I'm back on and off

Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse
or other poisonous spider. Whatever it was, I developed a flesh
eating bacteria that basically changed the shape of my nether
regions for ever. I'm almost recovered now, but I have been told
that I was going into septic shock by the time Mike and Mandy got
me to the ER at Womack Army Medical Center (WAMC) here in
Fayetteville. In less than an hour after arriving there I had
gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured for a
long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes. I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the
doctor's visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as
a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob
being there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down
unit, which had been opened up shortly before. The ICU Step-down
is for those who are seriously ill, but not enough that they need
constant monitoring. I still had my own "nurse" and was on
constant monitoring, but I was able to have some "freedom" that
ICU doesn't have. I was taken to the operating room twice a week
for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system that
was in place. I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I
am Borg of dyslexia. Your ass will be laminated." The stuff
they use to keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the
same as laminating plastic. Seriously. I can honestly say that
my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except
that the kitchens and I could never agree about what food was
suitable for someone not from North Carolina and with diabetes.
I refused to eat greens, pears (hate the things), fish, "steamed"
(read mushy) vegetables, boiled chicken, and many of the other
things they tried to poison me with. I never realized how truly
picky I am about food until I was subjected to someone else's
food preferences. Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters" egg
substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it. I'm
told that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they
have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping. I only read four
books in a month's time and this is strange for someone who
normally averaged a book a day when not doing anything else. I
also did a lot of thinking. I was on a morphine drip for a long
time, then on dialaud (I think) then on percocet then tylenol
after I got home. I discovered that time and space perceptions
distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until
the postman brought in a package from Julie. One of the nurses
helped me open it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to
purr, sleep, and keep me company. Wamcee, as we named her,
helped me get through some really tough and painful times.
Especially after the skin graft on my right leg was done. Even
now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are still
growing back. It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and
fizzy and enough to make one's leg spasm. It was really rough at
times and I made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and
stroking Wamcee. Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you
helped me make it through the dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the
hard times. Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all
times of the day and night. I remember keeping her up until
after 2 am, my time, talking me through until my next dilaud
pill. I finally got to sleep that night, mainly because Leah is
so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the phone line.
If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those others
who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep
me knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't
know how I would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my
medical persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards
and wishes; thank you. I have them all, even those that arrived
after I got out of purgatory. The charge nurse at the ICU
Step-down called and let us know that there were a bunch of cards
waiting for me. We picked them up when I went in the next day
for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound." The wound runs from
the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and has been
called a soda can deep divot. Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't
fully healed. This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the
area clean and dry. Rob has impressed the nursing staff at
General Surgery with his abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets
the honors. I do not have to go in to see the surgery people
until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to check and make
sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June
28th and the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since
February. Either the chemo treatments are working, or the many
purrs have slowed or stopped the growth, or something miraculous
has happened. He still is having increasing problems with his
memory, some behaviors that are a little questionable, and some
temperament, but he's doing pretty good. We've made it this far
and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August 3 as our
next goal. His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters. It took several days for them to accept me
back from the hospital. Wamcee was not very popular with the
owners, though everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's
not really breathing. Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee
and has decided that she, Wamcee, is now the lowest cat in the
pecking order. This puts Tanada up a notch and she is very happy
about that. The other cats think Tanada is nuts, but let her do
her hissing in peace. Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken to
dumping everything he can off my night stand. Each morning one
of us has to pick everything up. I still cannot reach down and
get anything off of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job.
Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC usually sleep with Rob and me, so our
bed is often crowded. Huey still loves to climb under the covers
and snuggle up to Rob. I don't know why, as Rob seems to have no
problems with producing methane. When he isn't doing that, he
often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada. I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all
this stuff. I'm Pam S. in North Carolina. I am owned by 1
medically retired army husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are
still living with us, and 7 cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy
old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon mix of mellow), Merlin (gray
tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine Cone (white and
brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White and
pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy
girl), and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters
soul and a lot of willingness to use it). Oh, last but not
least, one d-thing also known as Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast
knows what cross, that seems to think he's a cat. I once caught
him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...
Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They all made
survival possible.

Pam S.


Welcome back, Pam! You have been through the type of ordeal that the rest
of us don't even want to think about, and you seem to have done it with your
sense of humor intact. Take care of yourself and don't overdo it simply
because you have been "sprung."

MaryL (with Holly & Duffy)

"Tanada" wrote:
First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.

I'm so glad to see you back! What a terrible experience - I sure
don't want to be bitten by one of those spiders! My God. I'm glad
that your wound is now healing nicely.

A little after you were hospitalized, I went on an overseas trip, and
I was so worried about you. At first, the news that you had a skin
infection didn't sound too bad, but by the time I left, it had sounded
pretty alarming. I was surprised that you were still in the hospital
by the time I got back, and that your condition seemed to have gotten
worse! We were all terribly worried.

On Mon, 09 Jul 2007 03:25:58 +0000, Tanada wrote:

Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They all made
survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse or other
poisonous spider. Whatever it was, I developed a flesh eating bacteria
that basically changed the shape of my nether regions for ever. I'm
almost recovered now, but I have been told that I was going into septic
shock by the time Mike and Mandy got me to the ER at Womack Army Medical
Center (WAMC) here in Fayetteville. In less than an hour after arriving
there I had gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured
for a long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes. I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the doctor's
visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob being
there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down unit, which had
been opened up shortly before. The ICU Step-down is for those who are
seriously ill, but not enough that they need constant monitoring. I still
had my own "nurse" and was on constant monitoring, but I was able to have
some "freedom" that ICU doesn't have. I was taken to the operating room
twice a week for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system
that was in place. I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I am
Borg of dyslexia. Your ass will be laminated." The stuff they use to
keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the same as laminating
plastic. Seriously. I can honestly say that my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except that the
kitchens and I could never agree about what food was suitable for someone
not from North Carolina and with diabetes. I refused to eat greens, pears
(hate the things), fish, "steamed" (read mushy) vegetables, boiled
chicken, and many of the other things they tried to poison me with. I
never realized how truly picky I am about food until I was subjected to
someone else's food preferences. Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters"
egg substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it. I'm told
that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping. I only read four books in
a month's time and this is strange for someone who normally averaged a
book a day when not doing anything else. I also did a lot of thinking. I
was on a morphine drip for a long time, then on dialaud (I think) then on
percocet then tylenol after I got home. I discovered that time and space
perceptions distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until the
postman brought in a package from Julie. One of the nurses helped me open
it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to purr, sleep, and keep
me company. Wamcee, as we named her, helped me get through some really
tough and painful times. Especially after the skin graft on my right leg
was done. Even now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are
still growing back. It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and fizzy
and enough to make one's leg spasm. It was really rough at times and I
made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and stroking Wamcee.
Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you helped me make it through the
dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the hard times.
Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all times of the day and
night. I remember keeping her up until after 2 am, my time, talking me
through until my next dilaud pill. I finally got to sleep that night,
mainly because Leah is so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the
phone line. If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those
others who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep me
knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't know how I
would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my medical
persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards and wishes; thank
you. I have them all, even those that arrived after I got out of
purgatory. The charge nurse at the ICU Step-down called and let us know
that there were a bunch of cards waiting for me. We picked them up when I
went in the next day for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound." The
wound runs from the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and
has been called a soda can deep divot. Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't fully
healed. This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the area clean and
dry. Rob has impressed the nursing staff at General Surgery with his
abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets the honors. I do not have to go in
to see the surgery people until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to
check and make sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June 28th and
the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since February. Either the
chemo treatments are working, or the many purrs have slowed or stopped the
growth, or something miraculous has happened. He still is having
increasing problems with his memory, some behaviors that are a little
questionable, and some temperament, but he's doing pretty good. We've
made it this far and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August
3 as our next goal. His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters. It took several days for them to accept me back from
the hospital. Wamcee was not very popular with the owners, though
everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's not really breathing.
Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee and has decided that she, Wamcee,
is now the lowest cat in the pecking order. This puts Tanada up a notch
and she is very happy about that. The other cats think Tanada is nuts,
but let her do her hissing in peace. Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken
to dumping everything he can off my night stand. Each morning one of us
has to pick everything up. I still cannot reach down and get anything off
of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job. Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC
usually sleep with Rob and me, so our bed is often crowded. Huey still
loves to climb under the covers and snuggle up to Rob. I don't know why,
as Rob seems to have no problems with producing methane. When he isn't
doing that, he often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada. I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all this stuff.
I'm Pam S. in North Carolina. I am owned by 1 medically retired army
husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are still living with us, and 7
cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon
mix of mellow), Merlin (gray tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine
Cone (white and brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White
and pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy girl),
and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters soul and a lot of
willingness to use it). Oh, last but not least, one d-thing also known as
Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast knows what cross, that seems to think he's a
cat. I once caught him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.


Welcome home. We sincerely hope you feel as well as your story makes you
sound. Purrs for your continued improvement and purrs for your husband
also. MLB & TuTu

Tanada wrote:


I have them all, even those that arrived
after I got out of purgatory.

I suppose this does pose the question- did you get mine? I'd be interested to
see if you did given the current state of my handwriting!

Nice to have you back and good news about Rob- we'll keep them purrs and
prayers for both of you a-coming!

Lesley

Slave of the Fabulous Furballs

--
Message posted via CatKB.com
http://www.catkb.com/Uwe/Forums.aspx...dotes/200707/1

Tanada wrote:
Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.
snip
Pam S.

It's good to see you posting again, Pam, we were very worried about you for
a while there. Lots of purrs for your continued healing and of course for,
Rob, maybe by some miricle the tumour will shrink more.
--
Adrian (Owned by Snoopy & Bagheera)
Cats leave pawprints on your heart
http://community.webshots.com/user/clowderuk

God bless you, Pam.

Lily & her mama

--
Irulan
from the stars we come
to the stars we return
from now until the end of time.

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...
Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They all made
survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse or other
poisonous spider. Whatever it was, I developed a flesh eating bacteria
that basically changed the shape of my nether regions for ever. I'm
almost recovered now, but I have been told that I was going into septic
shock by the time Mike and Mandy got me to the ER at Womack Army Medical
Center (WAMC) here in Fayetteville. In less than an hour after arriving
there I had gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured
for a long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes. I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the doctor's
visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob being
there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down unit, which had
been opened up shortly before. The ICU Step-down is for those who are
seriously ill, but not enough that they need constant monitoring. I still
had my own "nurse" and was on constant monitoring, but I was able to have
some "freedom" that ICU doesn't have. I was taken to the operating room
twice a week for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system
that was in place. I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I am
Borg of dyslexia. Your ass will be laminated." The stuff they use to
keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the same as laminating
plastic. Seriously. I can honestly say that my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except that the
kitchens and I could never agree about what food was suitable for someone
not from North Carolina and with diabetes. I refused to eat greens, pears
(hate the things), fish, "steamed" (read mushy) vegetables, boiled
chicken, and many of the other things they tried to poison me with. I
never realized how truly picky I am about food until I was subjected to
someone else's food preferences. Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters"
egg substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it. I'm told
that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping. I only read four books in
a month's time and this is strange for someone who normally averaged a
book a day when not doing anything else. I also did a lot of thinking. I
was on a morphine drip for a long time, then on dialaud (I think) then on
percocet then tylenol after I got home. I discovered that time and space
perceptions distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until the
postman brought in a package from Julie. One of the nurses helped me open
it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to purr, sleep, and keep
me company. Wamcee, as we named her, helped me get through some really
tough and painful times. Especially after the skin graft on my right leg
was done. Even now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are
still growing back. It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and fizzy
and enough to make one's leg spasm. It was really rough at times and I
made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and stroking Wamcee.
Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you helped me make it through the
dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the hard times.
Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all times of the day and
night. I remember keeping her up until after 2 am, my time, talking me
through until my next dilaud pill. I finally got to sleep that night,
mainly because Leah is so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the
phone line. If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those
others who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep me
knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't know how I
would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my medical
persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards and wishes; thank
you. I have them all, even those that arrived after I got out of
purgatory. The charge nurse at the ICU Step-down called and let us know
that there were a bunch of cards waiting for me. We picked them up when I
went in the next day for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound." The
wound runs from the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and
has been called a soda can deep divot. Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't fully
healed. This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the area clean and
dry. Rob has impressed the nursing staff at General Surgery with his
abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets the honors. I do not have to go in
to see the surgery people until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to
check and make sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June 28th and
the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since February. Either the
chemo treatments are working, or the many purrs have slowed or stopped the
growth, or something miraculous has happened. He still is having
increasing problems with his memory, some behaviors that are a little
questionable, and some temperament, but he's doing pretty good. We've
made it this far and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August
3 as our next goal. His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters. It took several days for them to accept me back from
the hospital. Wamcee was not very popular with the owners, though
everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's not really breathing.
Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee and has decided that she, Wamcee,
is now the lowest cat in the pecking order. This puts Tanada up a notch
and she is very happy about that. The other cats think Tanada is nuts,
but let her do her hissing in peace. Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken
to dumping everything he can off my night stand. Each morning one of us
has to pick everything up. I still cannot reach down and get anything off
of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job. Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC
usually sleep with Rob and me, so our bed is often crowded. Huey still
loves to climb under the covers and snuggle up to Rob. I don't know why,
as Rob seems to have no problems with producing methane. When he isn't
doing that, he often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada. I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all this stuff.
I'm Pam S. in North Carolina. I am owned by 1 medically retired army
husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are still living with us, and 7
cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon
mix of mellow), Merlin (gray tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine
Cone (white and brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White
and pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy girl),
and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters soul and a lot of
willingness to use it). Oh, last but not least, one d-thing also known as
Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast knows what cross, that seems to think he's a
cat. I once caught him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.

On Mon, 09 Jul 2007 03:25:58 GMT, "Tanada"
yodeled:

Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse
or other poisonous spider. Whatever it was, I developed a flesh
eating bacteria that basically changed the shape of my nether
regions for ever. I'm almost recovered now, but I have been told
that I was going into septic shock by the time Mike and Mandy got
me to the ER at Womack Army Medical Center (WAMC) here in
Fayetteville. In less than an hour after arriving there I had
gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured for a
long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes. I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the
doctor's visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as
a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob
being there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down
unit, which had been opened up shortly before. The ICU Step-down
is for those who are seriously ill, but not enough that they need
constant monitoring. I still had my own "nurse" and was on
constant monitoring, but I was able to have some "freedom" that
ICU doesn't have. I was taken to the operating room twice a week
for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system that
was in place. I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I
am Borg of dyslexia. Your ass will be laminated." The stuff
they use to keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the
same as laminating plastic. Seriously. I can honestly say that
my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except
that the kitchens and I could never agree about what food was
suitable for someone not from North Carolina and with diabetes.
I refused to eat greens, pears (hate the things), fish, "steamed"
(read mushy) vegetables, boiled chicken, and many of the other
things they tried to poison me with. I never realized how truly
picky I am about food until I was subjected to someone else's
food preferences. Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters" egg
substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it. I'm
told that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they
have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping. I only read four
books in a month's time and this is strange for someone who
normally averaged a book a day when not doing anything else. I
also did a lot of thinking. I was on a morphine drip for a long
time, then on dialaud (I think) then on percocet then tylenol
after I got home. I discovered that time and space perceptions
distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until
the postman brought in a package from Julie. One of the nurses
helped me open it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to
purr, sleep, and keep me company. Wamcee, as we named her,
helped me get through some really tough and painful times.
Especially after the skin graft on my right leg was done. Even
now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are still
growing back. It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and
fizzy and enough to make one's leg spasm. It was really rough at
times and I made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and
stroking Wamcee. Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you
helped me make it through the dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the
hard times. Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all
times of the day and night. I remember keeping her up until
after 2 am, my time, talking me through until my next dilaud
pill. I finally got to sleep that night, mainly because Leah is
so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the phone line.
If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those others
who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep
me knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't
know how I would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my
medical persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards
and wishes; thank you. I have them all, even those that arrived
after I got out of purgatory. The charge nurse at the ICU
Step-down called and let us know that there were a bunch of cards
waiting for me. We picked them up when I went in the next day
for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound." The wound runs from
the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and has been
called a soda can deep divot. Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't
fully healed. This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the
area clean and dry. Rob has impressed the nursing staff at
General Surgery with his abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets
the honors. I do not have to go in to see the surgery people
until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to check and make
sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June
28th and the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since
February. Either the chemo treatments are working, or the many
purrs have slowed or stopped the growth, or something miraculous
has happened. He still is having increasing problems with his
memory, some behaviors that are a little questionable, and some
temperament, but he's doing pretty good. We've made it this far
and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August 3 as our
next goal. His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters. It took several days for them to accept me
back from the hospital. Wamcee was not very popular with the
owners, though everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's
not really breathing. Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee
and has decided that she, Wamcee, is now the lowest cat in the
pecking order. This puts Tanada up a notch and she is very happy
about that. The other cats think Tanada is nuts, but let her do
her hissing in peace. Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken to
dumping everything he can off my night stand. Each morning one
of us has to pick everything up. I still cannot reach down and
get anything off of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job.
Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC usually sleep with Rob and me, so our
bed is often crowded. Huey still loves to climb under the covers
and snuggle up to Rob. I don't know why, as Rob seems to have no
problems with producing methane. When he isn't doing that, he
often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada. I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all
this stuff. I'm Pam S. in North Carolina. I am owned by 1
medically retired army husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are
still living with us, and 7 cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy
old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon mix of mellow), Merlin (gray
tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine Cone (white and
brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White and
pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy
girl), and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters
soul and a lot of willingness to use it). Oh, last but not
least, one d-thing also known as Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast
knows what cross, that seems to think he's a cat. I once caught
him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.



Holy Moses!

Oh Pam, I'm so glad to hear from you. I have no idea what to say
after your story, anything seems absolutely stunningly dumb after
that. I'm just glad the worst of your particular situation seems to
be over, that you're home, and you can concentrate on Rob and your
owners again.

Re Qui Gun Kit-- my little Mimi was Gravity's biggest fan-- nothing
was permitted to stay on any flat surface I placed it on. Drove me
stark raving mad sometimes.

Super-mega purrs for all of you.


Theresa
Stinky Pictures: http://community.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh

Make Levees, Not War

Tanada wrote:
Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.



REALLY glad to see you back Pam!

I am glad you are getting back to a routine, I was going to say normal but
then you have cats to serve so nothing is normal,

It was a pleasure and honor to help you what little I could, not only do I
know the stress of hospitals all too well, but your writing has given me
much pleasure,

Lee
Tanada wrote in message
ink.net...
Hi everyone,

First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent cards, pictures,
greetings, and a certain stuffed cat to my hospital room. They
all made survival possible.

First of all, the doctors think I was bitten by a brown recluse
or other poisonous spider. Whatever it was, I developed a flesh
eating bacteria that basically changed the shape of my nether
regions for ever. I'm almost recovered now, but I have been told
that I was going into septic shock by the time Mike and Mandy got
me to the ER at Womack Army Medical Center (WAMC) here in
Fayetteville. In less than an hour after arriving there I had
gone from triage to the operating room where I was lectured for a
long time by an anesthesiologist about not taking care of my
diabetes. I couldn't say much, I hadn't been able to afford the
doctor's visits and hadn't been getting my medications renewed as
a result.

The next thing I remember is Mike, his best friend Jason, and Rob
being there when they were transferring me to the ICU Step-down
unit, which had been opened up shortly before. The ICU Step-down
is for those who are seriously ill, but not enough that they need
constant monitoring. I still had my own "nurse" and was on
constant monitoring, but I was able to have some "freedom" that
ICU doesn't have. I was taken to the operating room twice a week
for debridement and re-placing of the wound vacuum system that
was in place. I joked with the nurses about Suz's signature "I
am Borg of dyslexia. Your ass will be laminated." The stuff
they use to keep the vacuum pressure on the wound is exactly the
same as laminating plastic. Seriously. I can honestly say that
my tush was laminated.

I received excellent medical care while in the hospital, except
that the kitchens and I could never agree about what food was
suitable for someone not from North Carolina and with diabetes.
I refused to eat greens, pears (hate the things), fish, "steamed"
(read mushy) vegetables, boiled chicken, and many of the other
things they tried to poison me with. I never realized how truly
picky I am about food until I was subjected to someone else's
food preferences. Strangely, I find I like "Egg Beaters" egg
substitute, so long as they use salt when scrambling it. I'm
told that most people hate the stuff, but eat it because they
have to.

Anyway, I spent a great deal of time sleeping. I only read four
books in a month's time and this is strange for someone who
normally averaged a book a day when not doing anything else. I
also did a lot of thinking. I was on a morphine drip for a long
time, then on dialaud (I think) then on percocet then tylenol
after I got home. I discovered that time and space perceptions
distort when one is on those things.

One of the funny things was that I was not sleeping well, until
the postman brought in a package from Julie. One of the nurses
helped me open it up and TA-DA I had my very own and legal cat to
purr, sleep, and keep me company. Wamcee, as we named her,
helped me get through some really tough and painful times.
Especially after the skin graft on my right leg was done. Even
now, that area still is painful, mostly because nerves are still
growing back. It's like a form of carbonated pain, tingly and
fizzy and enough to make one's leg spasm. It was really rough at
times and I made it through it with morphine, an MP3 player and
stroking Wamcee. Thanks Julie, you'll never know how much you
helped me make it through the dark times.

Of course Julie wasn't the only one who helped me through the
hard times. Leah (I hope I got that right) was there at all
times of the day and night. I remember keeping her up until
after 2 am, my time, talking me through until my next dilaud
pill. I finally got to sleep that night, mainly because Leah is
so sane and able to send humor and sanity over the phone line.
If it weren't for Julie, my MIL, Helen M, Yowie, and those others
who braved the tangled up phone system for WAMC in order to keep
me knowing that people knew and cared that I was ill, I don't
know how I would have made it.

Last, but not least, all of you who brightened my day, amazed my
medical persons, and impressed us all by sending get well cards
and wishes; thank you. I have them all, even those that arrived
after I got out of purgatory. The charge nurse at the ICU
Step-down called and let us know that there were a bunch of cards
waiting for me. We picked them up when I went in the next day
for a check and re-bandaging of my "wound." The wound runs from
the front of my groin around to the back of my tush and has been
called a soda can deep divot. Gross and TMI, I guess.

Where we stand now.

I have only a small place on the inside of my thigh that hasn't
fully healed. This requires a light bandage, mainly to keep the
area clean and dry. Rob has impressed the nursing staff at
General Surgery with his abilities in re-bandaging, so he gets
the honors. I do not have to go in to see the surgery people
until around the 19th when the surgeon wants to check and make
sure that everything is still fine.

Best of all, Rob went in for a regularly scheduled MRI on June
28th and the tumors that were biopsied have not grown since
February. Either the chemo treatments are working, or the many
purrs have slowed or stopped the growth, or something miraculous
has happened. He still is having increasing problems with his
memory, some behaviors that are a little questionable, and some
temperament, but he's doing pretty good. We've made it this far
and are now looking at Rob's father's birthday on August 3 as our
next goal. His six month diagnosis anniversary is on August 15.
If he is still doing good, we're going to celebrate.

Now for the masters. It took several days for them to accept me
back from the hospital. Wamcee was not very popular with the
owners, though everyone except Tanada has figured out that she's
not really breathing. Tanada still growls and hisses at Wamcee
and has decided that she, Wamcee, is now the lowest cat in the
pecking order. This puts Tanada up a notch and she is very happy
about that. The other cats think Tanada is nuts, but let her do
her hissing in peace. Mike's owner, Qui Gun Kit, has taken to
dumping everything he can off my night stand. Each morning one
of us has to pick everything up. I still cannot reach down and
get anything off of the floor, so Mike usually gets the job.
Huey, Sonya, Merlin, and QC usually sleep with Rob and me, so our
bed is often crowded. Huey still loves to climb under the covers
and snuggle up to Rob. I don't know why, as Rob seems to have no
problems with producing methane. When he isn't doing that, he
often sleeps on my head, as do QC, Merlin, and Tanada. I'm
getting used to having a hot headache at night.

Anyway, for you newbies who are wondering why I'm posting all
this stuff. I'm Pam S. in North Carolina. I am owned by 1
medically retired army husband, 3 adult children-two of whom are
still living with us, and 7 cats: Tanada (black and white grouchy
old womancat), QC (tabby Maine Coon mix of mellow), Merlin (gray
tabby and white blob of a gentlecat), Pine Cone (white and
brownish gray tabby bad boy with an attitude), Huey (White and
pumpkin colored love muffin), Sonya (gray and white tuxedo shy
girl), and Qui Gun Kit (black and white oreo with a pranksters
soul and a lot of willingness to use it). Oh, last but not
least, one d-thing also known as Speedy a husky/shepherd/Bast
knows what cross, that seems to think he's a cat. I once caught
him digging a hole to go to the bathroom in.

Pam S.