Two Went This Time...

We lost two of our hens this week, two days apart.

Helen

Cutie

It was sheer coincidence that they both fell ill at the same time, with two seperate problems. Usually we can dampen or even cure most chicken ailments with our arsenal of preparations, books and online help from friends. This time we knew it was time to take them to the vet, so we did.

It wasn't good news.

Helen had Proventriculitis. It's an inflammation or blockage of the proventriculus (stomach) of a bird. Sometimes you can nail down a cause such as an obvious blockage or a mycotoxin, but usually it's cause is a frustrating mystery; which was true in Helens' case. She got sick and died within two days, and the vet told us surgery was not an option, just to take her home and make her comfortable. He gave us meds to try just in case, he's a softie when it comes to chickens. Helen was the only daughter of Jack, our beloved Barred Rock rooster of many years. She was a very calm girl except at feeding time, when she would YELL. She has a brother, Phoenix, who is currently our Head Rooster.

The other hen was Cutie. Cutie was so named because she habitually would look up at you with a cute little tilt to her head, as in her picture. Cutie contracted a fungal condition known as Favus, which caused her face to start peeling. It was several days before we could nail down what was going on, but both Cutie and Helen were given antibiotics and an antifungal from the vet. Despite our dosing them and handfeeding them every 30 minutes, Helen died on Friday and Cutie died last night. The were hatchmates, we hatched them in 2003.

I love having the chickens, but it is so hard when they die. It's especially worrisome to have two seemingly healthy birds go so quickly, and have to now worry about the others.

Oh NO...They Wouldn't...WOULD They...?!

Short answer: Yes, and most likely the bastards laughed the entire time.

Among my daughters' many stuffed animals is a small purple and white duck, which 'quacks' charmingly when you shake it. Like most toys these days, it hails from Asia. Well, recently it stopped quacking, and small, sorrowful kideyes were begging me to make it quack again. Because, well, I'm Mom, and I can fix anything.

Not wanting to nuke my reputation right out of the water, I agreed to perform stuffed duck surgery and see if I couldn't fix the quacker. I attacked a seam across it's back with a seam ripper and managed to work the noisemaker out of the thing.

The noisemaker looked for all the world like a black 35mm film can. I popped the top off and found quacker innards within. I dumped it out and found the problem immediately: The rubber casing of the thing was disintegrating. Inside the rubber case was a spring and a mysterious contraption made of a moving weight and a bit of colorful metal. The colorful metal looked to be aluminum recycled from an Asian soda can, amusingly enough.

As I explore the thing I determine that the noisemaker proper is working flawlessly, the sole problem is the rotting rubber sleeve. As I more closely inspect the sleeve to see if a replacement for it might be cobbled together somehow, I realize something.

The rubber sleeve is, indeed, A RUBBER.

They had the balls to name this line of toys "Playful Plush", too. More factory-wide sniggering over that one, I'm sure.

As soon as it dawns on me what the creepy, slimey, rotting thing I'm holding in my hands is, I drop it like a hot rock, accompanied by a string of choice four-letter words, uttered in a loud, disbelieving tone of voice. So loud that my husband emerges from the kitchen to see what prompted THAT aggrieved outburst.

I point in revulsion to the toy's parts. "Look at that!" I watch his face closely for his reaction.

Sadly for him, he doesn't realize what it is at first, either, and picks it up. After a moment, HE now knows what it is, too, and practically launches the thing into orbit in his haste to get it out of his hands. "Jesus!" He shoots me an incredulous, disgusted look.

"I know!" I say, before he can say anything else. "And this damned Toy From Hell won't work unless I replace it!"

Who WOULDN'T want to touch this?

He merely returns to the kitchen, laughing because it isn't HIM that has to fit a new condom in a toy duck. He does, however, volunteer to go to the store and get the needed condoms.

Now I know why this damned toy has such a look of Pure Evil on it's face, along with a creepy grin.

OK, I draw a deep breath, Mom Up and do the deed. Old condom removed, new one (lubricated, just like the old one) placed and *of course* it needs adjusting before the quacker works again. Husband makes requisite snarky remarks as to how the things never fit, now I know how guys feel, etc.

New, uh...'apparatus' in place

So for now Evil Condom Duck quacks again. Until THIS condom wears out...

Bleah...

OK yesterday was a fluke. Back to feeling really crappy again and getting worse. Back to the doctor again tomorrow I guess. Oh God, PLEASE let me keep out of the hospital...I don't have time for that BS...

Today brings another new medicine: a PINT (that's 480 doses, zowee!) of Prometh w/Codiene 10 mg. cough syrup. The bottle is ridiculously large and must weigh in at around several pounds. When J. brought it home, he gave it to me with, "Here's your fifth of cough medicine!"

Please tell me the doctor does NOT expect me to drink that whole damned thing...

Today sister J. came and whisked little N. away for the day so J. and I could get some rest...he REALLY needs it, he's been pulling solo parent duty, working full time+ and caring for me for the last week and a half. He's tired. His family has been wonderfully supportive and right there. Great folks. :)

Side note: I see the side of the Predisone package carries a warning: "This medicine may lower your ability to fight off infections. Avoid people who have contagious diseases."

Wait--that's me. Tell me again how to avoid myself...?

Fun With Pneumonia

Here are the fruits of my stupidity, what I get to eat for my meals these days till further notice:

Robitussin AC (with Codiene) Cough syrup, 2 teaspoonfuls every 4 hours.
Levaquin antibiotic 500 mg. tablets, 1 a day.
Amox TR-K CL antibiotic 875 mg. twice per day.
Methylprednisolone (Prednisone) 4 mg. tablets, 6 per day.
Albuterol 90 mcg. inhaler, two puffs every 8 hours.
Azmacort 100 mcg. inhaler, 4 puffs twice daily.

Most of this stuff is screamingly expensive (nearly $500.00), frighteningly strong and tastes like death. The inhalers flavor your every breath and swallow for hours, and dry your throat out so you COUGH MORE! I had to make myself a schedule, I was spending so much time taking medicine.

Backstory:
OK, so on Memorial Day weekend, I come down with a VERY nasty fever and a very slight, almost unnoticeable bit of congestion in my lungs. I figure I'm getting a cold and start with the OTC decongestant/supressant/expectorant cough syrup and Tylenol. After 5 days of 102 to 104 degree fever, which cheerfully shows no signs of being in ANY way affected by the Tylenol, the lung gunkies take a turn for the worse and become the worst tasting stuff I've ever experienced.

Now, this is saying a LOT.

It's foul. I can't even describe it properly--it was mostly bitter, with some salty-sickly-sweet-death taste mixed in, and it was STRONG. I knew that this was BAD, so I started myself on some Penicillin I had. I figured it was a chest cold gone awry, and spent most of my time trying to sleep/cough till I pulled muscles/sweat/freeze from chills.

No dice. The fever cleared after about 7 days, the lung gunk remained, evil as ever. OK, continue with cough syrup, slack off a bit on the Penicillin.

Until last weekend, when the fever creeps back and I start to feel really, dangerously ill. The kind where you want to turn to your spouse and say, "OK, call 911..." On Wednesday I give up and go see the doctor, resigned to having my ass chewed out for trying to self-medicate and avoid his office (he did, and I deserved it). Almost three hours later I'd had a chest x-ray (his reaction was, and I quote, an eye-popping "GOD--!"), a diagnosis of Viral Pneumonia (which I'd kinda figured out) provided him the sample of lung cookies he wanted, had a nebuliser breathing treatment, a HUGE shot of Roecefin (killer antiobiotic) to the hip and got the bad news that my blood O2 (oxygen) levels were only one point away from 'hospital time'. He gave me FIVE prescriptions to fill and told me to come back the next day for another breathing treatment and another shot of Roecefin, which I did. He also added another antibiotic to the pile of medications I was taking for a grand total of 6.

That night was scary as I got REALLY ill, and I realize that had I waited just one more day, or even a few more hours, hospitalization would have been the only option. It hurt to breathe, I COULDN'T breathe, I was coughing insanely and the high fever made a spectacular comeback. The next day I managed to drag myself back to his office for more of the same. My blood O2 levels had not changed and he stared at me long and hard, obviously trying to decide if he was gong to stick me in the hospital. The only thing that saved me was the fact that I felt a *tiny* bit better. OK, he says. If you don't feel *BETTER* by tomorrow, come in again for another breathing treatment and shot. OK.

So progress was made finally today, Saturday--I'm out of bed for the first time in more than a week, although I am 23 pounds lighter, still have no appetite and cannot eat, which to my surprise isn't bothering me in the least. I figure it's the negative side effect I'm getting from having to have three different kinds of high-powered antibiotics in me. Antibiotics kill off ALL the bacteria in your gut, the good AND the bad.

Which just makes for one more medication to be added to the routine: Imodium.

Life is a joy. Hopefully in another few days I'll be able to walk across the room without having to stop and rest and get my wind back.

In conclusion, DON'T BE ME. I'm an idiot. The nurse says this crap is making the rounds, and it's damned sneaky and nasty, starts out just like mine. If you start to feel ill, get to the doctor right away...

*bleah*

Thrift Storing!

One of our favorite things to do is go thrift storing. Much like yard saleing, only less catch-as-catch-can, especially if you are after a particular item.

Today we went in search of a few things--a cheap wedding gown and dress form/mannequin for our Halloween yard display and bits of technology or mechanical devices for N. to take apart. She has recently developed a fascination for digging into the innards of machines, and if we don't provide her harmless subjects for dissection, she's apt to find her own lying around the house. When we advised her against this, she confidently declared, in her little, piping 6 year old voice, "That's OK, I can put them back together and fix them!" Oh, dear.

Unfortunately and a bit surprisingly, today's trip didn't yield any victims. The stuff we found was mostly irons, phones--boring, one-step, take-the-back-off-and-your-done stuff like that. We were hoping to find something more mechanical with more interesting bits, like an old clock. We did see one groovy '70's clock, but it was priced well above today's budget.

But--! As J. was digging through the used cameras he came across no less than 4 of them that still had film in them. He was able to get the film out of two of them, we plan on taking it in to get developed out of curiosity, then submit anything worthwile to found.com. He seems to think we'll find something creepy, I think it'll be more along the lines of grandma's 80th birthday party or something.

We also found a cool toy remote control cobra, minus the remote but we think we can find one. If not he'll be a toy as-is, or fodder for the child and her screwdriver. Another cool find was a Revere Ware copper bottomed saucepan in great condition and a 1960's toy with Peter Max-type graphics involving little spring loaded birds that ring metal bells tuned to the musical scale. We also picked up one of those inflatable mylar Hoverdisc toys for $1.99, them promptly took it home and filled it with the last of the helium from last year's birthday party. We had to take it to the park to play with it properly, as it flew WILDY about with the slightest toss and floated quite well. :) As we were leaving the park and driving down the street, we had to stop and rescue a tiny, fuzzy headed starling nestling that was waddling across the road. WAY too early to be out of the nest and no parents around as nightime came on, so he's now residing in a birdcage in the kitchen. He's our third baby bird rescue so far this year, the other two (a sparrow and another starling) being released as soon as they were big enough to manage on their own. We get these every year...

Still, the wedding dresses were priced too high for thrift store aged, stained and torn gowns...they are having a 50% off sale on Memorial Day so I plan on picking one up then. Also, our town is having it's annual city-wide yard sale this weekend, so we can tool around tomorrow and check for wedding dresses and fodder for N.'s curiosity.

I'm dying to see what's on that film, though... :)

Hoot!

We went and saw the new movie "Hoot" over the weekend. For anyone who doesn't already know, the book was written by Carl Hiassen, whose writing I really love. He is a faithful supporter of the Florida Everglades and it's flora and fauna, has written many fictional novels and also is a columnist for The Miami Herald. His stuff is always fun, clever, thoughtful and quirky. He always tosses in characters and situations that will just about have you in tears from laughing. Once you read one of his books, you'll want to read them all. My favorite is "Native Tongue", about what happens when a couple of thieves break into a wildlife amusement park and steal a pair of rare blue-tongued voles. The park then has to decide what to do, especialy since they DON'T want it to be known that the rare animals are a fraud, and all about the problems of dying rodent tongues blue. Freakin' hilarious.

This movie/book 'Hoot' though, is about some kids that discover that a national pancake house chain plans on building a new restaurant on land that someone is already living and raising youngsters on...burrowing owls. Anyone who has ever pulled up a survey stake or two in their time or otherwise considers themselves an ecowarrior, has a fondness for George Hayduke, is a rebel or likes to see the good guys win should see it, and read the book. It is also VERY beautifully filmed, set in Florida. No surprise ending, you can see it coming a mile off, but it's just a good film. We took our 6 year old to see it, and it was such a pleasure to see a movie that didn't insult anyone's intelligence and did not involve bathroom humor or characters simply hitting each other in the misbegotten notion that that is what kids today find 'funny'.

Very glad they made this book into a movie, although it wasn't the first. Hope many more follow. :)

I Dooooooo......

To our surprise, the Attic in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland has undergone some changes.

'The Bride' was always a fixture there, with her glowing red eyes and beating heart. For years I couldn't understand the low moan that was clearly saying something...until I realized it was The Groom saying, "I doooo.....". I always loved The Bride and plan on adding one just like her to my Halloween yard display this year, with a thrift store wedding gown, beating heart sound effects and some red lights.

New to the Mansion attic are portraits of The Bride with her husbands (she's had several, ya know, just has some kind of bad luck with her men and that pesky ax), in which the mens' heads disappear from the portrait. The NEW bride has relocated across from where she used to stand and is now a projection with cool effects rather than a mannequin in costume.

I wonder what they did with the old one...? I think the old one was MUCH creepier....