Archives for February 2013

Full, Good Day

Full, Good Day

A Baby in a Basket!

A Baby in a Basket!

Today I worked, went to a baby shower and rounded out my evening by checking in at the Maine Tweetup – where I ended up staying much longer than I originally intended.

For the baby shower, I made the balloon sculpture to the right. Click here to see more pix. It was a big hit.

The tweet up was fantastic. So many people. I met some new ones, gave out some Lounging with LannaLee pens, and had a truly good time.

And now it’s late and time to go to bed. Let’s see how I do with that.

Too Many Things

My brain is full of too many things. Death, dying, money, balloons, podcasting, sleep, responsibilities, ugh.

Tomorrow’s Lounging with LannaLee Podcast is ready to go.

I just got distracted from writing this for 15 minutes. I was doing something important. I can’t remember what I was doing.

I am so sleepy, I might just fall asleep right now.

I should go to sleep.

Oh. I need to register my car. I should check what time the City Hall Opens. BRB.

Opens at 8:30. I’m supposed to be in the office at 8:30. Maybe I’ll do it on Friday instead. Just to be a rebel or something.

I hate it when people say “FML” online. If you don’t know what it means, it stands for “F*ck my life.” No matter how down I get, I still think my life is pretty good. I am grateful for my husband, my mom, my brother, my in-laws, my job, my kitties, my apartment, my car, my other family (chosen and stuck with – they all blend together). I’ve had a pretty shitty past 12 months or so, but my life, my loves, my network, all helped me survive it.

That said, not ready to say “love my life” right now (see reference to shitty 12 months in last paragraph).

I’ll settle for: MLIORNNGBIGFTGT or “My Life is okay right now, not great, but I’m grateful for the good things”.

Singing Songs

Singing Songs

I am such an idiot. I realized a few weeks ago I could purchase individual Karaoke songs on Amazon and therefore I have no excuse not to practice singing.

I haven’t sung much at all since 2005 – an eon ago. And I am very rusty.

Here comes the Karaoke!

I spent the last hour singing in my office, and I loved it. Not sure if the neighbors or Edmund did, especially when I kept singing the same songs over and over and over, but they (Edmund & neighbors) will just need to get over it!

Ukulele Awesomeness!

Ukulele Awesomeness!

I have also misappropriated Edmund’s ukulele; you have been warned.

I am bringing back some old favorites I used to sing back in the 1990’s like Goldfinger, Big Spender, Crazy, I fall to Pieces, and adding a few more, including I want to be Evil (as sung by Eartha Kitt).

Now to figure out WHERE I can sing in public.

Holding On By a Thread

I seem fine. I act fine, most of the time. And really, I suppose I feel fine. But I’m just hanging on by a thread.

Not much self-reflection lately. I’d rather read or watch tv. Or stare into space. Or idly click links on the interwebs, following them to wherever they lead. Just so I don’t have to think about how I am.

When we lost my Dad last year we had no idea we would be in the same situation this year with Edmund’s Dad. It is simply too much. Good men, taken too young. The thing is, Henry is still here.

Henry is here, but he’s not here. He doesn’t remember if he ate two hours ago. He doesn’t get that he can’t walk on his own. It’s heartbreaking to see such a wonderful man just a shell of his former self, all due to cancer and its myriad of complications.

I haven’t been crying much lately, but I cried on my way home tonight. Back when Dad died, I cried once or twice a day, usually on my commute to work. I even wrote a post about how I was doing last June. There was a moment I felt I could never be happy again. How could I, without my Dad to joke around with?

When I think of what Edmund is going through and what he will go through when Henry passes, my heart just breaks. Sure, it gets better, and maybe it will be easier because we’ve known this might be on the horizon since the first time Henry had cancer in 2008, but I expect it will still suck a lot.

When you have a good parent, it is hard to let them go. And we both have been blessed with good parents.

It’s helpful to look at the blessings. It takes the sting out. Henry is where he wants to be; at home, in hospice care. We’ve been able to see him a few times since the cancer recurrence, and if we are lucky enough, we’ll be able to see him again. Our jobs have been flexible in giving us the time we need (and for me, allowing me to work remotely from PA) all so we can spend time with Ed’s family.

What’s next? That’s the hardest part. It is clear Henry is not going on anyone else’s schedule. He will go when he’s good and ready, it seems.

“I’m not dead yet”, Henry says.

Ahh, there’s another blessing.

Snoozy Sunday

Snoozy Sunday

*Snort* I’m awake! I’m awake!

Done nothing but read and sleep today. Well, I bathed this morning. Put a click in the “Go Me” column.

Very glad we got home yesterday, meaning we wouldn’t have to drive in the snow today. Now we are safe and warm and we don’t even need to deal with the snow until tomorrow. That’s a good thing.

Snow is awesome if you don’t have to shovel or move it.

So, because I don’t have anything to say, AND because I forgot to post these yesterday, here are some more pictures of our trip back from Pennsylvania.

Edmund plays pinball!

Edmund plays pinball! (At Mass Pike’s Charlton Service Plaza, Eastbound)

Imported from Maine! (At Mass Pike's Charlton Service Plaza, Eastbound)

Imported from Maine! (At Mass Pike’s Charlton Service Plaza, Eastbound)

Edmund rocks it to Nine Inch Nails' Wish.

Edmund rocks it to Nine Inch Nails’ Wish.

In the Dark

In the Dark

No. Seriously. Totally in the dark.

We got home today, hooray!!!, and now I’m chilling in my home office. I went out to get some tea and when I came back the light was out. I thought that maybe Edmund turned it off. But NOOOOOO, the bulb gave up. We use the extended bulbs, so it’s been a couple of years.

The thing is, I am not tall enough to reach the light without a ladder, and Edmund is, plus I’m afraid of heights (falling), so it’s Eddie’s job to change the light bulbs.

The other thing is, Edmund is sleeping right now. And I am loath to wake him, he is pretty exhausted. So in the dark I will remain. Until tomorrow. It’s kind of trippy; my office is illuminated by the light of my monitor. [I might just be a little scared of the dark. I am not turning around just in case there is something lurking behind me. Safety first! If I don’t see it, it’s not there!]

Hey, it's a clown car!

Hey, it’s a clown car!

We saw this car at the New Hampshire liquor store on 95 North. Love it! It looks like it was added with a removable marker or something, brilliant idea. I am not surprised the car had Maine plates, [and the vanity plate was LAUGH], Mainers are cool exactly like this!

That is all.

All About Dancing Elvis

You need some Dancing Elvis.

Here’s some Dancing Elvis Balloon Puppet:

A Baby Dancing LIKE Elvis:

And the great Elvis himself:

HEy, here’s some more Elvis. You’re WELCOME!

Decisions, Decisions

We’ve decided to go home this weekend. Henry has been fairly stable, it seems he has bounced back from the crisis of last week. It’s time for us to be back home.

I don’t have much else to say.

I’m glad we came. It was important for us to be here, and a blessing to be able to hang out with Henry some more.

Cramped Quarters

Eddie’s parents have a 3-bedroom ranch house, with 2.5 baths. So it really is big enough for all six of us. But still, going from an apartment where I have my own office to a place where Ed and I are SLEEPING in the office takes a bit of an adjustment.

For instance, I am typing this as the dulcet sounds of my snoring husband’s symphonic nasal orchestra waft toward me. [He must be tired, he usually needs the lights off before he can fall asleep.]

We’ve been good though. I showed great restraint this morning/afternoon by not waking Edmund up when I was hungry. [It would be so he could get me some food, natch.] That makes me a better person, you know.

It seems like Henry is still holding on, that he might be with us a bit longer. We’re going to talk to the nurse tomorrow to decide what our next steps will be. We might head home over the weekend. Or we might stay until next week. We don’t know yet.

Right now, I’m going to close up the internet shop and join Eddie’s nasal orchestra. It’s sounding a little too bass right now.


I want something FUN to put up here. I know! Macklemore!

My work here is done.

Working While Waiting

I am very lucky that I have a job that I can work at while we are in Pennsylvania. I can be with my family AND keep up with my work responsibilities.

And work helps keep my mind busy. Very necessary.

We’ve been told Henry has a week left (which would sound about right based on the month the hospice nurses gave him over three weeks ago). He is still eating and whatnot, so it’s hard to tell exactly when it’s going to happen. That said, I believe my Dad was eating right up until the day before he passed. If I remember correctly, the first stage is that the patient stops eating and then the patient will stop voiding (pee and poop). Dad had a nice bowel movement the day before he died. So it could be that fast for Henry.

Henry wants things. Impossible things, I suppose he imagined seeing commercials for the bargain pizzas at Pizza Hut (2 for $1!). He wants Edmund to get these things for him. Right now.

The perspective piece is that Henry is not mean, even when he isn’t getting what he wants. He is extremely persistent, stubborn and single-minded. But mostly he just wants to get out of bed and to eat cheap pizza. Immediately. And get him a footstool, would you?

We have another person blogging about Henry, Ed’s sister, Melinda. Last Friday, she blogged about Henry and what was happening with him. She’s a great writer, and I recommend her blog. And here she goes into detail of Henry’s illness from the start (in 2008) and what has happened since then, answering the question: how did we get here.

Now back to work.

What’s Happening

Henry wants to get out of bed. He wants to sit on the toilet and read a book and have a nice shit. He wants to take a shower. He wants to swing his legs over the side of the bed, and with the help of a footstool, he is sure he can propel himself toward the shower. Maybe if Robert and Edmund help him, he can do it.

Look, he’s moving his feet (foot), Ed, get over here and help him.

Chris is keeping him on the bed, he says. We tell him, ok Henry, if you can get up, go ahead. He says he can.

We wait.

It’s both hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time.

Ed’s Dad (the erstwhile Henry) is paralyzed on the left side and is bed ridden. It’s from one of the strokes he’s had since his brain cancer surgery. When he came home there was a disasterous attempt to fulfill his request, that no one wants to repeat. He cannot sit up without assistance, and he is not a small man.

Hospice care comes by once a day to change his bed and bathe him. Otherwise, the family helps to change him. I was enlisted today. A shitty proposition.

Oh, the poop jokes! They are so many.

And we wait. To see what tomorrow brings.

I think Henry’s feet (foot) are (is) moving again. Let’s get that man a footstool!


Slept crappy last night so I spent the afternoon and evening sleeping.

Disjointed and whatnot.

More later.

Made It.

We’re in PA. Got to say hi to Henry, he’s sleeping now. Time for some reading and sleep.

Nothing else to report.

Road Trip

Road Trip

Me, Henry and Edmund - Wedding Day - July 3, 2004

Me, Henry and Edmund – Wedding Day – July 3, 2004 [Click to embiggen]

Getting ready for an unexpected trip. Tomorrow morning, Edmund and I will be driving to Pennsylvania to be with his family. They think his Dad could be dying in a couple of days.

If you’ve been around for a while, you know know what’s going on: Henry (Eddie’s Dad) has brain cancer. His first bout was in 2008; it came back this past summer. He had surgery, which had complications, including a stroke, and now he is paralyzed on the left side. He’s been in hospice care, at home, since right before Christmas. Edmund went to visit three weeks ago, and the hospice nurse told him his Dad had a month left. Looks like she was right.

It doesn’t seem real yet. I might be in a bit of denial.

So we’re getting up in the morning, getting ready and motoring toward Pennsylvania. We’re hoping to get to talk to Henry one more time before he goes. Or maybe two or three times. Four? Five? Hey, we’ll take many more times if we can.