Cut @ MindSay 
hair
Causes of Leg Cellulitis
MRSA infection is caused by Staphylococcus aureus bacteria — often called "staph." MRSA stands for methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. It's a strain of staph that's resistant to the broad-spectrum antibiotics commonly used to treat it. MRSA can be fatal.
ANYway, she had a boil with the diagnosis of cellulitis. The Doctor had to numb her then slice open the infection to drain out..Needless to say, it was painful for her. We decided to go to the ER when she said after supper that her whole leg was going numb and hurt really bad. My RN cousin in Mississippi said to take her too. Glad we did! She is doing better, went on to school and such. Just have to watch for more redness or swelling or draining.
On the other side now, James' Mom got her cast off two weeks ago Wednesday now. She walked with a walker and a cane for awhile but is doing good. After our Labor Day cookout, My sister-in-law went home. Joy took her back to the doctor last Thursday, got her home and she passed out again but was sitting. She is still doing this. All the tests she had in the hospital came back okay, we do not know what is causing this. James told her that they decided she should not drive at all now. What if she couldn't pull over in time,etc?. Not good.She agreed to that. There are enough of us around to drive her wherever she needs to go. My work schedule is pretty well set, so Thursday mornings I can carry her anywhere. I have to be at work by 12:30 on Thursdays.On her next appointment she will discuss with her doctor some options to see what is going on. It worries us. That's why she had the cast on. She passed out and fell while shopping with my niece, fractured her foot and chipped the bone in her other foot. That's why Joy had been staying with her since July 12th.
I try to make him realise that there are other, more human things to consider. He has to wonder why I am struggling at some point.
It was impulsive, shallow (no blood), but a little dangerously positioned, the only intention was to express how frustrated he was making me feel.
It didn't sink in, all I got was anger. He wouldn't blame himself.
I wanted to run out, but I stayed calm.
I haven't gotten through to him yet, the day it does, the memories will cascade painfully for him, but it's the only way, and better asap. No doubt he will blame me for feeling sad in reaction to how he treated me, and no doubt he will blame me for not making him realise sooner, that is unless he realised how suppressed I felt, which I've tried to say, but still, it doesn't sink in.
As long as I stay standing, as long as I will it, as long as I have determination, I have not lost. I face a lot of opposition in him but don't be daunted, hopefully we're winning slowly, (I even won over armani and candy) - so by no means am I failing, I just have a lot to do.
I haven't cut since about June 20th of this year. It's only been a month...it's kind of wierd to think about. I remember when I quit for two years! Then I did it in October, then I stopped for theatre, and I did it again before prom this year.
Even though I've been feeling better generally, I still want to. I know I'm a bit better, but Andy will always remain someplace in my mind. I will always love him in some way. I will never forget what he meant to me. I can't pretend to not miss the amazing friendship we had.
And everyone I've lost, I won't forget them either. They have changed and so have I. They may not want me in their lives anymore, and it may hurt, but I am still here.
I have also realized:
Only history is permanent.
Dixie currently feels:
Alone
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Blog Poem #1
I'm hiding my emotions from everyone,
I hide behind my fonts and smileys and fun.
The red arial, size twelve. Hides all,
Except the days when I sob, cry and bawl.
Those days are the days when I let everything flow,
I post photos of cuts and leave it all on show.
I'm shit at writing poetry, but everyone says I'm not,
I'm so bad I have to use rhyming dictionaries, a lot.
But poems just sound so wrong when they don't,
A rhyme on the end of each line, or flow it just won't.
I was just laid in bed, holding her under my chin,
She still has your scent, but its vigor is thin.
I hold her too close, my smell is now overpowering her,
But I don't think I can let go, I need to keep a hold of her soft brown fur.
My structure of syllables and prose is just fucked,
Try as I might, my talent's just cooked.
It'll never be whatever it once was,
I've turned it all against myself, because...
I don't even know the reason myself,
I took too much time over your shelf.
If it falls down then we'll all get a pain,
Right in the skull where it'll fall to blame.
Blame the one who didn't tighten the rivets enough,
A defective spanner, she didn't tug it so rough.
Poetry is the worst form of expression in the world.
I don't think I'll try this again... My frustration is heard.
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