Thursday, April 07, 2011

Happy Birt'day

Before I forget, I want to wish my sister, JR, a happy birthday.  I'd like to point out that even though I'm rapidly heading towards fift-er-twent-er-old, JR is also headed towards the big 4-0.  I wonder if that makes my dad feel old.  He has some old kids!  Shoot, knowing that my baby is 17 makes me feel old.  Though of course, if I look at my age, I could consider that as being old.


Lampshade scared the heck out of me and his wife yesterday.  It's funny, when there is an emergency now, Saige is calm and takes control of the situation.  This is completely opposite from how she used to be, when she'd take off running from the house in complete panic.  Dealing with me when I had the pneumonia and the seizures, I think, gave her the confidence to know she could handle things.  Anyway.  I guess Lamp had acted strange all day.  He'd been really sleepy.  His wife, Britney, woke him up from a nap and asked if he wanted to smoke a cigarette.  He went downstairs with her, and she was chatting to him and she noticed he was staring at the sky.  She said, "Dang, baby, you are trippin', aren't you?"  When he fell down and went rigid.  His eyes were rolled back in his head and his jaw was open, as he gasped for breath.  Jethro was there, washing his truck, and he came immediately when Britney called for him.  She came inside and said, "I think Lamp is having a seizure."  I went out, saw him, and said, "Yeah, he sure is."  Saige was busy calling the ambulance.

What scared us was that it took a long time for him to come out of the seizure, and it was obvious he had no idea who anyone was.  He looked up and saw the firemen over him, and he went into an absolute panic as they tried to get him into the chair they use to carry people down the stairs.  He was screaming and fighting, yelling, "Let go of me!"  I kept saying, "He's panicked, you guys, he's so scared!"  The female EMTs were asking if I would talk to him, or if Britney would, but the firemen wouldn't let us get to him.  Finally, they got him downstairs, and he took off, running.  He made it about three steps, and then tried to hide at the front of the ambulance.  Saige and I went to him, and I told him that he needed to get into the ambulance, that he wasn't in trouble, and they were trying to help him.  (I got very, very firm)  Saige said, "Look, you are scaring your wife!"  He looked like he had no idea who his wife was, but he did climb up into the ambulance.  He bypassed the cot all together, and he was sitting on the side bench, which wasn't going to work.  Finally we convinced him to get on the cot.

Apparently, he cried all the way to the hospital, and then was crying in the room, asking for his mom. (That would be me)  He even asked the ambulance driver to pull over so he could have me ride with him.  (They said that would be a bad idea)  When Britney and I were finally allowed into the room, the nurse said, "He's been constantly asking for you.  What's up with that?" I shrugged.  (He's weird?  I don't know) Britney said, "He always wants his mom when he's sick or hurt."  Lamp was sobbing and holding tight to Britney, and he looked up at me with such terror in his eyes.  I said, "It's so scary, isn't it?  When you don't remember what happened?"  He sobbed out, "YES!  Did I have a seizure?"  He was like a little boy again, so scared, but a combative little boy is much easier to control than a muscular dude who's over 6 feet tall.  He's skinny, but he's wiry.  When he found out that he was fighting the EMTs and firemen, he started crying harder, afraid he'd hurt someone.  I found the women EMTs and they assured him that they were all fine.

One of them told m e that something seemed really wrong.  They'd never anyone react the way he did.  One fireman, an older guy, kept saying that he bet Lamp did drugs.  That the last time he was here, they'd had to have Lamp arrested because he'd done drugs.  Not true.  Lamp had overdosed in a suicide attempt.  WE called the police.  This time was different.  Britney keeps a very, very close eye on him now.  She keeps his medications and keeps track of when he takes them and how many he takes.  I realize he can be sneaky, because addicts can be extremely adept at getting their drugs, but she was sure he hadn't taken too many of anything.

The doctor determined it was a pseudo-seizure, not a grand mal like Erma had and I had.  (Saige actually called it.  She knows what a grand mal looks like, poor kid!)  Pseudo makes it sound fake, but it's not.  It's a real seizure, but there are no changes on an EEG.  However, Lamp didn't have an EEG done, just a CT scan.  He did fall hard and hit his head, and after that he started seizing we wondered if that's what caused it.  The CT scan didn't show any brain injury, so who knows?  They didn't mention any drugs or overdoses, so that probably wasn't the cause, but you know, I'd like to report that one fireman who was being such an ass about Lamp and drugs.  Lamp has been trying so hard, you guys.  He's really trying.  He's trying to be a good husband, a good man, and not to use drugs or drink.  Of course, he is on probation, and they do random drug checks, but still, I think it's more than that.  Oh, he's still eating all my food and leaving his soda cups everywhere, and he forgets to put the seat down in the bathroom... but he is trying.  He's helping me by walking the dogs and cleaning things, and Britney is wonderful about cleaning up.  In case you didn't know, they are staying with me now.  It's not supposed to be for a long period of time, but who knows?  They have applied for housing and food stamps, but unfortunately, due to not having much money, their phone is off right now.  I was using Jethro's phone, but it's out of money now, too, so it was only good for a couple of days.  Anyway, the doctor thought the seizure might have been caused by stress.

It scared me.  I thought, at one point, that we'd lost Lampshade.  He wasn't breathing.  Thank goodness Jethro was there and was able to keep his head and check for a pulse, and he thought to prop Lamp's head up to make breathing easier.

Yes, Jethro is home.  He's staying with Macrame and her kids, Hope and Justice.  Oh, and her dad and his wife live there, too.  It's a bit crowded, but then again, so is my place.

I haven't written much lately, and I'm behind on email responses.  My hands have been doing their swelling nonsense again, and even now, typing, they keep going numb and I have to stop typing until I can feel my fingers again.  It's not much fun.  I did have my blood drawn on Monday, though, and I hope it shows something.  Erma said that you can tell there's inflammation by just looking, you don't need blood work, but they are also checking the Rh factor and some other things that might help with the diagnosis.  I just want to know what's wrong.

I did have to laugh, though, when I saw that I now have four followers.  Yay!  But I laughed because two of them are related to me, one is me, and one is my fake daughter.  That's okay, though!  I like followers!  The more, the merrier, that's what I say.  Okay, I don't usually say that, but I might say it some time.

I really really really want to see the movie that's coming out on April 15th, called The Conspirator.  I'm sure there will be glaring errors in this movie that I will have to point out to everyone around me, but I still want to see it.  I've seen National Geographic specials that were so wrong in their information that I had to comment about it, loudly, to the television screen.  (Willie Lincoln died at the age of 10, in the summer of 1862 was one huge error.  No, he died at 11, and it was in February, hardly summer time. Stupid mistakes!)

Even at the Abraham Lincoln presidential museum they have a mock up of Mary Lincoln looking sadly at a picture of Willie.  Well, she got rid of all the things around her that reminded her of him, and she never went into the rooms where he died or was embalmed as long as she lived in the White House.  Abraham Lincoln, on the other hand, kept various pictures and items Willie had drawn or worked on, including a scrap book that he took particular pride in.  So for the Presidential museum to have Mary looking longingly at a photo of Willie makes me kind of sad--because she wouldn't have done that.  Ever.  Ah well.  No one there ever asked for my opinion about how to set up the museum.

Okay, I have to get going.  I just wanted to let you guys know that Lampshade is all right, assuming, of course, you knew what happened last night.

Go in peace, be warm and filled.

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