I had an agenda for today. I wanted to go to TJ Maxx and look for a new blouse or sweater to wear to some holiday parties (I have four to attend this year, maybe five, and haven’t had anything new in a long time. I’m due for something red and sparkly). I also wanted to see if I couldn’t find Lindsey something for her birthday that’s coming up Sunday. She always compliments me on my tops, so I felt certain I could find something she would like. All I would have to do is find something I liked, and buy it in her wispy size. Additionally, I wanted to maybe run in Ulta for some makeup, and wheel into Publix for a sandwich. I’m aware that’s a lot to accomplish in an hour on a Friday in Sevier County, but sometimes miracles happen. I thought if I left at 11 my chances would be much improved. I didn’t eat but one scrambled egg on a piece of toast for breakfast, so I figured if I did my shopping first, then brought the sandwich here to eat after, I had laid out the perfect day. I am ever the optimist.

Well, that’s not what happened.

A producer I went to college with showed up and all bets were off, as he stayed from 9:30 till after one. It’s my fault, too; I was contributing to conversation, but he also knows how I love my food. Like, we had discussed my plan for Publix at length. And I shared the story of the Xerox guy and his middle-of-the-day-three-hour-service-call. Sometimes when I have my day planned out and then something disturbs it and puts me off my agenda, I become upset. Today would have been one of those days, but I kept reminding myself I was needed more in this conversation than I was elsewhere, and so I settled my nerves as well as I could.

Never go to TJ Maxx hungry. I knew better but I still did it. People are unbelievable. I was following an elderly lady in the front doors, and she was a bit feeble, just shuffling along. There was a foreign woman behind me and she got all huffy and strutted around us, nearly knocking the old woman down in her haste to beat us through the doors. I just shook my head. I noted the line to check out and knew this was not going to be a quick trip.
Every time I tried to look at any clothes people crowded in on me, so I headed back to the Christmas decor. I found a magnolia wreath I really liked. It had beading along the edges of the petals to give it a frosted look. But it was $40 and I just didn’t have it in my heart to spend that today. I was wanting to look at holiday dish towels, and I eventually located them along the back wall. This woman had the end of the aisle blocked with her buggy while she looked at something on the endcap. I knew she wouldn’t be there forever so I was waiting her out instead of asking her to kindly move her shit. I was just standing there, pointedly looking at the dish towels on the wall behind her. Do you know that hussy looked me straight in the eyeball and pulled into the aisle where I stood and blocked it completely and went to looking at whatever was on my left??! I went, “Un friggin’ BELIEVABLE,” flipped my hair, rolled my eyes, and pivoted off my heel. The place was crawling with rude, oblivious people. It was the same wherever I turned. I couldn’t get out fast enough.
And no, I didn’t find Lindsey anything, nor me a sparkly top. And I abandoned the hunt for dish towels.
But!! I did run into Sherri Hedrick and her sweet daughter Meghan…who asked me where my husband was 🤣🤣 Meghan is my age, but is special needs. She has never forgotten the time she met Johnny at the Co-op. He always did make quite the impression on the ladies 😏. I resisted the urge to laugh and tell her when she met me a new one, to please make haste in sending him my way.

I have a friend I’m quite worried about. She hasn’t been feeling exactly right for coming up on a year. Luckily, she was persistent in getting answers and forced her doctor to order several tests. The doctors were convinced it was her heart, due to her fatigue and persistent cough. They’d performed several tests and couldn’t detect anything amiss. The last resort was a heart catch. So she scheduled it, knowing something was wrong and wanting to get to the bottom of it. While she was having the heart cath done, she had a mini stroke. So she’s been dealing with that, having physical therapy and trying to adjust to a new normal. But she had a follow up bone marrow biopsy, because the cath didn’t show any abnormalities. The bone marrow test showed she has a rare blood cancer that’s hard to detect and symptoms take a long time to surface. When they do, the primary one is fatigue. So that all tracks. The only thing her doctor advised her to do for the time being was to add a baby aspirin a day to her other medications. That was six weeks ago. She had an appointment today to get the treatment plan. Turns out, her doctor was out today, so she saw the fill in doctor. He took her off one or two of her medicines and cut one back and told her she had stage IV kidney failure and to come back in six weeks.
I about flipped my lid. She said she went to the ER last night because she couldn’t get her breath and they gave her a steroid shot and she thinks that bumped her numbers up to normal range on stuff and that they’re not accurate. She said she told the doctor that, but he didn’t want to do any kind of treatment plan. She kept talking about Stat numbers being high, and I asked what that was, and she didn’t know, but he was real good at explaining stuff. Clearly not. I listened patiently as she sang his praises about how thorough he was but every time I asked a question about levels, and what was normal, she couldn’t answer it and told me I’d have to Google it. In my head I’m thinking, “Okay, but I’m not the one who’s sick. And also, you just said he described all this so well you actually understand.” But I held my tongue. Eventually, as she wound down, and ended with saying she just wants to be well and no longer tired, but has to be resigned to six more weeks. I gently suggested she might want to consider getting a second opinion. From an institute with a better reputation in dealing with this kind of cancer, like Vanderbilt. She shrugged it off with a “yeah” and right into the next thing. And then back to being tired of being tired and having to wait, so I decided to be a little more stern. “NO. This is unacceptable. You need to call Vanderbilt.” She starts saying she might call her brother and get his thoughts (I reckon he had cancer several years ago so obviously that makes him an authority). I’m wondering if she’d be a candidate for proton therapy, or stem cell therapy. I don’t know how all those work, I don’t have a doctorate, but I’d be finding someone who did. I think it’s an insurance racket and some doctors are content to let you get sicker as they pad their pockets. In the meantime, I’ve pulled up their phone number at Vandy with about two dozen blood specialists listed on the website and told her again to call them.
I decided to share with her Kay’s story of when she got skin cancer. She’s told me several times over the years, “After I got the diagnosis, I knew I wasn’t messing around with those yahoos in Knoxville, I went straight to Vanderbilt.” She remembers being in surgery: she had a big place on her calf (all that you could see was a spot the size of a pencil eraser, though) and a place under each breast that had to be cut out. She said she remembers laying there on the table and asked the surgeon if he was at least halfway and he said, “Honey, we’re almost DONE.” She was so relieved and happy and shocked she started crying. He looked at her over his magnifying LED spectacles and said, “That’s how we do things here. Welcome to Vanderbilt.” 😎
HELLLLLLL YEAH.
Kay has been cancer free ever since (she always says, “it could come back tomorrow, but that was 12 years ago, so I’m happy”). By the time I got to the end of the telling, tears stood in my eyes and I had a knot in my throat. I love Kay so much, and I’m so glad we’ve become closer in the last six years. I’ve leaned on her through thick and thin, through martinis and mudslides.
My friend finally said she didn’t know anything about getting around Nashville. I was floored, and said that’s what GPS is for. And for that matter, drive as close as you feel comfortable, and call an Uber. Heck, I’d take her if she’d just make the appointment. Some people are just limited. They lack the education and experience to know there is something better. To understand that the lack of concern or subpar approach is inexcusable. I feel like we have to advocate for our own health. I’m afraid she’s going to let this drag out until she doesn’t have the strength to demand a more aggressive treatment. She’s already sleeping over 16 hours a day on weekends. I am very concerned. But I can’t make anybody do anything, and it’s so frustrating.

I was lamenting all this to Kay later this evening and she sighed knowingly. “I think God will put a bunch of hardships on you to force an action.” She can be very wise, to be such a flake 🤣🤣🤣 She’s dealing with her own issues at her job right now, and is well versed with rolling with the punches. We’ve both been turned on our heads more than once and had to scramble to stay afloat. We’ve never been afforded the luxury of a breakdown. We’ve both paved our own roads with the gravel dumped in a haphazard mess at the foot of the hill. And no husbands or sons or brothers or daddies to help us. Just us and our wits.
“I agree with that. He will definitely make you uncomfortable to get you to do something different.” I for one know when my skin isn’t fitting. I know what I’ll put up with, and for how long. News flash: not much, and not for long. Although I do sometimes surprise myself drawing patience from reserves I wasn’t aware I possessed.

I got another anonymous phone call this afternoon at work. Some kind of rock music was playing in the background. I couldn’t hear it well enough to place the song, or even the artist, so if it was supposed to be a message, please hold the phone closer to the speaker next time. Also, if you were trying to make it appear to be a pocket dial, it would be very coincidental to hit the only extension that goes anywhere. Kind of like your friend that called a while back that tried to appear flustered and said she’d hit the wrong extension. (And then called right back).
I’m the only extension.
I don’t understand the point. I mean, if you’ve got something to say, say it. Maybe you need a blog, too!! I’m speaking from experience when I say it can be very therapeutic. But casing me isn’t helping anything. And yes, I see you driving by. It’s a free country, you’re free to drive wherever you want. I don’t recommend backing out of my aunt’s driveway, though, go ahead and come to the top and make a loop next time. You about got run over that day I was sitting on my porch, watching you watching me. And I couldn’t have even come to your aid; that was when I’d hurt my leg and was still getting around on crutches.
I don’t blame you for being curious. But eventually it’s time to move on. There’s a whole world of true happiness out there, it’s yours for the taking. I can’t understand staying in place because you’re scared. Scared of what, exactly??? I’d be more scared, laying on my deathbed and realizing I never did anything I really wanted to. Knowing I’d stayed where I wasn’t loved for the sake of saving face. Luckily, that won’t be my problem. I’ve made some really terrible choices in this life, but I’ve made some good ones, too. I’ve got things to answer for, and so do you. Better make the most of this life while you’re still here to live it. And you better live for yourself. It may sound selfish, but I guarantee once you start being happy in your own life, the people surrounding you will be happier, too. You know, like those kids and grandkids that you think are your legacy. Give them something to remember, something to be proud of. My grandmother was a strong woman who instilled the value of hard work and not needing a man’s love. She enjoyed men, or that’s the rumor, she was done with them by the time I came along. But she would go dancing in her sparkly gold shoes, and she stood her ground when her philandering, spendthrift ex husband came calling one day. She pointed her pistol at his drunken figure and ordered him off the property. He scoffed and said it wasn’t loaded and she shot the dirt from beneath his feet.
He skedaddled back into his Pontiac and the last she ever saw of him was skid marks.
I drew on mine once, too, but didn’t have to fire it. He knew I didn’t bluff.

Love from Appalachia,
~Amy