Long Live the King!

This past weekend, my mother and I drove up to Indy to attend my youngest nephew's high school graduation.  This nephew, Duncan, a handsome, strapping 5 foot 11 lad, will be going to USI in the fall and will have the distinct honor of living with his grandmother and his hot, hip and happening favorite aunt (moi!) for the first year.  This blog entry is not about Duncan.  Although I'm sure there will be several in the future about my new roommate, I just wanted to throw his name out there for future reference.

 

This blog, like many in the past few months, is about toilet paper, as TP issues seem to follow me.

 

Mom and I woke up early on Saturday and hit the road.  We drive up US 41 to I-70 in Terrible Haute and then on to Indy.  But that's about mid-way in the trip and even if Mom hasn't taken her water pill, at least one of us as to wee.  So we generally stop at the Riley exit on I-70.  There is a McDonald's there along with a Burger King, a Wal-Mart, and two truck stop/gas stations.  So whatever our needs, the Riley exit is a good bet.

 

So Saturday, we stop at the McDonald's.  I think I've mentioned before that I, over the past 42 years, have purchased the right to stop and "use the facilities" at any McDonalds anywhere in the world for the rest of my life.  That first year that the McD's Monopoly came out alone earned me the right well into my 30's.  Not to mention the summers when the Beanie Babies were in the Happy Meals!  My point is that I have contributed mightily to McD's corporate earnings, so I do not feel bad about visiting any given McD's and using its facilities without making further contributions to the cause.

 

We go in, get seated, so to speak, when I notice that there is no TP in my stall.  I say as much to Mom and ask her to hand me a couple of squares.  She replies that her stall is equally empty and hands me a (clean) tissue from her pocket.  God bless my Mother and her continuously running nose! 

 

I finished up and washed my paws and exited the restroom to go inform someone, anyone, of the lack of TP because I knew they'd want to do something about it.  I frequent McD's restrooms because I have come to expect a certain level of quality.  Anywho,... I got to the front counter and there was a long line, so I assumed no one behind the counter had time to listen to me.  However, I'd seen an employee obviously taking her break between the ladies room and the counter, so I back tracked and went to tell her.  I apologized for interrupting her break and told her the ladies room was out of TP.  She said, (and here I quote verbatim, as I will never forget her words), "I know.  We ran out yesterday.  You have to ask for napkins at the counter."  She then went back to playing with her phone.

 

I am not generally a confrontational person, so I use that and the fact that I was stunned into silence to explain why I just walked dumbly to the van.  As I got comfy, I started to just be horrified by what she'd told me.

 

Since then, I have come up with a list of things that the manager of that particular McD's could have done in this situation.  The list is as follows:

 

-          They could have put some napkins in the ladies room so people did not have to ask at the busy counter.  Plenty-o-accidents, if you catch my drift, could happen while waiting at that counter.

-          They could have put a kindly worded sign on the door warning the prospective users of the ladies room that they would need to get napkins at the counter.

-          They could have nabbed some TP from the men's room.  Now, I realize this assumes that the men's room has TP, but I'm not in the mood to give the benefit of the doubt here.

-          They could have run across the parking lot to the Burger King and smuggled out some TP.

-          They could have gone to the Wal-Mart, which shared the same parking lot, and purchased some TP, or even wood chips from the lawn and garden section.

 

I'm sure you're wondering, "Rose, what about your return trip from Indy?  Did the Riley Exit McD's redeem itself??"  Well, I'll tell ya.  We did not give it the opportunity.  We went to the Burger King.  And the King did not fail us.  The King had TP.  Long live the King!

 

Back to the Old Grind

I am back at work this week, after an entire month off, and it has gone pretty well.  I've figured out a few things and sort of settled into a routine of sorts.

 

Monday, well, Monday was Memorial Day, so I didn't have to work.  But I did have to think about work and how I didn't have any bras that fit – and consequently, because they didn't fit, they caused gi-normous back pain.  So Mom and I headed out to the far east side of town, (Mom packed a lunch!) and I got some new ones at Sears.  Could have got the size that fit, but the next size down (still a C, thank you very much, Holly!) fit, even though it was tight, so I got two of that size instead so they would last longer.  (So if you see me in a corner adjusting myself, that would be why!)

 

Tuesday, I woke early, chugged part of my protein shake which, let me just say that if you're even slightly nauseated in the early mornings, as I am, is not the easiest thing to do.  Where was I?  Oh, then I set out on my walk.  Now, in our condo area, we live in the building farthest from the road, so my route is to walk to the road, cross it, and walk up the hill to our church and then around the church 3-4 times, then back.  Mom suggested, and I immediately discounted because obviously I know better, that I only walk once around the church, so as not to tire myself since I have to go to work.  As you might guess, I circumnavigated the church 3 times and then walked back home, took a shower, got dressed, ate breakfast while farming, and then was ready to go to work.  Well, let me say here and now, Mom was right.  After all of that, I was pooped and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed.  It was 7:45 a.m.!  Sigh.

 

As I left the condo that morning, I started to wonder exactly why it was that I felt that 4 weeks off to recuperate would be better than 6.  Especially since Steve was going to be on vacation both this and next week.  Sure Carrie might like me to be there to do stuff for her, since Steve isn't there to suck up the bulk of my time, but… pssshhh…  But I went.  I have to say that everybody gave me a very warm welcome back.  But then, after the immediate thrill of everyone commenting on my return and how fab I look, they expected me to sit in that chair and work for 8 hours!  Yikes!  Did I mention I was pooped!?

 

I got through the morning, ate lunch at my desk – by the way, it is much easier to drag a meal, any meal, but especially a 2 ounce meal, out for 30 minutes when you're sitting at your desk and working at the same time – then I took an hour nap in the naproom over my lunch hour.  That got me through the afternoon and then home.

 

The rest of the week has been pretty similar.  Although I have made the following observations:

 

-          Vanilla Boost is the most horrendous thing ever to pass my lips with the possible exception of that barium I had to drink for the pre-op testing.

-          Eating 2 ounces of pureed meat and some generic veggie while everyone else in the room is eating gooey, greasy pizza is not fun.  However, to the people sitting beside me, if you're not going to finish the piece on your plate, at least get it out of my arm's reach so I'm not tempted to rip that pepperoni off of it and suck the greasy, cheesy goodness off of it.

-          Eating cottage cheese for breakfast is much more fun when you're sitting on the couch and trying to fend off a 10 pound cat (Cleo) who has developed a LOVE of cottage cheese.  I think that should count as part of my daily workout routine.

-          Flintstone vitamins are not as fun as I always assumed they would be before I HAD to take them. 

-          I would kill, literally KILL, anyone of your choosing for a big ol'glass of iced tea, sweet or un, but preferably sweet since I'm daydreaming, with a STRAW in it.  I never realized how much I loved straws until I was told I couldn't use them.  And I really miss caffeine.  I accidentally had some the other day and I felt like a totally different woman.  BTW, Memo to the Crystal Light people – don't assume that just because the box says "Energy" that the poor schlub buying it is going to realize that it contains caffeine.  Put the word in big bold letters on the front of the box!

-          If I see that commercial for Applebee's, the one where they're announcing their new grilled entrees and you see the steak covered in onions, mushrooms, and cheese, again, I may have to jump off of the couch and plunge my fist into the tv.  Dear State Farm Insurance Agent - Would my homeowner's insurance cover that?

-          Work would be much better if I could do it from my lounge chair on the balcony with a cat on my lap.  I may bring that up at my next review.

-          Weighing every morning may work for some people (i.e., my mother), but it's just making me borderline psycho.  If that number doesn't go down soon, even just by 1 number, I am going to have to increase my Paxil!

-          I think all 48 of the pounds I've lost so far have come off of my butt.  One would think that that is a good thing, considering the size of my pre-op butt, but…  When I sit in a certain place for too long, my butt gets sore.  I'm thinking I've lost a lot of padding that was nice to have.  Would it look weird if I walked around carrying a pillow to sit on?

 

So in answer to the ubiquitous question, "Are you happy to be back at work?"  No!  That's just crazy.  Who wants to work for a living when they could get up, watch Regis, farm/dig for treasure and/or kill zombies, watch Days of Our Lives, nap on the balcony, have dinner, farm/dig for treasure and/or kill zombies, and go to bed every day!?  People who say to me, "I bet you got bored," they don't know me very well!  I am, however, happy to be back amongst friends and co-workers who I have actually missed.  I'm happy to relieve poor Jennifer, up in the collection department, of having to deal with Steve regarding his spreadsheets and reports and stuff.  Although I firmly believe it did him good to miss me for a while, I like Jennifer and don't feel the need to torture her any more.  I'm happy to have a job where I generally enjoy what I do and who I work for.  (We'll disregard the times in the past that Steve's made me cry as they were hormone-induced.)  And I'm very happy that I work indoors in a comfy office, with air-conditioning, especially since it's supposed to be 94 degrees today and Rose doesn't like to sweat.  So yes, I'm happy to be back.  But I'm going to have to step up my pursuit of a sugar daddy who can keep me in the style to which I've become accustomed during the past month, because, damn it!  I miss Regis!

Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes...

So this morning I had an appointment with my doctor. It wasn't scheduled, but for the past couple of days, I've been feeling woozy, dizzy, clammy, etc. I knew something was off, and after a call to his office, we were told that it was probably low blood sugar. Of course the fact that I only eat 6 ounces a day and none of it contained any sugar other than what came naturally in my applesauce, I wasn't surprised. Especially since I was still taking my Metformin - which is a diabetes medicine, even though I don't have diabetes, long story, don't ask.

First, sipping some apple juice made me feel better almost immediately. Then the doctor ordered a blood sugar monitor for me so I could test it. Mom went and got it and even after sipping my juice (from my sippy cup!) for an hour, my blood sugar was only 76.

So I went to go see Dr. Marienau this morning. First things first. When I weighed, I was down 31 pounds. YEAH! Then my blood pressure was 111/70. Which is picture perfect - and I hadn't even had all of my BP meds for the day! Anyway, after talking to Dr. M, I am now totally off of the Meformin AND one of the two BP meds that I take. I go see him again next Friday to revisit the BP.

Needless to say Rose is feeling very good. I'm still sort of woozy from the BP meds that I have already taken today, but I'll just be careful and watch what I'm doing and how I'm feeling. I'll let Mom drive to Absolute Beauty for my manicure this afternoon. Also, Mom and a family friend who works at my Dr's office both tell me I'm looking skinny today, so I plan on dropping by the office this afternoon to say hi and give'em a look see!

That's it for today. Rose Out!

Second Thoughts, Anyone?

Ok, I'll admit it. I've had second thoughts. Kind of like I might have after burning the only bridge that could get me home. Why? Well, I was in pain, first and foremost. Even when I wasn't in pain, I was uncomfortable. And after I got home, it felt like I was spending my entire day taking pieces of pills every 10-15 minutes, except for the 30 minutes before and after my meals. And the meals - well, they weren't exactly inspiring.

I started seeing a therapist about a month ago, ultimately to help me get through my food issues, but immediately to help me get through the fear. She's a Christian and we talked about how I have no doubt that this whole thing is a part of God's plan for me and how the fears are the devil's way of undermining my following thru. She recommended Joyce Meyer's Battlefield of the Mind and I got it and have been slowing reading it.

Since the surgery, whether due to the pain or the pain meds, my eyes have been having problems focusing, making reading difficult. So the magazines and Kindle that I took to the hospital with me remained in the suitcase. But since I've been home, and since it was painful to sit down and to get up, once I was on the potty, I stayed there for a while. The cats would come in and entertain me and after a day or two, I put my Battlefield of the Mind book in there, too.

One morning after we'd got home, I had woken (??) up in pain, and was sitting there waiting for the pain meds to kick in, and I just broke down crying because I knew this was the biggest mistake of my life and I knew that it couldn't be undone. I picked up the book and read the next page or so, and then prayed. I know, here I am on the toilet praying, but it wasn't too long before I felt tremendously better.

So here we are now, tomorrow I am two weeks post-op. And despite a horrible night (couldn't get to sleep, and what little sleep I got was very fitful - I'm weaning myself off of the pain meds and the Tylenol wasn't kicking it), I'm feeling very positive. I can't sleep on my tummy yet, which helps make the nights difficult. I have no appetite - in fact, I forgot lunch yesterday. I have yet to have a day where I get all of my protein in or drink all of my liquids.

Mom made a very perspicacious observation early on, though. She pointed out that we are intelligent beans and if we're having problems getting all of the pills/protein/liquid/calcium/vitamins, etc stuff under control, how on God's green earth do the morons do it??

As to the food, mom has been outdoing herself. When we first got home, we had enough to worry about that yes, we went with baby food. And other than the fact that the meat ALL needed salt, it was fine. Since then, mom has made (and yes, pureed) pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots, pork chops! It has all been divine! One of my hardest parts of the meals, though, is dragging out the 2 ounces for 30 minutes! That's just crazy... even with the baby spoons. For one thing, I have to fend off Cleo for 25 of those minutes.

So yes, there have been second thoughts, but they are quickly squelched. As I'm sitting here, I know I've lost weight... frankly, my butt is feeling particularly boney of late. Today we are going to drop by my doctor's office and weigh on their scales so hopefully, we'll have good news.

A Stitch in Time

Ok, it is Saturday morning and my surgery was about 72 hours ago.

We got to the hospital about 9:45 on Wednesday after hitting a McD's drive thru so mom could have some breakfast - didn't want her getting too tired or hungry. After all she's got to take care of me!

The surgeon was ahead of schedule, so they took me in for surgery earlier than the previously set 12:45. I actually walked into the surgery room. Everybody introduced themselves and that's all I remember about that!

Next I'm having a lovely dream and someone has the audacity to wake me up.

The rest of the day was spent with them waking me up every two hours to walk, wee and breathe. Mom graciously spend the night with her baby girl because, frankly, I whined. :)

Thursday, the pain meds started helping me a lot and I was able to start taking laps around the ward. They had signs that said that 16 laps equal a mile. I knew deep in my heart that that was never happening, but I patronized them into thinking it might. I also didn't sleep as much that day and was able to broadcast an email out to my peeps to reassure everyone that I was alive. I also started "eating" my "meals" on Thursday. Of course those meals were an ounce of fluid, juice, broth, etc, and an ounce of something very soft with protein in it. I made mom go home when Natalie and Haley left for the evening. I knew that she didn't a very good night's sleep the prior night and if I was going to allow this woman drive me home the next day (although I was praying for another day - despite the cost) I knew she needed a good night's sleep.

I was pleasantly surprised to be told that they wouldn't wake me up to walk the second night, so I'm thinking I can sleep right? No, that stupid bladder of mine work me up every 2-2 1/2 hours because I had to pee and the nurse told me that if I got out of bed to wee, I had to take a lap. Suddenly I realized their evil plan to get a mile out of me just might work. Sigh.

At about 3:30, I knew that if I stayed awake for a half hour, the coverage of the royal wedding started at 4am. Back when I was 12 or so, I was at my grandmother's house when Chuck and Di got married, but I set my alarm and got up and watch the whole thing. Maybe it was because I was more of a romantic back then, or because I was younger and hadn't just had surgery, but I decided to go back to bed.

Fortunately, my ubiquitous bladder woke me up in time to see her walking down the aisle at six am. It was a lovely wedding, then I had to go for another walk.

The doctor came in and told me she was releasing me to go home. I was very scared, but after a very nice pep talk from the nurse, I was ready. So they filled me with a butt-load of drugs and we headed out.

The children were all very happy to see us back, and poor Giz tried his best to climb up on my stomach to sleep, but I think he was satisfied with sleeping on my legs.

So I'm home, my back aches and my abdomen hurts. I took my lortab last night, but am trying to get by today without very much.. so far I've only taken I dose.

I'm tired now. My email's that I've typed from my phone aren't sending. I think it is nap time.
Ciao!

T-2 Weeks

So on Wednesday of this week, Steve (Boss #1) advised me that he'd had the realization that we were "T-2 weeks" and he was getting "nervous."  I wanted to point out that he's known about this for months now and that I was the one who should be nervous, but I restrained myself and nodded soothingly.   A little bit later in the afternoon, he asked me if I knew what the "plan" was for while I was gone.  Now, I wanted to reply that MY plan was to relax on the balcony with my book, my cat, and my phone, but again, I used restraint and told him what I assumed the plan would be, as I had not officially been told the plan, in regard to who would be doing his stuff in my absence.   Steve isn't the only one getting nervous, however considering my previous emotional breakdown about a month ago (which I think was more hormone related than anything), I'm doing very well.  Even with the latest development – a .6 mm nodule was found on the chest x-ray they took during the pre-op testing at St. Vincent's last week.  Now if you Google "nodule chest x-ray," you come up with some pretty scary things, including the Big One.  Of course, I knew immediately that I could eliminate sarcoidosis, because it's never sarcoidosis.  (If you watch House, you'll understand.)  My immediate thought is to freak out, but I said a prayer and I emailed my prayer peeps and since then I've been doing good.  Even my therapist was impressed.   They've done subsequent x-rays and I am scheduled for a CT scan of my right lung for this afternoon.  Unfortunately, it's a Friday, so I have to get through a whole weekend knowing nothing.  Sigh.   But since we are T-2 weeks, I have to start doing things in preparation for the surgery.  First, I have to stop taking my vitamins.  Well, I could probably continue the vitamins and just discontinue the herbal supplements.  But the GNC vitamin pack that I take each day is expensive and I'm not just going to take the vitamins and pitch the rest.  Mental note: go buy some multivitamins.  I'll make them Flintstones chewables, since that's what I'll be taking post-op.  And I have to start practicing my breathing with my "incentive spirometer."  It sounds a lot more fun than it is.  And I'm not that sure that it sounds all that fun.  Hmm..  I'm supposed to be breathing through it 10 times at a time, four times a day.    Then there's the Bucket List.  Have I mentioned this?  When my surgery was originally scheduled, it occurred to me that there were places and things I wanted to eat before my surgery.  Not that I won't be able to eat those things after surgery, eventually, but I won't be able to just sit and eat to my heart's content.  So I made a list and my friends and family have unselfishly agreed to assist me in my endeavors.  We've been to Red Robin.  I was not overly impressed – it was good, but…  When we were up in Indy last weekend, we hit the Cheesecake Factory and it was great!.  Tonight, some friends and I are going to Los Bravos for a nice cheesey dinner with a few margaritas thrown in.  Then Jennifer and I are doing one last afternoon of Yen Ching/spa treatments next week.  The rest of the Bucket List items are things like I want mom's chicken and dumplings one more time, and her chicken and wild rice casserole, and dump cake. Sigh.  Ok, this was stupid, I'm sitting here fasting for my CT scan and writing about food.   Anyway, we are officially 12 days away, assuming the CT scan finds nothing.

Count Down to Surgery

I have returned from another trip to Indy - this time for my pre-surgery testing and nutrition class.  The Lord continues to bless us on this endeavor.  First, He got me in for my psych evaluation the same day that we went up for the informational meeting in February.  Then, when we were able to schedule the surgery, He got us a date only 51 days away, instead of the four months off that we were told to expect.    I have to interject here that I know Dad would have had some interesting things to say about ME having a psych eval… AND the fact that I passed it with flying colors.    Anyway, the trip to Indy.  We had a lovely trip up to Holly's house.  Holly and Duncan weren't there, but Tom and Natalie welcomed us with pizza.  Tom even gave up his and Holly's bed for us, so no one had to sleep on the couch.    I had to be at the hospital on Wednesday at 7:45am, so of course I got there way too early - about 7:20.  Fortunately, it all worked out.  Since I was early, they were able to get me started early and I was able to get out early.  But I get ahead of myself.  First off, they wanted blood, and a lot of it.  Unfortunately for all of us involved, I'm not an easy stick, haven't been for many years.  I get this from Dad… another thing to thank him for!  And right as the nurse was, unsuccessfully, trying for the second time, the hospital chaplain came over the loud speaker and said a prayer blessing us all for the day… which was nice… and then when a second nurse came in to try drain me, the blessing was doing its job and she got all 8 of the vials filled.  I have a lovely goose-egg sized bruise as a souvenir, but still I count it as a success!   Then I got to go do respiratory tests.  I got to breathe into odd machines and receive my first take home gift of the day, an incentive spirometer.  Fun little toy, I get to start breathing into it several times a day to start building up my lungs so as to prevent pneumonia post-op.  Since I am not the best at it and since I do not want no pneumonias, I will practice it religiously.    So then I was off to go have my patient history taken.  I know that Dr. House says that all patients lie.  So I tried to be as honest as I could.  If I lied, they were lies of omission, because I didn't remember ever having an XYZ test before… and hopefully not overly important.    Up until now, all things had been easy breezy and I entertained my escorts and a fun time was had by all.  But then I had to go to radiology.  I knew there were x-rays involved, because I'd been told not to take any of my medicines for the day until after the upper GI.  I did not, however, know what was involved with an upper GI other than there being x-rays taken.   The first part, which was swallowing some crystals and then shooting a shot of water was nauseating, but doable.  The hard part was not burping because I'd been told that if I did, I'd just have to do it again.  So we wanted to avoid that.  Then came the barium.  It was super thick and there was at least ¾'s of a cup of it.  It took a bit of prayer and deep breathing to get enough of it down.  And then she wanted me to take another shot of the crystals because she figured, rightly so, I'm sure, that I'd lost some of my bubbles.  But actually, the second shot of crystals and the water helped get some of that barium taste out of my mouth.  Personally, I think they ought to give you the crystals after the barium.    So she took pity on me and instead of making me stand on the platform and then her moving the platform to a horizontal position, she just made it horizontal and let me lay down.  But then I had to roll over in a circle to make sure my tum was completely coated.  This was not wise on the tech's part because it was all I could do NOT to hurl all that barium (remember, this was all on an empty stomach) all over the machine.   But I survived and got to poop barium for the rest of the day, but you don't want to hear about that so..  The tests were done and it was 10:30.  My next appointment was to see a doctor at 12:30 for a physical and review of test results.  I was nauseous and hungry and I had two hours to kill, but no vehicle to travel in.  My Kindle and I trotted down to the cafeteria, which did not open until 11am and I read until the cafeteria opened.  I got me some chicken tenders, which were nothing to write home about… although one could point out that I'm doing exactly that… and some breaded mushrooms, which were fabulous!!  I haven't had the surgery yet, and I'd had my bloodwork, so I stopped in the gift shop and got some cookies.   I ate and read and felt much better.  I attended my appointment with the doctor and was okayed for surgery – but again, the Lord has made travelling down this road too smooth for me to seriously consider that I wouldn't have been.   Having passed the bloodtests, Mom, Natalie, Tom and I went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner so I could mark another item off of my Bucket List.  My friend/co-worker Shawna waxes so eloquent about this place every time she comes back from Indy that I knew I wanted to try it just once.  And I was not disappointed.  I discovered, though, that it is not the type of place to go if you want a quick meal, but it was very good.  I had Strawberry Lemonade to drink – yummers!, a dish of bow-tie pasta in a very spicy sauce with chicken for dinner – very good and I'm seriously bummed that I had to leave my doggy box in the Burns' fridge, and then for the piece de resistance, I had the Chocolate Tuxedo Cream Cheesecake!  We all got different cheesecakes and tasted each others.  Frankly, I think Mom's Lemon Raspberry Cheesecake was the best of the four.   When we got home, Natalie and I relaxed in the hot tub and then I went to bed, having gotten up very early that day, not to mention having spent a good portion of it nauseous.   Thursday, Mom and I attended an all day class with first a nutritionist to learn about the vitamins that I'll have to take and the water I'll have to drink and the protein supplements I'll have to get in.  It was very overwhelming and we went to Max & Erma's for Tortilla Soup to recover.  Then we went back for an afternoon with the nurse – who basically read from a power point script.  Sigh..  The monotony was broken up by another nurse who had the surgery 4 years ago and she was funny and answered questions I didn't even know I had and we received a prayer and blessing by the hospital chaplain – I cried, of course.  (Hands up if you're surprised!)   Finally we hit the road for home.  The drive was uneventful and beautiful.  The cats were all pleased to have us return… except for Sophie who is still shunning me.  Sigh..   So it was a successful trip.  I'm glad it is over, because I think there was a wee bit of anxiety that for whatever reason I might not be cleared for surgery.  My bucket listing comes to mind as a possible reason!  So now we have 19 days until surgery.  I have a few items left on my bucket list.  And I have shopping to do… for vitamins, protein shakes, and baby food!  Any of the new parents out there have suggestions as to favorite baby food flavors?