Operation (Literally) Deviated Septum - Success Part 2

Splenda Daddy has had a deviated septum for I think his whole life. Dude can't even BREATHE out of his nose. And the snoring? Don't.even.start.me. I've been bugging him for awhile to make an appointment and go get it looked at. Finally after seeing how Corbin's was a success, he bellied up to the bar and went in.
He knew it was going to be painful, and that it was NOT going to be a walk in the park. I think he was unprepared for his initial pain.By the time I go up to the surgical center, after getting Tuffy out the door for prom, he was in recovery. I was brought up to date. His blood pressure was higher than they liked and he had a rippin headache. They gave him an extra Percocet and some other meds to lower the BP. An icepack helped alleviate some of the pain in his head.
After watching him for a little longer, and making sure he was okay, they let me load him in the car and take him home.
I set him up on the recliner in front of the big screen, put a humidifier directed at him and a plate of Chinese food in his lap. I think he was feeling much better by then!

Once the splints come out next Tuesday, the rest test will begin. Keep your fingers crossed that this did the trick. That he'll actually be able to breathe, sleep and smell! I guess no more farting around him. Now, he'll actually be able to know!

Cool video

If you haven't seen this before, it's worth the 1:44.



Well said sweetheart, and AMEN!

Slang Gang Word of the Day

April 24: Tweet-Dropping
When a twitter user has a one-way conversation with a celebrity so that to the users followers, it seems like they are talking to a celebrity and thus are instantly 端ber-cool in the eyes of their followers, when in fact they are a loser with nothing better to do than have a fake conversation with themselves.

Similar to name dropping IRL, but even more annoying and even less likely to be true.

Tweet-Dropper: @BritneySpears How did the barbecue go? I heard Justin Timberlake was there too >.< awkward?

Tweet-Dropper (A few minutes later, without a reply from Britney): @BritneySpears Haha yes, I suppose after a while it got pretty normal for both of you, you must go to loads of the same things!

Tweet-Dropper (Again few minutes later, still without any replies from Britney): Yeah, it's been great! How do you squeeze so much into 140 chars lol? =P

Tweet-Dropper's Follower: Wow, this guy I'm following is having a conversation with THE Britney Spears!

Tweet-Dropper (To self): They are totally falling for my Tweet-Dropping!

*To think I am missing so much not being a tweeter.....

**And so I am NOT accused of being a plagiarizing thief - all Slang Gang word of Day posts come from here

Funny Bone Friday - Things I may have heard, or said, or just thought in my head

"Don't let Jordan eat your nuts honey, she'll get sick."

"Elmo shot a buffalo?" "Either that or the meat walked right into his freezer."

"I'm invoking the law of consecration. What's yours is mine."

"I'm gonna need to see some ID before you come near me."

Just go ahead and move that man flap over.

I'm not sure that between those two greasy, stringy haired women, without bras on, and boobs sagging to their knees, there is a full set of teeth. But they both can work a Dr Pepper bottle like no other.

Thankful Thursday - Part Deaux

I can't do a Thankful post today without mentioning a couple of specific people.

Splenda Daddy. Admittedly I was more than a little bugged last night that I felt so pressured to go get checked and it ended up being nothing, which don't get me wrong, is good, just wished I would have waited. However, by morning's light and after a scolding from the Shark, I realized that we did the right thing based on previous experience and I am darn lucky that he loves me and cared enough about me to be so worried and careful. And thanks to the Shark - he now has his own fan club of which I am a charter member.(Tiburon is freakin amazing with the computer graphics - behold her greatness)I am so thankful.

Speaking of the Shark......I didn't call anyone last night. I don't like that kind of attention. Now, if I'm being funny then by all means make me the center of attention, but for this kinda crap, I'd rather just blend in and not be noticed. But I knew that if I wasn't there in the morning for class, I would be getting a phone call. I also knew that if she went to the ER and DIDN'T CALL ME?? I.would.be.ticked.
So I send a text and within moments, she is on the phone willing to drop everything, come right down there and even spoon me if I needed it. I'm the first to claim that I'm lucky enough to feel like I have many good friends and many people whom I love and who love me back, but Shark is one of a kind. Words sometimes just aren't enough. I think I have another sister. Lucky me. I am so thankful.

Tuffy. What a good kid. I know I go on and on about him a lot. But last night I was particularly proud of him. He was at work when we left. Splenda called him when he got off, explained where we were and told him to go to bed and we'd let him know more later. When we came home, he was still awake. Talked to him and I really figured he would sleep through seminary this morning. Nope. Dude got up at oh-dark-thirty and got himself to early morning seminary. No worries for me. I am so thankful.

Blog friends that you get to meet IRL. I got a phone call this morning with a lunch offer. Seems that Annie was in town and had a window of time to get together. LUCKY ME!! Really, if you don't read her, go check her out. And while you are at it, note that she is just as beautiful in person as she is on her blog. She came with her sister and a friend and met me, Shark and Pedaling at the ever delightful Cafe Rio.
(I blame the morphine hangover for my, um, er, look)
Fun fun times! Meeting Annie was a kick! And this was my second time meeting up with Sheila and I adore her more each time. This blogging world has brought me much fun, happiness and a buttload of new friends. I am so thankful.

Thankful Thursday

I debated whether or not to even post today or to even talk about last night.
But after giving it some hard thought today, I would be very ungrateful if I didn't so, here goes.......

I am thankful for my health. That I am home and not at IMC on the 9th floor in an ugly gown and trying to humor the nurses. February of 2008, I had pulmonary emboli. (Feb of 2008)
In dumb dork talk? Blood clots in my lungs. Yeah, I know, WTC? It came as a surprise and really, I've talked about it before, but for the past few days, I have been feeling the same pain/discomfort and sensations that I did back then. Now, knowing my lifestyle, there is ALWAYS something that hurts. There is never a day when there isn't some muscle on my body that isn't sore. That's just the fact. That is my lifestyle choice. And so 14 months ago, I thought I had just pulled something at the gym. Yeah it hurt, but my nature is to just keep going, it will get better. It didn't, it got worse and worse to the point that we were in the ER in the middle of the night. The diagnosis took me by surprise as it did the doctors since I hadn't had any real risk factors going on. I had to stay in the hospital for 4 days. KILLED ME! By the afternoon of the first day, I was begging Splenda to get the laptop because staring out the window to my office building downtown was killing me. I was just sitting around, might as well work when I wasn't sleeping off the Lortab.

Fast forward to last Thursday night, Friday morning. Again, feel like something is tweaked. Whatever, I have the half marathon and really brushed it aside as I focused on the race. It has consistently gotten worse, to the point yesterday it was now the same discomfort and sensation as last time but in the early stages. Not the, I-want-to-die-of-pain, stage.
I made the mistake of telling Splenda Daddy. See when it comes to things like this, I am a worrier about him but not about myself and vice versa. So I usually don't mention stuff like this, knowing it will go away. My mistake. He stews on it and decides we need to go get it checked. Me? No. I know what is involved, and I want none of it. He keeps after me, after me and after me. I finally acknowledge that yes, he is right. If it's clots back again, better catch them now. Or risk dying. Take my pick. I tell him he is going to look silly when we leave the ER and it's nothing.

So off we toddle to the big beautiful IMC ER. Do you know what happens to ER's when the weather is nice? HOLY FREAK! I knew it was going to be bad the minute we pulled in the parking lot.
I check in, give them my symptoms and sure enough, here comes an aide with a wheelchair. I can walk I insist. No, no, if it's clots we don't want them moving around. Fine. Sit in the blasted chair and get wheeled right to triage, as the other waiting patients glare at me for going back before them. Whatev.

Cute little Dale, the volunteer, comes shuffling in to take my vital signs. You know it's bad when they have to start using the really old birds that volunteer there to take vital signs. My vitals are all very good. Yeah, I work hard for that kind of blood pressure. No imminent threat is perceived, so I go back the waiting room. Ditch the wheelchair, I can and will walk by myself.

Observations while sitting for an hour and a half in the ER waiting room. These might have been said out loud, they might have just been my thoughts.

That lady over there looks like she is going to heave.

That is a fine motherly example. And those are just the tats we can see.

Is her toe completely off?

What is his issue? He doesn't look or sound sick.

Why do people even come to the ER when they can go to Instacare? (Side note, the only reason we did ER is because the only way they can tell if it's clots is a CT scan. Can't do those at Instacare)

Lady on the laptop looks like a dork with her headphones on.

The least we could do is watch Idol instead of whatever this stupid show is on CBS.

I don't want that big aide taking my blood. He is scaring the equally big dude he has come to fetch.

What does that lady have that makes her look like she is going to heave? She keeps wiping her brow and looking like she might really keel over. Please don't be an airborne viral something or other that I will catch.

Dude with the chains, the door is locked, you can't get through without being buzzed. Wait for it....wait for it...."hey the door won't open." "Yes, I need to buzz you through, just a minute"

I have now done a complete assessment on every person in that ER waiting room including laptop lady's companion; some chick in her camisole and sweats limping around; the entire family with pregnant wife, hubby, and three small children one of which is the patient and she jumping around like no cares in the world.

I am also then assessing each new person who comes in. One in particular, an older hispanic woman with what appears to be her adult son. This woman is IN PAIN. It is more than clear she is hurting. Splenda and I take turns guessing. I settle on kidney stone. Been there, done that a couple of times, I recognize the painful squirm. They don't however speak very good English. Son fills out paperwork and tries to communicate the fact that his mother is about to die, please see her. He's told as quickly as we can. They sit, I watch her writhe in pain. I suggest to Splenda that maybe we wait another day, see how this goes and come back if it doesn't get better. Nope. Not only is it not getting better in the time we've been sitting here, but I'm really not comfortable right now. It hurts.

About 10 minutes later as more patients go through the process - check in at the desk, go to triage, sit in the waiting room and when anyone comes to call out a name, look like you are waiting to see if you won the lottery, I notice that Hispanic son is getting pretty agitated that no one is calling his mother. He goes to one of the triage rooms and stares in the window. I am thinking, please don't be packing dude. Please don't be so upset that you decide to shoot your mother's way in. I am now not only feeling crappy from the pain in my back and chest, but now freaking a little that we just might have a TV episode in real life going down.

A triage nurse placates him. He returns to mother, I sigh in relief. Except I hurt. Hear a little girl moaning and see Mom holding a 5 or 6 year old in her arms and talking with nurse. Should she just go to PCMC or stay there? Heck if it were me, I'd be picking up the phone, calling PCMC, seeing how backed up they are, and then if at all possible, head up there. But, I am not her, and I hurt.

The door to the patient room area is opening and shutting quite a bit, and it slams as it shuts and locks each time. Laptop lady is sitting next to the door because there is a plug there and she can plug in. Big, blood-draw guy comes through and, no way, she actually complains to him about the door. I guess it's jacking her laptop every time. Are you freakin serious? Unbelievable.

Finally! Melissa, a blond ER nurse, calls my name. Yes, it does feel like we won the lottery. As we go through the doors I tell her to specifically let it slam HARD! HAH - take that laptop lady!

Get a room, which luckily had a TV. A few moments later the doctor actually comes in. The doc before the nurse? Wha? Bad omen. They are busy. Go through my schpiel AGAIN for like the 3rd time. When they get to the question of family medical history and I say my dad died at 36 of an MI (myocardial infarction - heart attack), I ALWAYS get raised eyebrows. Well, that merits an EKG. Seriously, I could go in there with a sore throat but dang girl, let's get an EKG! She also reviews the other tests she is going to do and leaves.

My nurse, a dude whose name I can't remember now, comes in. YES! A dude nurse! It's been my experience, that they are the best! I have to give him my schpiel AGAIN. That's it, I'm done telling the stupid story. He takes my vitals. Gets me a warm blanket and leaves. Splenda finds something on TV to watch and we settle in for what we both know is going to be a looooonnnnggggg while.

EKG kid comes and yes, he was a kid. I even asked him for ID. Blood person comes and places the IV (HOLY HANNAH FIRETRUCK!) and draws blood. More waiting. Dude nurse comes back, so like could I maybe get something for the discomfort? No only do I hurt, but you know, those hospital beds are oh-so-comfortable. Sure, he'll ask doc.

Dude nurse comes back, little morphine in the IV. WHOA NELLY! WHOA NELLY!! WHOOOAAAOOAA NELLLLLLLY!!! Um, dude, you realize I weigh a buck eleven, how much did you give me? Seriously, I've had morphine a time or two or three, but this was significantly different. Now off to la-la land.

At some point, I think I better text the Shark so she'll know why I will prolly no beee to classsshhh in the murning. Yep, morphine has taken over. Shark is all over this. Splenda's cell phone starts ringing. Who needs family when you have the Shark? What would I do without her? Promise to keep her up to date. Purdy now calling. She got a heads up from the Shark. Promise to keep updated. I wanna close my eyes again. Me no hurty anymore, me no talky anymore, me sleepy.

CaaarraaaaP! What is taking CT so long? Really, that's all I needed in the first place. Just a little CT scan, see that there are no clots, feel silly for coming in and go home. Splenda walks out to nurses station to check on it. He is very nice, he explains that he understands they are busy, but just to make sure, it did get ordered right? He is placated and wanders back to the room.

Stop clicking your ankle Splenda. Stop clicking your ankle Splenda. Where in the crap is CT? Really, I just wanna go home. Stop clicking your ankle Splenda.

FINALLY! CT comes in, turn on the light, sign some papers, yada yada yada. Contrast dye, yada yada yada. You don't understand sweetheart. I.ALREADY.KNOW.ALL.THIS.
Just freaking get it done already!

Fresh warm blanket and wheelchair ride to CT, just about to get out of the chair when a tech comes in and explains he needs this particular machine RIGHT NOW.
NOOOOOOO, I've been BUMPED! Apologies, so sorry, it will just take another minute. Wheels me out to the hall, and I turn my head to see who dared to take my spot. Um, okay, it's a little boy who is scared to death. They have given him meds to slightly sedate him and need to do it while he is manageable. My head hung in shame. Okay, fine. Do the boy. I can't wait. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Get on the CT table, take some pics. Give me the dye. HOLY FREAKING MOTHER TRUCKIN WHA?!?! Okay, I've had this before, but um, I think I might explode. I think I have become a human bomb! Thank goodness the feeling lasts a mere minute. Or two.

Back to the room. And surprisingly, the wait is now minimal. Doc comes within a half an hour and is pleased to inform me that:
1. No clots - that is a GOOD thing - YAY!
2. Blood work looked great. No sign of an underlying infection.
3. EKG - splendid. No heart issues.
4. I checked out as "pristine".
Did you hear that? I'm "pristine". I get my good girls and shirt back on, Dude nurse comes in with paperwork that Splenda signs and a bottle of a couple of Lortab. Niiiiice. Will add to my collection.

Home and in my own bed by 12:45 or so. Relief, relief, relief. The morphine is wearing off by now so I am in bed with a warm rice bag and back to la la land. Blessed rest, in my own bed on floor 1 in my own jammies. No beeping machines, no chatty nurses and no.ugly.gown.

And that boys and girls, is what I am most thankful for today.

Side note: If this happens again, Splenda said we would do it just the same. Go to the ER and get it checked. Better safe than sorry you know. I informed him no, unless he was willing to take the IV. Hmmm, change of plans, will hit up the doc for muscle relaxants first. Thatta boy Splenda.

Wednesday Wrandom Wrambling's

So many thoughts just a-rattling around, I thought perhaps I'd get a few of them down. Maybe my posterity will be convinced that some day's, I actually had thoughts. Even if they are totally random.

I hate the pool. HATE! Weird, 'cause I grew up swimming. I'm not bad, I was taught well, have good form, minimal splash, and can get even manage to look fairly clean at it. As opposed to Splenda who kinda looks like a seizure in the water. We have to keep on-lookers from having to offer first-aid. But that's another story....
So one would think the pool is just a natural thing for me right? NOPE! Once I got a little older, I got WEIRD about germs in the pool. I mean think about it, you are wallowing around in the same big pool of water that LOT'S of other bodies are swooshing around in. Ewwww gross! I realize there are chemicals, but in my mind, there are just not enough chemicals in the world to kill off whatever might be on or come from all those bodies. And by "all those bodies", I mean even just one. Don't even get me STARTED on the kiddie pools.
Silly me, signed up for and actually PAID MONEY to compete in the Women of Steele Triathlon next month. What part of tri, didn't alert me to the fact that a pool would be involved. For weeks, I have been telling myself, it will be fine. Like riding a bike, you jump in and remember everything.
This morning, I jumped in, I remembered everything and wanted.to.barf. Did I struggle with the stroke? The breathing? The goggles? The sync of it all? NOPE.
Were there other bodies in the pool? Yes and therefore, the disgust. Even when they are people I know and like, I just can't help it.
And here it is several hours later and I still smell the chlorine in my nose. My skin is dry, and the thought of having to venture back in for more, much needed training, is about doing me in.
Next time, I think I'll offer to do a relay team. I'll do all the running in the world, just don't make me get in the pool! At least the super cute Sheila from Pedaling will be doing it too, in fact, jump over to her page and give her some encouragement too.

What exactly is the right way to hang up a hanger? Front ways, right? RIGHT? The hook goes OVER the bar straight on. Not underneath it (approach from the back of the rod). What part of this can't I teach certain members of my family? Yes, I am indeed grateful for the fact that hanging up clothes is part of our repertoire, but for the love of all that's holy, can we at least hang them THE RIGHT WAY?! (I personally think he knows it's a button pusher and just likes to tease me, but I want validation that my way is the right way.)

I'm bored with my job. I really don't want to work. I want to stay home and be A Meemaw and babysit Sissy while her Mommy works. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen. Anyone notice the economy? And even though I have the best boss, the best co-workers and work for the best company, I don't want to work. I'm bored. Am I too old to be a cop? That would be cool. Get to carry a gun, drive fast with bright lights, and help people. I don't have a college degree and am 42 years old, is that a problem? Would either of those things keep me from being a cop? Maybe I should google it. Maybe I should have googled it before I posted this so I don't irritate the Shark. I hate making her butt itch and all. But yeah, being a cop sounds like it's right up my alley. (And to those who might be reading who are currently out of work - no attitude of ingratitude intended, I am grateful I have a job, just spouting some thoughts and feelings)

I get to talk to Elder Catmull in just a matter of weeks. I can hardly wait! This mission thing IS really what it's all cracked up to be. I understand the directive to young LDS men to serve if at all possible. To see the changes in him and the blessings our family have gotten, is beyond words. And the best part? He is still that crazy, silly, happy, easy going, smartalecky kid he was before he left. I see it and hear it in every email, picture and letter home. Nothing about his personality has changed. His spirituality? Now, that's a different story. It's like he's on spiritual steroids or something. Part of me wants him home more than anything and the other part of me doesn't want him to miss a thing out there. I want his experience to go on and on.
Am I weird? Wait, don't answer that, I already know........

Oops, a few random thoughts turned into quite the post. My apologies and if you quit reading a long time ago, I really don't blame you. But then again, you won't see that I don't blame you because you never made it this far : )