The Sea is a Salty One

  The chickens here haven't been smoking, but I'm tempted to...and I don't smoke. Ever. Couple of days ago, Jim started complaining about the fact that he's still oozing something, not quite blood, not urine. His bladder finally woke up and realized it had a real job to do and the random peeing ended. Not a moment too soon as I have a threadbare set of sheets and a twenty year old quilt so drab and faded it's been washed so many times on the bed.  Haven't even started on the linens in the guest house yet and it's been two and a half weeks! I'm slacking, stress, constant medical confloptions, peeing, the dying of my dryer, my back, the phases of the moon, voodoo doll making have distracted me! I have also been distracted from eye balling Jim's incision. He had the metal staples removed a week ago. He started asking me to take a look. I finally did and a three inch long section of his incision has opened up. Doctor said its open two inches deep. So he...

  Well, I am not from f*cking Memphis but its been this kind of a night and day. Last night Jim drug me to his church to the Valentine's Day dinner. I wasn't best pleased by this, but I went to keep the peace. Besides sometimes very amusing things happen. They did! The good: My favorite local math teacher greeted me in the food line by asking me if I was ready for 'authentic Mexican food'? As I told him I am always ready for authentic Mexican food. His tacos were better than any of the local taco places, even the expensive ones. The bad: I had to keep fending off folks that wanted Jim and I to take this poor old dog that was Velma's. I kept having to explain over the course of yesterday and yesterday evening anew to folks about my dog dander allergy. The ugly: Shortly after arriving one of the church members sidled up with the pastor a few mere feet in front of me and started trying to engage in him speculating over another member's possible wealth. Kudos to the...

  My chicken-y clucked up kitchen. Stuck there today washing beaucoup laundry. Jim got home on Friday evening in one piece. I did and did not come home in one piece. I drove at night, something I hate to do because my night vision isn't real good, and waiting in a secluded dark road. Jumpy until he got off the bus and into the car. However I did manage to drive there and back much better than I thought I might. Plus for an added bonus it was all 'No molestar!' and not one person hassled me at the bus stop. Then he proceeded to leak blood and urine over every surface in the house. Think I'm kidding? I have a dozen Walter White-style tighty-whities soaking in the laundry room! Apparently it takes a bit to get full functionality back in your urinary tract system. Here's the rub about everything that has happened. His wonderful talented urologist failed to warn us about the extent of these side effects. I endlessly read through everything on prostate cancer on websites ...

  A rooster coming up over our wall. This morning I dropped my husband Jim off at the Tamarindo Airport for a flight to San Jose and his doctor's office. Today is staple and catheter removal day! Praying it goes well. I hated missing it, but the asthma is bad, and I'm just emotionally wrung out by the last four months. Simple check up it's not essential I be there for. Per my kids demands he flew down on Sansa Air, and he's having to bus back in the sole bus line that runs through Huacas, the nearest town of any size near us. Airline had no available seats on the afternoon flights. I wanted to drive down, but my family threatened to fly down again if I did. I still think we would be fine, but.. a promise is a promise. Got such a kick out of the airport because the waiting area is open air like most of Costa Rica. A zinc wavy metal roof on metal poles over a scant few benches. What tickled me was the flock of chickens casually browsing through the waiting room. The airpo...

  The names in the title refer to a Chinese restaurant and the next door bakery that we pass on our way to San Jose. This is the Teatro Nacional across the street from our room in the Hilton. Too fancy for me~ Wow, I have to tell you that this has been two of the most stressful weeks in my life, from hobbling around to clean on my stupid ankle problems, all the way to recovery at the house with the husband after my family left. I'm not entirely kidding when I say the bedroom floor has had blood, sweat, tears, vomit, pee and worse on it in the last week. Our family arrived and it was off to San Jose, to the hospital that is a preferred provider for my insurance. The doctor's office fubbed up, no pre authorizations were obtained, nothing, de nada, nyet! I spent a very borderline sweary sweaty hour clearing it up, and the surgery took place once I put 80% of the surgery on my AmEx as a downpayment in case the insurance company denied it. We were told the surgery was one to two hou...

  View from our San Jose hotel room, a strange place with a frosted glass shower and toilet area which assured everyone in the hotel room viewed your junk when you showered or tried to use the toilet. Go figure! I do want to talk about our time in San Jose with the surgery, but it's an involved tale with lots of moving parts for another day. Some of them fecal-covered moving parts. Today I wanted to rant about something that's going to make me struggle not to be an ugly twat-waffle to the pastor of my husband's church and those who are part of the men's group tomorrow. Why? Read on dear one. Just over a year ago my husband had a rupturing gall bladder removed, and I encountered that same awful thing that used to happen at my old toxic Evangelical non-denom church. Church members being ridiculously buttinski during medical situations, planned or emergency. I ended up taking my husband's phone away from him and shutting it off until after he got out of the hospital. H...