Ice Cream

Back in the 80's, when my youngest brother (Davy) was a kid, and I was an obnoxious teen, we took great delight in the ice cream truck that rolled through our neighborhood several times during the summer months.  Back then the ice cream truck was a regular thing, and kids today have no idea what they are missing!

So let me take you back to a typical summer evening at the Meys house.  We'll say that it is six o'clock on a Tuesday night, and that means we had chicken.  No, I'm not kidding. Dinner was served promptly (and do I mean promptly) at 5:30, so we would be cleaning up.  Mom would be making Dad's lunch, and rejoicing that she only had one to pack, instead of five.  One of us would be washing the dishes, one drying the dishes, and the other one would have set the table earlier, and would now be sweeping.  Davy wouldn't be in the rotation yet, but soon.  Dad would be outside tending his roses, or watering the gardens.  (Wow did that make me nostalgic.)  Although that time of day was the bane of my existence back then.  Damn dishes.

All would be running like clockwork (unless some children weren't getting along) until Davy or I would hear the faint jingle of the ice cream truck's song.  When this occurred, whoever heard it first was then required to scream ICE CREAM at the top of their lungs!  Most often we heard it at the same time, and from separate corners of the house would scream it, scaring the hell out of my Mom. "What is WRONG with you Joanmarie?"  Notice who got blamed.  However, she had mellowed out by then, so at least I didn't get smacked, or grounded. :)

Then the four of us would run around like mad fiends looking/begging for enough change to at least get a Popsicle.  I have never been a huge ice cream fan, it was just the whole experience.  If it happened on a Saturday night we always got something for Grandma Lenihan too.  She stayed over with us on the weekends. I can hear her "For John sake!" in my head, as she would laugh at our antics.  Then the barefoot race out the door to the truck, where all the neighborhood kids would be gathered.  We would buy our treasures and head back to the front steps to eat them, with someone nagging at us to get a move on and finish our chores.  If it was hot out we would probably get a soak with the hose, from Dad, as he traveled around the yard.

Fast forward to this past Tuesday.  I had just put color in my hair and sat down to watch TV while it marinated.  Oh, and I had some pj's on., tank top and shorts pj's.  It was a warm evening (finally) and the windows were open.  All of the sudden my bat ears detect a faint sound.  Aloud, from some Pavlovian response no doubt, I involuntarily blurted out "ice cream".  What?  Then I listened harder.  Could it be?

Here is the conversation in my head:

Change!  I need change!

Duh, you just put color in your hair.

Ah who cares.  Where's the laundry money??

Dude, you have Jammie's on and a tank top with no bra!

Hmmmm...... I can't put anything on over this damn hair.  But still......

Hello?!  Lactose intollerous. (as the goovers say)

Damn, I hate you.

It was, in fact, a bright shiny  Ice Cream Truck!  The next day I saw them on facebook and it said they would be in Superior every Tuesday.  I will be ready for them next time!  I can't wait to see what it costs these days.  That might just spin another blog, and yes, the pain of eating it will be worth an ice cream sandwich straight from the truck!

The Name Song

Yesterday I saw an idea on facebook or pinterest where you use number beads to put your phone number on a bracelet, in case your child gets lost.  You know, if your kid doesn't lose the bracelet.......

It reminded me of the song my mother taught the three of us as kids.  In the event we were lost we had only to recite this little ditty to a policeman, and all would be well.  Yes, I said policeman.  It was the seventies.  Anyway, years later my sister and I were discussing how funny it would have been if one of us had walked up to a police officer and started to sing. 

In truth, if the three of us were lost together (or separately) this is what would have happened.  My sister would be bawling, my brother would have clammed up and not said a word, and I would have hummed the first note and sang my heart out. :)  (This is a before David thing, although I'm pretty sure we taught him too.  He would have just hid somewhere.)

If I had the capability to upload a video I would absolutely sing it for you.  It goes like this. (p.s. I don't live there anymore, and that isn't my phone number.)

♫ My name is Joanie Meys, I live in Alloueze.  4218 East 3rd Street, Superior Wisconsin.  My phone number is 398-6832, my Daddy's name is Ed. ♫ 

The one and only time I did get lost it was in the grocery store.  Oddly, my Mother had just explained to me that if I were to get separated from her in a store I should go up to an employee and they would call her over the loud speaker.  I do not remember this incident, but she always claimed that I (at three or so) did it on purpose to hear my name over the speaker.....

I couldn't really say if that was the case, but it sounds about right.   *whistling*

Angels

Angels come in many forms.  In this case they came in the form of two public servants, Rep. Nick Milroy and his wonderful assistant Mary Lou Keleher.

I have a list of blogs to write, but here we are at CeCe again.  She's doing well with her recovery from hip surgery, but something else has been going on in the wings for more than a month.  Let me tell you about it.

Hanging out at Essentia

Where to begin?  When you adopt a special needs child from the State of Wisconsin, they kindly allow (Thank God) you to keep that child on the state's medical insurance.  Kate and Tom never have to worry about paying for Cierra's medical care.  She has an amazing team of doctors in Duluth, and some specialists in the Twin Cities.  Most of these Doc's have been with CeCe for years, and they all know the ins and outs of handling her unique issues.  Plus, having been in pediatric intensive care for five weeks at Essentia in Duluth, all the nurses and other staff know her well.  It was like old home week when they spent several days in the children's wing  after CeCe's hip surgery.

Cierra is slated to have three surgeries this summer, adenoids out, tubes replaced in ears, and that hormone thingy in her arm (yes, I get very technical) needs to be replaced.  These are three outpatient surgeries, but because of her lung issues "the team" felt it would be better to co-ordinate, put her out one time, and get all three done.  She would then go right to the picu to recoup and if all went well then be released to home.  That way, should something go wrong everyone would be ready.

Last summer, Cierra's insurance would not allow the arm thingy replacement to be done in Duluth.  They insisted it had to be done in Wisconsin.  Why?  Because they said so.  Kate and Tom dragged her down to Eau Claire (or Chippewa, I can't remember) and she had the procedure.  However, the anesthesiologist, who did not know her from Adam, gave her to much sleepy meds (for CeCe) and she would not wake up after surgery.  It took most of the day, and my sister was ready to hire her own helicopter and fly back to Essentia and the team of Doc's who know Cierra. 

So "the team" was all set and ready to go with the triple procedure, they were just waiting for an o.k. from CeCe's pulmonologist to do it, and the insurance company said no.  The adenoids and tubes could be done in Duluth, but the arm thingy had to be done in Wisconsin.  Why?  Because they said so.  My sister tried to speak to them, and they wouldn't even talk to her.  Her doctor's appealed and the insurance company couldn't have cared less. 

I mentioned that maybe Tom (who likes to do this sort of thing) should write to our legislators.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained, but he didn't. 

A team was being assembled in Wisconsin, and finally it looked as if CeCe would be headed to Marshfield , which is in the Steven's Point area, sometime in August.  I'm sure they are fine doctors, but if you know Cierra, even through my blog or facebook posts, you would understand that anyone caring for her needs to KNOW her.  Doctors who don't, tend to assume things and treat her as a child who is developmentally seven.  That's where the trouble starts, and has been quite serious a few times.

This whole situation has been very stressful on CeCe's folks.  After the events this winter, the thought of  taking her away from the team who knows her, and trust her with strangers, had to have been terrifying, and having the insurance company discount everyone, just because they could, was frustrating.  After listening to my sister vent about it, again, I mentioned for a third or fourth time that her husband, who likes to write letters when things aren't kosher, should give it a try and see if someone could help.  At the very least they might be able to get him in touch with someone who could assist, and the worst anyone could say was sorry, we can't help, leaving you no worse off than you already are.

Finally, Tom wrote to Rep. Nick Milroy's office, and by the end of that day he had a phone call from them, and people were working on it.  In less than a week the situation was resolved. 

My sister allowed me to publicly thank Mr. Milroy on facebook, which I did, and he graciously gave credit to his assistant and the other state workers who helped.  You're a good man Nick, and you have my vote as long as you are running for anything, ever.  To his assistant, Mary Lou, who I also then was able to thank in public, I again say thank you.  Thanks also to the nameless people who also worked to fix this issue.  Sometimes the things we do in our job our thankless, but we do them anyway.  I'm glad this time they are able to know that they made a difference!
 

Fractured Fern

On Tuesday I got to see CeCe in her school play.  She was a fern, although of course she wouldn't wear the costume.  It was really cute though, and she did do a little dance move once when her group was singing.

Cierra started limping on Monday, and by Wed was at her orthopedist's office.  She doesn't process pain the way you or I do, and she also can't tell anyone where it hurts, so the hunt was on.  All x-rays and blood work came back normal, but obviously something was wrong, by Thursday she would barely walk, and even after the radiologist looked at the x-rays, nothing was showing up.

Cierra's ortho did some more testing with her legs, and decided from the stiffness to take an MRI of her right hip, and voila, there it was, a stress fracture.  So, very shortly Cierra will be having two screws put into that hip, and hopefully they will be able to avoid her growth plate.  Then she will be in a cast from hip to toe on the right side for the next three weeks.

There's no way to tell how this happened, she had no falls at home, and nothing documented at school.  She always plops straight down hard if she doesn't want to do something, so the doc is now doing bone density testing, amongst other things to see if this is a new issue that could crop up again. 

Look at this fancy new bed that she hospital has gotten since her last stay!  There is no way out, so if Cierra had slept at all last night, my sister would have gotten some sleep. :)  I think they should name the bed after Cierra, because I'm certain she is the reason they procured it.........  Also note the way she is sitting.  In politically correct terms we refer to that as "pretzel legs".  How do you do that with a hip fracture??  See what I mean about processing pain?

What a way to start the first day of summer vacation. 

Rain Rain Go Away

I actually love the rain. I love listening to it, and listening to a storm roll in.  However!

It is June first,  JUNE FIRST, and the buds are barely out on the trees.  Since winter lasted until May you would expect us to be a little behind, but this is ridiculous!  It's a rare day when the sun shines, and the temps right here by the big lake have nudged up into the seventies once, but by the time I got out of work the wind shifted, temps dropped fifteen degrees in an hour, and I missed it. Our norm right now seems to be 48 degrees.  BAH!  I want to plant flowers, I want to sit outside, I want to use my new grill!

In the last few years I have noticed that I get a little bearish in the mid winter months.  It's just to dark and cold and I want to hibernate.  This winter it was much worse, and honestly, I can't shake it.  My soul is yearning for the sun.  My mind keeps saying "I will feel better if the sun comes out.", and I do, when it does. 

When I headed out to the grocery store earlier today it was cold and dreary, but we were high and dry.  A drop of rain hit my cheek as I walked into the store, and when  emerged ten minutes later it had turned into a downpour.  I was soaked by the time I reached  the car, got the groceries in, and the cart put into it's holder.  My next errand was to get gas, but I drove home instead. 

I parked the car, shut it off, and then paused a moment when I heard the rain pinging on the roof.  It seemed like a long time since I had heard that sound.  I guess when I'm driving and the radio is on I don't pay any attention to it.  So I sat there listening, and was immediately transported back in time to the 1970's.  Laying in the Volare wagon in the way back with my brother, looking at the brown ceiling with all the dots, and listening to the rain hitting the roof as we drove on errands with my Mom.  Good times, good memories.  So I just sat in the car for awhile, listening.  I watched the rain slide down the windows, and contemplated the way it distorted everything I was looking at.  I wondered slightly if I was, in fact, losing my mind.

I'm fairly certain that's what my Aunt thought when her phone call shook me out of me reverie.  She wanted to place an AVON order, and I said.  "Well, I"m sitting in the car, listening to the rain, but I believe I have a paper and pen."  The "Ok, honey......" that I got in return was my clue.  I tried to reassure her with "It's o.k. it started to downpour and I thought I would wait it out." but I'm not thinking she bought it.

In the bigger scheme of things, I do realize that folks have much worse weather to contend with. I remember the people in Oklahoma in my prayers, which is about all I can do. I can't help thinking back to the flood of last June, and wonder if we are on the same slippery slope this year.  I sure hope not!

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain♫  I guess instead of planting flowers I'm going to dive into a new book.  Instead of grilling I will eat pizza, and if I get really bored there's laundry, or I could *gulp* clean.  Don't worry, I'm sure Words With Friends will distract me from that!  :)