You Are The Daddy
Yesterday, the girl grandbaby ended up in the ER. You know those tiny rubber bands that are used for your hair? The tiny ones that look like the ones on braces? Yeah, those. She stuck one up her nose. My son said he could see it, but was deathly afraid of pushing it deeper if he tried to tweeze it out. And then she screamed.
Now the parents were both terrified and so was the baby. They went to the ER, saw their baby given a ketamine shot and then suctioned. Now I will say, as a first emergency this must have been scary. I remember her dad’s first trip. He broke both the bones in his forearm when he was five. He jumped on a balloon that didn’t break and he hit a step. Talk about traumatic! His arm looked like a U!!
My poor grandbaby was done being treated in fifteen minutes but it took three hours to clear her from the ketamine. It took another three hours for her dad to calm down from the adrenaline.
It was the first, my son. There will be others. There will be worse, I’m sure. All will be scary.
Now you are the daddy. Now you must be brave. Now you must cuddle that little girl, kiss away her tears and tell her that you love her.
You are the daddy.
So, there have been no posts.
No, not Logan’s fault. It’s all mine. Just as everything else around this house is my fault, this is too. Now I will attempt a partial explanation.
Many times on this blog, I have complained about my memory lapses, and my migraines. Many times I have found myself comforted by the comments that assured me that I was not the only one. Many times, I have been ‘talked off the edge’ by just being able to vent about my frustrations at being blamed for bills being unpaid, paperwork undone, and little tiny ‘favors’ being cast by the wayside.
Years ago, I mentioned these lapses to my doctor. He kinda laughed and said it was normal, that I was going through menopause and hormones may be the cause of the migraines and being 50 was the cause of losing my mind.
My new doctor has given me meds to handle the migraines. I love it. I can head off a migraine before I find myself crippled by the pain. The problem is that the migraines have gone from one or two managable headaches to three or four managed migraines with one big motherfucker that kills me. This doctor isn’t laughing it off. The frequency of the headaches coupled with the memory lapses has given him cause for concern.
This evening I will have my brain scanned.
He didn’t sound panicked. He just wants to rule out anything bad and see if there has possibly been an undetected mini-stroke. Okay, I was cool with that and just planned for my test.
Last Thursday, while talking to mom, she asked what was going on. She heard through the grapevine that I was having this done. So I told her and tried to downplay it so she wouldn’t freak out about it. But mom said, “Oh it’s a good thing you’re getting checked out. Stroke runs strongly in our family.”
“Oh sure. Three of my sisters had strokes and your uncle had a stroke on the operating table while having a brain tumor removed.”
She never mentioned that or I would have called the doctor immediately to add that to my file. (I tend to do that instead of waiting until I go into the office for routine check-ups) “But mom! You said that the aunts had heart attacks!”
“Heart attacks/ strokes, same thing.”
So now I sit here waiting for appointment time and quietly freak out.
Ummm…..oh right, the blog….
I have ideas and I do write them down. I have been annoyed at people, politics, celebrities, and news. It’s just that when it comes time to write a post, I can’t remember where I wanted to go with it. By the time I do remember, it is a non-issue again.
And….I just did it again. Rather than delete that, I have left it there to show you what I can’t seem to explain.
This coming Sunday, Logan will be Christened. The entire family is excited to gather for a happy reason. All of the family is bringing something. Hubs is paying for a hall and I managed the guest/food list. (I have lists fucking EVERYWHERE!!!) I was so scared that I was forgetting something but Shenanigans and I went through the list and I did quite well! Even Holly helped with the list and not much is left to do. I have finally relaxed knowing that I haven’t fucked things up by forgetting to invite someone, or not having enough food. *sigh of relief*
So there you have an update on my life. This is the part where you sit back and say, “Wait….What did she just say?” Then go back and read it again and tell me if it made sense. I’ll try to let you know what happens.
As soon as I promised to write more, I fall off the planet again.
Actually I am coming to terms with news from my doctor. I went to the office last Wednesday for a checkup on my numbers, my weight and my horrible allergies. I have lost five pounds and more than five inches on my waist. This was good news.
By the time I got into the examining room, however, my allergy-pressure-migraine was ready to peak. I was afraid of throwing up or worse-passing out. The doc looked at me and handed me a prescription to deal with it. The last time I discussed pills for this, I was told that it would be something that I would take every day to keep migraines at bay. Not wanting to deal with that, I just dealt with them the best way that I could-ice packs, caffeine, and peppermint oil. Those three combined do a bang up job, but I have to be home for them. This pill, however, was bliss. I love my doctor!
And then we discussed my cholesterol. It seems that a summer of parties, party cake, potato salad, and of course alcohol has finally caught up with me. If I had avoided those things, my weight loss would have been more than five pounds. Instead it made my cholesterol spike. I have one month to fix this before he says I will need medication. Not thrilled.
Since I have done so well with my half hour of walking every day, he now wants me to raise it to one hour. This is doable. The next step is two fresh or frozen fruits and two vegetables a day. One fish a week and more beans. This is a very simple step for me to incorporate. I am so freaking happy that he is encouraging me with very tiny steps.
Oh it is showing. I had a pair of jeans that were so comfortable. I gained weight and put them away hoping that ‘someday’ I would fit in them again. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that they could be doing someone else some good and so I put them in the Goodwill pile in the basement. While looking for something different last week, I came upon them and pulled them on….just for shits and giggles. Lo and behold!! They fit me again!!!
And there you have it. Nothing is new….except my attitude!
The Gauntlet Is Thrown
I have a new doctor. Actually it is a practice of four and I can choose to stick with one or see whoever is on call. I am sticking with Dr R.
I went to see him in February and he treated me for a sinus infection that I didn’t even know I had. He told me to have some blood work done for my thyroid and liver and come back in a few months. Well, the blood work that should have been done in March was just accomplished two days ago. Since Babygirl needed a physical, I went in too.
First, he scolded me for waiting. I should know better! I’m a grown-ass woman after all! And he told me exactly WHY I need the blood work. Well, I knew why I needed it, I just didn’t know what would happen without it. (Medications could be ‘too much’ or ‘too little’) Now I could scold myself and I did-internally.
Then, he said “You need to lose 20 pounds”
I know this. I have tried, albeit half-heartedly, for a while. I exercise for a few days, start aching and quit. Or the weather is too hot, too cold, too wet, too whatever and I quit. Or I get busy with projects and I skip a day or two or three and I quit. My old doctor used to tell me I needed to ‘exercise more’ or that I needed to ‘watch my diet’. Those are vague things to me. But being told “You need to lose 20 pounds” is pretty specific. I found myself listening. Not hearing….but LISTENING. I am of ‘a certain age’. I am ‘post menopausal’. My body is different now. I ‘need to act now.’
“Walk 15 minutes in any direction and then turn around and go home. You can do that, can’t you?”
Well, yes, but….
“You have two dogs to walk. You don’t have to run or power walk. Just walk. Doable?”
“You need to cut the carbs – not OUT of your diet, just cut back. Instead of a sandwich with two sides, eat one with an open face. Stick with a baked potato. You don’t need butter or sour cream. Try salsa, or some broccoli and a little bit of cheese. Enjoy an egg or two a week for breakfast. Just skip the sausage or bacon or switch to turkey. You can do that can’t you?”
“Okay then. I’ll see you in a couple of months.”
I walked out of the office feeling like an ass. I have never been given such tiny little things to work on. I am a douche if I can’t manage those tiny little changes. Whenever I left the old doc’s office, I would leave crestfallen at the thought of ‘exercise’. He would suggest joining a gym or pool to do ‘workouts’. They were never an option for me. Dr R never mentioned either to me. He didn’t give me a ‘low fat’, ‘no carb’, or ‘diet regimen’. Just a few changes that were within the realm of possibility without buying special foods that were separate from what I would buy my whole family.
Now I feel like I have been dared. As if he has said “I DARE YOU TO COME BACK HERE WITHOUT AT LEAST TWO POUNDS GONE.” The gauntlet has been thrown.
No one dares me, motherfucker.
I have quite a few posts that are started. Many of them contain photos and tell of my travels with Bubblewench. However, something else happened that is sucking alot of my time.
Bandit has a little brother. Two weeks ago, a friend of Son2 posted this picture on Facebook:
It was a cute little pup that looked just like my Bandit. She had rescued it from someone who was going to take him to the pound. She described him as “smart, housebroken, good with kids” and at a year and a half of age, he wouldn’t be growing much more. After a bit of thought, I called Hubs and he agreed to the adoption. We went to pick him up and were greeted by the sweetest little fella.
He is small. We found out that he is part chihuahua….the part that barks. At least he only does it when there is someone strange around or when he gets excited playing. It is tolerable. He is a cuddler and he is frisky. We threw names about because no one knew what his name was. Sparky? Skittles? Outlaw? Smoky? None had suited him. Finally Babygirl, in desperation, said “Oh hell. He’ll probably answer to something stupid, like ‘Mordecai’.” With that, the pup ran over to her and got excited. We tried it again and again and each time, he had a reaction. And so, his name is Mordecai.
Bandit has taken the new arrival in stride. He has taught Mordecai to stay downstairs. He is teaching him to be more calm when on the leash. And Mordecai is teaching Bandit to play with another dog, stop being a scaredy-cat, and to share ‘mommy’s’ attention.
Bandit sighs alot and gives me the equivalent of an exaggerated ‘eyeroll’ when Mordecai misbehaves.
They both went to the vet for shots and unfortunately, Mordecai had a slight reaction. The injection site hurt enough to make him yelp in pain when touched. I was ready to ‘wait it out’ but Bandit was behaving strangely. He offered Mordecai his ball and his bones. He licked his face and sniffed his neck gently. They say that animals can sense when things are wrong and the fact that Bandit seemed “worried” about his new buddy, made me take this more seriously. I called the animal ER and they told me that benedryl would hold him over til the morning. His regular vet told me to give him baby tylenol which worked wonders.
Today is the first day that I could sit quietly and do this properly. I plan on catching up with the other posts soon. I haven’t forgotten the blog nor any of you.
**PS, Grant, I got the cards and loved them. I’m just the ignorant bitch who hasn’t responded. Therefore, you are getting a public apology. Love you.
You Didn’t Tell Me??!?
Last Monday, Hubs came home from work with a scrape on the bridge of his nose. This is a normal thing when he is using his CPAP machine when he goes to bed. However, he hasn’t been using it lately due to the head colds that are making the rounds of our family. Babygirl happened to notice it and she asked what happened. “I don’t know. I probably just scratched it wiping spider webs out of my way.” This is a normal thing too. (So no bells and whistles are going off although, hmmm….it’s odd for someone not to know how a scrape the size of a dime got on the middle of their face…..)
And so….end of conversation….
Flash forward to Sunday night. We did our usual get-ready-for-the-week planning. You know-what jobs need to be done, what bills to pay, what appointments are coming up, etc. He put some paperwork into his office and came back out. “Hey, if we get anything from “P” Hospital, let me know.”
We have no reason to go to “P” Hospital. It isn’t local. No one’s been sick or had an emergency. Maybe for a work contract?
“Remember the scrape I got last week? Well…..”
He proceded to tell me about looking at a job. He had pulled down a ladder to the attic area and a two-by-four had slid out, hitting him on the bridge of his nose. He fell backwards and through a sheet of drywall. According to him, he was looking up one minute and waking up to smelling salts the next! The home-owner insisted that he go to the hospital to be checked out. (He had a slight concussion) The homeowner also drove him home in his work truck and parked in our driveway. (I sortof remember seeing this, but just assumed that Hubs was talking to someone that he knew who pulled into the driveway to chat.)
“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME???? YOU ASS!!! ”
He couldn’t understand why I was upset. I remembered how he didn’t want to go grocery shopping, how he stayed home on Tuesday, and how he gave Son1 a day of work. He was under doctor’s orders to take it easy for the next few days. His excuse was that he didn’t want to upset Babygirl when she asked him about the scrape. His excuse was that he didn’t want me to worry.
This is my biggest fear. More than spiders or fire, I fear that something will happen to him at work, rendering him incapacitated or God forbid-worse. Of course he didn’t want me to worry, but knowing what the problem was, I would have watched him carefully and gotten past it. Now, I find myself second-guessing the way I look at him.
How could I not see that he was keeping something from me? I kind of did, but like him, I didn’t want to push it in front of Babygirl. But why didn’t I ask him again later? When he stayed home from work, he claimed a sinus headache. Since I’ve been battling one for weeks, I accepted that. But why didn’t I say more when he wouldn’t take anything for it?
I stayed up the other night wondering if I have become complacent in our relationship. I always thought that I never take him for granted. Well, maybe I do. Maybe I just need to tweak my game. In the past few days, I look into his eyes more. I find myself listening ‘harder’ when he talks to me. When he sneaks up behind me to kiss my neck, I let it linger, even though I’m cooking or folding laundry.
I always considered the ‘little things’ to be important. Now I know that the ‘tiny things’ are important too.
Under The Radar
Last week I fell off the face of the earth.
After bowling on Monday, I felt fabulous. I can’t tell you how many times Hubs looked at me and just said “What?”. It appears that I was grinning from ear to ear over the fact that I was pain free after a day of lifting, twisting and throwing the heavy balls around. Tuesday, I was kind of tired in a sleepy kind of way. And Wednesday, I had a followup visit with my doctor, in which I smiled some more about the new meds. But I coughed while in the chair and he looked into my ears, nose and throat.
“You have a sinus infection.”
“Are you sure? I feel okay, aside from a little sleepy.”
“Nope. You have a post nasal drip, redness in the nose and throat, and I heard a little something in your chest.”
He gave me a prescription and sent me on my way. It was too late to fill it, so we decided that Hubs would pick it up for me the next day. I went home and did a few things. By eight o’clock, I was dead tired. By nine, my throat hurt, and by ten, I had a temperature of 101* and the chills. The chills stuck around for the day and the fever for two more. When I woke up, I almost cried. My head hurt so bad that a cough felt like a bomb exploding. My humidifier once again became my best friend. Even the neti pot did nothing to move the gunk out of my head.
I went under the radar and locked myself away from humanity.
I stayed in my bed. I took my medicine on time. I blew my nose and coughed up lungs. I tried eating, but what’s the use? I can’t taste a damn thing. When the chills got to be too much for me, Bandit pressed himself tight against my thigh. Thank God because, my skin hurt to touch and the thought of a hot shower made me cringe. After four days, I got up, ate and showered. I changed the sheets and put on some real clothes and a spot of makeup.
I feel human again.
I am back to doing laundry. I went outside for a walk yesterday. I even cooked dinner once more. I still can’t taste anything and every morning I wake up with a glorious mouth of slime and cotton all over my teeth and gums, but I can breathe once more and I can cough without peeing my pants. (Progress)
Now my son has it. Now my Hubs is fighting it. Babygirl is coming home tomorrow.
I am bleaching my house.
I managed to spend three days feeling like a normal person. Laundry got done, dishes got washed, floors vacuumed and bills paid. We used every last bit of ‘dinner’ food in the cupboards, fridge and freezer. Hubs and I planned a ‘circle run’ for last night (CVS, Acme and the mall to pick up an order for Babygirl) Unfortunately, I woke up with a headache. Thank God it wasn’t a migraine, but it was just enough to make concentration difficult. By the time Hubs got home, the nausea had joined in.
Apparently, I was not as ‘over’ the virus of the holidays.
We did the CVS and got all of my prescriptions. We shopped at the ACME and managed to get all that we needed, even though I found myself staring at the shelves. But I was hard-pressed to keep my stomach where it belonged. Hubs took me home and once the groceries were put away, I went to bed.
It was barely 8:30. I woke up twelve hours later, kissed Hubs goodbye as he left for work and slept again until 11:30 today.
The doctor says this is something going around. There is not much to do but stick to clear fluids…lots and lots of fluids.It appears to last an average of two weeks. If the fever of last week returns, then I have to call him. I hate waiting games.
I find it amazing that the body can be strong and capable one minute and the next, it is nearly crippled by pain or illness. I spent three days feeling happy that I was done being sick, only to get a headache and suddenly I feel too weak to lift my head or stand longer than a minute or three. (Yes I told the doctor, and he laughed. This is common.)
I can’t remember the last time I was hit with a virus that just seemed to cling. It would be sweet if I could be guaranteed that this would be the ONLY sickness I’d have for the forthcoming year!
Sucks and Smiles
Every time I check in here, I am surprised that so much time has gone by.
I have begun to go off my wellbutrin. Let’s just say…….I am miserable and it sucks and we can leave it at that.
My thyroid is jacked up. The previous doctor didn’t keep very good tabs on it and the new doc immediately upped my dosage. Now I am up and moving around and I’m hungry and I’m burning it off and I talk with run on sentences and I barely take a breath between words and I use the words “and” and “you know” like a teenager.
And then I get miserable again.
But I am smiling and happy that things are changing.
Babygirl came home on Thursday and she will be home until Tuesday. It is so nice having her and the BF and BFF coming and going. Bandit is getting all the loving he can and he sleeps with her right now because…..
I hurt my foot and I am currently on crutches. What did I do, you ask? I don’t have a fucking clue. Really.
I had gone out with the gang on Saturday night wearing a pair of cute boots. (Not even the ones with the highest heel!!) I never tripped or fell, but I did dance a bit. Around 1:30am, as we were leaving breakfast, I thought, “Jeez, my foot hurts!” I chalked it up to wearing boots that I haven’t worn since last winter. I got home at about 2 and when I tried to pull said boot off my foot it was tight. My right foot immediately began to swell, but I was drun–, um, a wee bit intoxicated. I guess that is why I didn’t feel such bad pain.
When I woke up, my foot was swollen and I couldn’t put weight on it. Needless to say, Hubs and I spent Sunday afternoon in the hospital, getting x-rays and crutches. (It’s not ‘visibly broken’ and if it still hurts by mid-week, I need to see a specialist….because God knows, I don’t see enough of them!)
So there you have it…sucks and smiles…..but with Babygirl home, those smiles are HUGE!!
I am a cranky, miserable bitch. There I go, stating the obvious.
I am having a perfect storm of ‘bad’. Not my husband, kids or friends. It’s me. Capital M. Capital E. I am constantly bitching at my poor Hubs. He knows something is wrong but is afraid to ask. We are so in tune to each other that he knows that I will bite his head off if he says “What’s wrong?” He is being ever so sweet. He helps me clean the house. He helps with Bandit. He cooks me breakfast and orders dinner. But it doesn’t make me happy.
Babygirl has been so happy lately. We (she) is getting all of her FAFSA papers filed. She hasn’t argued with me. She has cleaned her room.(mostly) She helps with the laundry.She has chosen her roommate for next year and they are like long lost friends. It will be a good pairing. But it doesn’t make me happy.
A major part of the problem is that the doctor has cut the dosage of my antidepressant in half. (“Let’s see how you make out with less of a dosage. Maybe we can wean you off of it.”) I learned my lesson about that. I would stop taking it every spring so that I could take something for my allergies. In the summer, I am out in the sunshine more, and therefore, I am happier. But as soon as September rolls around, I am depressed, and I have to ask the doctor to put me back on them. This is the first year I have stayed on them and I am very happy with the results that I have been having. I am humoring Dr. Asshat for the next week or so. Then he will have to humor ME.
Another part of the problem is that the pain in my back has worsened. This isn’t the first time it has happened after a series of shots. But it is the first time that I am in excruciating pain that keeps me in a constant cycle of sit/stand/walk every half hour or so. My pain meds are not working completely. I called his office today and we are in the process of getting me into the hospital for my neuralytic. This is the only thing that has made me happy.
I haven’t been thrilled with movies or music. This is highly unusual for me. I had been writing and now I look at the page and it takes too much effort for me to reread and find my place again. I log onto Facebook and aside from a comment here or there, I don’t even want to hang out there. This has not gone unnoticed by my friends. I am Ms Crankypants. I have lost my funny. I am the cheerleader. The clown. The jokester. Now if anyone says anything to me, I have a very curt answer. I am cynical. Cold.
Now that I have filled this page with an explanation, it is obvious to me what my next step should be.
I don’t think I’ll wait a month for Dr Asshat. Fuck that.
I want ME back.