PRICEY PANDEMIC

 

Whenever I read about all those people who saved money big time during the lock-down I shake my head, I've always felt that I live in a different reality and now I'm sure of it!

And suddenly there's crazy high inflation! I probably should have thought again about purchasing that expensive cake online for my birthday, but I doubt I'll be doing that again.

My friend Sue has been after me to go on a cruise with her for several years now. Unfortunately due to the expense of so many out-of-the-blue medical, dental, & vision issues I've been constantly forced to put this off. Well now I've had to inform her that I probably won't be going on any more vacations during this lifetime.

My health issues accelerated after I returned from Thailand in 2016.What is worrisome is I know that at my age it's only the beginning.

"Forget about the cruise," My other friend Marie told me. "Consider yourself fortunate you were able to visit as many wonderful and exotic places in your lifetime that you did! For example, how many people get to see Thailand!" --

-- I read that more people have visited Thailand than anyplace else on the planet, so I would say quite a few! And I was thrilled to be one of them.

However Thailand was more than just a vacation! It was an exploratory trip to a country I was considering expatriating due to the low cost of living and affordable health care there. Ditto for Ecuador in 2015.The only 100 per cent vacation recently was when Rose & I flew to the Galapagos Islands from mainland Ecuador!

However both Thailand and Ecuador proved too Third World for my taste as far as a permanent home. I also considered Mexico. I loved visiting there during the 1970's, unfortunately it's no longer as safe.

And I considered Portugal. I was there in 1977. I did not find it Third World. So I began doing research only to discover as many cons as pros to moving there.

But after the pandemic hit, I was grateful that I didn't expatriate to any of those places!

I must accept that all of these health issues come as part of the territory when getting older and deal with them as best I can here.

THE $$ CAKE

 

Life is divided into cubes, chunks & slices, mine are labeled. There's the A.D. (After Dad) period, and the B.C. (Before Candlelight, our florist shop) period. Also there's the Glorious Years (my early childhood), the Hell Years which is how I remember my teens, The Agony & Exploration years (I worked at a job I hated, but also was fortunate enough to travel the world), The Great Depression following directly afterward lasting 2 decades where the highlight of my life was grocery shopping, The New Hell Years (when my father remarried), My Roaring & Exciting Red Haired Years, and now My Gray Haired Years.

Up until the 21st century was what I refer to as The Year of the Nine Finale Pattern, because every year ending in a 9 heralded a major change; either a move to a different house, a graduation, a new job, or even the end of an old one.

Now in my Gray Haired period I feel myself teetering on the verge of another Great Depression, one which I hope will not end with my death. To die happy has always been my goal!

Online during the holidays I kept seeing this marvelous, but obscenely expensive Irish Cream Espresso cake. I've had Irish coffee and frankly, I didn't like it. However I've eaten the cake version with just a hint of Irish cream flavor without the nasty alcohol taste. And it was a heavenly new level of deliciousness!

I began lusting after that cake. Every day my willpower was weakening a little more.

My 71st birthday was coming up and mother died at age 72. If death was around the corner I wanted to die having tasted that cake! Next year I might not be able to afford such an indulgence, but this year by golly I was going to have it!

The cake was $50 but I got $20 off because I was a new customer. Then, there was the $35 shipping fee. I was starting to rethink this, but decided to proceed.

It arrived in dry ice. I had to Google how to dispose of that safely. I needed gloves and tongs along with protective clothing because it burned flesh. It felt as if I was handling nuclear waste. Google suggested leaving it outside to evaporate in a sturdy container away from animals.

My neighborhood is full of cats & dogs as well as curious squirrels. So I decided to place it out in my screened-in back porch. If a few chameleons went belly-up I'd just consider it collateral damage.

After unpacking it I immediately placed it in the freezer where it will last up to six months. This way I can enjoy it longer.

The cake tasted like one you'd buy in a fancy pastry shop rather than a supermarket. It was good, but any flavor of Irish Cream or Espresso was almost nonexistent; more like the baker took a swig and breathed on it.

But it felt special and this was a birthday I really needed it!

OKAY, NOT OKAY, I'M BACK

 

And wallowing in my misery, no apologizes! This is my blog and if I want to wallow I will! And if you have a problem with it, stop reading right here!

In just a couple days I've another birthday, my first on the wrong side of 70.

A year ago I loved my face and was proud if it! My skin still firm, I look decades younger. However now whenever I gaze in the mirror all I see is that ugly wound staring back at me like a rattlesnake!

Friends tell me not to worry because it's going to heal. Well of course it's going to heal! -- That's NOT the issue! I'm going to be stuck with one hell of a scar in a prominent spot!

Yes, there's the option of a skin graft which really isn't an option at all. I have more pressing expenses.

I'm waiting to see how it looks when it heals. If there is any way I can live with this scar I will. I need my money more than the plastic surgeon does!

Constantly I'm seeing photos of celebrities my age with comments underneath praising how good they look for their advanced years. But I can't help but wonder how many face lifts or Botox they've endured.

I've always been too poor for any of that stuff, yet I thought I looked every bit as attractive and youthful as they did -- sometimes even better! Plus I did it through clean living and good choices NOT thru plastic surgeons.

I've been meticulously careful and I do not deserve this! OK, so I wasn't as mindful of the sun during my childhood and teens, but why did this take 50 years to manifest itself?

A close friend told me that she had a skin cancer removed from a place never exposed to the sun. Why couldn't mine have been there instead, or on a hand or leg, why my face?!

A year or so before the pandemic, I was in a store and the cashier exclaimed: "You are so pretty! You must have been beautiful when you were young!" I grimaced back at her. -- No one wants to be reminded they're less than what they were. But I still looked good!

As to celebrities, there are plenty who just let themselves go and retire from public life preferring to be remembered as they were. I would never want to be remembered as I was while I'm still around!

Thankfully people are still masking up.

Also I must keep my wound moist and bandaged. Bandaging is a hassle! Due to the goofy location (an area that is constantly stretched) Band-Aid strips do not work. I was forced to use large pads that looked as if half my face was blown off with a shotgun blast.

Now that my wound has stopped bleeding and oozing I cut those pads into quarters snipping the tops & sides. I'm able to position them for a better fit.

I know many people think I place too much emphasis on my looks. These days when it comes to appearance the lack of discipline is applauded. If you care about this at all you're almost demonized.

We're bombarded with propaganda about how looks aren't important! Well, I've had a level of jealousy hurled at me that would floor a Dreadnoughtus! So I kind'a think the opposite! As my friend Pat used to say, "When anyone puts you down, stop to consider the source."

I do and wear it as a badge of pride! I've enjoyed my looks! It was a gift and one I've always felt worth preserving!

TIME OUT

 

I am taking a winter break from blogging. Normally I love the holidays and look forward to them, but not this time around.

2021 has been a terrible year. I've been fighting off a depression the like of which I haven't experienced in decades. And I'm sure no one wants to read about it.

But I'm determined to at least enjoy Christmas, and maybe New Year's, also my 71st birthday which falls shortly afterward. -- Despite the fact I'm just NOT feeling it.

So I plan to throw myself into the many things I enjoy! Plus I'm going to be spending some significant time on my (in progress) new novel. Doing this, detracts me from those awful things that have attached themselves to my life right now; blogging (although great therapy) only makes me wallow in them.

LIFE AMONG THE FLINTSTONES

 

That's exactly how it felt! The only things missing were Fred & Wilma. For three and a half days I was part of the modern Stone Age family without a phone, TV, or internet!

And worse I had surgery coming up and no way to contact the doctor's office or vise versa should an emergency arise. But thanks to my friend Marie dropping over the day before and lending me her cellphone I was able to learn (in time) that my surgery had been rescheduled!

I was grateful that at least I still had electricity! Power outages are far more common than they should be where I live. So there was a bright side. I could work offline on my latest novel without telemarketers constantly interrupting me. -- No I never answer, but I have to get up and listen to my answering machine in case it's someone I actually want to speak to, or an emergency.

Due to posterior vitreous detachment following cataract surgery I have eye floaters of all varieties: big black ones, small brown ones, and gel ones too, along with light flashes. Working on the computer AFTER DARK has become too much of a strain as is reading.

Thankfully I'd been gifted with a DVD player by my friend Rose when my beloved Starz-Showtime package became too pricey for me. For several years now I've been collecting DVDs for emergencies such as this one.

Since I could count on being without for at least three days I chose the multi-pack selection of horror movies I'd purchased from a church rummage sale. Four movies were on each of the three disks. I'd already seen half of these 1970's flicks and the six remaining were cheesy and lame. I felt my brain rotting. One was so bad that I fast-forwarded thru the entire second half.

I was thrilled when the ATT truck arrived early on the fourth day! -- I had no idea it was fated to be a stressful and long one.

To make a long story short, the tech replaced my ancient modem and got my phone and computer working. However my two TVs kept freezing. The man couldn't understand why and called another tech over. The two tried all types of maneuvers, but to no avail. They gave up and left, but assured me another tech would be arriving.

An hour later, another arrived and was equally mystified!  He made numerous calls to ATT. Eventually he told me not to worry because he had the "Big Dogs" on the line and this problem was going to be solved. The problem was on their end!!! Around 4:00 PM this was fixed. --At LONG last!!!

Once again I had a toe in the 21st century.

SCARFACE

 

I'll admit to being a vain woman! I'm a firm believer in putting your best face out there. I admire and cheer on people who take pride in their appearance. I've even co-authored a healthy lifestyle beauty manual for women on a fixed income.

This is why being informed by a doctor that I'd be left with a facial scar after surgery came as unsettling news! The location on my face (above the upper corner on the right side of my lip & into the crease on my cheek) was a factor. It's where the skin gets stretched regularly.

I am not about to stop eating, talking, smiling, or laughing; although I've been doing a lot less of the latter two. Also I am not going to cut back on brushing or flossing my teeth.

The dermatologist called this "a significant wound". Not only would I have a scar but it would lift the corner of my mouth. I'd look as if I'd had a stroke! He immediately sent me to a plastic surgeon.

The first thing the nurse said when the plastic surgeon entered the room was, "Look at her skin! Can you believe she's actually 70!"

Yes, thanks to decades of sunscreen, broad brim hats, and umbrellas my skin does appear amazingly youthful for a 70 year old! My friend Marie told me, "I can understand why you're so upset; outside of the cancer your skin is perfect!"

Yeah, and I am pissed as hell because for decades I was careful and did everything right!

The plastic surgeon stated that stitches wouldn't do, I required a skin graft. The scar would be relocated to another area of my face.

 I had no idea how deep the wound was until I put my finger into it to apply ointment. This was a shock! It's a bloody pit in my face.

I was instructed to keep it moist. My wound must never be allowed to form a scab, or the scar will be much worse!

The plastic surgeon stated I could wait until it healed for the skin graft. I told him the dermatologist said the exact opposite.

"You're a pretty lady," he replied, "and he didn't want to risk messing up your face, but repairing a scar can be done anytime."

This was welcome news! I had just paid my whopping property taxes and the skin cancer surgery, plus the office visits, biopsy, & pathologist cost were all adding up! Despite my age, I'm ineligible for social security or Medicare. (Long story!) If I ever have a heart attack, stroke, or even a serious bout with cancer I'd better just plan on dying!

During my teens and twenties I had scars on various parts of my body for different reasons. By the time I was 50 barely a trace of them remained. However I no longer have the luxury of time.

But I want to see how the scar actually looks after everything heals. I may just decide to live with it. It will be a year or more before I know for sure. In the meantime, for selfish reasons I hope people will continue to wear masks for a long time to come.

TWO NASTY SURPRISES -- ACTUALLY THREE

 

NO FOUR BUT WHOSE COUNTING

At the beginning of the pandemic, right after the lockdown, I noticed a mystery bump on my face that I thought was a giant pimple. When my go-to remedy of egg white failed to shrink it I tried every over-the-counter product on the market. That only made it angry!

After two years of this I noticed it was growing and had a weird looking uneven border. I knew it was time to consult a dermatologist.

He declared it suspicious and it needed to be biopsied. Surgery might be required. "You're going to have a scar," he told me before cutting into my face for the biopsy.

No woman wants to hear that! Unlike men, our appearance is important to us. And I've always been proud of my firm, youthful skin rare among people my age. Plus this was in a noticeable spot; above the corner of my upper right lip and into the crease of my cheek.

Nervously I awaited the biopsy results. I was sure it would be benign. I'd been wearing sunscreen religiously since I was 25 on the advice of a dermatologist. This one said the problem began in childhood before sunscreen was invented, back when everyone believed the sun was healthy, one of the benefits of being raised in Florida.

I recall when I began wearing sunscreen along with broad brim hats; I'd even open an umbrella if the sun became too bright. And I was often ridiculed for being so cautious! I heard remarks such as: "The sun can't hurt you any! That doctor is crazy! He should lose his license for giving you advice like that!" -- Similar to remarks today about the Covid vaccine!

I was shocked when I received the results, it was cancerous, a basal cell carcinoma and I was going to need surgery! My friends were all shocked as well that it happened to ME who had always been so careful.

But my memory was jogged! At age 15 because my natural blonde hair had darkened I took a bottle of lemon juice along with tanning lotion for my skin and sat out in the sun for hours, I was tired of being that pale girl on the beach who was constantly ridiculed in the TV commercials!

Well the lemon juice didn't lighten my hair and when I showed up for school the following Monday I had a new set of freckles all over my face and body. I wince about that now.

Also I believe my trips to Ecuador, the Galapagos Islands, and Thailand factored in. All are extremely sunny places and I was outdoors sightseeing, often in boats or on top of elephants. A hat only protected the top half of my face and sunscreen wears off. 

Now that surgery was required I'd be left with an even bigger, uglier scar than with the biopsy due to the location. This was an area of the face where the skin gets stretched.

However a scar was still better than the alternative. Thank goodness people were still wearing masks. I'd be needing one more than ever!

My surgery was scheduled for a Wednesday. The Monday before around 8:30 AM I turned on my computer after which I went back into the kitchen to put the breakfast dishes away. From there I heard a boom in my computer room. I soon discovered that I was unable to connect to the internet. And worse; my phone & TV were also out!

I don't own a cellphone. (Yeah I'm THAT person!) So I had to go next door to borrow theirs. ATT wanted to send a repairman over on Wednesday. I informed them I was having surgery then, besides I needed it before that! The doctor's office might need to reach me!

Thursday AM was the best they could do! I was going to be without everything but electricity for 3 miserable days. The last time this happened was well over a decade ago on a 4th of July weekend. My friend Pat (now deceased) who lived in North Florida tried for days to reach me.

Her call came thru while the repairman was here. She told me that had I not picked up, her next call would have been to the police. She feared I'd been murdered!

So now I was soon to undergo surgery and no one would be able to reach me afterward. And all of my friends will think I died!

My friend Marie, unable to contact me came knocking on my door. We sat and had coffee together. I mentioned that the doctor's office might be trying to get in touch with me. She whipped out her cellphone and told me to call them.

Gadzooks! They had been trying to reach me all day! The pathologist was unavailable and my surgery needed to be rescheduled!

Had Marie not come over, I would have gotten up extra early the following morning and driven there only to be sent home!!!

And had I known about this Monday I could have had ATT here and everything would have been restored a day earlier. UGH!!!