clickmom

silver lining!

Grandma was moved out of the hospital today and now she is in the rehab again. Even though the last time she was in this rehab (I'd link back if I had a brain cell left to remember when this was, but I don't) I cried every single moment of her incarceration there because I thought it was the most dreadful place in the world, today my heart is singing because grandma is out of the hospital and this means she is healing right on schedule. The rehab seems like a smurf cartoon compared to the hospital.

What originally lifted my tired shriveled cold black heart out of despair (such a tiny little exaggeration) was showing up at the hospital today and finding grandma to be about 90% herself. She was talking and connecting like she hadn't been since the third day of this 12 day hospitalization. I was so happy that when Boops suggested grandma could get a 10% discount on pedicures for the rest of her life I thought it was pretty near the funniest thing I had heard since lil sis texted me mean things about the scumcle last Tuesday in the family surgical waiting room.

Grandma still couldn't hear a damn thing and she is so used to hearing only me that she doesn't try so hard with other people. When the ambulance guy and gal came to transfer grandma they pulled the stretcher right up next to grandma's hospital bed and loosened all of grandma's sheets to lift her in a sort of bedding hammock onto the stretcher. The guy ambulance driver, who was clearly the older and more experienced of the two asked grandma to wrap her arms around herself to prepare for the move/slide/transfer. She didn't hear or understand. She just sat there with a big "Look at all the attention I am getting" smile of wonderment on her face. Then he asked her a little bit louder to GIVE YOURSELF A BIG HUG. Grandma shrugged like "Well, all right, if you say so..." leaned over to the guy gave him a big bear hug and a big wet sloppy kiss on the cheek. We were all dumbfounded there for a second. It was pure grandma.

They finally moved and transferred grandma, I went and found her there at the rehab later, and she was mentally herself again. I floated out of the place on a cloud. I couldn't have been happier about it all.

Then I am relaxing at home around 9 o'clock tonight and the rehab calls. My heart is in my throat as I take the receiver and physically brace myself for some kind of horrible disastrous news. It is the nursing supervisor and she assures me that grandma is fine but there was an incident. (Oh shit! She better not be biting the nurses again! I warned them, I actually did!) It seems that grandma, after I had left her alone in her wheelchair in her room, decided it was time to get out of the wheelchair and was found sometime later sitting calmly on the floor. Grandma was not hurt. They just called me because that is policy and they asked me not to leave her alone in her wheelchair in her room again. I said I would not leave grandma alone in her room again. And when I hung up the phone I cried exactly two tears of relief before the excitement began to build. Do you know what this means? It means that my spirited little grandma, my spunky little (so what if the nurses used the term combative) 96 year old grandma will not be held down. She is going to fight her way back to independence and back onto her feet and hopefully back into the OFH for a stretch of good health and some happier times. I'm pretty sure grandma is going to be just fine.

grateful

Yesterday I ran into an old mom friend. This woman is the mother of a kid Evan used to hang out with in preschool. Her son, the oldest of three, was very intense even at age four. His needs were mostly eclipsed by the kid in the class he called Mean Evan (my Evan was Nice Evan) and then he went to public school the next year things really began to fall apart for him. I haven't seen this mom in probably over 5 years. She asked me first "How is everything?" and I answered "My kids are great... however..." and I gave her the reader's digest version of all the horrible things that are happening to my family and me right now. When I asked her back she told me this tale where all three of her kids are facing some serious to profound learning difficulties and behavior disorders. She had just spent the price of a decent used car on lawyer fees to not have one of her kids labeled "emotionally disturbed" by the school and she also had a miscarriage the week before.

We talked for a while and then we parted ways and I thought to myself that I wouldn't trade my problems for hers. I can handle mine.

And I did feel like my mountain was not the biggest mountain.

Then I woke up today and I was not in the fetal position with my hand between my legs. I was flat on my stomach straight. As in with both legs straight. As in with THE SPOT all stretched out straight. And when I sat up from the bed I did it without wincing. And I did not need to consciously limit my stride on my way to the bathroom and I stood up tall too. So today promised to be a good day because as we all know, everything is an omen to me, and what better omen than to wake up not in pain for the first time in three days.

So, with a lump in my throat, because I was scared to do this, I went to see grandma. I was pretty freaked out yesterday when grandma was not really communicative and would barely look at me, and would shout out things that didn't make sense to people that weren't there. Today I found grandma more herself and less in some other world. Only it seemed like she couldn't hear a thing. So she wasn't answering me or anyone. She could hear me enough, because I know how to shout deep and slow and make sure she can see my lips at the same time for lip reading, but understanding the nurses was not going to happen. Grandma just looked up and gave them all a big dumb smile. She was so cute about it that they just smiled back and walked right out happy. At least she wasn't being "combative" like it was noted in her charts.

After I left the hospital the scumcle arrived for his own visit. I am not going to go on and on about how annoying he is when he pretends to know to know what is going on, but to make a long story funny, while he was there grandma started to pant, which she does when she gets a pain. She has always done this and has been doing it a lot lately, you can imagine. The scumcle, who does not know the ways of the grandma due to lack of exposure, thinks she is hyperventilating and having a heart attack so he makes the nurse get a doctor by telling the nurse grandma has chest pains. By the time the young resident doctor comes grandma is resting peacefully. The young resident doctor asks her "Where is the pain?" grandma just shrugs. The doctor leans in and shouts "Don't you have chest pain?" and grandma gets all wide eyed and offended and says "Sex with YOU? No!!"

rock on

So, last week I called the good doc and asked him if the blood tests I had taken the week before because I just didn't feel right were back yet. He said they were not complete yet. And he said once they were all in he would call me and we could sit down and go over every detail with my fine toothed OCD hypochondriac comb until I was all as smart as a doctor satisfied, okay? And then he said he remembered one thing and could I hold on a second and then he came back on the line he said that there was one result that he wanted to tell me RIGHT AWAY because it was so serious that I could not be more allergic to this food. He said "You could not get a higher score in your allergy to this food, you have to stop eating it now."

"Okay," I am thinking to myself, imagining jumping off a roof somewhere because how I am going to restrict even more, I don't know, "I knew this was coming, because being allergic to gluten and corn and tomatoes and cinna-fricking-mon and even the lowest of all low vegetables turnips(!) for goodness sake isn't enough, there has to be more allergies, WTF was I thinking opting for the allergy part of this test? I am on my knees from all the allergies already!" But what comes out of my mouth is a sunny "What is it?" and then he says one of the worst answers he could have uttered. Did he say veggie burgers? Nope. Tofu? nah. papaya? too easy, leafy greens? I wish. No my dear friends, the good doc said that I am allergic to casein, which for those you blessed with an allergy free life, is the main protein found in cow's milk. Yup, that would mean there is no more cow's milk for me. No more milk in my coffee (can you hear me crying? LAAAaaaAAAATTE!!), no cheese, no more cereal with milk, cheese, yogurt, cheese, creamy soups, cheese, good salad dressings, organic imitation cheetos (for those special times when I decide snacking is worth the corn headache which ensues), and if I really want to be true to the casein free lifestyle nothing prepared on machinery which is used for milk. And worst of all NO MORE CHEESE. No more blue, no more brie, no more cheddar, feta, gouda, swiss, goat, cow, sheep. Waaaahh.

So, like you knew I would, I officially pulled myself up by the bootstraps (but not before sucking down a whole can of whipped cream and a farewell carmel frappacino, like didn't you think I would?) and went casein free on Monday. (Doesn't everything terrible have to start on a Monday?) Monday was my choice because it was the day after my own birthday and it was, well, it was Monday. Since Mondays already suck why not just add another bad association, right? And you know what happens when you stop something that has most likely (it seems) been dulling your senses for just about your whole entire life?

OMG people, the world just comes alive. It's like going from black and white over the air tv to high def. It's shocking man, and I am not even fully casein detoxed yet! But my already sharp as a hound dog sense of smell? Through the roof people. Here is an example. Putting Josh tonight I was going crazy trying to figure out why he smelled so outrageously perfumy. And then I did figure it out. Josh had pulled out a t-shirt that I had sent off to be laundered at the laundromat last September to wear to bed. At the laundromat they use regular old detergent and dryer sheets and at home I use eco-friendly lightly herb scented ridiculously priced biodegradable and pretty bad at getting out stains, but environmentally conscientious and I drive that big old truck I have to make up for it, laundry soap from Whole Foods which departs very little detectable scent onto our clothes. And 5 months later that laundromat washed shirt still reeked like crazy to my on the way to being casein free nose scent detectors.

If I didn't open the fridge door and stare longingly at all the dairy every day since Monday this new sensory awareness seems like it could be as fun and as some ..... well..... maybe ...... hmmmm. Okay, fun might not be the word for it, but it's going to be an interesting process. I can tell that already.

Oh, and the other tests? I got a peek at some of the results. Guess which one of your favorite bloggers has an unusually high level of mercury in her blood? (fuck me now, seriously?) I am telling you, the fun never ends! WOO HOO! It is so good to be me!

life sucks today I want a refund

Grandma came through her amputation like a champ. I believe she knew what was going on and that her increased confusion of the last few days is her way of withdrawing. She hasn't spoken really, only whispered. Except she whispered "Not my foot" right before they wheeled her away, because I think she is imagining herself helpless after the little toe amputation. I was the only one who heard her say that and man, if somethign had gone worng during that surgery I 'm not sure how I would have lived with the guilt, but she came through cause she is one tough old bird. The really good news is that when the doctor made the cut there was bleeding from that area, which means blood supply, which means healing, which means less chance of post surgical complications. Pray for my nine toed grandma. I am hoping that she'll have maybe 4 or 5 more days in the hospital and then can go to rehab, baby.

Mom had her first dialysis and it wasn't as bad as she was anticipating. Except she is convinced that now she can never leave Florida again. And also she needed several naps the day after instead of feeling invigorated. I have no idea. I just hope it works.

On to me and my sore (new word thanks to Boops) yoni. Basically, it hurts like a mother fucker. I had myself a good long cry this morning when I removed the pressure bandage and looked into the mirror. I was prepared for the scar line and the stitches that will no doubt leave little scar dots along the scar line, but I was not prepared for the big dent in what used to be my symmetrical nether regions. Now I am deformed and scarred, and I took that kind of hard. Now I'll never have a career as a strip dancer. My dreams are crushed. The stitches are pulling and pinching and poking. I can't stand perfectly straight and sitting is worse. The only way to stand is with my right leg bent like I am about to step on something in a most lady like fashion. The only way to sit is with my butt all slid forward in the seat and practically hanging off the seat so that I am neither straight nor bent. Driving hurts and so does passengering. I have to walk with my knees pressed together. My back is killing me now too.

I spent the last couple of hours at the wake of Kitten's father in law.

So, pretty much today sucked and if lil sis had not had come down to be with me during grandma's surgery and had she not kept sending me funny/mean girl text messages when the scumcle showed up and went and sat between us in the waiting room, then it might have been more than I could handle, but lil sis came through and her humor and charm made the day much more tolerable. Also, I still haven't shown you guys a photo of the disposable underwear they tried to make me wear yesterday so I do have something else to look forward to.

despotted part deux

So, me and THE SPOT have now officially parted ways. Young doctor, looks like I could be his mother/oh doctor what nice bulging biceps you have, took it all (cross for your fingers) and now I am stitched up and SPOTless and hopefully cancerless.

When the phone nurse from the dermatologist said they wouldn't prescribe the one single pill for me to take before the surgery I decided (completely convinced myself) that the only way I was going to get through such a surgery was going to be with the power of my own music, which these days is on my do and be everything iphone. Naturally there are NO CELL PHONE signs up all over the place, but I completely disregarded these because if they wouldn't dope me up, I neeeeeded my own muzak. Also I thought everyone I knew knew where I was going to be this morning. And didn't think anyone would call. That was kind of dumb. You know, after the fact. 20/20 and all.

So, Nurse Ratchet leads me and my iphone (which I didn't take off even to talk to her) to a tiny little closet where she tells me I have to remove everything I have on (including the carefully chosen sweater and wool socks which were supposed to keep me nice and cozy during the DESPOTTING) and replace it all with a hospital gown, disposable undergarment, paper booties, and a big 'ol blue hair snood just so young doctor hottie could have no possible aesthetic reason (like my last bastion of youth, my pretty shiny hair) to go easy on me. Anyway, Ratchet left me in the closet with the paper replacement clothes and as soon as I make myself look like Carol Burnett doing the janitor skit, I quickly dash off a panicked text message to the husband who is hopefully sitting there somewhat worried and concerned in the waiting room and then my iphone starts ringing and it's one of grandma's doctors. So I answer, and as soon as I answer the door slides open and Ratchet glares at me all casual and papery and chatting on the phone but I show her the name of grandma's hospital on the caller ID and say I HAVE TO take this call. It is obvious that I am speaking to a doctor about my elderly hospitalized grandmother, so I don't feel all that bad. Until I am lying flat on the table half way through the surgery singing along in my head to the Commodores when the iphone suddenly buzzes not once but twice. A dear friend called me and then she called me again. Ooops. I didn't take the calls, but still, doctor too young to be a doc hottie was hovering over my special parts with an exacto blade. Not the guy I want to irritate at that exact moment, you know?

You'll enjoy the closeted text exchange husband and I engaged in (rest assured that is all we will be "engaging" in for quite some time)

me: Miss me yet?

him: What are you doing?

me: About to get undressed

him: It's much better out here. The Price Is Right is on.

me: Now I am extra sad.

him: What do you think luggage and nose spray cost?

I always wanted a demonstrative guy. It's amazing how he puts those feelings into words, no? He's a real poet. It's a big part of the attraction.

Just like 40 minutes later when we arrived safely yet sorely home and I was getting out of his car and I asked him to reach into the back seat for my purse. I told him I thought the tape that Ratchet had (WARNING: POSSIBILITY OF T.M.I. AHEAD) taped down my "pressure bandage" with tape that went right down to the petals of the flower were tugging on me. And what I might have said was something about "tape tugging my twat" and he asked me if I could repeat that only with a lisp next time. If that's not love, well, then.....

Anyway, first surgery of the week down, grandma loses her toe tomorrow. I am going to request that all family members keep this week down to mere two surgeries. Hopefully they will oblige, but never say never. It's been a long spring, summer, fall and winter, and I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel yet. For now I am just focused on breathing. Well, that and the least painful way to get this damned tape off my girlie bits

winners from a loser of a week

I started out the week busier than usual but always looking out for something inspirational to capture. The weight of what is going on hadn't really fully effected me yet. I was excited to see the full moon rise and managed to capture it on my iphone

And then I saw this on the floor in the hall right outside grandma's room. And I recognized it as one of grandma's pills. And I wondered if grandma had thrown her medicine at the nurses that morning. She can be like that. So I didn't ask. But being there with someone who is so difficult makes me feel very small. Like I hope I can be invisible so no one looks at me and tries to see how I am going to be difficult one day too.

And by the end of her first week in the hospital she started to shut down too. She didn't want to hear that her toe might have to come off.

I tried to find something to shoot today, it's my birthday, but I woke up all swollen and puffy eyed, so no self portraits, and nothing outside the window was remarkable, so I pretty much just gave up. Happy birthday to me, I wonder what time I should go to the hospital. Feeling very sorry for myself right now.

Go to sarcasticmom to see more (less depressing) weekly winners.

still dragging

Introduced the idea of amputation to grandma today. Her reaction was rather frightening. She just kind of pulled herself inward and seemed like an empty shell afterwards. She wouldn't speak, only look off into no where in particular. She wouldn't focus on me or even the kids, who I dragged in because nothing usually makes her happier than to see them. The vascular guy said her chances of healing after an amputation were good, not great, just good. He thinks it is the most reasonable least invasive quickest way back to a normal life way to go. I am sick over it.

Josh's birthday party was this afternoon. Despite my pleas for a bowling party Josh wanted his party at home. So some of his school friends came over. They are very nice kids, I only have one thing to say about them as a group.

ADHD.

I didn't insist that Josh invite all the boys in the class since one in particular has been tormenting him (and everyone else) since September. I just didn't want to deal with an unwanted guest. Once the boys were all here and settled into doing a craft they looked around, noticed that one who wasn't invited wasn't here and asked if he was coming. When I said we hadn't invited him each 6 year old simultaneously exhaled. It was the saddest thing ever. They obviously feared this little nightmare.

Speaking of nightmares, Josh's party was a reptile theme party and last night I dreamed there was a big collared snake in my house. I was trying to figure out how to chop it's head off so I could kill it. Did I mention that a nice lady volunteer from the reptile rescue organization was about to bring a variety of reptiles to my house? What fun party entertainment. Luckily none of the scaled critters got excited enough to urinate or worse on my rug, though the volunteer lady did hold a home made paper towel turtle diaper underneath the turtle. I never knew before that the hard shelled crowd were quicker on the trigger with bladder release than most. I know now! And so do you! Never say this blog isn't educational as well as entertaining.

I am drop dead tired, and also getting worked up in advance since there are only 38 more hours until my god awful procedure. Tomorrow is my birthday. I make everyone breakfast in bed on their birthday. I asked the husband what he was making for me and he said he'd be happy to carry up what ever I came down and prepared. I am quite sure I will have a lovely day, the good vibrations are flowing already.

haiku about trying really hard

I am pulled in too
many directions. I want
to care for many.

Young boys need their mom
I want to be there with them
they need me so much.

Days in hospital
wearing on my soul, tired
wondering, pushing.

People come and go
one stroke, one brain infection,
one crazy lady.

Still grandma stays there
hoping for answers to pain
take test upon test

Still wondering where
I need to be the most this
day. Child of room mate

looks at me and says
"you good to your grandma" and
nods her approval.

I hope this counts and
makes my boys better people
they can take care too.

outta my way

Mom is home from the hospital. I would not know that if I did not happen to call dad's cell phone when they were in the car about to pull into their own driveway. It is very odd to be the kid of parents who forget about you. I have been discussing this with boops a lot lately. She also had negligent parents. I think the sting is even worse for me now that I am a parent and choose to be the kind of parent who enjoys her kids and yearns to spend time with them. I know it's their issue, but really, was I that forgettable?

I am right now sitting in grandma's hospital room waiting for the infectious disease doc to come by. I can only be here for another hour and if he doesn't show up soon I will make a scene. It is almost cruel how long grandma has been lying here waiting. Maybe they thought that the antibiotics would have a chance of helping. But it is clear to me that the pain is only getting worse and more frequent. Pretty much every time grandma moves she gets hit with another wave of pain.

My big plans for the afternoon include making those boys I love so much spend some quality time with me picking up six months worth of devil dog poop from the back yard. See what I mean? I just can't wait to be with them and they are surely going to feel the same when I let them in on my plan. I can feel the love already and the kids are still in school.

update:
The surgeon has spoken and the only answer for grandma is the old chop chop. I'm nauseous just thinking about it. Some really delusional (doctor? nurse?) person (who thinks a deaf and confused 96 year old can give a carefully thought answer to anything) at the hospital asked grandma if she wanted an amputation and she said NO. So they think they aren't doing it. Now I am going to have to find out (if) what she thinks. Also, I have to quiz the surgeon, but I suspect that if we don't amputate now it will only get worse. Do you have any idea how dangerous general anesthesia is for an aged person? I'm freaking out.

Evan escaped the poop pick up scheduled for tonight by misunderstanding my directions to ask some friends of they wanted to get together tomorrow and thinking I said today and hopping into his buddy's car and going home with him. In what I thought was a surprising turn of events both Matt and Josh when offered a "get off of poop patrol if you walk the dog while I do it myself" offer of maternal generosity chose to stay with me and de-poop the yard. It wasn't pretty but now I can rest easy tonight knowing that there will not be 20 pounds of dog manure underneath all the snow Evan tries to eat tomorrow night.

Speaking of snow, our school district cancelled school tomorrow in anticipation of the storm. What is this freaking Georgia? I hope we get an inch. (Imagine shockingly filthy joke about the average penis size of school board members here) Normally I'd be down with sleeping in but tomorrow I am supposed to have my (and wildmom's because we share a birthday!) birthday lunch with the babes and also I have to go see grandma and convince her to go for the slice and dice. Bummer.

And as if it didn't all reek already, I have PMS like you are not going to believe. Get out of my way.

cruisin' in the lame lane

It's sweet Josh's birthday today and I am too emotionally depleted to write about such a ray of light as my Joshie right now. I want to tell his birth story because I want to get it down in words but I also want to be alert while writing it. So I am taking a rain check on it. Look for it here soon.

No news on the fate of grandma/sybil's bone infected toe, the infectious disease specialist has to conference with the vascular expert and then they will get back to me on their reccommendation. It's hard to tell if the super strength intravenous antibiotics are working since grandma/sybil doesn't even know her foot has been hurting for more than today. Growing old is scary people! Eat more bacon!

Speaking of grandma/sybil, she didn't want to wake up this morning when I chose to visit and when I tried to wake her up by telling her that the one who loved her was present her head did a 180, she spewed green liquid and screamed "You're a f**king liar! You are all f**king liars!" When she woke up on her own and for real and said in her normal sweet little old lady voice "What are you doing here?" (Despite the two hours of abuse I had just with stood trying to wake her up every half hour) I told her what she said to me when I tried to wake her and she laughed herself silly over it. Hahaha. Hilarious sybil.

Mom had surgery today to enable herself to be on dialysis from now on. (Bad kidneys!!) She came through fine and the good news is that even though the surgery is a two part process they decided to do the whole thing in one step. They are thinking that maybe mom can have her first dialysis on Friday and I am hoping that makes her feel much better.

They called from the dermatologist's to confirm my genital mutilation surgery for Monday. I bought some nice soft sweatpants, some boy shorts underwear for a non irritating post surgery undergarment experience and have been binging for about 5 days now in the sheer terror anticipation of the big day. I wonder who I can bribe to actually give me a general. Or at least some really good drugs to take 30 minutes before and for 30 days afterwards. I am scared shitless about being awake for this people. I think I might really make a call for some kind of pill. Except the truth is that I am so anti-pill that I wouldn't even know what to ask for.

Today I am wondering this: What do my kids think (Do my kids even think?) when I laugh at all the pot jokes we hear on the stand up comedy channel?