Bubba’s Encounter with Kidney Stones (name changed to protect the afflicted)

imageWhen you’re having a bad day with PD, think of this friend of mine who was in and out of ER for two weeks with this crazy thing (and he’s no wimp!)…

(posted on FB a while ago)

‘Bubba’ says:

“Glorious morning in the bathroom for me today. I know that folks post the weirdest stuff on face book. But I finally got to catch my second kidney stone in about 6 months.

“He is a handsome lad with a beaming glow as he sat there looking up at me from the bottom of my urinal. I captured him in a sterile jar like a precious butterfly.

“I will love him and squeeze him and pet him and call him George (if you are old enough to know what cartoon that came from).

“Two weeks to the morning I was diagnosed carrying my two millimeter stone. He was red in color and shaped like an Indian arrowhead. My best trophy to hang on the wall ever.

“Thanks for all the prayers while I fought this fight. Hope to never do this again.”

Lessons:

  • Don’t be embarrassed to share your struggles
  • Look  for the best in every situation
  • When in any battle, be it spiritual, emotional, physical or whatever, don’t hesitate asking for prayer.
  • If you don’t want things shared within the universe, don’t post them on Facebook or YouTube. (Thanks ‘Bubba’ for the ‘post’. )

Journeying with you – sherri

Lessons from A Fall

Copyright 2012 by Sherri Woodbridge
Copyright 2012 by Sherri Woodbridge

today.

hot.

chances of no rain.

no breeze.

just hot.

but a beautiful day.

 

so i decided to wash down the house.

rid the structure of black widows that seemed to be crawling into every crack.

every crevice.

every hole.

every opening.

everywhere.

 

did i mention i hate underwire bras?

yes.

that’s important to know.

i only have one.

because it’s still decent

too decent to not feel guilty of discarding.

and today, i was wearing just that one.

that’s important to know.

 

i sprayed the sides of the structure.

the windows.

the overhangs.

 

i killed one.

two.

three.

four.

five black widows as big as my pinky.

 

i felt like the exterminator in Aracnophobia

and watched them sizzle against the wood

in the 105 degree sun

while spraying them with poison.

 

it was spine chilling.

but i did it.

 

and then it was time to move hose,

from the back.

to the front.

 

as i stood up

after bending over to unhook the hose

from the faucet,

it happened.

 

i fell.

i took three steps forward –

and i fell.

 

and i was reminded of the little teapot

who was short and stout

who was tipped out and poured out

and i felt just like her –

short and stout,

tipped and toppled over

and poured out all over the cement driveway.

 

and the broom stick i was holding,

instead of bracing me and giving me support,

toppled with me

and jabbed into my left breast

and the only thing one can think of

when confronted in such a situation is

“did anyone see me?”

 

with pride intact,

i slowly stood

surprising myself

with the lack of tears

and carried on

with the task at hand.

 

and as i began to spray again

i rubbed the sore spot,

quite certain

i at least badly bruised,

if not cracked, the rib

in the spot aforementioned.

 

as i rubbed it,

i noticed the wire in my brazier

was badly bent

where the broomstick handle had hit.

 

i changed from my pest control uniform

into my S.W.A.T. team member uniform,

for at that moment i felt like one

who had been shot

and saved by the bullet proof vest –

(in my case the brazier)

i had been wearing.

 

instead of hating that underwire bra

i suddenly was oh so thankful for it –

after all, it saved my life

(at least my breast).

 

so how does this have anything to do with Parkinson’s disease?

 

ladies, it may be safer to wear underwire bras.

at least if your carrying a broom stick

while hunting for black widows.

 

it’s been tested.

and they work.

i have the ‘v’ shaped wire to prove it.

Doing Drugs

 There’s a pill for my shaking

That I should be taking

And a pill to help that pill go down.

 

There’s a pill for my legs

That I can’t have with eggs

But I still do if no one’s around.

***

There’s a pill for the pain

It works in sunshine but not rain

And a pill for the lack of a good memory.

 

There’s a pill for the down days

that I must take for always

or I’ll seem to be somebody else – not me.

***

There’s a vitamin I take

That aides the pill that helps me not shake

And another that helps all around.

 

I counted my pill stash

Something I can’t do with my cash

As the cash is spent on all these pills that abound.

***
Azilect, Vitamin E, Vitamin D,

Requip, Carbadopa, Lexapro, they be

All these into my mouth they must go.

 

Add to that Sinemet and Artane,

Don’t forget the pill that helps with the  pain

‘Cause I follow doctor’s orders, it’s so.

***

There’s plenty more

At the local drugstore

It’s convenient to just make a call.

 

I ask for a refill

Of this pill and that pill

They’ll be happy to give you them all.

***
Just name your price

They’ll treat you real nice

And tell you what you don’t want to hear

 

“That’ll be three hundred dollars, please”

“But I have no insurance , you see”

And they keep your stash and offer an “Oh,dear.”

***

 

You wonder if it matters if you skip a pill

After all, you’ve certainly had your fill

But you come up with nothing but… empty.

 

You’re a young person still

With a disease against your will

Trying to make the best of a travesty.

 

***

So pay the fee to pop the whites and the reds

And just before climbing up and snuggling into bed

Don’t forget to take the purple and orange one, too.

 

For when you awake the next morning

And you feel like you are soaring

Just remember, those pills are helping you be you.