Sickness Begets Sickness

Remember in August when I was freshly 30?  I felt magical and confident.  I was queen of the hill.  And the little town below the hill.  And the whole world obeyed my commands.  I was the most beautiful girl in the land.  I was.... so... young and healthy.

That was a dream.

A few days before my birthday, and throughout the month of August I got laryngitis.  Which at first I thought was super sexy.  I just love me a woman with a low raspy voice.  It was super hot.  Until all my friends had heard it.  And I couldn't talk at all.  And it lasted for 4 weeks.
When my voice came back I started getting sick about once a week with the old pukies.  Just randomly I'd be sick.  And since I'm not on the super health-nut side of the scale.... I figured my body just didn't agree with a Big Mac AAAAAAnnnnd the 20 piece nugget.  and a large Cokey.  Or the next time it happened I figured the habeneros were a step too far and maybe I shouldn't have added them to my wing sauce.  I mean, come on.  Bear with me.  We all make dietary mistakes.  Coke and Froot Loops for breakfast constantly sounded good to me!
I am who I am.
All this vomiting climaxed a fateful day in October and I ended up in the emergency room.  They did emergency surgery to take my gull bladder out.  Which was full of gull stones and had collapsed upon itself.  Now, note.... I love saying "emergency surgery" because it makes me feel prominent and important... and, yeah, a little rich.  But I'm not foolin' anyone.  They treated me just like the next person with a bum gull bladder.
When the thing came out I felt a lot better.  I swore of Coke.  Still haven't had any.  I've been clean for 27 days.  Miss it like hell.
Anyha.
My high-rise to health... which was more of a hunched over, timid scuffle... you know... the incisions and what not.  It was short lived.
On Halloween I went trick or treating with my kids and had dinner with my sister.
Saturday morning I was back in the emergency room.
I thought I was having a heart attack.
They ruled that out.  And took like 15 more test before givin' me any meds.
I was sent home around noon being told I had Pleurisy.
Pleurisy is when the pleura around your lungs becomes inflamed and makes it extremely difficult to breathe.
They said after one painful week I'd be back to normal.
I would have given a sigh of relief but I couldn't muster up enough air.
Sunday I went back to the ER.  (Filling up my punch card.  I hear after 10 visits in a month you get a 5% discount.)  I had been throwing up about every 15 minutes for like.... 9 friggin hours.
After hours and hours of tests the good doctors told me I didn't have pleurisy.
I had a gull stone still floating around from my surgery and it had blocked my liver.  And all the bile was building up in my blood.
I was so relieved they knew what was wrong.  FINALLY!
I just started begging, "Put me under.  Put me under.  Put me under."
They refused.  Arrogant medical community.
I ended up getting jaundiced and none of those good good hospital drugs would help with the pain or the vomiting.
It was a rough day and a half.
In the morning they went through my mouth to remove the blockage.
When I woke up I felt like a new person.  Not pukey.  Not yellow anymore.  Just normal Patty.
Well... normal for what I gander an 80 year old would feel like.
I'm up to taking about 50 paces before I'm winded.
And sadly all those wonderful hospital drugs have worn off.

And I have a stinking zit on the inside of my ear.
But I'm hell bent on surviving clear to my thirty-FIRST birthday!
So don't you worry about me!

Garden Goodness

Kids and gardens and me just all go together. 
I love my kids.  I love my garden.  It's our favorite place to be.
I think Kole and Joey love it because they are free to eat whatever they want.
Their fingers, mouths, and spots they've touched on their bellies are constantly stained from fresh strawberry juice.  They also pick carrots out of the ground and eat those. 
Which is slightly less cool because it's basically eating a mud stick.  They don't even brush them off.  Yee-uck.
But picking beans off the vines and munching fresh raspberries and snap peas with my two little cubs- makes my life unbeatable. 

The boys light up when I say, "Let's go work in the garden!"  Of course, their idea of working in the garden is inspecting each plant, digging in the dirt for bugs, and eating what they consider to be ripe.  Poor Joey has eaten a lot of white strawberries this year.  But, he does so with a smile, and always says, "MMmm!  Love it!"

When the plants were just perking up. Circa mid to end of July.

 

When the boys checked on the potato plants they stuck their heads clear inside.  Very very thorough.

These gals are still cluckin' around.  And I've eaten a lifetime's share of omelets, egg salad sandwiches, and quiche.

After a hard days work- you gotta cool off in the kiddie pool and then get right back to tractorin'.  According to Joey.

It's a happy wonderful life at Crooked Row Farm.

The Magic of Being 30.

Graduating from college.
When I decided to finish my degree (slash start my degree in Positive Psychology) I figured it was just a check mark on my life list.  Something I'm supposed "to do."
But let me tell you!
I feel smarter.
I feel like I can play Sudoku on the hardest level and do the Sunday crossword in the NY Times.
I'm pacing myself and playing on the moderate Sudoku level- mostly because I like going in order.  And I'm trying to keep my book nice.
I keep getting these great ideas for apps.  And in my head I'm saying, "I'll type up the code for that tonight and sell it in the morning!  Ching.  Cool million.  Made."
Now, I don't know how to write code.  I'm not even sure that's what it's called- but I'm confident I can learn it.  And quickly too.
I'm envisioning ways to redesign my house like those people on Inception where they can walk up walls and create any world.  That's me.  Walls removed and rebuilt.  Indoor greenhouses.  Wall to wall sewing machines.  A bread room.  It's just flowing from me.
I've made myself a few cups of tea- because it is my personal belief that smart people drink tea.
Especially teas with names like, "Keemun Concerto" and "Breakfast in Paris."
Those teas have just got smart people written all over it.
Unfortunately, and to my dismay, I still strongly dislike the taste of tea.
But!  I have found that simply holding a mug filled with steeping steaming tea provides the same feeling of intelligence.
See?  Miss Smarty here (that's-a-me) figured that one out with her big college degree.

I've also recently turned 30.
And something magical has been transfixed within me.
The cloud of confidence I normally walk on has grown in magnitude to an out-right thunderhead that is unstoppable.

I am a force.

Someone asks me to do something and I'm like..
Psht!  Yeah.
I can do it with my eyes closed.
I can do it standing on one foot.
I can do it with one hand tied behind my back.

A few people have made the jokes about turning 30 and getting old- and I'm just not on board there.  Why is 30 old?  I feel more like myself now.  More full of life and breath.  More excited than I've ever been.  Being 30 is buoyant.  The uneasiness I had as a "twenty-something" that I didn't even know I had; has vanished.
Now, I feel if someone questioned my parenting abilities, cooking techniques, driving skills, fashion choices, grammar usage, weight gain, or spelling- I can simply say:
"I'm 30.  I've got this."
Because I do.

 

I've got this.