Sit on my face…

11.29.2005 | 2:28 pm | Uncategorized, Daily Life

…and tell me that you love me!

(any other Monty Python fans? Probably not.)

I took a nap this morning because I’ve gotten a total of 10 hrs sleep over the past two nights combined. ::thud:: One of our moron neighbors has been letting their dog(s) howl and bark all night, which in turn keeps me awake for hours. I can forgive one night, but after two, we called to complain. It better not happen again tonight.
Anywho, since I felt like a zombie and wasn’t getting anything done, I decided to catch a nap. I slept on the mat on the floor in Grayson’s room, because it’s the quietest room in the house. When Gray’s naptime came, Philip sent him in the room to wake me up. How does my sweet boy prefer to wake his mama? By sitting on my face, of course!
I woke up to his sweet, dinosaur-pajama-ed little booty lowering down over my face. I couldn’t breathe. I told him this, and he giggled. I told him he was smooshing my face, and he giggled harder. I really love this part of motherhood. :)
While I was sleeping, Philip took Gray up to the credit union with him so he could get our new debit cards pinned. He left Gray in his PJ’s and his slippers. I told him that was totally redneck!
The teller said, “Oh, doesn’t SHE look cute!” Where’s my bat? Grayson has long hair, yes, but he doesn’t look like a girl! He was wearing blue dinosaur PJs for goodness sake. Philip told her, “Well, the dirty little secret is that he’s a boy.” LOL!

Last night we watched WifeSwap, and it was interesting because it was a (true) Christian family swapping with an Atheist family. We only saw the second half, so don’t hold it against me if I missed something crazy…but judging from the parts I saw, the Christian couple were exactly how I believe God would want his followers to be. Instead of turning psycho and making a joke of Christianity like that DarkSIDED woman did, they did two very appropriate things:
# One: They were open-minded where appropriate, yet when it came down to core beliefs, they stood their ground (like the dad not wearing a shirt that had the word GOD with a slash thru it when told to, and also refusing to stop talking with his kids about God).
# Two: They ultimately showed the couple God’s love. I know there were some issues between the Christian mom & the atheist dad, but those were based on his workaholic-ism rather than the different religious beliefs between them. In the end, the atheist couple, while still atheists, felt respected & accepted by the Christian couple. They said they wished more people would respect & accept them like they had. The Christian couple replied that most Christians like them (this means, NOT like the darkSIDED chick) would do just that. It’s what Jesus would do, so why should we not do the same?

I was so glad to see Christians portrayed in a positive, accepting light on a mainstream TV program. Still, the cynical side of me knows that people who aren’t Christians will still assume that most Christians are like the DarkSIDED chick. Most people will continue to make Christians the butt of their jokes and judge them wrongly, all because of whack-jobs like her (and their own prejudices). Now, I’ll be the first to admit, I laughed my butt off at her, too. I think she was hilarious as well as ridiculous. But she’s not the norm, and I think many people actually think she is. I think she represents the norm for her denomination, which is some type of ultra-conservative Pentecostal. She’s what Philip & I call a TBN Christian. LOL. TBN is quite the side show, and they should get her on for their next Fleece-a-thon.

I wonder what the other Deathway bloggers thought of the show (if they saw it). From what I’ve seen recently, I would guess many of them think the Christian dad should’ve worn that t-shirt and followed the gag-order. Don’t want to appear too hard-lined in our devotion to God. It’s sad to see a group that started out with the purpose of trying to stop the judging of nonbelievers, turn into a group that seems to exist mainly to judge their fellow believers. Deathway started out with the intention of combatting self-righeousness amongst believers, but sadly, most seem to have adopted reverse self-righteousness instead.

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Woohoo, it’s officially Christmas-time!

11.25.2005 | 8:31 pm | Uncategorized, Daily Life, Gray Matters

It’s so dead on the board today. Make that lately. I hope everyone gets back in the swing of things after Thanksgiving, because it’s boring there lately. The blogs are pretty dead, also. One of my favorites, Julie’s, I’m not able to visit anymore. The last few times I’ve gone there, something she’s got up on her page completely freezes my browser and I have to force quit it. That’s no fun, Julie! FIX IT! As if she reads my blog. LOL!
Today we got all the Christmas decor out and put up. Well, mostly ME. Philip did the outside lights, which took him no time really.
I spent the morning dusting everything in the living room, because I didn’t want to put Christmas stuff out on top of an inch-thick layer of dust. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I know for a fact that the last time I dusted was in January, when I took last Christmas’ stuff down. ::hides behind sofa:: I’m pretty rigid about keeping the house clean and neat, but I HATE dusting, and this year I found that you can get by for an awful long time without doing it. OBVIOUSLY.
Philip had to get the beta tapes with his commercials mailed out this morning as well, so he took Grayson to P’cola with him so I could work on dusting without Grayson interference. They picked up the tapes at Becky’s, and then went to Kinko’s to mail them. Gosh I hope he addressed them right. They’re for a couple of law firms and they’re going to air in the N.O. area & all the way east to P’cola & our surrounding area. Philip did all the visuals, graphics, etc., AND he wrote the script. He rocks. He’s been working on them literally day and night for weeks, and he finished them Wednesday, with a huge weight off his back. Mine, too. He’s grumpy when he’s swamped & on deadline. Okayyyyy, the grumpy part is usually when he’s having to pull me loose from the computer so he can GET to his deadline work. Haha!
While Grayson napped today, I worked on lighting the tree. It took over two hours to light a two-foot tree. I was just finishing when he woke up, and he was awestruck when he walked out of his room. “Lights!” “Pretty. Lights.”, was what he had to say. Of course, that’s what we heard over and over and over for the next 5 1/2 hours, until he went to sleep a little while ago. “Pretty. Lights.” Sometimes it varied to, “YeYo. Light.”, or “Boo. Light.”, or “Gee. Light.” (that’s yellow, blue, and green lights, respectively, in GraySpeak.)
Ah, how sweet. But never fear, the sweetness was always abruptly interrupted within minutes, by shrill screams of protest & anger whenever he didn’t like something. I’m glad to hear some feedback from others regarding this freaky mean phase he’s entered.

Yep, we also notice his positive behavior and use it as opportunity to heap on the praise. Like tonight when Philip had to interrupt him from his outside play–which consisted of intervals pushing his wagon & whining/screaming whenever the wheels locked, mixed with intervals of seeking out every pile of Reagan poop in the yard and pointing out proudly, “PooPoo”–anyway, Philip told him he was taking him inside to go potty, and we both expected violent protest and unbridled drama. You know, the usual reaction when he’s told he has to go inside from his riveting outdoor activities. But to both our shock, Gray went inside with no protest at all. Even with a good attitude! ::thud:: Philip brought him back outside to play for a while longer, and I saw that he’d given Grayson a sticker (I was outside wrapping ribbon around our mailbox to make it into a Mailbox Candycane). I said, “Oh, he pooped?” (he gets a sticker when he poops.) Philip said, “No, I gave it to him because he was so good about having to go inside. I told him how proud I was of him for going inside without being mad or mean, and that he was getting a ‘good-boy’ sticker.” Ah, the good moments make you feel so…good. Sorry, out of adjectives. But it was good. Short-lived, but good nonetheless. Haha.

Putting up the Christmas stuff means putting on the Christmas CDs! My favorite is the “Toast”-ed one with a mix of random rock stuff. One of my favorites on there is “Do They Know it’s Christmas” by (snicker) Band Aid. I name every artist as he sings his part, and I melt when Bono chimes in with his sultry, angelic voice. The memories really flow when that song comes on. Mostly Jr. High memories, so I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but boy does it bring back memories. They mention in the song that it was recorded on November 25, 1984. I checked the calendar, geek that I am, and that was TWENTY-ONE years ago, TONIGHT. I thought it was neat that it happened to be the anniversary of the recording, on the same night I broke out the Christmas music. But mostly, I just felt old. *sigh*

Well, I felt like crap all week, and finally this morning I woke up feeling better. Thank goodness! I’m not sure what it was, but my right ear was stopped up & kept popping–like I was in an airplane & descending over & over. With nary a Coke & pack of peanuts to be found! Ha. The worst of it was I was dizzy. I’ve felt like I’m motion sick all week, which is no fun. Thank goodness it seems to be better now. I missed Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, but we just stayed in & took it easy. And were thankful that we three are the best three there ever was. :D

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But, he’s not two yet!

11.24.2005 | 8:57 pm | Uncategorized, Gray Matters

I really hate it when my son, who can be so sweet and affectionate, turns on a dime and acts like a monster. He is really going through a “stage” this past week. A stage. Let’s call it that. Because that means he will eventually get out of it…right? It better not be the “terrible twos”. Because that implies this could last throughout this upcoming year. Or more. ::shudder::
He’s in trouble all the time recently, and is just downright mean for good parts of the day. I feel so bad that I’m spending more time getting on to him/disciplining him than getting to just enjoy him/praise him. But, he’s making the choice to act out, so I try not to feel too bad about it. We’re digging in our heels and being consistent with him, even if it means he has little sessions in our bedroom 20 times a day. ::thud::
It has to get better!
I still wonder, why did this child get my strong, willful personality, and not his daddy’s laid-back, submissive one? Lord, help me.
But in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I don’t for a moment forget what a blessing he is. Even when he’s being this way. He’s one of the gifts in my life I’m most thankful for today. I love him immensely. I know I’m doing the right thing by teaching & enforcing proper behavior, even if it seems difficult (and ohhhhhh so repetitive) at the time.

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Part II of what I started this morning

11.22.2005 | 6:39 pm | Uncategorized, Breast Cancer

Okay, here’s the second installation of my long, drawn-out story. I’m not proofreading it, so expect lots of mistakes and bad writing. :p

So on Thanksgiving Day 2001, Nov. 22, I was moved from ICU into a private room. The doppler checks on my new boob were moved down to every 4 hours now. That’s how often my drains had to be emptied, also.
I had a Thanksgiving dinner of hospital food…but in N.O. they even know how to cook hospital food so it’s tasty! So it was pretty good! LOL. The entire family hung out in my hospital room all day. I had to get up and walk every few hours, per my surgeon’s orders. It was very difficult at first, due to the stiffness setting in around my butt. But, that was why I needed to walk. So Philip & I took walks round and round the 4th floor, and by the end of the day I was only walking with a limp, as opposed to the hopping I was doing earlier. My nurses would cheer when I’d limp by their station, and tell me how good I was doing. :) Philip made comments that he couldn’t keep up with me. :) He was so sweet.
That night I took my second dose of pain medicine. I’d had a bad headache all day, and after that second dose, it got very bad - worse than any migraine I’ve ever had. The nurse told me I was probably sensitive to that particular narcotic (Demerol), and she put in a call to my surgeon to have it changed. At bedtime, the headache was unbearable and I was crying for some more Tylenol, but the nurse wouldn’t let me have any because I’d just taken two Tylenol a couple of hours ago. Get this- she said she COULD give me a Valium, though. WTF? You can’t take another TYLENOL until 6 hours have passed, but you CAN have a VALIUM. ???? I was like, NO WAY. I’ve seen way too many TV movies about women addicted to Valium! ROTFL! But she brought me a Valium anyway, and I was in so much nauseating pain, I caved like a druggie. This is so weird, but around 20 minutes later, I still had a splitting headache, but I ceased to care. How does that happen?! I just lay back on my pillow and fell asleep!
I woke up the next morning without a headache, and even though I had a new narcotic to take, I didn’t take anything. Less than 48 hours after the surgery, I was not in any significant pain that would necessitate taking something. Everyone thought that was pretty cool. Mostly I was very stiff and sore, but no real pain. Every time I’d get out and walk, it made the stiffness better (though it would set in again after I sat immobile for a while).
I had the best nurse that evening. Nurse Sully, who was a young-ish male. And as Philip would say, “gay as a french trombone”. He had the most extreme Southern gay accent that I’ve ever heard. When he came in to empty my drains, I told him to be gentle because the previous nurse had hurt me when she did them. :( He tsk-tsked her and told me he was the best drain-emptier on the floor. He said, and you have to know he was gay to appreciate this (be sure to hear that Southern accent):
“Honey, I’d rather SLAP him (pointed to Philip), than cause you an ounce of pain.”
ROTFL! I knew he was going to be my favorite nurse ever when he said that!
He even showed Philip how to strip the drain tube in such a way as to get every last drop of fluid out, AND without causing a bit of pain on my end (Philip had to know how to do the drains, because when I was discharged, he was going to have to do it for me).
Unfortunately, I started feeling bad that evening, and when Sully came in to check me, he found that I had a fever. Yuck. I’d been taking antibiotics since the surgery, but I was worried it was infection. Sully said it was probably just my body reacting to the trauma it had been through. He kept a close eye on me all night and kept telling me my incisions looked good. The fever was gone by the next morning, and what he said was probably true.
That day, my third in the hospital, both our sets of parents returned home. Philip’s parents gave him a couple of nice Polo shirts they’d bought somewhere downtown, and they gave Philip some money that they said for me to spend on myself once I was out & about. It was the kindest gesture! I guess they felt bad that we were BOTH going through this, and wanted to do something to cheer us up (although neither of us were down at all…quite the opposite, in fact).
My plastic surgeon’s partner came in that day to “okay” my discharge for the next day. He said all looked really good and he said there was no need for doppler checks anymore; the blood vessel transplant had been successful and it was there to stay. He removed the drain from my chest, as well. But the drain tube out of my hip had to stay until I saw Dr. S. the next week. That was the one Philip would have to empty.
I had another fever that night, which was again gone by the morning. Sully, who was on duty again, told me that was evidence that my body was just dealing with the trauma as it recovered.
The next morning, Saturday the 24th, I was discharged and we went to stay at the Extended Stay hotel in West N.O., near the airport. It had a full kitchen & a recliner. It was easier for me to sit than to lay down, since my big mofo incision was from my hip, diagonally down to the bottom of my booty. The sittin’ part of my booty was incision-free.
Just making the 25-minute drive from downtown N.O. to the west side, made me feel really crappy. The pain returned and I had to take a Darvocet (which don’t give me headaches), and I had a fever again along with the crappy feeling that goes with it.
We stayed at that hotel for a week, while I recuperated and healed. The deal is, you have to stay IN N.O. until one week after your surgery, in order for them to be nearby in case there’s a problem, and so you can have your post-op appt. with the surgeon. We stayed for 10 days post-surgery, because it was cheaper to rent the hotel for a week than it would’ve been for less than a week.
That week we were there was one of the best of our entire marriage. Philip & I wiled away the days together, either in the hotel room, or out & about. I felt stronger every day, but we kept it down to just a short outing or two per day, because after a couple of hours out walking or even riding in the car, I’d be beat. I’d also get a fever every time I was out for more than a couple of hours. My body was just beat up and needed to recupe! We hung out a lot at the Esplanade Mall, ate beignets and authentic Jambalaya, did some Christmas shopping, and made daily trips to the WalMart nearby–it fascinated the heck out of us that this WalMart had a LIQUOR store! Only in N.O.! Um, but we didn’t buy any…I guess that previous statement about daily trips sounds like we might’ve. LOL. Actually, we went there and I picked out a CD boombox with the $$ from my IL’s. We used it to listen to CDs in the hotel room. I also bought Natalie Merchant’s CD, Motherland, which to this day reminds me of that time in my life.
Philip & I spent every moment together, and every moment was special and full of love & happiness. He became a pro at emptying my drain, thanks to Sully’s instruction and a lot of practice. He also developed a system for getting me back into that compression girdle after my baths. That was a chore! That girdle was so tight, that it cut off my circulation in part of my hip. The side of my hip is numb to this day from that!
The funniest thing I remember is that when I’d be out at a store, especially when nearby other people, I’d be VERY nervous. My butt was very sore, and you’d be surprised how often you bump things with your butt! I never knew until after that surgery! At the hotel, the doorknob in the bathroom was right at my butt-level, and I hit that thing more times than I can count! Anywho, whenever someone would pass nearby me, I’d get so nervous that they were going to brush my butt! It was crazy. I was like that for a while, actually. Even a few months after surgery, I’d get nervous and all butt-protective when people had to brush by me.
A week to the day of my surgery, we went to Dr. S’s office for my checkup (HERE is a link to his picture…yeah, he’s eye candy). He said I was healing wonderfully. He confirmed that the recurring fever was not infection but just the natural healing process. He got all set to remove the drain tube from my hip, which was held in place by one big stitch. I was all freaked out about that, anticipating horrible pain. I lay on my side on the table, closed my eyes, and cringed. Dr. S. was talking away, and he broke in and said, “What are you doing?”. I said, “waiting for you to take the drain out.” Still cringing with my eyes closed. He laughed and said, “Uh, it’s out. I took it out a couple of minutes ago, right when you laid down.” LOL….I NEVER FELT A THING. He & Philip laughed so hard at me. He cleared me to go home, but we stayed for the next three days because of the hotel rate thing.
On Friday of that week, we got the pathology report from my mastectomy. The cancerous areas were, as suspected, spread all throughout my entire breast. I KNEW then that I’d made the right decision…whew. So glad to have that gone. The best news was, there were completely clear margins both on the chest side and on the skin side of the tissue that had been removed. I was clear. This is what they’d expected to happen, but still….what a relief!
We returned to C’view on Saturday, Dec. 1st. The three-hour drive was rough on my sore booty, but I made it. We made lots of stops so I could get out & stretch out the stiffness. We stopped in Biloxi to visit Beauvoir House, the presidential home of Jefferson Davis (it was destroyed this year in Hurr. Katrina), something Philip had always wanted to do. There’s a Confederate museum and graveyard, plus we got to tour J. Davis’ house which was cool. I limped throughout the entire visit. LOL!
We stayed in C’view for a week after that (with my parents), during which time I fully recovered. It was also during that time that Philip went to a job interview at an ad agency in P’cola, and was offered a job there (we were still living in New York at the time). Looking back, I know that our deciding to do the surgery in N.O. instead of NY was just part of a bigger plan. We’d been praying for three years to get to move back South, and of all times, Philip landed an interview in P’cola, AND got the job. He took the job, OF COURSE, and we drove back home to New York to spend our last month there. The drive back up to NY took 18 hours, and was quite uncomfy at times, with my still-sore booty. But it wasn’t too too bad. It was a little over two weeks after my surgery, and I was feeling almost back to normal with just a little lingering soreness/stiffness.
And that’s the end. :D I don’t know why I felt compelled to write all this out. Obviously I remember every detail! I can’t believe it’s been four years and I still remember it like it was yesterday. To anyone who read it all, you deserve a medal. :D

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Another story from four years ago (part I)

11.22.2005 | 8:32 am | Uncategorized, Breast Cancer

Yesterday got so busy that I never made it around to writing this. But November 21 was the day of my big surgery four years ago. It doesn’t seem that long ago. But, it kinda does, too. Nov. 21 was on a Wednesday in 2001, which was also the day before Thanksgiving. Philip and I’d spent the last few days in New Orleans, getting settled in and prepared for surgery (pre-op consults with my surgeon, my plastic surgeon, and the anesthesiologists, and what seemed like 100 other appointments). The night before the surgery, both Philip’s parents and my parents arrived into town, as well.
We had to be at the hospital at 6am, I think. It was still dark outside, whatever the case. I’d gotten up very early, because I had to take a shower using this pink antiseptic cleanser to scrub down the entire left side of my body, per my surgeon’s instructions. After checking in, I was put in a pre-op room. My parents & Philip’s parents came in, along with a pastor from somewhere in N.O. We all just chatted and everyone got a kick out of me because I kept asking the nurse to make sure to tell them I needed something in my I.V. to keep me from being sick when I awoke from surgery. I was about to go under major surgery, one which many women find devastating (but I didn’t), and could expect a great deal of pain upon waking…but I was only worried about one thing: whether or not I’d wake up nauseous/throwing up. My biggest fear! The nurse assured me that they’d be sure to give me an anti-nausea solution in my I.V. She also said it was almost time. So the pastor prayed with me & my family, and pretty soon after, they wheeled me out and I said goodbye to everyone in the hallway. It felt so good to know that not only was Philip there, but so were my parents, and also Philip’s parents. I was glad they’d all made the trip to be with me before & after the surgery.
The nurse wheeled my bed to just outside the O.R., and left me there while she went in to make sure it was ready. I remember vividly just sitting there alone in the cold hallway, thinking, “this is it…”, and getting nervous. It was going to be a long surgery, and there’s always this niggling fear in the back of my mind that maybe I won’t wake up. I remedied the nervousness by praying. I felt peace immediately. Some of the times in my life that I’ve felt God’s presence the most tangibly have been just before my surgeries.
It wasn’t long before the nurse came back and wheeled me into the O.R. It was the prettiest, shiniest O.R. I’ve ever been in–they’d just finished a major building project that fall at Memorial Medical Center, so these were brand-new O.Rs. They had me get up on the operating table, and the anesthesiologist came to chat while he got me all fixed up. I was freezing, and I laid there listening to the busy din all around, while I stared up at the super-shiny, brand new bright lights just over my head. I could feel the fuzziness of the drugs starting to swirl through my head and make me groggy. I had the nervousness I always have just before going under, and I did what I always do. I prayed, and felt that incredibly tangible presence of God with me again, as I slipped from consciousness.
The surgery lasted about 4 hours, during which time I had all my left breast tissue removed (everything but the skin). It was immediately replaced by a transplant of fat from my left buttock. The transplanted fat had to be connected to a blood vessel from my sternum, so they had to remove some cartilage in order to get to it and then microsurgically connect the vessels. Once out of surgery, the “new” breast would have to be checked with a doppler every two hours, to make sure the blood vessel connection was still successful and blood was getting to it. Otherwise, the fat would die and the surgery would be a failure.
I came back to consciousness without opening my eyes. Someone was calling my name loudly and telling me to wake up, but I couldn’t open my eyes. There were several women around me, tugging, pulling, and talking very loudly. They were putting something on me, and it was a tight squeeze. It turns out that was the spandex “girdle” that I’d have to wear 24 hours a day for the next 2 weeks. It would keep my butt compressed, which was to keep a hematoma from forming in the wound. Anywho, it was loud and confusing hearing all those people around me talking loudly and pulling me every which way. One of them was at my head and she kept calling my name and telling me to wake up. I was awake, but I could NOT make my eyes open. I mumbled to her that I was awake. I found that I could barely talk–my throat was raw from the breathing tube that had been there during surgery.
I realized with horror that I was feeling quite nauseated. I told her that, and she said she’d up the dose in my I.V. It helped. Then I realized that I had a tremendously full bladder. I mumbled that I had to use the bathroom, and she said, “Well, just go, honey.” I was like, huh? I told her I REALLY had to go, and she said, “you’ve got a catheter! Just let er’ rip. You don’t have to even get up.” Horror! I’d not expected that. I tried to go, but I couldn’t make myself do it. It was weird! I told her I couldn’t go, and she told me yes I could! So I finally got past the weird mental block and I let er’ rip. Haha. I kept stopping because I still had the impression I was peeing myself.
I was finally able to open my eyes a little, but I still was in an extreme fog. On top of the lingering anesthesia, they were giving me straight morphine in my I.V., so I was pretty out of it. Despite the morpine, the pain started coming to life within me. It came with a vengeance. I could feel some pain down at my butt, but most of it was up in my chest. I told the nurse I was in pain, and she said she’d up the morphine. It didn’t help. The area in my chest where they’d removed the cartilage was on fire with the worst pain I’d ever felt.
It was during this that they let me have my first visitors. I was in the ICU, so only two at a time were allowed. Philip and my mom were the first in. They stood on either side of me and I was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO glad to see them (when I could force my eyes open) and hear them. I could barely get words out- one, because I was in such a fog, and two, because my throat hurt so badly. My voice was small and weak and high-pitched. It must’ve freaked them out. I can remember my few peeks up at Philip and how concerned his face was. I lay there and squeaked at them that it hurt so much, and could they get the nurse to give me more pain relief. I was in tears, but was too weak/groggy to actually cry. Philip went and asked for my nurse and came back. When she came in, he told her I was having severe pain in my chest and needed more relief. She told him that was coming from the cartilage removal, and that the morphine should help with that once it was good and in my system. She explained that they had my dose up as high as was allowed, and couldn’t give me any more until an hour later. She reiterated that in a couple of hours, it would be fully in my system and I should feel a lot more pain relief. I heard all of this being said quietly beside me, but I couldn’t open my eyes. The nurse was so sweet, though. She told Philip she understood it must be hard to know I’m in such pain, and she hated it too, but I was at the max allowable dose and she couldn’t give anymore just yet.
So Philip & my mom just stood there and held either of my hands, as I lay there in & out of consciousness. When I was awake, I felt like I would die from the pain. Maybe this is why I found labor & childbirth so easy to handle…nothing compares to the pain I felt in the ICU that afternoon.
Philip & my mom left and then Philip’s parents came in for a little while. I was so glad to see them. I still think it was amazing that they came all the way over to N.O. just to be there for my surgery. Although they probably came mostly for Philip, to support him.
Later my mom came back in with my dad, but he didn’t stick around long. I don’t think he’s able to handle stuff like that very well. Seeing his daughter in pain and all weird from surgery.
It was evening now and I was starting to feel pain relief. It never fully left, but it became very dulled, so I was happy. It was shift change and I got a new nurse. She was a terror. I had drain tubes coming from my chest and from my butt, that had to be emptied every couple of hours. She was so rough when she emptied them. Ouch. She also would empty my catheter bag, but when she finished, she’d let it drop to the side of the bed. OUCH. She also insisted on turning on the bright overhead lights to do all this, which made my head throb.
Philip came in again around this time, to say goodbye. It was 6pm and the last allowed visit until the next morning. I cried because I didn’t want to be alone. I was also scared to be left to this nurse’s mercy. I told him how rough she was, and he went out and spoke with her. He asked her to be more gentle with this stuff because she was hurting me. She said she would. He asked her to not turn on the overhead lights, but she said she had to do that to see what she was doing. Whatever. The other nurse had never turned them on. Anyway, she was gentler after their talk. And even though she still turned the overhead lights on every time, she gave me a towel beforehand, to cover my eyes. Unfortunately, she was my nurse all through the night, so I was bright-ed out every two hours all night long.
It was a strange night of going in & out of conciousness, high on morphine. When I was awake, I felt like I was flying. I had a few hallucinations. The most vivid was that there was a gigantic (like, 6-foot) hornet hovering at my right side, and I woke up with a yell. Crazy stuff! At one point during the night, I felt so loopy and numb from the morphine that I recalled one of Philip’s favorite Pink Floyd lyrics, from the song Comfortably Numb:
“My hands felt like two balloons.”
They really did! Haha. I was very comfortably numb that night. I laughed at this and couldn’t wait to tell him the next morning.
My plastic surgeon woke me the next morning around 6:00. It was Thanksgiving morning, and he was on his way out of town. He’d stopped by to check the transplant and make sure it still looked good. He was sweet and quiet and was gentle when he emptied my drains (AND he only turned on the dim light to check me by. Hmph to that nurse!). He even apologized for waking me. He said it all looked great and that he’d see me next week. He was leaving me in the care of his partner for the weekend.
I was feeling much better all around. I was hardly feeling any pain, and they were able to take down my dose of morphine quite a bit. I was much less groggy. A nurse came in to give me a sponge bath, and I lay there watching a rerun of SNL and laughing my booty off (what was left of it).
Philip and my dad were my first visitors that morning. The first thing they did was wish me a happy Thanksgiving. We had a lot to be thankful for that morning, for sure. I was able to sit up and the nurse brought me breakfast. My first food in over 36 hours! And it was a big bowl of grits. Yummy! After breakfast, my new (much nicer) nurse told me that I needed to get out of bed and be able to walk to the toilet before they would let me out of ICU and into a regular room. So, she helped me out of bed (umm…ouch. I was SO stiff and sore) and helped me walk to the toilet, which I was happy to use. I’m not a fan of catheters. Walking was amazingly difficult. It was like my left leg didn’t want to work. The incision on my butt was 10 inches long, and a big chunk of tissue had been removed. I couldn’t put my weight on it, so I more or less hopped on my right leg. Nevertheless, they took out my I.V. and gave me my first dose of oral pain medication. After a couple of hours of surviving without my I.V., they said I was ready to go to a regular room.
And this will be continued another time. I’m on a roll. That Thanksgiving was four years ago today.

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We’ve been robbed by a Romanian

11.19.2005 | 8:59 am | Uncategorized, Infertility/Miscarriage, Ranting

Life is so not fair sometimes. If I were God, I’d make sure every Fertile Myrtle out there had to go through at least one miscarriage. Then maybe they’d appreciate their nauseatingly multiple pregnancies and not complain as if it’s such a horrible condition they must endure (notice women who’ve struggled with infertility/miscarriage never complain about the discomforts of pregnancy…we’re just so thankful to BE pregnant. And yes, we want to smack the Fertile Myrtles whenever they complain–and they ALWAYS do!).
No, it’s not me that went through it this time, but it seems like all of us who have difficulty conceiving are also the ones who always have to deal with miscarriage. It’s not fair. It’s a really good thing that I’m not God, huh.

As for other happenings, we’re official credit card users right now. Ugh. We NEVER use our credit card; it’s only there for emergencies and in the nearly 10 years that I’ve had it, it’s never had a balance. We pay cash (debit card) for everything. What a novel concept–that way, if you don’t have the money, you don’t buy things.
So why have we busted out the credit card? Because our credit union has frozen our debit cards due to some fraudulent charges/attempts made on it.
Someone, somewhere, somehow got ahold of our debit card # and the first thing they did was try to withdraw a large amount of cash at an ATM. Our CU flagged this as suspicious, since it was attempted in ROMANIA. WTF! Then a few days later, there was a $200+ purchase made from the same area. Our CU didn’t let it go through, and froze our account. I’m really thankful they were on top of this and acted so quickly, but I DO wish they’d have let us know.
The way we found out was, when I was in Destin on my vacation, I was paying for something with my debit card and the cashier got a message to call the purchase in. He did, and after 10 minutes of pushing buttons, he told me my card was declined. I told him it was debit and it couldn’t be declined, because we had cash in our account. He gave me one of those “I’ve heard that one before” looks and tried one more time. Declined again. I was so embarrassed! I looked like one of those people who’re always jumping from card to card, doing everything on credit. When I was a teller, there were always these people who’d come in to pay their car payment w/their credit card (huh?). When one would get declined, they’d pull out another, and then another, until one finally had enough floating money to pay their bill. Being a teller, getting to see people’s financial screw-ups every day, is what made me decide to never, ever live on credit. Somehow, we’ve always managed to do that, despite our low income. We just don’t buy “things”, unless we actually have EXTRA money sitting around. Yeah, that means we rarely buy anything that’s not necessity, but we’re happy regardless. Whew…I’ve gotten on a soapbox (imagine that). I had a story to record…
So luckily, I had my credit card with me and used that to pay, and then I got out of there. Then I called Philip to ask him what was going on with our checking account. He called the CU, and that’s when they told him about the fraudulent attempts and the account freeze. They said they’d reissued new debit cards with new numbers, and that we’d get them in the mail within 2 weeks.
TWO weeks??? Great! What do we use for money until then? So, since we can’t get to our money, we’ve been having to use our credit card for everything until we get those new debit cards. Finally a legitimate emergency! Haha. Yes, we’ll be paying the balance off immediately once we get the new cards. It’s been bugging the heck out of me all week, knowing we’re living on credit. That’s another reason why we don’t do the debt thing…it’s too stressful with that hanging over our heads.
Thanks a lot, you stupid thief in Romania! GRRRRRR! What kind of scumbag would steal from other people like that? Don’t they know how hard my husband works to get the little money we do have? They don’t even care who was on the other end of that debit card number, or what financial struggles we have. But alas, the world is full of evil people. Somehow, it still surprises me. Again, it’s a good thing I’m not God. They’d be ZAPPED right now. Haha.
So now I’m left to wonder how they got our card number. The only things I’ve ever purchased online are through Amazon or eBay, and a couple of other reputable vendors. I’ve always been very careful about that. But our online purchasing has to be how they got it. So now we’ll no longer be able to purchase online, which sucks. I love Amazon and their free shipping! :(
I hope we get our new cards soon! It’s been a week and a half, and they better get here before Thanksgiving. Wow, I’ve only just realized that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK!

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My DESTINation (I’m so clever)

11.15.2005 | 2:17 pm | Uncategorized, Daily Life

Where do I start? I have so much that I want to remember about my getaway to Destin. I have a feeling this is going to be long, but that’s okay because 10 years from now, I’ll be glad I recorded it all.
Going away for a few days was the best thing I’ve done in a long time. However, it was tough at the same time, for missing Gray. It’s strange how I don’t feel like a complete person when I’m away from him…I NEED to get over that before he becomes a teen and starts spending most of his time independently. I don’t want to be one of those mothers who has no life outside her children. Of course, I have a few years left to be the #1 girl in his life, but still…something to keep in the back of my mind.
I left on Thursday after he’d gone down for his nap. It was surprisingly hard to leave them both - I almost cried. But, once I got going, I was okay. I stayed in east Destin at a condo directly on the Gulf. It took about an hour & 1/2 to get there via the mid-bay bridge. Out of all the beaches in our area, Destin is the best as far as beauty and lots of activities & shopping. It’s also very upscale, so it’s a good place to have a getaway and forget my soooo very NOT upscale life for a few days! Another plus is Destin is super-safe; it has virtually no crime. Of course, as a precaution, I did bring Sparky (my .22 pistol) along, since I WAS staying alone. I always carry it with me when I do any long-distance driving, as well. Makes a big difference in how I feel about the possibility of breaking down in the middle of nowhere.
The condo was perfect! My unit was on the second floor and it was decorated beautifully. I’m a sucker for contemporary interior design, and this place had me drooling. It had dark woodtone laminate flooring throughout, white tile bathrooms, and rich colors on the walls. It even had crown moulding! It was a one bedroom, 1.5 bath and was as big as our house (1000 sq. ft.). The kitchen was small, but décor-wise was my dream kitchen, with all-new cabinetry, countertops, fixtures, etc. I loved every minute I spent in there, and I got some good decorating ideas for when (if ever) we can afford to upgrade our house.
This is the main living area:

This was the view from the living area:

In living area, facing kitchen & hallway to bed/bathrooms:

Kitchen:

Bedroom:

Thursday evening I settled in, and then watched the sun set from my balcony.

Then I went out to dinner at O’Charley’s. I think the manager felt sorry for me (since I was alone), because he came by my table at LEAST 4 or 5 times and asked how I was doing. Haha! Is it not socially acceptable to dine alone? I don’t mind at all. I just sit & relax, and write in my journal.
After some browsing around some stores, I went back to the condo. Then I went out on the balcony to sit and enjoy the nighttime Gulf. I sat out there gazing at the near-full moon and the amazing light it cast on the water and the shore, for around 2 hours. The beach at night–especially on a clear, moonlit night–is absolutely breathtaking. It always has been to me. The water, the waves, the bright moon & the reflections it casts, the stars/planets (Orion was in the east and Mars was directly overhead!)…they move me in ways I’ve never been able to describe. I can never take in these things without seeing God’s handprints all over them. His presence is evident to me everywhere in nature, but boy, did he outdo himself when he created the Emerald Coast.
Here’s my pitiful attempt at capturing the moonlight on the water/shore (it does it no justice at all!):

I woke up on Friday morning at around 5:30am, and instead of going back to sleep, I got up and sat on the balcony to watch the sun rise!

While I sat and waited for the sun to rise, I was wondering at how placid the Gulf was; how the surface of the water appeared so shimmery pink in the early light. Then something out in the water caught my eye. It was a pod of Dolphins! There were 4 of them passing by, and they’d crest every half-minute or so, then go back underwater. How awesome! I can’t believe I caught that! What a prize for getting up early. I watched them come up and go back down, until they were out of sight.

I went back to bed for a couple of hours, and when I woke up, the sun was high and it was almost lunchtime. Here’s a great view from inside the condo.

The water was super-placid that day!
Early Friday afternoon, I went out and explored the outlet mall in Sandestin. Way too expensive to buy anything, but it was fun getting to browse through the stores with no concept of time (nursing moms must always keep an eye on how long they’ve been gone, so this is new to me!).
I came back to the condo by late afternoon, and went out to take my nightly walk. On the beach! I walked east for the first 25 minutes, then turned and walked west so that I could watch the sun set on my way back. Oh. My. Gosh. It was breathtaking. I just walked along the edge of the shore, sometimes in sand, sometimes in the water, while gazing at the sun sinking down into the Gulf. I had iPod with me, of course. Just as the sun had set, I heard someone yell something my direction from farther up the beach. It was a guy I’d seen on my way past there the first time, who was helping to set up a huge sound system outside one of the resorts, apparently for a party to be held later that night.
He was saying, “Oh, look! She has her iPod!” and he motioned for me to come over. Back to having seen him when I passed by before…I’d noticed him because he was a young guy wearing leopard-print Speedos (LOL), and he’d been prancing around like a girl, so my gay-dar had gone off immediately. So, when he called me over, I didn’t have any qualms about going up to talk to him, since he was OBVIOUSLY safe. LOL. He wanted to know where I got my iPod armband, because he needed one for his iPod. Turns out he was a Mac person also, so we hit it off immediately. We ended up chatting for a while about the superiority of all Apple products, and how we wonder why people keep buying PCs and musing as to they don’t understand how simple the Mac world is. He was definitely gay; no doubt about that. But he was really sweet & charming (gay guys are some of the nicest people I know!), and it was fun to talk to someone nice without worrying about him trying to hit on me. LOL. It was a little hard to talk to a guy wearing leopard-print Speedos (they were SO tight and had a huge bulge), but I just kept thinking to myself, “Do NOT look down…do NOT look down…” LMBO!! We said goodbye and I made my way back to the beach outside my condo and sat down in the sand to watch the last of the sunset in solitude.
I couldn’t wait to tell Philip later. I said, “I met a guy on the beach tonight. He’s in his early 20s, nice-looking, and as far as I can tell, he’s single. He saw me walking the beach and he called me over to chat. We talked for a while and he was soooo nice!” LMBO! Philip said he was starting to get nervous before I finally added the gay part. Haha.
Friday night I went out to eat, but this time at a place where the manager didn’t bug the heck out of me. Afterwards I browsed at B & N and Books A Million…could someone just get me an expense account at one of those places? Haha. I also stopped by Krispy Kreme and got me some chocolate-glazed KK’s. (insert Homer drooling!)
I returned to the condo and again spent a couple of hours on the balcony, gazing at the waves & the night sky, whilst listening to tunes on the iPod.
Saturday I spent on the beach as much as possible. It was windy, but warm and comfy. I literally laid in the sand, watching the surf, for hours.

(yeah, that’s my big white hairy thigh…I was too lazy to sit up & take the shot.)
I also took walks up & down the beach all day. I never actually got in the water, because since I can’t swim, I don’t feel comfortable going in unless someone who can swim is with me. The undertow is too strong here, and it was a red-flag day to boot. I did get nice & sunburned. I was hoping the sun wouldn’t be so bad since it’s November, but apparently, it’s still strong.
When I wasn’t on the beach, I was either inside napping or sitting out on the balcony.

That evening I watched the sunset from the balcony, listening to music (yeah, in case I’ve not made this clear, the iPod was pretty much was glued to my ears all weekend).
That night before bed, was another couple of hours of nighttime beach/sky-viewing, set to perfect tunes on the iPod.
Sunday I got up and sat on the balcony for a while, ate breakfast, and wrote in my journal. Then I took a last walk on the beach and took in the last sips of this blissful getaway. I went back to the condo and got ready, packed, and loaded the car to leave. I had lunch at Panera bread on my way out of town–my first time there. We have a new one in P’cola but I’ve never been b/c I feared it was too expensive. My fears were right! But it was a nice place & the food was good.
I headed home and it didn’t take me much more than an hour to get back. Grayson was just waking up from his nap when I walked in, and he got the biggest smile and literally jumped into my arms. *BLISS!* He hugged me and kissed me and made me feel so loved! What a sweetie. He even said, “mmm-MMM!” while he squeezed me. :) I was happy to see him, too. I missed him something awful. I spent the evening hanging out with him - as if I would’ve had a choice anyway, because for the first hour or so back, he wouldn’t let me put him down. He was even on his best behavior for me, at least for the first few hours. Haha! Could I’ve possibly thought it might last?
So the weekend was a strange combo for me. I had a wonderful getaway, and I enjoyed the peace and the solitude…and especially the lack of responsibilities. But at the same time, I missed both of my boys very much, to the point that I actually felt the tug of loneliness a few times, especially times when I had something to say and no one to say it to. Ironic, isn’t it? There is a fine line between solitude and loneliness, and I vacillated between both all weekend long. But it was no doubt the best thing I could’ve done for myself.
The highlight of it all were the hours I spent out on the balcony at night. For all the visual/sensual reasons I described earlier, but also for the pure, happy solitude I experienced there. I got to listen to my iPod uninterrupted, and to me, that’s a dream rarely experienced. The songs I listened to went straight to my soul…something about how they fit so perfectly with the setting/mood/scenery. One of the most poignant was “Come Sail Away” by Styx. Many, many Cure songs…gosh I love the Cure. The Eagles, the Alan Parsons Project (OMGosh, I just re-discovered “Don’t Answer Me” by the APP. LOVE IT! What a flashback to my childhood.), Johnny Cash, Kings X, Bob Marley, Bob Seger, Richard Marx (laugh & you die), Journey….these are just a few off the top of my head.
The only part that sucked was not having a girlfriend out there with me, for chatting purposes. Back in high school, ¢ ’s family would rent a condo at the beach twice a year, and I was always invited to join them. Each night, she & I would take the boombox out on the balcony and we’d sit & talk to our hearts’ content. We’d peek inside every now & then to make sure her mom was still asleep and not eavesdropping. We shared so many things that we could never tell anyone else. Deeeeeep thoughts….LOL! I thought of her each night as I sat out there, just like the two of us did so many times in the past. How I wish she’d been there somehow. I’d have so much to say to her, and I know she’d have a lot to say, too.
Well, on that note, I should close, b/c I’m getting off-subject AND I know this is already rivaling a major novel by now. Probably a good thing, because a lot of this belongs inside my head, really.

I look to the sea…
Reflections in the waves spark my memories…
Some happy,
some sad…
I think of childhood friends
and the dreams we had…
– Styx

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Gettin’ away

11.9.2005 | 11:45 am | Uncategorized, Daily Life, Breastfeeding

I’m so freakin’ excited. Philip’s arranged a wonderful get-away weekend for me at the beach. :) Anyone around here knows our beaches are as close to Heaven as you can get on earth.
This will be my view as I slowly wake each morning:

It’s my gift from him for breastfeeding Gray for nearly 2 years. Way back in the miserable newborn days, when the brutal reality hit that I’d never again be able to sleep in, I told him that I could get through this stage if I could look forward to a getaway at the beach once Gray was weaned…a getaway where I could stay up as late as I want, sleep all night uninterrupted, and sleep in every morning to my heart’s desire.
This is an impossible dream when you have a young child, especially when you’re breastfeeding. This is not to imply that I ever considered NOT breastfeeding just for “convenience” sake…just pointing out it’s quite a sacrifice in the early months, but one we b/f moms happily make in order to give our babies the best. It’s a lot of round the clock work that can’t be put off on someone else, and it was a big adjustment for self-absorbed ME (although I have to say it cured me of that, which is a good thing!). At the time, I was just hoping to b/f for the first year. I never thought it would go so well and we’d both love it so much that we continued for almost 2 years! So my getaway is a little late, but Philip still remembered. I love him so much! He said his doing this was his way of showing me that he appreciates all my efforts to give our child the best, especially back in the beginning when it was a LOT of work & sacrifice. I say, HE’s the best. :)
He did some of his magic and got a ridiculously low rate at a luxury condo right on the Gulf. ME, in a luxury condo?! Wow. It helped a lot that winter rates just started last week. But the weather is anything but winter-like. It’ll be sunny and in the mid-70s all weekend! It’s going to be perfect.
I can’t believe I get something like this, after two years of no breaks (and I mean NO breaks!). It’s amazing! I don’t know what to bring! A book? Or two? Pedicure set? Bubble bath? Music? CDs or iPod? I won’t know where to start, but I do know one thing I’ll delight the most in doing:

NOTHING.
:)

I leave tomorrow!

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Monday, & so far a funday

11.7.2005 | 2:06 pm | Daily Life, Gray Matters

Just got back from gymnastics a while ago (when I was a kid, I thought that phrase was pronounced: “awallago”). Gray had a good time today as always. Today they learned the backflip and the handstand…toddler-style, of course. Which means what they end up actually doing is more or less a vague semblance of the official thing. LOL! He also got to practice his front rolls (he’s good at those), and the high balance beam. He LOVES the balance beam, and does very well at walking it. Neither of us is quite ready for me to let go of his hand just yet, though. The beam is about chest level on me, so he’s pretty high up there. He jumps down, holds his arms up, and says, “Tah-tah!”, which is “Tada!” in Grayspeak. The moms there are all very nice. One is extremely annoying, though. She’s like a gymnastics version of the “pageant-mom”. It’s alllll about her little princess getting everything just right. Or else we all have to stand there and wait our turn while she makes her do it over & over, until she does it perfectly. The rest of us moms are just there to let our kids have some fun and to give them an introduction to gymnastics. Nothing formal, just fun with a little structure. She seems like she views each class as a full-scale Olympic tournament.
I never got to write about last week’s class, because we were so busy that day with Halloween & all. We had a toddler to tattoo that afternoon! :D But the dance & gymnastics teachers had a haunted house set up, and after the kids did their rounds & exercises, they got to go through it. They’d set up gym mats into a maze of walls, which were topped by more gym mats to make dark tunnels. They strung red twinkle lights to light the darkness (spooky!), and spider webs were strung all thru it. The tunnels contained various obstacle course items, like a mat they had to do a forward roll over, a low balance beam, etc. It was awesome! Grayson LOVED IT! He wanted to go through again & again, so we did. Ms. Ketti gave Gray a spooky ghost stamp on his hand (it worked well with his tats), and a bag of candy. Doh! He knew exactly what that was. I tried to hide it from him in the car, but he kept saying, “Coodie, coodie!”, which is candy in Grayspeak. I still wouldn’t let him have it, though. :P Bad mommy.
So back to today. After class we went to Jo-Ann’s to see if a particular Christmas ornament I’ve been eyeing is on sale (it WAS! Yippee! All of their ornaments are on sale for 40% off this week!). The big milestone in this trip was: I let Gray sit in the cart without a cart cover–the first time ever! Now I would never put him in a Walmart cart without it, nor anywhere else that’s busy. That’s gross and, in my mind, it borders on child neglect.
But my thinking at Jo-Anns today was that it’s not a busy place anyway; we were there at 10am, so the cart we used had not been used at least since yesterday, so any volatile germs would’ve likely died overnight; and lastly, we were heading straight home afterwards, so he’d be getting his hands washed soon anyway. Still, I was a little freaked out…but I powered through it. LOL. He even looked up at me initially with a “Wha–where’s my cart cover?” look. LOL
Jo-Ann’s has the most beautiful Christmas ornaments & house décor this year. I wish we could afford to decorate our tree & home like that, but not this year. Maybe next year, or the next. I bought a big blue & silver jingle-bell ball ornament that we’re going to use as a prop in his Christmas card pic photo shoot. I can’t believe we’re going to be doing that soon. It’s going to be really hard this year, because he can run away from the camera! Last year, he couldn’t walk yet so we had it easy (although we thought it was hard!)…we just propped him up on our downed tree in the front yard and snapped away. We’ll see how this year goes. I figured with a super-tempting prop like that jingle-bell ball, he might stand still long enough for Philip to get a good shot.
Arrested Development is FINALLY back on tonight! It’s a one-hour special! Starts at 7pm CST. I’m sooooooooooo there. If you know what’s funny, you will be, too. :P

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Bad ad sales??

11.6.2005 | 9:50 pm | Uncategorized

(first of all…wow! Two blog entries in one day!)

We’re watching Beavis & Butthead on MTV. Commercials come on, and of all things the commercial is for…
the LIFE ALERT BRACELET. WTF?!
Who sold that ad??
Better yet, who actually bought that ad?!
Who was thinking, “Oh, I know a really good slot for the Life Alert Bracelet ad! Put it on during Beavis & Butthead! On MTV!”
ROFL!!
But wait, there’s more. Philip said he was watching Headbangers’ Ball last night, when a commercial for Shirley Temple DVDs came on. LOL again! Nothing appeals to a Headbangers’ Ball fan like Shirley Temple!
ROFL.

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