Cheeky Hummingbird has been back for a couple of weeks now, but has just been surveying the scene in the backyard, until yesterday. Chewbacca and I were outside, getting some fresh air, sitting on the couch, and CH came whizzing by. There is a backless chair over by the grill that Doc uses as a table when he grills. Standard wooden kitchen chair with supports below it. And CH flew under that chair. I saw him poke at something a few times, then open his mouth and consume something. Then he flew out from under the chair and flew under the porch, buzzing the top of my head.
A few minutes later, he came back, and went back under the chair and did this biting and pulling thing a few more times. After he flew off, I quickly went over to see what was up. He was harvesting tiny bugs from a spider web, and destroying the web in the process. Good Cheeky Hummingbird! I went back and sat down, and the wee creature did this thing 5 more times, until the web was in tatters and clear of gnats. Then he flew over to the Impossible Palms and landed for a rest. I have to get him a feeder. He needs some sugar water. He's been here for three years. I don't know why he is so attached to this house. But I adore him.
Having the same idea about Boomer being happier if she went out sometimes, Doc let her out last night while he was out back. She didn't like it a bit and ran screaming into the house. Well, inside screaming. She did get a little catnip last night. But she was afraid to "let go" and fully get into it and roll around like she likes to. Liked to. Totally different cat than the one we brought home. I broke her.
There is no waiting quite like waiting for laxatives to go to work. According to the web, my output would indicate that my colon is indeed emptying. Thank Dog for the internet. I never want to have to pay this much attention to my poop ever again. The lovely Stephanie suggested Colace. I'm going to get me some of that. Sounds much less traumatizing.
I have this huge bottle of 800mg Ibuprofen that is completely useless to me. They don't take away the pain (which has averaged a 7 out of 10 for the past, what, 5 days now?), make my stomach hurt, and poison my liver with all the other stuff I am taking.
So Doc is at the pharmacy, and the Pharmacist (from here, referred to as P) asks Doc if he needs a consult. From what I was told, the conversation went something like this:
P: Do you need a consult on any of this? Let's see, breathing meds, antibiotics, and Ibuprofen . . . what is going on here?
Doc: Well her allergies developed into bronchitis, and while she was coughing one day, the dusty day, she cracked a rib.
P: What is she, 65, 70?
Doc: No, in her mid-40's
P: So her bone density is low.
Doc: We think so, she's going to an Orthapedist to get checked out. Are there any contraindications with the psych meds she's already on?
P: Let me see . . . (consults computer) . . . She might have some nausea, and make sure she drinks lots of water, especially if you are adding a laxative to this mix.
Doc also went into how I don't take care of myself or eat right or get exercise, and got the pharmacist to agree this downfall is my own fault. Oh, and some of it is the 30 years of assorted psych meds.
I mentioned that my rib wasn't cracked. That's why he didn't just give me a narcotic and send me home to heal, that the bone would have to be set back into place, you know, from the inside. I got accused of being melodramatic and I was told to get out of his room.
Then he went out and came home a few hours later (after dealing with some B and J drama) with a double bacon cheeseburger and chocolate shake for me. Then he went to sleep, and I honestly don't know what I did. When he got up, we hung out for a while and then I took my night meds and settled in to sleep. I kept getting up, and Doc kept putting me back to couch. Finally he relented and let me get up about 5am.
A few hours later he went out and came home with four bacon breakfast sandwiches, a bag of frozen tater tots, a bag of frozen cheese sticks, some ice cream bars to settle my stomach, and several kinds of cereal I'm normally not allowed to eat. So he's trying. He's struggling inside.
He also brought the nebulizer out and had me do a 10 minute breathing therapy, like I wanted to do yesterday and he talked me out of. So, we're making some progress.
He wants to immobilize my right arm. I am using it too much and stretching it and reaching with it and picking up heavy things with it and he's right. It should just be taped to my side.
Tomorrow I have to call that Orthopedic Group. They have several doctors in the one practice, one of them has to be taking new emergency patients. I also have to call that lawyer's advocacy group about the DHS hearing. And getting info on that has been hell. What else does DHS stand for, besides Dept. of Human Services? That's right! Dept. of Homeland Security. Guess which comes up in a google search? Homeland and I know all we need to about each other. And now my search history looks like I was searching for it. Argh!
We'll just put that in the file with the time I google earthed the compound at Langley.