Thursday, April 28, 2016


Tonight's blog concerns itself with the pain of it all, but I don't want to dwell on that.  So, this one's a short one.  Let's hope the pain will be too.

By Patty Lynn

The operation on my foot I knew was complicated,
But I could not imagine all the pain it generated.
You see, I had a nerve block for my leg and for my foot,
Was told that it would last a day or two, it should.

So I was blessed, I was pain-free much longer than predicted,
But when the pain set in I knew how much had been inflicted.
I now knew why that I was urged to keep pain meds on board,
Because forgetting only brought more pain as the reward.

The last two nights were awful ones, with stabbing, shooting pains
From top of foot to souls then toes like jumping, burning flames.
It got so bad that I’d cry out because I simply had to
Which woke my husband who would try to help, said he was glad to.

Tonight I hope will be improved and that I’ll stay in bed,
That all my pain will stay away and I can sleep instead.
Besides I know that I will heal much better if I’m rested.
Recovery, will shorter be, you see it’s all connected.                                                             


Here's the next installment in the journey through Patty's foot surgery. And an important part this is. This time after surgery could have been a solitary one if it weren't for my dear family, and I'm so thankful for them.

By Patty Lynn

My day’s complete, my family came to see if I’m OK!
My daughter brought my grand-dog, Arch, to give him time to play…
With our dog Cooper, they’re good friends who love our fenced-in yard.
They chased each other, back & forth, and barked & ran real hard.

When they both left my sister came with groceries and flowers,   
A glass of wine, and laughs galore, we could have talked for hours.
Then Frank & I had pizza, yum, that is our favorite treat,
And after that, the best for last, my grandchildren so sweet.

How is it that, when you’re in pain and tired from the day,
Two little boys can come to call and kiss your blues away?
Your foot, it hurts, the feeling’s back, the pain is quite whopper,
But then you get a great big hug and it’s a real pain stopper?

They may not be those little ones I used to rock to sleep,
But when they tell me, “I love you,” it brings me to my knees?
To put that love in words is hard, it’s not like any other,
Suffice to say, it’s what you’ll feel when you’re an old grandmother.

 So I will sit here patiently, I’ll try, let’s put it that way,
Until I hear my visitors who’re pulling in my driveway.
I’m ready for the smiles they bring, along with hugs and kisses.
My foot may hurt, I’m stuck inside, but then there are those visits.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016


I've discovered that having this blog and sharing the events surrounding my foot surgery has been very cathartic, a diary of sorts...that rhymes.  So you've all been with me through the process, at least the impending surgery and the operation, to today's post, my post-op analysis.  And I hope I've been able to add a little levity to all of this, if you don't need it, I do.  Now I find out that I won't really see my foot for myself for 8 days, my appointment with the doctor and dressing removal on May 4th.  I'll have to sit tight until then, because I have no choice.  The leg and foot block hasn't worn off yet so I'm pretty much pain-free, for now.  Based on what those who followed up with me today have said, when it does regain feeling, I'm in for a real treat.  Yay!!!  So here is today's post, post-op.

By Patty Lynn

So here I sit this morning, a day post-surgery.
My left foot elevated above my heart’s, that’s key.
The doctor chose a walking boot, I know I should be thrilled,
But “walking,” are you kidding me, with joy my cup's not filled.

I’m feeling back to “normal,” but stuck is really it.
I hate using a walker, don’t like it, not one bit!
And being so immobile, I know it has to be,
But I don’t have to like it ‘cause sitting still’s not me!

Now that’s it for complaining, except…oh, I was kidding,
Besides my husband’s wonderful, right there to do my bidding,
And that’s the hardest thing for me, my needing so much help.
I’d rather have the luxury of doing for myself.

But that won’t be for several days, I’ll just have to accept it,
‘cause if I grab for this or that, my husband intercepts it.
There were some things I did myself today and, gosh I loved it!
I washed my hair & styled it too, put make-up on, proud of it!

So now I look at lot like me, not like that aging lady.
I’m still a gimp with quite a limp with my dear Frank to aide me,
Who’s waiting for the day that I can walk on my appendage,
And when I look at my new foot and say, “My foot looks splendid!”

Monday, April 25, 2016


In a few minutes I will have to go through the surgical shower process, and believe me, it is a process.  Antibacterial soap from head to toe, a hair wash and drying with not styling, no hair spray
(oh, save me!) and no makeup (Yikes!!)  But I have to follow the process they've set out and at 12:30 we'll leave to be at the hospital at 1PM.  The anxiety hasn't really subsided but I've been praying hard and so have my family and friends, so, it's in God's hands and I know I can count on him.

By Patty Lynn

Today’s the day, it’s almost here, I wish I could be glad,
But now comes the reality and, frankly, I’m just mad.
I finally found an exercise I love to do each day,
And now I’m fraught with surgery and fears I can’t allay.

You see, I’ve got a crippled foot, my left, to be exact,   
And if I leave it like it is, my walking I’ll subtract…
From daily life, I’ll have to quit the very thing I love.
The thought of that and surgery is nothing short of rough.

My friends and family have been great, encouraging, supportive.
The problem has two options, though, and both of them I’ve courted.
If I do nothing, pretty soon to walk I’ll be unable.
Correct the problem surgically, I’ll be upon the “table…”

And there I’ll lay as he attempts to deconstruct my foot.
He says he’ll fuse the one big toe, I’m glad that I can’t look,
Especially when he breaks the rest and pins them all in place,
In hopes that in 8 weeks from now, I’ll walk with style and grace.

Well, I don’t care how it will look or if I’ll recognize it.
God grant me, please, a foot that walks and I will not despise it.
For I’ll go back to walking tall, outside or on the treadmill.

Yes, that would be a miracle, two healthy feet that tread well.

Saturday, April 23, 2016


I've never been one to stick to a Spring Cleaning ritual.  Rather I do it when it's time, or try to a least, but when this poem took shape I thought it would be a good title.  There are things we do throughout the year but there always seems to be those couple of jobs that keep on being put off for another day.
Going through the pictures and papers that our Mom kept through the years was something that, well, we'd tackle on a rainy day.  But, the rainy days have come and gone and this project never got done, so we finally decided it was time.  As much as we dreaded doing it, it turned out to be really fun. We're going to finish up tomorrow, really, not the elusive tomorrow, literally tomorrow, and actually, I can't wait.

By Patty Lynn

“I need your help,” was all it took, “What do you need,”I said,
And we were off, my sis and me, I followed where she led.
She’d kept those photos, papers, too, since our dear Mom had died,
So it was time to take a look and then at last decide…

What should be kept or thrown away, it was the time to purge.
She’d tried to do it on her own, had often had the urge,
But it seemed insurmountable, the task, indeed, was daunting.
She thought if done in tandum, then, might not be so exhausting.

Old pictures, often duplicates of ones we both had kept,
Momentos that our Mom held dear and she loved to collect.
Mom’s keepsakes, yes, but loose, unmarked, they weren’t identified.
It’s such a shame, a year, a name, I wish had been supplied.

And so we tackled going through the envelopes and boxes.
A trip, it was, down memory lane remembering, then pauses…
Recalling friends & relatives, some pics kept us in stitches.
We marked some KEEP while others were the ones we marked as PITCHES.

There’s more to do, no, we aren’t through, tomorrow’s on the docket,
More memories of days gone by, for us it’s fun, don’t knock it.
When it’s all done, we’ll revel in the job that we’ve accomplished,
Then we'll look back at what we’ve done, and we will be...


Monday, April 18, 2016


Looks like surgery is imminent.  As much as I wish there was another way, the pain in my left foot has progressed to the point that there are no shoes that will fit and no way to walk without pain.  The surgery is next Monday at 2 PM and although I know this is the only decision that makes sense, it's still a gamble, as all surgery is.  I've asked all the questions (even recorded the conversation I had with the doctor so as not to forget anything) and am as confident as I can be at this point.  The outcome I pray will be good and I can "walk" in the parade of life in a normal pair of shoes. Hopefully, that's not too much to ask.

By Patty Lynn

It happened fifteen years ago,
A simple operation,
A little bunionectomy,
Required no contemplation,

Just commonplace, they said, “Routine,
Been done a thousand times,
And while we’re in there we’ll repair
Two toes, ‘twould be a crime…

To not correct two hammer toes,
Be painful down the road.
We’ll straighten them and then you’ll see
The comfort that you’re owed.”

Initially the foot looked good.
I thought the job just fine.
At last no bump, no bunion there;
A “normal” foot was mine.

But now fast-forward then ‘til now,
My foot, oh, wow, it’s bad!
The toes so crooked, leaning West,
Horrendous, I might add...

But didn’t hurt, that is, ‘til now,
Then made up for lost time.
And now I’m faced with surgery.
I wish I could decline…

But leaving things the way they are
Just isn’t, well, an option.
I only hope the doctor’s one
Who’s skilled and somewhat cautious,

‘Cause when I talked to him today,
He said he’s never found
A complicated case like mine.
That statement’s quite profound.

So all that I can do is pray,
I know God’s in control.
I pray He’ll bless the surgeon’s hands,
That he achieves the goal…

Of restoration and repair,
A foot that functions “right.”
No leaning toes, I’m done with those.
Let's hope the end's in sight.


By Patty Lynn

If you have read the poem I wrote,
The last one on my blog,
You know that we were sad because
A sickness struck our dog.

He walked real slow and didn’t wag,
His tail between his legs.
He shook and panted constantly.
We knew that it was bad…

But even when we took him in…
To see the vet, she said:
"His tests have all come back OK.
I know you’re filled with dread…

But I’ll give something that will help
To take away the pain.
With rest, perhaps, this thing will end
And hopefully he’ll gain…

The strength he’s needs to be himself,
To run, to beg, to bark,
And those last two, that bothered you,
They represent his spark.

And you’ll be glad when they return,
To have him like before,
Alert to anything that moves,
Go crazy at the door...

When someone comes and then to jump
On anyone who enters.
To go “hog wild” whoever comes,
Especially family members."

We came real close to losing him,
It lasted way too long.
Our Cooper Boy, had lost his joy,
We tried to be real strong,

And then we thought, "Perhaps the pills
He got to ease the pain,
They just might be too much for him,
Perhaps we should refrain."

And when we did we saw a change,
Saw glimmers of past,
Decided we should keep that up,
And maybe it would last.

So Sunday when we both returned…
From church, and came right in,
We saw a little something there,
Began to seem…like him.

And so I’m glad I can report
He’s back to being normal.
He isn’t sick, he’s feeling good!
That week-long thing was horrible!

Wednesday, April 13, 2016


Kind of a weird name for a blog, don't you agree? The past week has made me wish just that and more than once.  You see, our little dog, Cooper, has been very sick but from what or because of what we still don't know.  He ran out to the backyard on Wednesday and came back to the house two minutes later walking and acting completely different.  He began to shake uncontrollably and pant, I mean really pant.  When he walked his back end dipped way down and his tail was between his legs.
He'd occasionally yelp but we couldn't determine where he hurt but the shaking and panting told us he was in pain and that doesn't wash with us.  We felt we had to get some answers if he refused to talk to us, so we went to the vet who gave him a lot to relieve the pain and a muscle relaxer as his abdomen was extremely taught.  We followed the doctor's orders but found by Saturday that he obviously had too much of everything and we should cut back.  Yesterday he started to show signs of improvement and though he's not out of the woods completely, we're on the road to recovery.  Six days and $600 later we're fairly confident that this is winding down.  All this because he refused to talk to us!

By Patty Lynn

They burrow in your heart, they do,
And hold a special place,
Way deep inside, in recesses,
So crowded is that space.

That’s why you ache when they grow ill
And haven’t got a clue.
If only they could tell you how…
They feel, could talk to you.

Our little one, our doggie dear,
He’s just so sick, forlorn,
And we can’t figure out his plight,
In our sides, it's a thorn.

And yet we’ve tried and tried to find
An answer, cure, solution.
But even the professionals
Leave us with just confusion.

A week has passed and still we can’t...
Determine what to do,
But what we’ve done is pray a lot,
Our praying isn’t through.

He seemed today to perk up some,
But not “out of the woods.”
We’ll have to trust he’ll come at last
To health, that something good…

Will come of this, at least I hope…
He’ll be himself someday,
For life without our Cooper boy
Will never be okay.

For, as I said, he’s burrowed in…
Our hearts, our spirits, too.
We've had it with elusive things,
His normal’s overdue.

Friday, April 1, 2016


Perhaps I should rename my blog Politically Speaking. Not really, but, the current political atmosphere being what it is has given me so many reasons to write, that I can't help myself.

As I mentioned in last night's blog, initially I only sent this poem to a select few, as I was afraid I'd offend someone by actually mentioning names.  Well, in speaking with those who did receive it, the general consensus was that I should go ahead and send it to everyone of my followers.  So, here it is. You be the judge.

Note: If you go directly to my blog at (you can use this link) at the bottom of the post, click on Post a Comment and you can always tell me what you think.

By Patty Lynn

“What’s wrong with you,” now there’s a phrase, one I would never say.
It’s so demeaning, so unkind, the worst in every way!
But I confess, in recent weeks, I’ve thought this awful phrase.
It seems, I cannot help myself, I’m in a kind of daze.

Each evening when I watch TV & hear the U.S. news,
And get the latest coverage and sometimes interviews…
Of this or that one’s brilliant words concerning politics.
It soon will turn into reports of “Donald’s” latest tricks…

At least that’s my take, since it seems he’s taken to inciting…
His fans to lash out, much as he, encouraging their fighting…
To act in his defense because he’s surely is a victim…
Of all of his disruptors who protest and will not pick him.

And speaking of his fans and his supporters by the score,
How is it they’ve aligned themselves with no one like before,
Someone so crass, belligerent, that no one can deny,
Whose rhetoric can be described as his own battle cry.

There isn’t any substance to the things he does and says,
Just idle words that leave me cold, unable to think PRES?
And that’s my quandary as I see the throngs that stand in line.
How can they say, “As President, our Donald would be fine?”

The concept's so alarming, it defies my comprehension.
My thoughts now stray ahead to the Republican Convention,
And I am faced with what might be the Presidential ticket
At such a prospect, I confess, my ire does illicit…

Between, his honor, Donald Trump, and let’s say, Mrs. Clinton,
He just might win, a tragedy, at least in my opinion.
It makes me scared, l’m scared to death that it could really happen.
I can’t believe it’s possible, I can’t even imagine.

So, to the folks who crowd the streets and clog up all the highways…
To show support for Donald Trump, who look at this all sideways,
I can’t help say, “What’s wrong with you?” I just don’t understand.
How can you think that he can be leader of our land?

I know I’m not supposed to be so pointed in my views,
Not come right out and state them but this warning’s my excuse:
Be careful of suspicious wolves who come in their sheep’s clothing,
Because, you’ll see, that just like me, you’re left with fear and loathing!


Tonight's musings concern themselves with what's happening and news-worthy in our country right now.  I haven't really thought of myself as political but the aberrant nature of this particular election leaves me unable to think about little else.  My first offering was merely my views but written in such a way as not to mention any names in an effort not to offend anyone, especially if their views were in stark contrast to mine.  But upon further consideration, I decided if you have a different opinion, I respect that and you needn't feel obligated to even read my poems.  They are merely my perspective and opinions, nothing more.

By Patty Lynn

I’m really not political, on second thought I am
‘Cause when it comes to Donald Trump, all I can say is, “damn!”
The things he says are so bizarre, he surely can’t be serious,
Perhaps he has a rare disease and he’s just plain delirious?
And maybe it’s contagious and his supporter’s got it,
That’s why these poor deluded souls are so convinced they’ve bought it...
This drivel that he’s spewing out, ridiculous his patter,
While others say, “He’ll go away, it really doesn’t matter.”
But I’m afraid it does, my friend, it could affect the nation
‘Cause, God forbid, it could turn out he gets the nomination.
Now, if you are a Democrat and think you are immune,
You still aren’t safe from Mr. Trump, the resident buffoon.
His followers are legion, imagine him our leader!
And if that happens, I, for one, will surely have a seizure.
I think that at the very least I’ll have a nervous breakdown...
That’s followed by my making plans to have a simple meltdown.
And then I’ll move to somewhere far, perhaps across the ocean.
I know that may sound drastic but I’ve toyed with such a notion...
That illustrates just how I feel, I really am afraid…
Of what might be the worst mistake this country’s ever made.
You’ve heard his views on Muslims, Pro-Choice, illegal immigrants,
On water-boarding, building walls, you’ve seen how he views violence.
And yet so many stand in line, when asked, they say they're for him.
Since that’s the case the rest of us had better not ignore him.
And so I say emphatically, “On Tuesday cast your vote!”
For Donald Trump as nominee may not be so remote.

P.S. If Trump was single and on the Bachelor, I'm sure they'd deem him as un-dateable.  Too bad for us that he's not regarded as un-candidateable.  If only...