Falling apart.

Sorry to leave my thousands of readers hanging like that. Surgery went really quite well. I was admitted Wednesday, Nov. 28 and went home after lunch Friday, Nov. 30. And by home I mean, we went Christmas shopping at three stores, then went home. And I would have gotten online that night except for a WEE bit of swelling in my left leg.

The swelling is really not so bothersome as you'd think. What really aggravates is horrendous bruising that by all accounts seems to have come directly from the leg brace I was instructed to wear for 4 weeks. Or 3, or 2, or until I didn't feel like I needed it. Considering the worst of the bruising corresponded with the steel inserts of the brace, I ditched it in less than a week.



Pretty awesome, huh? Most of it is gone now. This was one week after surgery. Oh yeah, they almost postponed surgery because my blood pressure that morning was 80 over 50. I had to convince them that is normal, for me.

The vertigo isn't so bad as it was right before surgery. It is the worst when I lie down and close my eyes, or when I am in the shower and tilt my head back with my eyes closed. Then the room spins and I feel a bit tipsy. So far, so good, on not falling and shattering my tibia into bone splinters. My blood work doesn't show anything abnormal ... blood sugar is good, cholesterol numbers are great, estrogen is within normal range ...

The bad news is, my doctor also received findings from my surgeon, regarding the fluid in my knee, and of all things ridiculous and inconceivable, I have pseudogout. Basically, all my joints are going to go to hell, sooner or later. It isn't common in my age group; only about 6% of people in their 60's have it, and the percentage only increases to 25% for people in their 90's.

I don't like to feel sorry for myself, but the concept of [continuing] chronic joint pain does not excite me. I've learned to tolerate a great deal of it, especially over the past few months. The patello-femoral joint that was replaced had been bone-on-bone for some time, and basically shredded. How I was walking, much less riding horses, is beyond me. Must be my stubborn streak. I have no doubt THAT is genetic. I don't want to be needing a walker when I'm 40.

So I sort of just quit going out hunting because I got really ill and slept 12 hours a night plus napped most of the day, all through last week. It rather sucked, really. Apparently I have vertigo in addition to needing major reconstructive knee surgery. Having an unstable knee AND getting dizzy with no warning ... WOO HOO!! Looking forward to getting this over with. Surgery is Wednesday morning, so I'll be offline a bit, but as soon as I can hobble to my Mac, you know I'll be back.

Day 7

Another dreary wet day indoors. Had to have hubby drive me to the hospital for blood work, so no morning hunt. Planning to hunt all day tomorrow; we should get fresh snow tonight which should make for a good morning hunt. Will probably be too cold for my fingers to TXT a blog from the field, though.

Day 6

Stayed in today, as I had a midday appointment. Got home from store and to my surprise, met my babygirl at the door, all in camo and orange. Hubby was on his way to take her with him for the evening hunt. Made me so happy. Wish I could be a fly on the wall of that hunting blind! ;)

Day 5 txt msg

Day 5. Babygirl w me. So excited! Hope we see deers! She was up @ 3:30 AM & in camo & orange :)

Day 4 txt msg

Day 4. Cold, dry & still. New spot. Froze this AM, saw lots o birds. Nbrs BLAM BLAM all day. We no see deers.

Day 3 txt msg

Day 3. Super quiet. Hrs of no deer. Few shots 4 1st Sat. See tails, way out. Even sqrrls quiet. Hawk swoops ovr fld. NO DEERS.

Deer-thirty. Time 2 C deer. In tree. Hard 2 climb. Hub here. Coldr. Specs fog up. Woodpkr. No deers.

Pink sqrrl sighting! Too far 4 pic. Send me DEERS!

Day 2. Quiet, no deers. Light breeze. Too still. Hubby shot nice 8pt he says. In blind I was in last nite. Grr.

No deers. No sqrrl. Few turkey.

Later, back at camp

Hunted in the afternoon as well, here's the summary:

I've been plagued with really crappy hunt season weather. Today the wind was whipping, wet snow flying horizontal, nothing moving during daylight hours. Even with all of the people in the woods surrounding our property and all of the shots we heard around us, deer weren't moving on our land.

Saw a buck for about 3 seconds ... raised his head out of the tall grass long enough to see he had a smallish rack, maybe a small 6 pt. and then he vanished. Nothing else moved during shooting light.

Now that I've discovered how to TXT MSG directly to my blog, I'll keep everyone updated that way. :}

Opening day of deer season fun ...

or, Confessions of a TXT MSG Virgin.

I've never used text messaging on my phone before. Just never saw the need.

Sitting for hours in a blind, waiting to see deer, and needing to be exceedingly quiet, the value of the TXT MSG became clear: this is how I can lovingly annoy my husband without blowing our cover.

7:12 am -- Hear things. no see. fluffy wants out. see doe. legal light? no buck. coons fighting. hear shot. turn to back tips seat. no deers. love yours.

8:06 am -- U C him? no need 2 ansr. hear crane. hear turkey. deer went twrd U far E of me. I C U P! lots of shots. hear shots. donger need food. see cat. no rum. hand cold.

9:53 am -- See sqrrl. See, pheasant? Some bird. More sqrrl. Pelting tent! OMG Pink sqrrl!! Cant photo. See cranes fly low. Hear, eagle? No deers.

11:45 am -- Turkeys! 7 or more. Cool! Need Klnx. Later... OMG must be 20 turkeys just E of me. Like ghosts. Trying 2 get pic of pink sqrrl & they appeared.

At least he understands me. :}

things are be gooder now

Life has certainly dealt quite the series of blows to my immediate family here in the past two months.

Most things, like the totalled vehicle, can be easily overcome. I'll be getting my new Saturn Aura in a few days. I had my Vue for almost exactly four years... a little less when you consider the many times it has been in for repair. Hoping that the Aura won't be as invisible to deer.

Other things will take more patience and time to work through, but we have a strong family that we are certain can pull through anything. Although our family unit is fairly new, as my husband and I race toward our two year anniversary, and the kids are likewise racing toward their teen years, we're close and we're brave, and we're up for anything that's coming at us.

It's time for some good stuff.

The skinny on skinny.

This is a skinny horse.



He is trim, but healthy and well fed. He filled out nicely on pasture, and stopped dropping grain after his teeth were floated. This is a summer photo, after taking him out of a dry lot where he shared a free-choice round bale of hay with another horse. He had to be gradually introduced to green grass, to prevent colic or founder. He had a nice protective fat layer by winter. His hooves were long, but he was sound.


This is a skinny horse.



This is a Saddlebred mare. I do not know how she came to find herself at Horses Haven rescue, but I am sure glad she did. Much more emaciated than this, and the only kind thing to do is euthanasia. Desperately malnourished horses do not always respond to attempts to "fatten them up" as their organs have already started to lose function. I think this horse wants to live.


This is a skinny horse.



While you can clearly see her ribs, her overall body condition does not look critical. She needs good food and good weather. She looks very typical of an aged horse having wintered outdoors during a harsh Michigan winter. There is a shine on her coat and a gleam in her eye. She probably looks like a different horse in the summer and fall.


This is a skinny horse.



For a young horse to be in this kind of shape in September, it must have not had access to the summer's green grass. The hooves have been neglected, and the bloated belly is a tell-tale sign of intestinal parasites; with the ribs showing, I'd guess an overload of them. The legs should straighten out some with corrective trimming. I would have to assume he had limited turn-out as hooves should wear down differently with exercise. His overall depressed look and dull coat is another sign of poor health. As he is young, he has the potential to fully recover with proper care.



Well, they're ALL skinny... so which one(s) should be taken away from their owners?



Skinny is subjective.

Some breeds are naturally more skinny than others, same with bloodlines within a breed, or types within a discipline.

Athletic horses tend to be more skinny, as do hot ones.

Acceptably skinny looks different with an older horse than with a younger, growing one.

Emaciated is never okay, for any breed.

What I've been doing.

http://turn3vsjcac.blogspot.com/


It's way more interesting than my own life.

Others amuse me too.

So I'm sitting in the left turn lane of a busy five lane road, blinker on, waiting for a break in traffic to complete my left turn. There is a person in a vehicle behind me, that I can see quite plainly in my rear view mirror.

Apparently she has noticed a window of opportunity that I chose not to take, being rather stiff and sore this morning and not prone to jerky driving movements. Perhaps I *could* have made it, if I'd jammed on the gas pedal and cranked the wheel, I *might* have been able to shoot through that brief pause in steady traffic. It's conceivable.

But I was rather amused at the display of disbelief in my rear view, the shocked look of thinly veiled anger, the hands thrown in the air. How DARE I not go when that opportunity was so very available?

So there I sat, in the left turn lane, blinker steadily blinking without enthusiasm, waiting for the next suitable gap in traffic, and completing my turn more slowly than normal because I can barely turn my neck; something is pinched in my shoulder and extremely painful. It had to have been at least 15 seconds later, maybe 20, when I made my bold move. She rides my bumper as I once again use my turn signal half a block later, and slowly approach a drive on the right, taking great care not to bounce a tire off the sharp edged curb.

I wish I had so few other things to be stressed about that the simple act of someone missing a left turn opportunity could bring me so much angst. I waved as she passed and hoped her day would get better.

I amuse myself.

PeTA is Michael Jackson. No one would leave their small child or dog with him, but as long as he isn't in their living room, he's considered harmless. Never mind the walk-in freezer in the back for the bodies.

HSUS is Michael Jackson in a very convincing Mister Rogers mask. Most people trust him because on the outside he seems completely harmless, associated with good and wholesome things. Peel away the layers, and you find an organization run with the same basic leaders and fundamental beliefs as PeTA.

The good work that many local humane societies do has nothing to do with HSUS. They are a powerful political lobbying group. No one that I would leave a small child or dog with unattended.

it's what's for dinner

Comment on my comment, from the very popular Fugly Horse of the Day blog:

I am not anti-slaughter. I love beef, pork, chicken ... and it isn't my place to say that my neighbor can't eat horse, dog or gerbil if that's his thing.

I am, however, in favor of HUMANE treatment for any and all animals bound for slaughter. The rules should not be the same for a chicken, a pig and a horse, due to their uniqueness, however, it is hypocritical to consider one type of animal okay for eating and another somehow too cute to be food.

I am not a very responsible blogger

There has been a lot, an awful lot, of stuff going on lately, but nothing I could share outside of my very closest friends and family on my private myspace account.

And that other means of conversation which requires face to face contact and spoken words.

But then people want to /hug/ and I don't care too much for touching and {cooties} and sterf.

One person brought cookies, and that was pretty okay.

When I be gooder I writes more, khey?