honey colored dog sits on me, Hershey the Chocolate labrador just pushes her way in. there is no such thing as a still hand. You can put it on her head, scritching does not get it, must MUST be a pat and rub.

Honey, she has her tongue out. Palm wide, two palms long.

“Human, you have been missing, I have to coat you in my saliva to make it better.”

Hah. She sits on me for awhile then goes to lay down in the coolest part of the house- a hardwood floor with a breeze.

Later, I walk outside to water the corn, sunflowers, and pumpkins. ¬†She is watching me so I stomp my foot at her in the universal play language of dogs. “Gonna get you!”

She is “Game ON! Human-who-has-been-missing! Attack!”

Suddenly my arms, hands, feet, legs, are her personal chew toys, she hits me in the chest time and again while I put her into a head lock.

This goes on for a few minutes, then it is off to grab a toy and dance out of my reach every time I try to take it from her to throw.

I assume she wants me to throw it. ¬†But then she keeps it away, until I ignore her then she jumps close and barks at me with a muffled “Woof”.

It is fun to have been missed. So now she sleeps with her head on my foot. her body half in-half out the sliding glass door.

That really looks uncomfortable over the threshold.

Anyway. ¬†waiting for reports on the scans on Mama Dash, Papa Dash has agreed to eat more lean protein and get some complex carbs in. ¬†I suggested Archery (I think I covered that before) but it won’t come to pass, so long as mom is in the hospital. ¬†Food yes. ¬†Archery? Yeah…not so much.

On well.  Honey dog just decided to drop a ball on me and is wagging her tail.  I have to throw it before she starts barking.

Then back to writing that I have been circumvented by an eleven year old who is lonely during the summer. (all her friends went out-of-state and the one that’s left is “always busy”)

I’ll post something soon.

Not counting my High Mountain Adventures.

your fave Up and Coming Author

Dash

Differential diagnosis. Or, how do you wish infection on anyone?

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On Weds. it started out with some fun.  the teenager and the nearly teenager went out and we shot the zombie snowman.

Archery Burst01-ANIMATION

 

Lots of fun, this is the “animated’ version. ¬†No video can be uploaded, but you can see the 11-year-old is having a good time.

We had 15-year-old sister with her compound, also having wonderful laughter. ¬†They both would boggle, as i’d shoot and call where the arrows would hit. And hit where I said.

(Psst, I just got lucky a couple of times)

Their ride arrived to take them to martial arts, and away they went. With their mom (My sister) in the hospital after getting plates removed from her previously broken ribs (A total body crunch a few years ago, fictionalized in the story “2 seconds…”) has an infection that now appears to be¬†staph aureus infection and she is on two antibiotics every four hours. I have asked her if it is MRSA, but as of last night she didn’t know. But it is being stubborn.

This leads me to believe I am in Nevada for a longer period of time.

Mama Dash, she twisted her back yesterday (Thus the lack of posting) and something “popped” I palpated her back and found a lump that she and my father said was new.

“Okay, give me a pen.” and I circled it. “Now we go to the ER, if you tore something, it needs to be evaluated and I do not have the tools here. PLUS an Rx for pain.”

Well, she broke a vertebra. ¬†0.o … Otherwise healthy people do not beak bones by twisting while getting ready for a shower.

*sigh* You ever see storm clouds on the horizon and know they’re headed your way?

Yup.

A quick trip to the emergency room and some five hours later, the doctor pulls Papa Dash and myself side.

“Could be an infection but the worse case scenario, multiple myeloma. ¬†It is a kind of bone cancer. So we need to send her to a medical center that has comprehensive testing and personnel abilities.”

So an hour’s drive to Reno to the medical center there for testing. ¬†We were there a long time. Papa Dash and I got home about 2:00 AM.

The up side, sister sledgehammer is about 5 doors down from mom.  Even if sister is under the antibiotic infusion, she can still trundle it alongside her like a nightmarish version of a high-tech pet.

I am going to have to leave you now, and finish this update later.  There is an 11-year-old future Robin Hood in training that is pacing back and forth with a bow in hand. She needs to go out .

Remember my authoring friends.  WRITE ON!  Woot!

And my readers? ¬†Read all you can, laugh live love ¬†and send some my way. ūüėČ Buy a book? Give me an opinion? Like it? I am pleased. ūüėÄ

I need some good news. I have never wished an infection on anyone, but I prefer mom has an infection over the alternative.

Dash