Sunday, May 27, 2007
On Our Way!
We're leaving in two hours for a trip to Washington DC. So I won't be blogging this week. But if you hear in the news that security has been called out to the Lincoln Memorial, don't automatically think terrorists. It could just be Things 1 and 2 doing what they do best.
Why I'm Pissed Right Now
Not much phases Nurse Hottie (NH) in the medical world. I learned very early on that when someone has been seriously injured instead of thinking "oh, that poor person" (which is my instinct) his first reaction is "cool". When we first met he was an EMT, and I was very confused by this behavior. The thing is, he wasn't the only one. Everyone on his crew hoped it would be "a good call" whenever the siren went off indicating that they were being called out. I guess I finally understood it best when one of his cohorts told me that while they don't wish bad things on people, they wished they were the ones to respond when bad things happened to people. Okay, maybe I didn't understand it per se, but at least I stopped thinking they were a bunch of cold hearted bastards.
There is one thing though that NH cannot handle. And that is when a child has been injured. This is not to say he can't perform his job in that critical moment, but afterwards these are the patients that he is affect him emotionally. He came home from work this morning very, very angry. Because last night some idiot of a mother decided to drive home, after drinking, with her 2 and 5 yr olds sitting in booster seats. Without seatbelts. Fucking idiot. They got into an accident, and now the 5 yr old is in serious trouble. The child started seizing in the hospital (which indicates head trauma). We are have a small community hospital, so the child was medflighted out to Boston Children's Hospital. I'm sitting here seething just thinking about it. Because of course, the mother is fine. Or not. Right now I'm sure she's suffering emotionally, and I have to say with complete honesty - good. I'm praying/thinking/hoping that her child makes it through this. But, as bad as it sounds, I have zero sympathy for her right now.
From a legal standpoint - in case you're wondering, the paramedic, nurse, and doctor all filled out "possible neglect/child abuse" forms on this parent. The system investigates from here...
There is one thing though that NH cannot handle. And that is when a child has been injured. This is not to say he can't perform his job in that critical moment, but afterwards these are the patients that he is affect him emotionally. He came home from work this morning very, very angry. Because last night some idiot of a mother decided to drive home, after drinking, with her 2 and 5 yr olds sitting in booster seats. Without seatbelts. Fucking idiot. They got into an accident, and now the 5 yr old is in serious trouble. The child started seizing in the hospital (which indicates head trauma). We are have a small community hospital, so the child was medflighted out to Boston Children's Hospital. I'm sitting here seething just thinking about it. Because of course, the mother is fine. Or not. Right now I'm sure she's suffering emotionally, and I have to say with complete honesty - good. I'm praying/thinking/hoping that her child makes it through this. But, as bad as it sounds, I have zero sympathy for her right now.
From a legal standpoint - in case you're wondering, the paramedic, nurse, and doctor all filled out "possible neglect/child abuse" forms on this parent. The system investigates from here...
Friday, May 25, 2007
Wonder what the Underroos would look like?
This afternoon, after a long day with Thing One and Two driving me absolutely freakin' insane, I decided to stop and take a moment to love them. I was hoping that if we just stopped and all hugged each other perhaps an ounce of patience would find it's way back to me. So I said "Hugs and Kisses" and grabbed Thing Two. Went after Thing One who -
Turned his rear to me, simulated farting noises, and shouted "I'm Buttman!".
Great.
This, of course, got Thing Two started, which led to some sort of bizarre fart noise making competition. I think Thing One won when he accompanied the noise with "I'm using my special buttpower".
Where does this come from? What innate sense tells 3 and 4 year olds that farting, butts, and the word Poop are incredibly hilarious AND have the benefit of embarassing mommy if we're out in public? It's not just my kids either. I checked with Oakley awhile back (whose boys are 4 months and 2 months older than mine) and she confirmed that her boys also liked using the word 'poop' to make themselves laugh. My kids seem to have taken it to the next level by creating a superhero for the cause.
Turned his rear to me, simulated farting noises, and shouted "I'm Buttman!".
Great.
This, of course, got Thing Two started, which led to some sort of bizarre fart noise making competition. I think Thing One won when he accompanied the noise with "I'm using my special buttpower".
Where does this come from? What innate sense tells 3 and 4 year olds that farting, butts, and the word Poop are incredibly hilarious AND have the benefit of embarassing mommy if we're out in public? It's not just my kids either. I checked with Oakley awhile back (whose boys are 4 months and 2 months older than mine) and she confirmed that her boys also liked using the word 'poop' to make themselves laugh. My kids seem to have taken it to the next level by creating a superhero for the cause.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
And the cracksmoker of the day award goes to...
The 60 year old woman who gave birth to twins on Tuesday. Here's the story:
Frieda and her husband of 38 years had three children ages 33, 29, and 6. Either the 6 year old was adopted, or he was the biggest surprise baby ever (which really makes my shock/freakout when I found out I'd be having my kids 14 months apart seem really inappropriate.) Frieda and hubby decided that their 6 year old needed sibs closer to his age, so she went to a clinic in S. Africa that specialized in in vitro for older women. Translation: no doc in the US would touch Frieda's dinosaur eggs. Here are some excerpts from the story:
I'll be sure to let my 58 year old mother know. I mean, yesterday we were talking about her retiring and not knowing what to do with herself to stay busy. Voila - here is Frieda with the answer! I'm sure my mother would much rather do the whole up all night thing instead of traveling and relaxing. Plus her five older children can babysit!
Well babe, that's because of the meds. See, when you have a planned C-section they give you something known as anesthesia. It's sorta the standard these days. They try to avoid the whole "traumatize the woman in labor" thing whether you're 60 or 30. It's common courtesy.
Umm, it's interesting that you think you are showing her all the choices she will have, when instead what you've done is pretty much ensured that she will be raising your kids in 15-20 years. I don't care how long you live - 75 is gonna feel like 95 when you're raising two teenagers.
And here is really what I think - this is incredibly selfish. I know that something could happen to me tomorrow and the boys would be motherless (for at least the mandatory 6 month mourning period that Nurse Hottie and I have agreed upon). But the odds are that I will be around for their college graduations while it's much more doubtful in Frieda's case. Sorry - I just don't get this one.
Frieda and her husband of 38 years had three children ages 33, 29, and 6. Either the 6 year old was adopted, or he was the biggest surprise baby ever (which really makes my shock/freakout when I found out I'd be having my kids 14 months apart seem really inappropriate.) Frieda and hubby decided that their 6 year old needed sibs closer to his age, so she went to a clinic in S. Africa that specialized in in vitro for older women. Translation: no doc in the US would touch Frieda's dinosaur eggs. Here are some excerpts from the story:
The psychologist who gave birth to twin boys at age 60 said Thursday she was on a mission to let women know they have choices. "It's really basically about women and empowerment," Frieda Birnbaum told NBC's "Today" show.
I'll be sure to let my 58 year old mother know. I mean, yesterday we were talking about her retiring and not knowing what to do with herself to stay busy. Voila - here is Frieda with the answer! I'm sure my mother would much rather do the whole up all night thing instead of traveling and relaxing. Plus her five older children can babysit!
"I don't feel like I went through a lot of trauma during delivery or even through the process of being pregnant," Birnbaum said.
Well babe, that's because of the meds. See, when you have a planned C-section they give you something known as anesthesia. It's sorta the standard these days. They try to avoid the whole "traumatize the woman in labor" thing whether you're 60 or 30. It's common courtesy.
Their daughter has said she worries about Birnbaum taking care of the twins when they're in their teens and she's in her late 70s — concerns dismissed by Birnbaum on Thursday.
"I hope I'm a role model for my daughter, that when she gets older that she can make her own decisions based on who she is rather than what society dictates," she said.
Umm, it's interesting that you think you are showing her all the choices she will have, when instead what you've done is pretty much ensured that she will be raising your kids in 15-20 years. I don't care how long you live - 75 is gonna feel like 95 when you're raising two teenagers.
And here is really what I think - this is incredibly selfish. I know that something could happen to me tomorrow and the boys would be motherless (for at least the mandatory 6 month mourning period that Nurse Hottie and I have agreed upon). But the odds are that I will be around for their college graduations while it's much more doubtful in Frieda's case. Sorry - I just don't get this one.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Hmmm - wonder what else they're doing when I'm not looking...
You know these first two pictures weren't taken by me - I would have been yelling at them to stop jumping off the couch! Daddy's reaction - to grab the camera and capture our children performing circus stunts...
Thing Two jumping on the couch
Thing One about to face plant on the couch
It's so hard being 3!
My Guys
Thing Two jumping on the couch
Thing One about to face plant on the couch
It's so hard being 3!
My Guys
Monday, May 21, 2007
Yes, I voted for George Bush.
Yes, I can admit it. Hello, he won the election - so I wasn't the only one who did...
I'm going to start with a disclaimer - I'm not an overly political person. And the past few years of my life the television has been pretty much tuned to Noggin, Nick Jr., or the Disney Channel. So I know I'm not politically-saavy, and I know I'm opening myself up to some potentially valid critcism (at which point I could start posting about the tax code, or the ridiculousness of Sarbanes-Oxley - which I can actually speak intelligently about). I'm not afraid to learn something new - nor am I embarrassed by what I don't know (if you can't admit deficiencies, how can you learn?). Quite frankly I'm not overly embarassed by many things - but that's a whole other post.
So lately I've been doing some blog hopping and have happened upon some blogs that I really enjoy. Some are mommy focused, some are not. A lot of them seem to be anti-Bush or very pro-democrat. One blogger posted a comment on my blog questioning why I voted for George Bush in the last election. Valid question, so I'll answer it.
Because Option B was John Kerry.
Do I consider myself Republican? For the most part, yes. Conservative? Relatively so, but it's an issue to issue thing. When I cast my vote, particularly for a presidential election, I do not vote along party lines, I vote for a candidate - and their supporting cast of characters. The first time Bush ran I voted for him - not because I was overly anti-Gore, but because I thought fairly highly of some the people that would be in office with Bush. Colin Powell was someone I respected immensely. Dick Cheney - not so much, but I sorta thought he'd drop of a heart attack before he ever got through year one of the vice-presidency.
As we all know, that election was a frickin' nightmare, but I can't be the only one who felt safer with George Bush (or more accurately, his staff) at the helm in the weeks following 9/11. I can't imagine the nightmare that would have been if Gore had been in office. Please do not misconstrue - I am not actively supporting the Iraq war (although I didn't have a problem with it in the beginning - I'm not going to pull a Hilary here!). I am talking very specifically about the weeks, even first year or two, after 9/11. I was glad I voted for Bush.
Here's another reason I'm glad I voted for him. Check out your tax bill. If you're married, with two children, it is now substantially lower than it would have been under a democratic administration. As a CPA I can actually speak to this intelligently. I can tell you that my tax bill is easily $4000 less as a direct result of changes to the tax law. I can look at the economy, my investments, and see a marked improvement over the past 7 years. These are things that matter to me, and to my family. I've got to give the current administration some credit for them.
Let's move on to the second election, or as I like to refer to it: The one the Dems didn't try to win. Had the Democrats thrown up ANYONE who had even a remotely decent chance at running our country successfully I would have voted for them in a heartbeat. Instead they threw the election. No one likes running against an incumbent (how do you think Bill Clinton, a relative unknown at the national political level, got the nom back in 92?). The Dems highest profile potential candidate, Hilary, was definitely going to run for President, but needed more time as a Senator under her belt. I guarantee you she and Bill had a conversation that started with this question: "Who can we back to run in this election that won't actually beat George Bush?". Somewhere there is a cocktail napkin with a list of democratic nopefuls (no typo there) with one name circled "John Kerry". Kids, I'm a Masshole. I know Kerry. And any of the democrats that knew Kerry knew he wouldn't win. Which is why they put him up to begin with.
So that's why I voted for George Bush. Because I didn't have any better options. I'm looking forward to 2008, and to hopefully getting to choose the candidate I want, instead of voting against the candidate I know I don't want.
I'm going to start with a disclaimer - I'm not an overly political person. And the past few years of my life the television has been pretty much tuned to Noggin, Nick Jr., or the Disney Channel. So I know I'm not politically-saavy, and I know I'm opening myself up to some potentially valid critcism (at which point I could start posting about the tax code, or the ridiculousness of Sarbanes-Oxley - which I can actually speak intelligently about). I'm not afraid to learn something new - nor am I embarrassed by what I don't know (if you can't admit deficiencies, how can you learn?). Quite frankly I'm not overly embarassed by many things - but that's a whole other post.
So lately I've been doing some blog hopping and have happened upon some blogs that I really enjoy. Some are mommy focused, some are not. A lot of them seem to be anti-Bush or very pro-democrat. One blogger posted a comment on my blog questioning why I voted for George Bush in the last election. Valid question, so I'll answer it.
Because Option B was John Kerry.
Do I consider myself Republican? For the most part, yes. Conservative? Relatively so, but it's an issue to issue thing. When I cast my vote, particularly for a presidential election, I do not vote along party lines, I vote for a candidate - and their supporting cast of characters. The first time Bush ran I voted for him - not because I was overly anti-Gore, but because I thought fairly highly of some the people that would be in office with Bush. Colin Powell was someone I respected immensely. Dick Cheney - not so much, but I sorta thought he'd drop of a heart attack before he ever got through year one of the vice-presidency.
As we all know, that election was a frickin' nightmare, but I can't be the only one who felt safer with George Bush (or more accurately, his staff) at the helm in the weeks following 9/11. I can't imagine the nightmare that would have been if Gore had been in office. Please do not misconstrue - I am not actively supporting the Iraq war (although I didn't have a problem with it in the beginning - I'm not going to pull a Hilary here!). I am talking very specifically about the weeks, even first year or two, after 9/11. I was glad I voted for Bush.
Here's another reason I'm glad I voted for him. Check out your tax bill. If you're married, with two children, it is now substantially lower than it would have been under a democratic administration. As a CPA I can actually speak to this intelligently. I can tell you that my tax bill is easily $4000 less as a direct result of changes to the tax law. I can look at the economy, my investments, and see a marked improvement over the past 7 years. These are things that matter to me, and to my family. I've got to give the current administration some credit for them.
Let's move on to the second election, or as I like to refer to it: The one the Dems didn't try to win. Had the Democrats thrown up ANYONE who had even a remotely decent chance at running our country successfully I would have voted for them in a heartbeat. Instead they threw the election. No one likes running against an incumbent (how do you think Bill Clinton, a relative unknown at the national political level, got the nom back in 92?). The Dems highest profile potential candidate, Hilary, was definitely going to run for President, but needed more time as a Senator under her belt. I guarantee you she and Bill had a conversation that started with this question: "Who can we back to run in this election that won't actually beat George Bush?". Somewhere there is a cocktail napkin with a list of democratic nopefuls (no typo there) with one name circled "John Kerry". Kids, I'm a Masshole. I know Kerry. And any of the democrats that knew Kerry knew he wouldn't win. Which is why they put him up to begin with.
So that's why I voted for George Bush. Because I didn't have any better options. I'm looking forward to 2008, and to hopefully getting to choose the candidate I want, instead of voting against the candidate I know I don't want.
Week(s) in Review
I've been too busy to blog, but here's what's been going on:
I turned 34 - and I am thrilled. Very excited about this upcoming year, this age, this life.
I was nearly decapitated by a foul ball at at Red Sox game. But they won, and won big, and the bruise on Nurse Hottie's hand did subside after 4 more innings (note - bruise was from him trying to catch the ball - not from me!).
My best friend might leave her husband for her new crush that I introduced her to...Jackie Warner from "Workout" (and I'm not recommending anyone else start watching the show, least I become responsible for more possible broken marriages).
The boys are now big Justin Timberlake fans. They sing all the tunes, Bye Bye Bye, Dirty Pop, What Goes Around Comes Around, My Love...Wiggles Shmiggles Baby!
The boys also now have a "big boy" swingset. Which took Nurse Hottie 16 hours to put together. Without my help. God knows I am a liability when it comes to power tools...and foul balls.
My aunt was diagnosed with cancer. Treatable, and we're still not sure if it's spread to the Lymph nodes (conflicting info on that right now).
I am becoming one of "those parents". Following the meet the kindergarten teachers event, I am already vying to have my child put with "the best" teacher. I know, it's Kindergarten - how critical can it be? Yet I am compelled beyond reason to make sure he gets the best teacher. I'm pathetic, I know.
That sums it up...for now!
I turned 34 - and I am thrilled. Very excited about this upcoming year, this age, this life.
I was nearly decapitated by a foul ball at at Red Sox game. But they won, and won big, and the bruise on Nurse Hottie's hand did subside after 4 more innings (note - bruise was from him trying to catch the ball - not from me!).
My best friend might leave her husband for her new crush that I introduced her to...Jackie Warner from "Workout" (and I'm not recommending anyone else start watching the show, least I become responsible for more possible broken marriages).
The boys are now big Justin Timberlake fans. They sing all the tunes, Bye Bye Bye, Dirty Pop, What Goes Around Comes Around, My Love...Wiggles Shmiggles Baby!
The boys also now have a "big boy" swingset. Which took Nurse Hottie 16 hours to put together. Without my help. God knows I am a liability when it comes to power tools...and foul balls.
My aunt was diagnosed with cancer. Treatable, and we're still not sure if it's spread to the Lymph nodes (conflicting info on that right now).
I am becoming one of "those parents". Following the meet the kindergarten teachers event, I am already vying to have my child put with "the best" teacher. I know, it's Kindergarten - how critical can it be? Yet I am compelled beyond reason to make sure he gets the best teacher. I'm pathetic, I know.
That sums it up...for now!
Friday, May 11, 2007
I feel like ranting...
I was talking to a friend of mine the other day (who is not aware of this blog - none of my "local friends" are aware of it) who is about to return to work following the birth of her first child. Since I can't say what I feel directly to her without causing an argument that isn't worth it, I'm going to vent here.
She told me how lucky I was to stay home with the boys. She's told me this several times, ever since she first found out she was pregnant. It's not in a complimentary way either. It's more of a whiny "I want to stay home, but my husband doesn't make enough, I make too much, it's just not feasable" way. In a way that is somehow supposed to make me feel badly about my "good luck". Mind you we worked at the same company, and I am aware of how much she makes, how much her husband makes, and how much her monthly budget is (before purchasing a home a few years ago she wanted me to look at their finances to make sure it was economically feasible - so I have a very thorough knowledge of their financial situation). I am not saying that she definitely can stay home. But her boss offered to let her work part-time and she whined about that. How she was so unlucky that her boss offered her this yet she had to turn it down.
The thing is that if she really wanted to she could stay home (again, I KNOW their finances) or at least take advantage of the work part-time offer. And she seems to conveniently forget that I did work full time until shortly after Thing One's 3rd birthday. And that like her, I was outearning my husband at that time. So, how did I get so lucky to stay home? Did I win the lottery? Did my mortgage company decide to forgive our debt and live in our house for free? Uh, no. So then how did it happen?
We made a plan, we took a breath, and then we leaped. I gave up a very large salary (and I'm not so tactless to post my earnings here, but trust me, it was a lot to give up). But we had also planned ahead. Saved our money. Realized we'd have to cut back on some of our spending (oh how I miss the merry maid service!) And then (and this is the big one, the hardest one of all for a financial control freak like me) I realized that it was okay if we had to dig into our savings from time to time to make this happen. I didn't say use up our savings, but we've definitely had to dip into it from time to time.
I'm not an advocate of either staying home, or working full-time. I'm an advocate of making choices in your life that make you happy. Note I didn't say in making your children happy, but in making you happy. Because I firmly believe that if I'm a happy person, a positive person, then my children are also going to learn to be happy and positive too. That HOW I live my life will teach them more than anything I SAY to them. That if I believe that anything I want is possible and live my life in a way that demonstrates that, then they will learn this too. I'm an advocate of put up or shut up. That if you're miserable, take steps to make things better - don't just spend your days up bitching about it. We all have bad days. I'm far from perfect. But I can at least acknowledge the fact that if I'm not happy it's up to me to figure out how to be happy - and not to spend my time focused on putting down others who are happy.
Which brings me back to my friend. She has a six figure balance in her savings account. Yet she still afraid to stop working full-time. Honestly a lot of this comes down to the fact that she was raised to be afraid. To focus on everything that can go wrong, instead of everything that can go right.
Quitting my job was, hands down, the scariest thing I've ever done. It was also one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Truthfully, I am lucky. I was born to parents who live their lives in a manner which showed me that life is about possibilities, not impossibilities. That if I want something to happen, I have the power to make it happen. I'm hesitant to post this because it sounds cocky - I don't think I'm cocky, I think I just believe that we all have the power to have what we want - we just need to get past that fear that stops us from trying to get it.
She told me how lucky I was to stay home with the boys. She's told me this several times, ever since she first found out she was pregnant. It's not in a complimentary way either. It's more of a whiny "I want to stay home, but my husband doesn't make enough, I make too much, it's just not feasable" way. In a way that is somehow supposed to make me feel badly about my "good luck". Mind you we worked at the same company, and I am aware of how much she makes, how much her husband makes, and how much her monthly budget is (before purchasing a home a few years ago she wanted me to look at their finances to make sure it was economically feasible - so I have a very thorough knowledge of their financial situation). I am not saying that she definitely can stay home. But her boss offered to let her work part-time and she whined about that. How she was so unlucky that her boss offered her this yet she had to turn it down.
The thing is that if she really wanted to she could stay home (again, I KNOW their finances) or at least take advantage of the work part-time offer. And she seems to conveniently forget that I did work full time until shortly after Thing One's 3rd birthday. And that like her, I was outearning my husband at that time. So, how did I get so lucky to stay home? Did I win the lottery? Did my mortgage company decide to forgive our debt and live in our house for free? Uh, no. So then how did it happen?
We made a plan, we took a breath, and then we leaped. I gave up a very large salary (and I'm not so tactless to post my earnings here, but trust me, it was a lot to give up). But we had also planned ahead. Saved our money. Realized we'd have to cut back on some of our spending (oh how I miss the merry maid service!) And then (and this is the big one, the hardest one of all for a financial control freak like me) I realized that it was okay if we had to dig into our savings from time to time to make this happen. I didn't say use up our savings, but we've definitely had to dip into it from time to time.
I'm not an advocate of either staying home, or working full-time. I'm an advocate of making choices in your life that make you happy. Note I didn't say in making your children happy, but in making you happy. Because I firmly believe that if I'm a happy person, a positive person, then my children are also going to learn to be happy and positive too. That HOW I live my life will teach them more than anything I SAY to them. That if I believe that anything I want is possible and live my life in a way that demonstrates that, then they will learn this too. I'm an advocate of put up or shut up. That if you're miserable, take steps to make things better - don't just spend your days up bitching about it. We all have bad days. I'm far from perfect. But I can at least acknowledge the fact that if I'm not happy it's up to me to figure out how to be happy - and not to spend my time focused on putting down others who are happy.
Which brings me back to my friend. She has a six figure balance in her savings account. Yet she still afraid to stop working full-time. Honestly a lot of this comes down to the fact that she was raised to be afraid. To focus on everything that can go wrong, instead of everything that can go right.
Quitting my job was, hands down, the scariest thing I've ever done. It was also one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Truthfully, I am lucky. I was born to parents who live their lives in a manner which showed me that life is about possibilities, not impossibilities. That if I want something to happen, I have the power to make it happen. I'm hesitant to post this because it sounds cocky - I don't think I'm cocky, I think I just believe that we all have the power to have what we want - we just need to get past that fear that stops us from trying to get it.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Drug Addict I am Not...
So I did wake up from surgery after all...
But when I woke up, the thing that hurt the most was this stinging sensation inside my nose. Morphine didn't touch it (yep, I tried that in recovery). So once I could stand, pee, and walk, they pretty much threw me in a wheelchair and sent me on my way. With that horrible stinging sensation. So I'm complaining about it, and Nurse Hottie says:
"well, that's the cocaine."
Say again?
"liquid cocaine is used all the time in the nose - it helps cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding. but it does sting."
So not only have I experienced my first time being "put under", I've also used cocaine. And given that burning sensation, I'm not likely to use it ever again. And while I'm at it, why in the hell do people try take Vicodin pills to get high? I've taken those pills twice now for pain and they did was put me to sleep. There was nothing euphoric about it. Yet people actually go to great lengths to get prescribed this stuff (or oxycontin, or any other hydrocodone derivative) so they can get "high". Of course I know this through Nurse Hottie's life in the ER. In case you are interested, what you do is go to the ER and complain that either your tooth or back is hurting you (do not use stomach - they send you for all sorts of tests when you complain about your stomach - what are you, a novice at this getting drugs stuff?). Then you tell the doctor that you're allergic to ibuprofin, and aspirin, which forces them to issue you a narcotic prescription (if they've fallen for your ruse). And there's the hitch. Some doctors, afraid to get sued in case there is a problem, give you the script and send you on your way. Others literally tell you to get the hell out of there.
Anywho, I'm alive and well. Hopefully you are too.
But when I woke up, the thing that hurt the most was this stinging sensation inside my nose. Morphine didn't touch it (yep, I tried that in recovery). So once I could stand, pee, and walk, they pretty much threw me in a wheelchair and sent me on my way. With that horrible stinging sensation. So I'm complaining about it, and Nurse Hottie says:
"well, that's the cocaine."
Say again?
"liquid cocaine is used all the time in the nose - it helps cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding. but it does sting."
So not only have I experienced my first time being "put under", I've also used cocaine. And given that burning sensation, I'm not likely to use it ever again. And while I'm at it, why in the hell do people try take Vicodin pills to get high? I've taken those pills twice now for pain and they did was put me to sleep. There was nothing euphoric about it. Yet people actually go to great lengths to get prescribed this stuff (or oxycontin, or any other hydrocodone derivative) so they can get "high". Of course I know this through Nurse Hottie's life in the ER. In case you are interested, what you do is go to the ER and complain that either your tooth or back is hurting you (do not use stomach - they send you for all sorts of tests when you complain about your stomach - what are you, a novice at this getting drugs stuff?). Then you tell the doctor that you're allergic to ibuprofin, and aspirin, which forces them to issue you a narcotic prescription (if they've fallen for your ruse). And there's the hitch. Some doctors, afraid to get sued in case there is a problem, give you the script and send you on your way. Others literally tell you to get the hell out of there.
Anywho, I'm alive and well. Hopefully you are too.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
I'm Still Awake Because
I'm due to be at the hospital in less than 8 hours for sinus surgery. And I'm not feeling entirely comfy with the whole thing. Specifically the whole "we're going to put you to sleep now" portion of the event. Anywho a good friend of mine said she always stays awake the night before surgery, so that she'll sleep more after the surgery. Not sure if this is the medically advised method, but I figure I'd rather be awake and getting stuff done rather than lying awake in bed dreading the morning.
So, in case I don't wake up from this procedure, a last Thing One story (and special request).
Today I'm driving with the boys and decide to tell them that they can be anything they want to be. I do try on a daily basis to tell them how special they are, how much they are loved, etc. etc. I figure the earlier and most often they hear these words the more they will believe them. Anywho I'm doing the standard speech all parents give at some point in time, which goes like this:
S: You can be anything you want to be when you're a grown up. You could be an astronaut, or a teacher -
Thing 1: I already have a teacher!
S: No, no, when you're older - you could be a teacher like Miss D, and you could teach children like she teaches you.
Thing 1: Oh. Okay. So what else could I be?
S: Well, you could be a builder, or a fireman, or a nurse, or a truck driver (see, I'm not trying to pressure them into fame and fortune - just trying to open their eyes to the possibilities of life).
Thing 1: What else?
Thing 2: Yeah, what else could I be?
Mommy is starting to run low on career path ideas...
S: Umm, you could be the gas station man, or a policeman, or a doctor, or a lawyer
Thing 1: What's a lawyer?
S: It's like a judge. Sorta. Anyways, you could be a scientist, or a painter. Now what do you think you'd like to be.
Thing 1: A clown.
S: A clown???
Thing 1: Yeah, a clown. I want to be a clown.
Okay - so here's the deal. I'm trying not to be overly concerned by my 4 year old's career aspirations. But since I'm facing possible death in the morning (yeah, I'm being melodramatic, I'm allowed!), I would hereby like to request should I not wake up from surgery please, would one of my sister's please find a way to ensure that he's not a clown. I'm not asking for President, or the next Oprah Winfrey, I'm just asking you to nix the Clown Career. Otherwise I will haunt you. By throwing huge clown shoes at you from the sky. Try me - I will do it.
So, in case I don't wake up from this procedure, a last Thing One story (and special request).
Today I'm driving with the boys and decide to tell them that they can be anything they want to be. I do try on a daily basis to tell them how special they are, how much they are loved, etc. etc. I figure the earlier and most often they hear these words the more they will believe them. Anywho I'm doing the standard speech all parents give at some point in time, which goes like this:
S: You can be anything you want to be when you're a grown up. You could be an astronaut, or a teacher -
Thing 1: I already have a teacher!
S: No, no, when you're older - you could be a teacher like Miss D, and you could teach children like she teaches you.
Thing 1: Oh. Okay. So what else could I be?
S: Well, you could be a builder, or a fireman, or a nurse, or a truck driver (see, I'm not trying to pressure them into fame and fortune - just trying to open their eyes to the possibilities of life).
Thing 1: What else?
Thing 2: Yeah, what else could I be?
Mommy is starting to run low on career path ideas...
S: Umm, you could be the gas station man, or a policeman, or a doctor, or a lawyer
Thing 1: What's a lawyer?
S: It's like a judge. Sorta. Anyways, you could be a scientist, or a painter. Now what do you think you'd like to be.
Thing 1: A clown.
S: A clown???
Thing 1: Yeah, a clown. I want to be a clown.
Okay - so here's the deal. I'm trying not to be overly concerned by my 4 year old's career aspirations. But since I'm facing possible death in the morning (yeah, I'm being melodramatic, I'm allowed!), I would hereby like to request should I not wake up from surgery please, would one of my sister's please find a way to ensure that he's not a clown. I'm not asking for President, or the next Oprah Winfrey, I'm just asking you to nix the Clown Career. Otherwise I will haunt you. By throwing huge clown shoes at you from the sky. Try me - I will do it.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Usually I try to encourage an ND reunion this time of year, but since the majority of the "usual suspects" were either knocked up or finding love Internationally, I didn't bother. Instead I met up with Conna and KYGirl down in Orlando, courtesy of Conna's American Express card (yep, her husband is paying that bill). Monetary revenge...something I know a little bit about ;)
Here's what I learned during the trip:
a) It's best to let the desk clerk attend to his sober guests first.
b) Mixing 1/2 can strawberry, 1/2 can peach and 1/2 can rum makes a kick ass daiquiri.
c) Do not ride the Hulk roller coaster after imbibing an alcoholic beverage (this one comes courtesy of Conna)
d) Use sunscreen.
e) Ethnically I am now to be known as "Half Potpourri". Perhaps someday I'll be able to better explain my Cape Verdean heritage, but for now this explanation seems to make the most sense to the average white girl.
f) Caesar, a valet at the Polynesian resort, will check out your boobs.
g) Caesar will also be the only person in the general Orlando area able to give decent directions, so honestly the whole boob checking out thing is a completely worthwhile price to pay.
h) I kick serious ass when it comes to shooting space aliens (see picture below - yeah, I know it's small, I'm still learning how to scan - someday maybe I'll even learn how to text - I'm such a technological loser)
i) When accessing the fingerpring activated lockers at Universal, press your thumb lightly. Otherwise you will end up with a long line of pissed off sweaty tourists behind you.
j) The song "Overkill" by Men at Work stays in your head for days once you've heard it.
k) Three days away from my kids makes me appreciate them, and Nurse Hottie, a whole lot.
Here's what I learned during the trip:
a) It's best to let the desk clerk attend to his sober guests first.
b) Mixing 1/2 can strawberry, 1/2 can peach and 1/2 can rum makes a kick ass daiquiri.
c) Do not ride the Hulk roller coaster after imbibing an alcoholic beverage (this one comes courtesy of Conna)
d) Use sunscreen.
e) Ethnically I am now to be known as "Half Potpourri". Perhaps someday I'll be able to better explain my Cape Verdean heritage, but for now this explanation seems to make the most sense to the average white girl.
f) Caesar, a valet at the Polynesian resort, will check out your boobs.
g) Caesar will also be the only person in the general Orlando area able to give decent directions, so honestly the whole boob checking out thing is a completely worthwhile price to pay.
h) I kick serious ass when it comes to shooting space aliens (see picture below - yeah, I know it's small, I'm still learning how to scan - someday maybe I'll even learn how to text - I'm such a technological loser)
i) When accessing the fingerpring activated lockers at Universal, press your thumb lightly. Otherwise you will end up with a long line of pissed off sweaty tourists behind you.
j) The song "Overkill" by Men at Work stays in your head for days once you've heard it.
k) Three days away from my kids makes me appreciate them, and Nurse Hottie, a whole lot.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)