This time it's not me. Please say a little prayer for my neighbor, Susie. She's 66 years old - same age as my Mom. Yet, I never see her as that age because she's always out and about, walking her two weenie dogs, shuttling her grandkids, taking care of her elderly mom who lives with her.
She take the time to say good morning to the kid and me when we're getting into the jalopy each morning on our way to school. She plays with our dog, Ranger, in the yard while we're at work so that he doesn't get lonely. The whole nine yards. I love this woman.
Last week, while shopping, she fell inside a store, breaking her humerus and dislocating her shoulder. They had to knock her out in order to get the shoulder back in. The break? They don't put a cast on it. You just have to wear a sling until it heals and deal with the pain. While doing a scan in the ER, they found that she has an enlarged aorta. It's not good.
You have surgery to correct this, and it's not a pretty surgery, either.
We cancelled out trip to Williamsburg so we could keep an eye on her and her mom. I wouldn't have been able to ride any of the rides with my shoulder back in my sling anyway. I'm taking her to the doctor today to see about the aorta issue.
So send up a prayer, light a candle, push some white light Susie's way. She's good people. No two ways about it.
On a good note - those of you who aren't Facebooking along with my addicted ass need to hear a good vignette:
Last night, we had a thunderstorm here. The rumbling was greatness. I heard one particular boomer followed by my kid yelling, "Good job, Grandpa!" We have this understanding that thunder is nothing to be afraid of because it's just Grandpa whacking some golf balls up in heaven. I wasn't in the same room, hadn't been talking about him - nothing. Knowing that my kid, who's never met my Dad, has that connection made me feel amazing.
Hiatus
12 years ago
