Suicide by buttermilk…
Filed in NHL |Journal,
Last night was pretty rough. My temp went to the level where a trip to the emergency room was necessary. Got released around midnight after they had stuffed me with? antibiotics. This morning I had to check back in with my doctor for additional antibotics. Now I feel like a pincushion. Not really. All I can say is that all the people at Cabrina hospital are jewels. Even had a chance to do some serious witnessing to my nurse. She promised to be in church with us this Sunday. along with her four beautiful daughters. (Her husband is a doctor. Just a matter of time and he’ll peek around the corner. Gotcha!)
The problem likely began at our Thursday family luncheon. Not listening to my doctor, ole independent Buddy Martin went out in public. Probably picked up some germs while there. Course that is in the past. I actually got the? manager’s promise that he will be in church with us Sunday. Now is that what you call ‘pestering people into the kingdom of God?’
But I also have another idea on where the fever came from. Good old independent Buddy Martin does not always follow instructions. There are certain foods that I am not suppose to eat. My steak must be well done. No shellfish. (I’ll save the last one for last because my entire case rest upon a suspected ‘it looks like a suicide attempt’ that can only be accrued to my sweet Betty.)
Anyway I ordered a steak with shrimp. Remember the song, ‘Good golly, miss molly.’ That’s me? — Herr Stupid. Course the doctor discounted any food that I ate as the cause for my fever spike.
Now here it is. There are certain kinds of cheeses I am not to eat, and buttermilk is a great big no-no. I think this is drawing lines just a bit far. Anyway, yesterday here’s my sweet Betty with a half-gallon of the sweetest butter milk this side of the Sabine River.? Unsuspecting as I was, I poured me a big cold glass and down the hatch it went. Wow, was that ever delicious. (Actually you aren’t a fully-grown man until you can drink a full of buttermilk and a mess of cracklins.)
Then it dawned on me. Hey! I says to myself. Something don’t smell right and it ain’t the buttermilk. Hmmmm. I’ll have to investigate further. (All in fun folks. All in fun.)
I slept well. And then I had a most refreshing morning when two of my original? elders of Christian Challenge came by for a visit; Joe Garlington and James Dauzart. Although I have to keep visiting to a minimal, these two brothers are more than extra special. We shared memories from the early days of Christian Challenge. We laughed plenty. They were with me three hours and it seemed like just a few moments of time. Don’t know when I’ve felt more refreshed from a visit as I did this? morning. These two men are my comrades in arms. I would not be surprised at how we may get to work together again in the vineyard harvest of the Lord.
One other thing I did this afternoon. I realize that so many good friends would like to come by for a visit. Wish I could open my arms and say, ‘Come in friend. I am happy to see you.’ But I can’t do that. In my case it could be a disaster.
So, as much as I hated to do it, I designed a sign for our front door. This is what it reads:
Friends: I am taking chemotherapy. Therefore, my immune system has shut down. So, if you have a cold or any other “bug”, please postpone your visit until you are well. Thank you for caring. Then in big letters I have, No visitors - Please call first.
Well my sweet Betty is trying to take a nap. She is so tired. So when you pray, please lift up my darling lifetime companion. Don’t know where I would be without her.
Love all of you. Once again I am feeling really great.
Was the buttermilk bad? :
Cal,
You missed the ‘pun.’ The buttermilk wasn’t bad at all. I was just funning with everyone.
Love you,
Buddy
Now that would be my kinda suicide … Sweet and delicious. I love, love, love buttermilk and use it in so many baking recipes. Ross, however, thinks of buttermilk as being a very close relative to broccoli and neither shall pass within 10 feet of his lips. “Perfect”, I say, “all the more for lil ‘ole me.”
Love you and your journeling, Buddy. Bless and keep you. You and your sweet Betty are daily in our prayers.
Twyla
Well now Twy,
You’ins sho nuff got some true southern grit in ye.
Love you too sis,
Buddy
Hey Daddy!
You made me laugh with this one. I, too, thought you meant that the smell was from bad milk… that it wasn’t really buttermilk. I had to re-read it. But I laughed about it both ways I read it. You have such a great way of telling a tale! I love you tons! Keep writing. I look forward it every day!
Love,Shana
Hi sweet love,
Telling tales is sort of my forte in life. I think people should laugh a lot and giggle even more.
Love you more than mucho,
Daddy
Brother Buddy,
I am so amazed that someone who has been through so much in this short time can have the sense of humor that you do. What I am not surprised in, is that no matter what you are going through, you still are doing the Lord’s work of ministering to people. Both you and Sister Betty are in my prayers.
Much love to both of you.
Lori
Hello everybody,
I need to defend myself. Please notice that Buddy called this “suicide by buttermilk”. I did not attempt to “murder” him - he did it on his own, thereby, “suicide”. I was just Dr. Kivorkian by supplying the buttermilk which he had been craving for days. I knew it was “cultured” and had doubts about it but wanted him to have anything he wanted so I bought it. Then at the hospital Nathan does a search and found out it is a BIG no-no. But we had a good laugh about it while staying over 5 hours in ER watching antibiotics drip into his veins. Buddy makes “diagnosis and causes” with such great knowledge and expertise - he truly amazes me. {:>} (That’s a great big haha) He has tried to reason why he came down with fever but the doctor said they could not find a cause and the things he mentioned probably did not matter. So, now you have the rest of the story.
Betty
Lori,
You are such a sweet sister in the Lord. Thank you for your prayers. As for doing the Lord’s work, that is really what life is about for we Christians.
Give an extra big hug to those three boys of yours.
Blessings,
Buddy