Monday, March 30, 2015

The Epitaph on my tomb stone

I am currently in the process of swearing all my relatives that they will be sure to have "She should have known better" on my headstone. Which leads me to my newest adventure, it started out as any normal crazy day. I had a dentist appointment (nitrous oxide is the very best part of this day), then Erik had drivers ed, but had forgotten some paperwork. So my casual morning of shopping turned into a rush home to get a paper packet and rush it back into the driving school. At that point I realized that the dentist had left the filling a little to high, so a quick stop back to the dentist for a quick grind down.

At this point I realize my day has been an absolute waste, so I decide to head home. On my way home, while passing the radio towers between Whitewater and the turn off, I noticed a person on her hands and knees out in the weeds, down by the fence. No apparent cars around, so I back up and walk on down to where a teenage girl was sobbing. I start talking to her and she was obviously coming off something. She asked if I could help her and if I was a devil, I assured her that I didn't think I was a devil and asked her is she wanted to say a prayer before I took her to the hospital. She said yes, so we knelt together and said a prayer.

SIDE NOTE: This is the turning point when this could be an awesome story...

I get her into my car, and she is all scratched up in her itty bitty shorts and tiny tank top, she kept thanking me, then she started talking about Lucifer, demons, angels, and if this was hell. Then she asked if we had to keep living this life over and over, if that was hell. Then she began to talk about how Satan had been an angel and that God forgives everyone, but not her, she had been to bad. This went on for about 5 minutes, crying, and crying, then she needed a drink, which fortunately I had a fresh bottle of water in the truck, then she needed a bag to hurl in. So I gave her a Taco Bell bag (Note: she never actually hurled, thank goodness).

At this point we had made it to Orchard Mesa, and I was thinking I was going to make it, drop her off at the ER and call it good. All that changed however, after we went through the stop light at 28 1/2 Rd, that is when she went bat guano crazy. She started kicking the dash, the window, me, she threw water bottles at me and grabbed the wheel of my truck, while I was going about 50 mph. Thankfully, she was pretty little so I did manage to pull the truck over into the barrow ditch without flipping it (which I was complimented on by both a sheriff deputy and a couple of witnesses). As soon as the truck stopped, she was out running around on the frontage road. Screaming and carrying on, knowing my cell was just about out of juice I decided to go ahead and call 911, but just then an older couple stop to help me stare at her and keep her from getting run over since she is now laying in the east bound lane of the frontage road.

Of course, the 911 dispatcher wanted all kinds of information that I didn't have. I just wanted her to dispatch someone. She asked me the girls name, age, then asked if she was black...I hadn't mentioned that. So... what did the dispatcher know that I didn't. I asked if someone had been dispatched, and if they were running lights, because you can almost see the OM fire station from where we were. Dispatch informed me that fire/ambulance wouldn't be there until law enforcement because the girl was violent... curious, hadn't really mentioned that either. In the mean time, the old people were busy keeping her from getting run over since she was laying flat on her back with her arms out in the middle of the lane. She kept mumbling about demons, then she looked at me and informed me that I was a viper, that I pretended to be all Christian. But God knows! Then she told me that God loved her, my response, "Yes He does, but I'm not real fond of you right now." Finally the officers got her in handcuffs and asked her if she had had something special today, she said she did but they would have to guess!!!

The first deputy said "Mushrooms", "Nope, try again" she said. The other deputy said "Dabs?" "YUP!" she got all excited again, then promptly attempted to pass out. That's when they escorted her over to the ambulance.

After the deputy came back, he told us what daps were, apparently they are super concentrated THC mixed with some type of substance like candle wax, which gives them basically an overdose of marijuana. The deputy told us that this was the 10th case of daps this week. Plus I was the third person to have kicked this particular young lady out of the car. The last guy she ripped his sunglasses off his head while he was driving and called him a cyborg, in fact that was why the deputy's response took so long, he had been out looking for her on the highway.


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Later, he needed my contact info, this made me hesitant, so I told him my name, then when it came to the address I gave him the street and saw the tell-tale tightening of the lips. "yeah, I know, I should have known better". He asked if things had quieted down on our little Mormon family street, I told him it had for awhile after they had gotten Lisa, but recently another cousin had started seriously growing marijuana, and things had gotten a little worse.

In the end, yes I should have just called 911 from the highway...I should have known better.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Missed Me?

OK, yeah, it has been a while so I have finally decided to come clean as to why my blogging has been so erratic. For about the last year I have been progressively having more and more joint and overall muscle pain. I have been to the doctors numerous times in the last 18 months. All kinds of blood tests for everything from West Nile, RA, MS, chronic fatigue, lupus, and fibro myalgia, to more than I can even remember. There were days when getting out of bed required absolutely my entire stubbornness, which anyone that knows me knows how much of that there is, I would get in the shower turn the water as hot as possible and wait until I could move enough to head into work. I was becoming very weak, unable to lift things I have always taken for granted like a bale of hay, or even groceries. I was also having a lot of other symptoms like using the wrong words in conversations, forgetting basic things and finally some pretty serious tummy issues.

Besides the physical issues I was also dealing with some pretty stressful situations at home and work, like having a drug addicted cousin threaten Scott and I with a baseball bat in my front yard, getting Emily settled in her first apartment, my brother-in-law having some serious health issues which Nancy and I rushed over to be with Donna in Ogden. Work finally hired a second analyst who turned out to be a psychopath in my lab for about two months. My sleeping, despite my ambient addiction was approximately 3-4 hours a night. In November I had to go to New Orleans for a water convention and knew I couldn't handle that on my own, so Scott went with me. The day we got home I went and picked up a couple of Shetland ponies that I had bought, and the day after that I had a colonoscopy. The colonoscopy showed lymphocytic colitis which the doctor prescribed some steroids for a couple months to clear up. Blood tests were continuously inconclusive except for one main thing, a serious vitamin D deficiency (no seriously, I am outside all the time).

All of this stress finally caught up with me and I had a pretty serious break down in both my mental and physical health just before Christmas. After seeing my doctor (again) she decided that I needed some serious anti-anxiety drugs, and that the steroid that the gastroenterologist prescribed has caused even more anxiety. So, a couple months on some of these new medications and I'm starting to feel a lot better, and a whole lot more like my old self. Turns out the human body isn't designed to continuously stress and go non-stop. With this new medication, I am still going a lot, probably not as much as I was, but I can sit still long enough to watch a 30 minute sitcom, and I am sleeping about 5-6 hours a night now.

I'm not 100% but I'm working on it, one of the problems of long term vitamin D deficiency is muscle weakness, and so as recommended by my doctor I am now going to a tanning bed about once a week, which is really weird for me. The anti-anxiety drugs are helping with the muscle and joint pain, and I am trying really hard to slow down....I promise, I really am trying.

So on top of all that, I just haven't had the energy or enthusiasm to keep up with the blog, but I have had several things that I wanted to blog about, so for the next few months there may be some random posts from the last year or so.

Thanks for checking back in

Losing some Cow Creds

Image result for fibula


Two weeks ago, Jason's cow Fat Minda, had the first calf of the season. I was busy cleaning out Peppermint's temporary stall in Harriet's garage. He said she was being really protective, but I sort of disregarded that. After I cleaned out the stall, I headed up to the top of the orchard to check out the new addition. The old cow didn't seem to irritated at first, but I still didn't think I got to close. Then suddenly she was up and at me, she hit me in the chest, so I punched her between the eyes. She turned back and checked on her calf and I figured we were done, so I turned around and started back down along the fence line. That's when I heard her coming up from behind, I turned to face her just in time for her to lower her head and catch me just under the rib cage. She tossed me high enough in the air that I remember thinking, "Wow, this is just like when Daddy used to throw me up in the air when I was little".  When I came back down on the top of her head, she bumped me like a volleyball and I went back on my butt.

I hobbled home, pretty embarrassed and stopped in for a lecture from both my mother and Nancy. Then as soon as I got in the house Allie called on the phone wanting to know why I was walking like a 90 year old. I shrugged it off most of the day, Scott just shook his head. That afternoon Nancy and I went in to get tanned and do a little shopping, then I finally asked her to drop me off at the ER, because the leg was hurting pretty good. Turns out I snapped the top of the fibula at the little notch thing. They ordered and MRI, but it showed that all the tendons and soft tissue was good, but I have a pretty serious bone bruise on the inside of the tibia. Fortunately the tip that has broken off didn't move, so it is just a matter of waiting a couple months for everything to heal on its own. While going over the results the doctor asked me if I remembered how my leg had gone while she was throwing me up and my leg was squeezed between her head and a cattle panel, I told him no, but I was thinking, "How was my leg? Dude I was to busy thinking WEEEEEE!"

I have some lovely drugs, can still wear my high heels and have a pretty bruised cow credential resume. I am sure that there were a host of ancestor cattlemen on the other side of the veil watching, nodding their heads that I definitely deserved what I got.

My Secret Profession

Last fall, I had an unfortunate accident at work. I was a little embarrassed so I wouldn't own up to exactly what happened to anyone at work. Shortly after this happened I went down with Nancy to watch some of the Andrus Brothers play football.  While I was down in St. George the boys kept asking me what had happened. I didn't want to explain to them either, but during a conversation with Milo, I said it had happened at work. "What do you do?" he asked, "Well, I certainly don't work for a super secret government agency that monitors and tests the zombie virus....uhhhhh, I'm a secretary, yeah that's it, a secretary"

Finally, we made a deal, if the wound continued to head toward zombie, they could shoot me, if not, then the vaccine must be working.