Me and My Big Mouth...

Okay, here’s another hospital happening.

Remember when my brother and I were in the emergency room, waiting on my test results so they could take me into surgery for the emergency appendectomy?  How could you forget, you say?  That’s all I’ve been writing about?  Yeah, that day.

I found out there are rules for all the workers at the hospital.  Seriously.

Some of them are annoying.  Very, very annoying.  And before you say a freakin’ word, like there are reasons for rules, believe me, I know.   I didn’t get to this advanced age by always being a rebel without hitting some boundaries in my life.  But....I digress.

Every single caretaker that came into my room said something along the lines of “Hi, I’m Nurse Ratchet.  I’m here to take care of you.  What is your name?  (as they looked at my name tag).  And why are you here?  I was very polite, smiling as much as I could, because, you know, honey gets more stuff done that's how I rock.

Finally, my surgeon’s assistant, a pretty 4th year medical student named Laura, comes in.  I’ll call her Surgeon Laura.  (names and towns have been somewhat modified to somewhat protect the innocent.)

Surgeon Laura sits down by my bed, with my chart.  She’s all smiles, and bubbly, a beautiful young lady.  “Hello, I’m Surgeon Laura.  I’ll be assisting Dr. McDreamy during your surgery.  I understand you’re from Small Local Town.

I assure her I am.  Then she says (wait for it), “Why are you here?”

I turn my head towards her, somehow keep a straight face, and say, “I’m here for a sex change operation.”

Her face totally turns to stone, and she looks away.  I know, you’re thinking, “Oh, Janie - you did not.”  Yeah, I did.

I turn and look at my brother, and he’s about to bust a freakin’ gut.  I turn back to Surgeon Laura, and she’s still in shut down mode. ( Inside, I’m mad at myself - it’s obvious I’ve offended her.) Me and my big mouth.  I have a problem with that automatic zipper that should be installed in my mouth, oh, yes I do.  

I turn back to Surgeon Laura, and touch her arm.  I tell her I’m just kidding,  She finishes her interview, rather tersely, I might add, and gets up and leaves.  Soon after, I’m in the OR, and she’s teasing me about what I said, telling on me to Dr. McDreamy and the surgical team.

The next morning, at 6:30 a.m., she’s in my room, checking on me. Still about halfway drugged, I introduce her to ThatManILove, and tell him “she’s the one I embarrassed about the supposed sex change.”

Surgeon Laura stops me, and she’s smiling.  She said, "I  need to tell you why I shut down on you yesterday.  Last week, I was interning in a mental hospital, FROM YOUR SAME SMALL LOCAL TOWN, and I sat down by this person to admit them into surgery, and basically enacted the exact same scenario.”

Me:  Really?

SL:   Yes.  It really messed me up.

Me:  Why?

SL:  This person was schizophrenic, and it was one of the personalities talking to me, and it wasn’t joking!!!  It was a very uncomfortable situation.  After I figured out you were messing with me, I got a kick out of it.

Yeah, I can sure stick my foot in my mouth sometimes.  You can count on that. You can dang sure count on that.

Making That List, and Checking It Twice

Next week, I can go back to work.  I’m sort of ready to do so. I’m not a stay-at-home person - I have to be on the go.

But, you know, I could get so used to being at the house!  Though I’ve been recuperating, I have been able to get ThatManILove to do some things for me.

He totally reorganized the kitchen, which has been in a state of remodel for some time.  One of our friends measured the backsplash for stainless steel, and probably be installing the backsplash.  I think it will look amazing.

ThatManILove built our cabinets, and they’re beautiful.  All of them have glass fronts, though, which is sometimes hard for storing grocer goods.  I suggest putting a frost film on the glass, which TMIL did.  It looks amazing, and we may go ahead and do all the cabinets, instead of just the 4 end ones.  The film pattern is called Cascade, and it looks like fine line water drops.  Sweet.

I still am unable to lift things, so tomorrow, he’s pulling all the bins out of my closet and putting them on the bed for me so I might reorganize them.

I may be walking wounded,  but I’m getting some stuff done.

It makes me feel a little better about missing work.

May I? Or....May-or?

At the beginning of my hospital stay, post-surgery, one of my nurses came in my room, introduced herself, and told me she would be my charge nurse for the next four days.  We visited a little bit, and then she said...”I need to ask you something, seriously.”

Me:  Okay.

Nurse:  Will you tell me the truth?

Me:  Of course,

Nurse:  There’s a rumor that you’re going to run for mayor of Midland.

Me:  Me? (I look at TMIL, and we burst out in laughter.) I think you’re mistaken.

Nurse:  No, seriously, that’s what they said during reports.

ThatManILove and I assured her that we were considering doing nothing of the sort.

Later, my brother Scott comes in.  I told him what happened, and asked him what’s up with the rumor, and he said that when the surgery team put me in my first (small) room, my friends teased them that I would have more visitors than the mayor.

We fought that rumor the entire hospitalization - but we were sure treated well!

Today, one of my friends called.  She and her husband own a local chiropractic clinic.

One of their friends was one of the charge nurses on my floor, and told them she had really enjoyed getting to visit with TMIL and myself.

And then, she said, “So, really, when is she going to announce her candidacy for mayor of Midland?”

Lord help me, this one's gonna take a while to die down - at least amongst the medical community.

Slow (Walk, Don't Run...) Recovery

Well, the injured is recovering slowly.

I’ve been walking the mall almost every day, until Monday, when I visited my doctor.  He took my staples out, told me it was good to be walking, and to take it slow.  We went to the mall, did our requisite lap, and went home.

Tuesday, I hit the wall.  It was a miracle if I got out of bed for more than 10 minutes.  My incision started hurting again, and if possible, drained more than it had before.  Like I wanna gross you all out.  I think I need to start drinking some high dollar scotch...a lot of it...then I'll have a good reason to hurt!

After calling my doctor, I started breathing again - the nurse told me that after the staples are out, the wound has to go through another level of healing and that the wound would be “pulling” because it had lost its “support” in the staples.

WTH?  Good to know.  Like I could get out of the pain, anyway?

I could be taking pain pills, but they make me feel like shit funky.  It's just not worth it.

Today, we went back to the mall, and walked even further - hopefully, by the end of the week, I’ll be clocking two miles per day.  I know, that’s not very much, but you do it with an 8” incision, okay?  

No, don’t.  I wouldn’t wish this on anyone!

Thanks for all your support, I’m trying to get back in the swing of writing, and responding.  You guys rock.  Next story will be funny, I promise.

Oh, yeah - Did I tell you all my girlfriends were drooling over my surgeon?  Oh, yeah - they were a sight to see.  He could have told them I was dying, and they'd say, "Yes, sir, anything you want, sir."

Cracked ThatManILove and I flat up.

A Father and His Daughter

As we walked into a restaurant today at lunch, I noticed a man and his daughter sitting at the bar in a local restaurant.  I was just drawn to them. They were sitting side by side, and as Steve and I sat down waiting on our food, I observed them as they talked.  They were sitting so close, you couldn’t have put a piece of paper between them.

The young lady was probably 13 years old, and she was telling her dad a story, something personal she had experienced.  She was very animated, and you could tell whatever had happened had touched her deeply.

Her dad was very calm, and never took his eyes from her face.  He heard every word daughter said, and daughter knew it, with all her heart.  When he started talking to her (and not in correction), she visibly calmed and listened to him - their conversation never missed a beat.  They were definitely in their zone.

It was a very cool thing to watch.

She got up, and walked past our table to refill her drink.  I said, “She’s beautiful!” Steve commented that the daughter might have some attitude, as she flounced by him.  I had a clearer view of her from where I sat, and I said, “Maybe, but I think it’s more “confidence” than “attitude”. She knows she’s her daddy’s daughter, and she’s cool with that - and in her God-given place.  Watch.”  

So, we did.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, this father with his daughter.

"Daughters" by John Mayer

I know a girl

She puts the color inside of my world

But she's just like a maze

Where all of the walls all continually change

And I've done all I can

To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands

Now I'm starting to see

Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers, be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers who turn into mothers

So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Oh, you see that skin?

It's the same she's been standing in

Since the day she saw him walking away

Now she's left

Cleaning up the mess he made

So fathers, be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers who turn into mothers

So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Boys, you can break

You'll find out how much they can take

Boys will be strong

And boys soldier on

But boys would be gone without the warmth from

A womans good, good heart

On behalf of every man

Looking out for every girl

You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers, be good to your daughters

Daughters will love like you do

Girls become lovers who turn into mothers

So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Bury Me in My Hat and My Boots

Late last week, I had a horrible night.  I was running 103 degrees fever, and in terrible pain.  I should have just gone to the emergency room that night, but the pain eased.  Chills stopped.

The next morning, I told ThatManILove I was going to the doctor.  He was heading out to the field, to substitute in for a guy that needed a day off.  I told him to go on, and promised I would call my brother Scott if I needed a ride, or anything.  TMIL left around 4:30 that morning.  

I got up, took a shower, fixed my hair and put on makeup, and called my brother.  He assured me he was coming to Midland and would clear his day for me “just in case.”

I went to my office to collect my computer, since I was working on a project.  And everything started again.

I drove straight to my personal physician, who diagnosed :  appendicitis. He called the emergency room, I drove to my house, and Scott met me there.  We went to the hospital.

Because of my level of pain, they immediately put me in a patient room.  They got me comfortable, gave me drugs, and I settled in for a long wait while they ordered tests, started i.v., and asked a million questions.

At some point, I had to go to the bathroom.  Since I was on drugs, a nurse had to walk me to the bathroom down the hall, and back to my room.  

I came in, looked at Scott, and said, “These drugs must be some good shit.”

Scott:  Why?

Me:  I kid you not, as I was walking down the hall, I saw a guy all gowned up, with his stuff all hanging out, and...he was wearing a cowboy hat.

Scott, laughing:  Seriously?  His cowboy hat?  He’s wearing his cowboy hat with a gown?

Me:  Yeah, you might be a redneck stuff, huh?  I dunno.  It may be the drugs.  But will you go look?  (at this time, he would do freakin’ anything to stop me from hurting and to make me laugh - which, by the way, hurt just as much.)

Scott goes out of the room, and shortly comes back with this killer grin.

Scott:  Yup.

Me:  I’m not hallucinating?

Scott:  Nope.  And....

Me:  What?

Scott:   He has on his cowboy boots, too.

I had to call for more drugs.  Yeah, baby.  I’m from Texas.

Needless to say, this story has been told over and over again post-surgery.  What a way to heal, huh?

Ouch.

Operation Blog Fodder - or An Operation IS Blog Fodder

Sorry I’ve been away from blogging, but I have a good excuse.  Oh, sure, she says. 

I've been out doing research for more blog fodder...as if I needed any.

Last Wednesday (if my mind is working right) I had to have an emergency appendectomy.  Oh, yes, I did.  If MiVidaLoca wasn’t loca enough, I had to add that milestone to the route.

I finally got out of the hospital on Monday.  I will have two weeks off to recover, and yeah - it was major surgery.  I was shocked.  I thought an appendectomy was a lot like going to the mall.  In, out, over, done.  Wrong.  So very wrong.

I’m doing well, and was totally surrounded by friends and family, and have been loved on more than a person deserves in one life.

Lots of funny stuff happened, I’ll try to remember it all and put it down.  

For those of you who knew what was going down, called and sent cards and e-mails, thanks so much.

Life is good..and my body hurts.  But I forgot, this is a no-whine zone.  Have I told you ThatManILove rocks?