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Boobies on Parade

17 Apr

Lying in bed this morning I was chatting with Abe & we were talking about Baby. Not a big surprise since right now that’s the biggest thing going on with us. Baby Fred was busy showing off & making known how strong s/he is.

Of course I got to thinking about what it’ll be like after Baby Fred is born & we go about our lives. For some reason the idea of going out to eat & needing to nurse popped into my head. Now I don’t have a problem with women breastfeeding in public…I was breastfed as were all my siblings. I’ve seen tons of women do it in every type of public space. It’s a very natural & ordinary event to me. Now here comes the but….

I think there are women who abuse the idea of breastfeeding. They whip out the tit & parade it around for the world to see while touting their “right” to nurse their child. Hey you have every right to nurse….you do NOT have the right to wave your milk-laden udder in the faces of every person within the line of sight & then complain when a) they stare or b) they ask y0u to cover up a bit. Seriously if you think popping out a boob in the middle of a restaurant isn’t going to attract some looks you’re out of your ever-loving mind. I’m not saying you have to slink away into a dark corner & hide under a giant tented blanket. I do think that a bit of propriety, some semblance of modesty, is in good taste.

Where did all this ranty-ness come from you ask… well quite simply from this news story. It all started on Easter Sunday when this woman nursed her child in a busy restaurant. I’ll let you read the story rather than rehash it here. Basics are she & her family were asked to leave. She claims it was because of the breastfeeding…the restaurant claims it was because her male companion was loud & verbally abusive to employees.

Now I’ve eaten in the restaurant in question. In fact I’ve been there with my sister-in-law Anne, her 2 kids & her husband. At the time the youngest E was nursing. He got fussy & needed to be fed before we left. So Anne (who is far more modest than I) proceeded to breastfeed right there in our booth. No fanfare, no big production & no controversy. She simply took care of business & that was that. In fact we’ve been in restaurants all over the place where E needed to eat & there was never a problem. Nobody got offended, pitched a hissy fit or asked us to leave.

Why? It’s very simple. Anne simply didn’t feel the need to flip her shirt up to her chin, expose her entire breast & create a scene where she drew attention to the moment. Granted there were people that noticed. I know that employees of the various establishments saw, in fact many times a waiter/waitress would come by the table to see if we needed more service or to deliver the bill.

Basically I don’t see a reason why there has to be such a brouhaha about the whole issue. Women have breasts, women with infants tend to breastfeed. Get over your feminist inclinations to force everyone to recognize your “wymynpower”. Just take care of your kid, keep yourself modest (I’m not talking burqas here, but maybe a receiving blanket or a burp cloth) & get on with life. I can guarantee you there are a damn sight more important things than your boobs that need attention in today’s society. If you really need to put your boobies on parade head on down to Mardi Gras.

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Posted in Baby Stuff, Musings, Patently Ridiculous, What's in my Head

Request Denied x4

02 Oct

I was going to post something I started last night but my day has just hit the wall & is splattered like a gruesome deer vs car accident. Because I’m too depressed to even function well today I’m going to rant about something for a bit & will make it up to all you fine readers by posting the other stuff later. I promise it’s good & fun.

So after being in the hospital in August I filled out a giant amount of paperwork to try to get approved for MinnesotaCare (the health insurance through the state…I’d pay a much smaller premium etc than what I’d pay if I had insurance through my job) so that my hospital stay would be covered.

Today I got not 1 but 4 rejection letters (total I have received more than 6) saying that I do not qualify to receive help from the program. I won’t even go into how horrible I feel getting 4 rejection letters….I didn’t get turned down by that many boys in all of my single life (of course I didn’t date any boys before my adorable husband but that’s a different matter).

What pisses me off to no end is that I don’t meet the income requirements for the program. I, in fact, make too much money. That’s right….me, a lowly receptionist who makes $9.50/hour at a 32 hour a week job & the sole breadwinner in the family right now, I make too much money. After the 401k deductions, the federal taxes, state taxes & social security I take home less than $1200 a month. Out of that amount I must pay rent, insurance, utilities & food. If I’m lucky I can also afford fuel for my Jeep. I was offered health insurance through my job…if I took that option by the time my portion of the premium was paid I would take home less than $100/month. I looked at getting health insurance on my own once upon a time when Abe was employed at a great job….I was denied that for reasons I won’t go into here.

While the whole country is bitching & moaning about everything from Roman Polanski to the Olympics to who knows what else and fighting each other rather than saying, “We have to do something to fix healthcare so let’s put aside who’s right & who’s left and do the job we were hired to do”….I’m staring at a pile of medical bills, the upcoming rent & the stack of rejection letters (including Abe’s job hunt rejections). Explain to me why a 15 minute consultation (without the actual exam) with a gynecologist costs $245! All she did was sit on my bed & tell me there was nothing wrong with me. I’m sorry but that’s damn ridiculous!!!!

Insurance companies take tons of blame for the cost of healthcare….and I’m not saying that they are without culpability here. I do think that if hospitals weren’t “for-profit” businesses things would certainly be better. When healthcare facilities became focused on turning a profit, pleasing shareholders & stopped focusing on treating the illnesses (not the symptoms) of the population of this country that’s when it all went in the toilet. I’m fed up & angry…..I don’t have the solution but someone out there must. I’d like to know what it is. Oh & if you are thinking about coming here & telling me I should get a higher paying job, have Hubby get a job dealing meth & “do whatever it takes” to afford health care then I’m telling you right now where you can put that comment. I work hard & Hubby works harder trying to make money….too bad with our current system no amount will ever be enough.

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Posted in Patently Ridiculous, What's in my Head

All Signs Say “Huh”?

09 Sep

I’m going to tell you a little tale about a girl, the boy she loves, the job she has, the commission he is given & the villian who tries to dash their hopes & dreams.

This girl, Lin is an average looking girl with glasses. She loves Troy, a boy who works hard with his hands to provide for their life together. She works as an office girl: answering phones, greeting customers, writing letters & filing papers. He is a finish carpenter by trade (although he’s been out of work for a while) & a furniture maker. They live quite happily on a little acreage surrounded by giant pine trees with their dogs. It’s a mostly happy life filled with all the usual ups & downs.

One day Lin’s boss asks if Troy would be able to create a sign to hang on the front of the building. Lin says yes & her boss begins the long process of getting a design approved. Once the inital design is approved by Lin’s boss & also the bank that shares the building (the bank has to be in on everything as they think the world revolves around them) Troy gets to work. He spends many hours in his shop selecting the proper pieces of lumber & planing them down into smooth boards. Then Troy joined the boards together to make the signs. After months of waiting for a decision from the bank (they were given the task of choosing a font for the words) Lin made a decision. She urged the two businesses to use the same font as their logos– this was met with a great deal of surprise as it had not occurred to anybody else that this was an option. Lin & Troy had the local print shop make up the letters in the appropriate size & soon the letters were ready to be routered into the signs. Before making anything permanent Troy arranged the paper letters on the signs, took pictures & sent the files in for approval. After a month of waiting the bank finally reached an agreement (after much discussion & a vote of 3-2) & Troy was able to begin the task of actually putting the letters into the wood. During this process Lin asked what color the letters & signs should be. Nobody responded…but Lin was persistant & finally got the okay to use a nice forest green color for the letters & the rest would be left natural with a clear protective coating.

After months of work the signs were finally ready. Troy had worked many hours & carefully planned the project. He had made certain that each step was approved before continuing. Over all the project took 6 long months but looking at the finished product Lin & Troy were proud of the work. Since it was close to the end of summer so Troy made sure he got the signs mounted on the front & end of the building. He got it done just days before the town would be full of people for the annual town festival. It was hard work too. The big sign for the front of the builidng weighed in at nearly 300 pounds.

The day after Troy hung the signs he & Lin stopped by the building to deliver the invoices for the signs. When they arrived they saw 3 people standing at the front entrance looking up at the sign. Before getting out of the truck Lin said to Troy, “I’ll just bet they are complaining about something. You know how they are…if it wasn’t their idea or they didn’t do it then something must be wrong with it.”

Lin was right. As she walked into the building the people standing outside were busy trying to figure out how to “improve” the signs. When Troy came back from fueling up he walked right in blissful in his state of being totally unaware of what was waiting. It didn’t take long until this was shattered by multiple people suggesting ways to improve the signs to make them “pop” more. (One of the suggestors had been watching many home improvement shows on cable television.) Angered by the lack of appreciation at delivering a product that was exactly to the specifications requested Troy & Lin left and swore that if that’s how Troy’s hard work was going to be treated they would take the signs back.

The next day Lin had to work & she was prepared to do battle for the boy she loved. It made her feel sad & angry to see Troy’s hard work dismissed so easily. The two businesses had asked for signs that matched the log building that housed them. They wanted something nice yet not too modern so that it didn’t look incongruous with the surroundings. Troy had obliged with a beautiful wooden design…now the same people who commissioned the work were saying it wasn’t at all what they thought it would be. When Lin’s boss arrived that day he immediately brought up the signs. Lin was cautious & curt with her answers at first. Finally she told her boss how upset & hurt Troy had been at the seeming disregard for all his hard work. Lin said that it was beyond rude to treat someone in that fashion. How would he feel if after putting in hard work to create something based on a vague design there was nothing but criticism? Lin’s boss thought about that & agreed that the presentation of questions & suggestions could have been handled in a nicer manner. Lin also let it be known that Troy was so upset he had insisted on working the night before to correct some minor alignment issues so he wouldn’t be subjected to more opinions on what wasn’t “right” with the sign. After more discussion Lin’s boss said that he thought the signs were actually quite nice & that the craftsmanship of the signs was indeed very good. While there could have been some things done differently with the design it wasn’t anything that was critical to the appearance & that next time Lin’s boss would have a better idea of what to ask for when having a sign made.

Lin passed all of this on to her beloved Troy & the two of them felt appeased. They set off for a long weekend content that the drama had been resolved. Little did they know what the next week had in store for them. It was just as well they didn’t because it would have ruined the relaxing weekend in the country. After the weekend Lin went back to work & Troy went back to his shop. Their lives fell into its regular rhythm. Lin stopped in to ask when they could expect the payment from the bank for their portion of the signs. It was with great dismay & anger that Lin learned the bank president had made it known that the sign invoice was not to be paid until the owner of the bank (and Lin’s office) approved the signs. Lin was shocked & nearly in tears…how could she pay the bills? The rent was due and Lin had counted on that payment. With Troy essentially unemployed her small income wasn’t enough to take care of everything. Troy’s work on the signs & some upcoming projects were their only hope of making it. Lin’s mind raced as she tried to adjust to the news & not cry right there. After a moment she looked at the lady who had reluctantly shared the news. ”Please let Prez SL know then that I will not be paying my rent until the signs are approved”, Lin bit the inside of her lip to keep her voice from cracking. Finished with her errand at the bank Lin stalked across the hall, past her desk & into her boss’s office. She explained the dilemma that she & Troy were now in. Lin’s boss was so pissed off when he heard that the bank was refusing to pay on something they had approved already that he marched over to the bank. Unfortunately the prez was with a customer but Lin’s boss did talk to the VP & came back reassuring Lin that the bank would indeed pay & in a timely manner. Lin felt a bit better that she had more people in her corner. The longer Lin thought about the matter the more steely her resolve became. She was risking not only her job but also her home going toe to toe with the bank president. Of course when weighed against the hurt Troy would be caused if the bank got away with refusing to pay Lin knew that nothing was too great a risk….

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Posted in I AM, Oh WOW!, Patently Ridiculous, Story, The Life We Lead, What's in my Head, Work/Job Stuff

A Cornucopia of Crap or I’ve Had One of THOSE Days

28 Aug

Let me start of with a warning for all my gentle readers. I’m cranky today…I have a list of things I want to complain about, whine about & generally rant about so I’m going to vent my spleen here for a bit. Feel free to tell me to piss off or add your own list of irritations in the comments section. A special note to all the men out there…this may include but is not limited to complaints about the following: my hair, my skin, “that” time of the month, how my clothes fit–especially my jeans, how much bras piss me off & more “wimmin’s stuff”. If you feel you hear too much of this at your house then I say *blows raspberry* “Jog On”.

Now to business–first let me just say “Thanks body” for deciding to start my day off with cramps & all the other fun stuff…it was just what my Friday morning needed. My day wasn’t complete until then so good job & keep up the good work. Not to mention I was in a decent mood…woke up on time, got ready (even had the perfect outfit already in mind) & was out the door for work when I was supposed to be.

Oh yeah, work…let’s see it was a balmy 55 here today with no sun, wind & rain. So of course it makes sense that the air conditioner ran all day long (I’m not even close to joking about this). I was prepared though…I wore a long sleeve shirt (new, lovely dark orange color with a cool design) with a shirt underneath, blue jeans & sandals (it’s still August people I can’t wear my wool socks every day…I have a great pedicure right now). I did get to try out my new heated footrest…AWESOME. I will be very happy to have that to heat my tootsies when winter comes. But back to the air conditioning…it ran all day. It was like sitting in a meat locker. Lunch time finally arrived so I headed home where I got the fun task of trying to determine why we have no cell phone service.

Of course finding out why I had no service required a call to Sprint…now Sprint & I have an understanding–I use their network ‘cuz it works here, I have a great plan & they don’t charge me too outrageously & in exchange I don’t ever have to deal with their customer service. So today I dialed *2 on my phone expecting to get Sprint’s customer nowyou’reinhell&we’lldoourbestnottosolvetheproblem service line. Wrong–I got Verizon instead. They were very polite in telling me they couldn’t assist me with my problem. I said I understood & hung up. I then dialed Sprint’s customer service directly…this got me to a young lady who proceeded to tell me she couldn’t hear me (DUH! I have like no bars which is why I’m calling) and get very snotty when I asked her to repeat a question a couple times. When I answered the question & she aske me to repeat the answer 10 times I got shouty. I’m standing in the middle of my driveway with the speaker phone on trying to get some signal & shouting at the phone. She finally transferred me to some “dude” with tech support. Ha! he couldn’t provide athletic support the dumb jockstrap… after explaining my dilemma I asked what he could do to help. He responded by saying that I was in a no coverage area & there was nothing he could do. With the patience of St Christopher & using the vocabulary of a kindergarten teacher I explained once more how I had service yesterday (and 3 preceeding years) but when I woke up this morning there was no service. The guy asked if I was in the same place as yesterday…Holy grief! I had already told him at least 3 times that I was at my house…and since my house didn’t grow legs & walk someplace in the middle of the night there was no reason why I should be in a no coverage area. We went around in this same mind-numbing circle another 600 times…then he tried to sell me a signal booster (Upfront cost of $100 with a monthly cost of $10/line). That took me from shouty to stabby…finally he transferred me to the Level 2 tech support. There a lovely woman helped me in finding the problem. During the previous night’s thunderstorm a tower had gone down & wasn’t working. She very nicely & quickly set up a ticket for the outage & offered to text me the number so I had a reference should I need to call back. In a matter of 5 minutes I was off the phone secure in the knowledge that Sprint has 1 competent person working there.

Of course I didn’t get to eat lunch (no big deal as I’m on the outs with food which means I’m back on speaking terms with my bathroom scale. I haven’t spoken to the scale in 3 years! Yesterday in a fit of insanity I stepped on & was rather happy to see how low the number was. I then went to the WiiFit for confirmation. WiiFit gave me a much higher number so I’m not speaking to it for a while.) & barely made it back to the meat storage office on time. My afternoon was filled with the thousand details that make up my job…all of them tedious & dull. Of course that didn’t last long as one co-worker managed to find a rogue anti-spyware program that quickly installed itself & changed the registry so that removal requires Herculean feats of strength (hmmm….feats of strength…too bad I didn’t get a Festivus miracle). Absolutely not blaming this on the co-worker. She didn’t stand a chance since this damn thing got past the firewall, the anti-virus (which it disabled) and the anti-allkindsofnastycrap program that we keep faithfully up-to-date. I’ll probably go in on the weekend to finish fixing that wonderful bit of heaven.

Oh and before I forget–why can’t I have hair that looks good? It can look great but the second I step out of my bathroom it freaks out & looks like I did it with a fork. I won’t even go into the fact that I had better skin at age 16 than I do now…and as for my jeans well I’ve got no complaints there right now. Of course that’s ‘cuz I’m down nearly 3 sizes (woo hoo for the no eating ‘cuz my gallbladder hates me).

Well that about wraps up my ranting for the day…thankfully the vicodin I took for my cramps finally kicked in so I might be able to sleep (after I take my other med which is seriously messing with me…the other night I dreamed I was living in the 16th century, I was locked up in a dungeon (not the cool fun kind either) and someone had taken my baby, cooked it in a pie & tried to feed it to me. Let me tell you that will wake you bolt upright in bed at 3am.) *le sigh* As I said earlier…feel free to comiserate with me. I love ya readers & will be posting something that’s hopefully more fun very soon. Suggestions are welcome.

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Posted in I should be in therapy, What's in my Head

The One Where I Go to the Hospital–Final Chapter?

23 Aug

When last we were together our heroine was cruising along on a cocktail of pain meds & sedation drugs. Snowmen were being annihilated by her ever efficient flicks (‘cuz let’s face it snowmen are creepy…with their hollow black eyes & that inane empty smile).

Meanwhile the doctors were still stumped as to what was causing all the pain. After a battery of tests (all of which came back normal–see it’s a medically proven fact that I’m normal) and no answers I was more than a little upset. Not to mention that nobody bothered to tell me what the test results were. One of my nurses was super great (all of them were so nice to me) and filled me in on the parts she knew so I had the barebones idea that nothing big was showing up in the test results. Since there didn’t seem to be any answers the doctors (I had 2 surgeons, an internist, a gastroenterologist, an ob/gyn & her med student and a general physician) came by my room every day to see how I was feeling. This mostly consisted of asking how I was feeling (horrible & in pain) & then probing & pushing down on my right side asking if it hurt (Of course if bloody well hurts…holy grief that’s why I came into the ER in the first place. The dull aching pain from my rib cage to my hip coupled with the sharp stabbing pains in the area of the rib cage).

What did they think I was going to change my mind? Did it look like I was having fun?? Okay, I’ll admit that for the first 15-30 minutes after getting a brand new dose of Dilaudid I was pretty happy. Seriously with that stuff you could do whatever you wanted to me & I wouldn’t have objected….well I might have objected but probably not very hard. In any case Thursday was a day of waiting. I was waiting for the second surgeon to look over my charts & then visit me. It never happened. I spent the day drifting in and out of consciousness….I was so tired! Abe sat with me and when I was awake we talked, watched some telly & played on the interwebz. I was feeling pretty dejected by the time Abe left on Thursday night. We talked it over & agreed that if something wasn’t decided by Friday that I was checking out & going home.

Friday dawned with me in a stupor. A week of fitful sleep & much poking by nurses, aides & doctors left much to be desired. We waited all day for the second surgeon to come visit. In fact we waited most of the day for the general physician to visit. By the time they both showed up I was in probably the worst pain I’d had all week. Still they both examined me (by that I mean asked how I felt & then poked me where it hurt) & then decided that since there was no solid conclusion to why I was in pain etc that they would send me home with some prescriptions. So on Friday evening the nurse gave me an extra dose of pain meds, removed the IV & wheeled me down to the entrance. I had just spent 5 days in the hospital (without insurance) and the only thing I had to show for it was a hospital bill that I’m terrified of getting in the mail.

Thus ends the tale of my week in hospital. Putting the events to screen here makes me even more aware of how irritated I am that I have no answers. While the doctors did acknowledge that maybe my gallbladder isn’t functioning as well as it should they still don’t believe it’s causing the problems I’ve described. So I’m doing the best I can with what I know. I’m careful to eat very little & very specific kinds of food…like I can have lean meat (which I try to stick to anyway) or a chicken breast, I can eat Cheerios. I do know that if I cut out all the fat in my diet that I’m just as likely to have a gallbladder attack as I would if I ate a pound of bacon. The research I’ve been doing says that even with surgery I only have a 60% chance of feeling better. HA! No thanks, I think I’ll try something else first. I don’t mind changing my diet more…it’s something I need to do anyway. What I do mind is the idea of never enjoying food again…so I’m being more careful but allowing for little indulgences. I’m searching out alternative medicine such as acupuncture & acupressure along with stuff I may not have discovered yet. Modern medicine seems to be more about treating the symptoms (my pain) than eliminating the cause of it. Not to mention the cost of modern medicine. I’m not saying that doctors shouldn’t be paid well. I am saying that it’s beyond outrageous that a consultation with an ob/gyn that lasts less than 20 minutes should not cost $245. Seriously, that’s the one bill I already received….she spoke to me for less than 20 minutes & worked in a quick pelvic exam while she was at it & for that she gets $245. I’m not including the cost of any tests (mostly because she didn’t give me any) or lab work.

An side note to the hospital stay…I wish someone would have told me that I would feel like grim death after I left. It doesn’t seem right that I felt even worse when I left than when I went in. Saturday I did nothing but sleep with the odd trip to the bathroom thrown in. It took every ounce of strength I possessed to walk the 15 feet from my side of the bed to the bathroom & back. Sunday wasn’t much of an improvement… I slept through my nephews 4th birthday party. I’m feeling more like myself now…still with the pain but I choose to ignore it the best I can. What the future holds is anybody’s guess…right now I’m trying to get out & enjoy what’s left of my summer.

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Posted in Oh WOW!, Out & About, Patently Ridiculous, What's in my Head

The One Where I Go to the Hospital III

22 Aug

On the last episode of “When Gallbladders Attack” I was just getting back to my room from the hida scan. We shall pick up when I arrived back in my room.

Once back in my room I was given more water (so delicious & soothing when your mouth feels like you’ve licked pavement) and promised ginger ale. I was without my IV at the time since the one that I’d had put in on Monday was very painful & my hand and arm had gotten quite swollen. After a few minutes a member of the IV team came in to start a new IV for me. She did a great job & got it in on the first jab.

I don’t really remember much else except that I got a visit from my brother-in-law Pete & his family. As always it was great to see them & so kind that they came to check on me. I got a lovely bouquet of roses from them which brightened up the institutional feeling of the place.

my bouquet of roses while I was in hospital

After my visitors left (I so enjoyed seeing them but having that many people in the room was a lot of work. It’s hard to keep to small boys (one age 4 and the other age 10 months) entertained at the best of times…it’s even more difficult in a hospital.) I think I slept a little. My memory starts to get a little fuzzy about details from this point on. I do know that Abe leaving was just as difficult for me (as it was every night that week). I also know that I spent time on Twitter keeping those wonderful friends updated on how I was doing.

I have to point out that I am so thankful & appreciative of all those who did their best to cheer me up & keep tabs on me thru Twitter. What a blessing in a time where I felt terribly isolated. Not knowing what was/is wrong (although I’m sure it’s my gallbladder I haven’t been “officially” diagnosed) and lying in that room alone was terrifying. There really aren’t words to let all those people (some who I met for the first time while in hospital) know how much that meant to me. Thank you again to everybody on Twitter who chatted with me. You were good medicine for my soul. Some of them went above & beyond…they know who they are & how I feel about them.

Wednesday I was off food & liquids again for some more fun tests. I got the fun of a pelvic ultrasound (I’m not going into details on this one…if you know what I’m talking about then I’m sorry ‘cuz they are more awkward than a traditional gyn exam. If you don’t know what I’m talking about then count yourself lucky.) plus a second gyn exam & and EGD. The EGD is worth telling about…I was quite amusing from what I’ve gathered from other sources.

For the EGD (it’s a scope stuck down your throat into your stomach) I was taken down to the surgery section of 4West. The got me settled on the table in the room & got me hooked to the blood pressure monitor and heart monitor. I also got a toasty warm blanket tucked around me as I was freezing (I was cold all the time while I was there). By this time I had such a cocktail of meds that I drifted in & out of sleep at random. I think I have a pretty good idea what being narcoleptic must be like. Anyway, I fell asleep on the table & the nurses had to wake me up to get me prepped. I was not an easy patient although it wasn’t on purpose. I simply could not stay awake. Finally the did get me rolled onto my right side, the oxygen in my nose (which I wouldn’t stop touching ‘cuz it felt so weird so they finally pinned my arms down with the blanket) & the mouth guard (so I wouldn’t accidently bite the scope) in. I very vaguely remember some lady telling me they were going to sedate me. The next thing I remember is asking if we were done. I asked this question at least 10 times…I’d fall asleep again & couldn’t remember what was going on. Then as I was headed back to my room someone decided to take me to 6West. Fortunately one of my nurses saw me before I could get carted up to floors…I would have really freaked out had I woken up there. I made it back to my room with a team of 4 people. These were the lucky ones that got to help transfer me from the bed I was in to the bed in my room. The two beds were put as close together as possible with a plastic body board slanted between them. I then got the option to slide down myself or have them help. Feeling adventurous I quite giddily decided to slide….much to the amusement of all present. Apparently I felt the need to “Wheeeee!” as I slid down into my bed. I also managed to get quite tangled in my length of IV hose.

Not long after that little bit of comedy my brother-in-law Pete popped in to check on me. He was working & had a transfer from Cloquet to Duluth (he’s a firefighter & paramedic) so he took a couple minutes to see me. I don’t remember much of that except for him hugging me good-bye…I patted his face several times with both hands….ah well what can I say I was pretty drugged up. Abe has also informed me (I have NO recollection of the following events) that I hollered at Abe for not using the television remote properly & demanding that it be handed to me. I also got quite animated & very angry about all the snowmen that were populating the room. {Abe says I was creeped out by snowmen in August.} In the imperious manner that only I can have when impaired by drugs (or alcohol) I announced that the snowmen were bothering me & that flicking them was the only way to make them disappear. I then proceeded to demonstrate & apparently had some success in disbanding the little creatures as I did calm down. (Every time I mention the snowmen Abe’s gets a very funny look on his face & he laughs.)

I have so much more to tell but it’ll keep a bit longer…I’ll fill you all in on the rest of my stay & what I think of the whole crazy business in another post. (That is of course if you still want to read it…I promise to write about something else very soon.)

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Posted in Oh WOW!, Out & About, Patently Ridiculous, The Life We Lead

The One Where I Go to the Hospital II

22 Aug

So a few posts back I gave a recounting of my visit to ER & admission to the hospital. It went smoothly (no big scary horror stories about not getting treatment or aid) and I was soon ensconsed in my own ER room, carefully tucked in with a wonderful IV & pain meds. I dozed a lot lying there…I hadn’t slept very well in the preceeding days plus the combo of drugs made me sleepy. Abe sat in the room with me — for 7 long hours… I’m sure he was bored out of his mind (I know he was worried too) though I kept asking him how he was, if he needed anything. I also remember apologizing A LOT for being sick & asking to go to the hospital (not to mention the fretting I did over not taking the time to shave my legs before we left home).

So after several exams, lots of waiting & no answers I was admitted to the hospital. They wheeled me up to 4West and into room 403. There I answered about 5,000 questions (well I tried…I was after all on a pharmacy worth of meds) about my health history. I remember asking the nurse (who was VERY patient) to repeat some of the questions several times. Fortunately Abe was able to help out with the answers. I also managed to get a different gown…I went from one that was too small to one what could have been used as a circus tent for the Lollipop Kids.

Once settled in I finally got some water which I’d been asking for all day but was allowed because of the tests. Abe & I just hung out for a while but eventually it was getting to be late & he still had to drive home. I never like saying good-bye to Abe. Lying there in that hospital bed, saying good-bye & watching Abe walk out the door was one of my least favorite moments. Part of me wanted nothing more than to pitch a hysterical crying fit & make him stay with me. Knowing that would be far too selfish I waited to do most of my crying until after I was sure he was gone. (Besides there was no way Abe could sleep in the one chair all night & the bed was too small for both of us. Plus the dogs needed to be fed, watered & let out for a run.)

I passed a less than restful night Monday night. Tuesday morning started with a visit from someone taking more vials of blood for testing & another individual checking my vitals. I drifted back to semi-sleep for a while. As I was having a hida scan on Tuesday sometime I was not allowed to eat. (I’ll explain a hida scan in a bit) Now I knew I was having a hida scan & that there’s no food beforehand….but that didn’t stop at least 3 people from trying to give me a breakfast tray. I told the first person I was not allowed food because of the test. They said ok & left. A few minutes later a second person tapped on the door & asked if I wanted breakfast. I declined in a somewhat grouchy manner although I did my best to be polite. When the third person came barging in with the breakfast tray I refused it in a less polite & intensely more grouchy manner. The third person argued with me, demanding that I should eat. I brusquely explained that I was not allowed to eat because I was scheduled for a hida scan. Person #3 (most likely thinking I was crazed with medication) huffed out of the room & returned with my nurse who (fortunately for me) backed me up on the no food allowed. The tray was then quickly removed & I was left in peace. Abe arrived shortly thereafter & I was very happy not to be alone with the crazed breakfast gang.

After a while I was wheeled down to nuclear medicine for my hida scan. The hida scan is a terribly uncomfortable test. First you are strapped to a narrow metal table. I do mean strapped as there must be no movement for the duration (about an hour) of the test. Then you are injected with a radioactive dye. After that you lie still in a very uncomfortable & artificial position while a giant machine is moved over you & takes pictures of your gallbladder. The dye slowly fills up the gallbladder & then spills into the small intestine…once that happens a second drug is administered which makes the gallbladder contract. This is where it gets incredibly painful (at least for me). For the next 6-15 minutes (depending on the person giving the test) you feel as if your insides are being squeezed through a bendy, swirly straw. Did I mention that you’ll want to curl up in the fetal position, curse the doctor & then die…’cuz that is exactly what you can’t do–because you are strapped down.

When I was finally unstrapped & allowed to sit up I barely managed to slide down off the table. {oh yeah, me = 5′ 2″…I needed a step stool to climb onto it. The geriatric man who administered the test neglected to aid me in getting down. This is the same man when told that I needed an new IV (the first one infiltrated) and that it’s quite hard to find a vein proceeded to stick me on the inside of my left elbow & dig around ’til he hit a vein…it took until just this past week for the bruise from that to disappear.} Needless to say I was happy when I managed to get back in the wheel chair & he left me sitting in the hallway for someone to find.

That was just the morning of my second day in the hospital…I’ll tell you about the rest of my adventures in another entry.

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Posted in Oh WOW!, Out & About, Patently Ridiculous, The Life We Lead

Blogging the Crazy…

10 Jul

I have been very absent from here lately. It’s odd because while I want to write I’ve struggled mightily with what to write. Life has been odd…I don’t know how else to describe it. I’ve had a few topics I wanted to cover–one being perspectives (someone I follow on Twitter has a lot more to say than I do but her writing reached me…I will need to go back & explore that). Yet with all the life stuff & personal issues that have been floating like so much flotsam/jetsam in my brain everything else has been crowded out.

I’ll admit right off the bat that I’m feeling sorry for myself in some ways. It’s a full-blown pity party in a corner of my brain. There’s no excuse for it & I realize that. There’s a war going on in my head while I get an out-of-body commentators view of the whole thing. What triggered this I don’t really know…I can guess but it’s more personal than I’m willing to write about here. On the other hand I feel so fortunate & blessed to have such an amazing family & a great group of friends (even if I’ve never met ya’ll in person). I am (mostly) healthy & have some of my sanity. My husband is T-E-RR-I-F-I-C terrific & without him I’d be muttering to myself under a bridge.

Now after all that I’m sure my dear readers are wondering what exactly I’m on about. That’s a bit harder to explain…yet I shall try. (Wow! this is really hard for me…and it goes against my very nature to reveal all this personal crazy.)

Over the past few months I’ve begun to really wrestle with myself. Who I am or rather who I am as viewed through my own eyes versus through the eyes of others. A dear friend told me that what others think of me is really none of my business. (Attn dear friend: see I listen… *smirk*) Now I have a lot of arguments I could make with that statement but I understand the essence of it. While I want people to genuinely like me, trust me, admire me etc whether they do or not is on them & not me. I can only be who I am…the rest is out of my hands. (great coffee cups in the sky is that a hard thing for me to let go…control is my friend…)

Yet I am working on letting go of that & have done pretty well lately. There are still moments where my analytical yet crazy brain kicks in & I worry about whether anybody caught my jokes, understood I was being sarcastic (oh wait…I’m never sarcastic) or if they really like me.

Everybody wants to be viewed in a certain way. For most of us we want others to see us as excellent individuals with some (but not too many) flaws. Our desire is to be recognized as human beings–similar to all of the others on this planet–with hopes, dreams, fears & gifts. I know that’s how I want to be viewed. When I finally trip off this mortal coil I want those who are left behind to think of me & feel joy at having known me. To know that I have touched someone’s life, no matter how insignificantly, is something I hope to learn. I don’t particularly want to know it now but rather in that distant place after this life–to come to the knowledge then that I had a positive impact.

Now we’ve reached the crux of the matter (or at least some of it). How can I be so consumed with self-doubt & insecurity and even hope that I am viewed the way I wish. I’ve been very troubled by this problem. When I was younger it was not as big of an issue — back then it was more on a peer pressure level & I just didn’t worry that much whether I was “accepted” or not. My drummer had his own beat–with fabulous syncopation–and I was content to dance to it alone. There were times when I desired close friends…girl friends with whom I could have slumber parties, boy friends with whom I could dance. Yet I tended to shun the whole idea. As I’ve reached my current state of unrest I find that I truly desire closeness with friends…boon companions available for nights around campfires, days hiking the many glorious parks I have yet to explore, shoulders to share the burdens when Hubby & I are overwhelmed.

Living in this small rural area I’ve grown accustomed to solitary life in ways I didn’t think I could enjoy. Yet my brain has started to fight itself. I’m crushed with nagging doubts about my worth as a daughter, wife, friend. Insecurity thrashes in my soul at every turn. The simplest tasks are sometimes almost impossible to complete. I’ve always been a girl who likes her sleep–now it seems that is the only task I feel up to doing. I’ve never felt like I was very good at keeping house–ok, I’ll be honest– I’m abysmal at cleaning, cooking etc. (Hubby makes a much better housewife than I ever will. Bless him for being so helpful–it keeps the health department away!) Now I want to do those things…not because I enjoy them necessarily but because it’s something I can do to take care of Hubby. { I was raised with an amazing Mom who somehow managed to keep all 8 of us kids in clean clothes, 3 squares a day plus snacks, a decently clean house (hey there were 8 kids…we were a MESSY group) & a huge garden in the summer. I’m still stunned that she managed all that & still kept her hair!! I know it wasn’t easy & there were plenty of times where I’m positive Mom would have rather hidden under the bed than deal with another mess on the kitchen floor.} I’m not saying it’s my “role as a woman” but rather that as a woman I want to display that type of nurturing to my loved ones.

While many people in the world have the perspective that they are owed something–a feeling of self-entitlement–I’ve been feeling completely opposite of that. My self-doubt & insecurity leave me feeling like I’m undeserving of what I want the most–love, affection, friendship & support. Not only that but I have this growing fear (which I attempt to combat with reason & fact…doesn’t always work very well either. My emotions rule…) which chokes me into acknowledging & even beginning to accept this notion. The perspective I now have creates a mindset where I am adrift in a bizarre emotional hurricane. It’s almost impossible to explain. I know (with my rational mind) I’m being ridiculous. There are many people who provide a steady stream of wonderful support. Besides Hubby who I can never talk about enough– I have several people who I consider to be very dear friends. (Ya’ll are free to visit anytime; just give me about 3 weeks warning so I can clean!) They encourage me, laugh with me, cry with me & even tell me to straighten up when I need it. I hope I provide even a teeny bit of that for them. And yet with all this that I can say I “know” there is a part of me that is rejecting it at the same time.

For awhile I thought I was afraid of getting hurt & that’s why I was rejecting what should be obvious. Letting anybody see the “real” me scares the hell out of me! (I’m sure most of you feel that way to some extent.) Exposing all my fears, worries, hopes, dreams & flaws can’t possibly be the sane thing to do. Seriously, how can anybody want to spend time with a lunatic like me?!? I’ve been told I’d kill a man at his own funeral with worry (I laughed very hard when I heard that…while recognizing the truth too). Say you do want to spend time with me–well that’ll just lead me into an even more macabre mental state. I want that time to hang out, visit etc. Yet I’ll deny myself the idea that I deserve having someone spend time with me. I’ll start an inner monologue with fewer laughs than a late night talk show. My self-doubt will cavort through several stages; skewering me with thoughts pointing out how selfish, awkward, and horrible I am. Insecurity will perform an acrobatic ballet in my chest to emphasize how little worth I possess.

There you have it…this is my mind as of late. Filled with self-loathing for all of this insecurity I have fallen into what I can only classify as depression. The moments that usually make my heart sing now feel hollow. Rather than enjoying moments I know I should treasure there’s this nagging little voice reminding me not to hold out hope. The other thing I do (in the middle of a good conversation) is to make some self-deprecating comment. I can be laughing, joking & having a good time when in the midst of it I’ll say something (in an off-hand sarcastic manner) about myself. I’ve always done it a little bit but not to the extent that I do lately. Partly I do it ‘cuz a snarky comment is funny…but also because if I say it then nobody else can. It’s a bad habit…it’s this reflex action to discount any sort of positive comment. If I’m told I’m pretty, desirable, funny, intelligent etc I’ll find some way to say something negative about myself.

So I thought I had an end to this post but it seems to keep going so I’m just going to end it now…no nice wrap-up, no tidy little ending (that’ll drive me nuts… -52 for negativity & -18 for demanding too much from myself….AGAIN)

Feel free to comment…I’m sure there’s lots of advice out there…more than anything I’m looking to get some of this out of my head and maybe I’ll learn to let go of the self-doubt & insecurity….

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Posted in I should be in therapy, Musings, The Life We Lead, What's in my Head

Stuck in the Past

23 Jun

The other day I got a friend request on facebook…now this rarely happens as I’m pretty much friends with people I know already. Of course the bulk of those are my family–Mom, siblings, inlaws & a few aunts and cousins thrown in for good measure. I also connect with some friends from college which is nice as we are pretty far flung in our lives. (Those of you who don’t fall into either category are dear friends & therefore I am more than happy to connect with you anytime, anywhere.) So why the big deal about getting a friend request? Well it comes from an old high school classmate & I have worked very hard to leave high school (and EVERYTHING about it) behind.

I grew up in a small midwestern town of about 300 people. My grandparents lived there, my parents grew up there and many of my aunts & uncles lived very close. There are many things that I love about having that “classic” childhood. (I knew my grandparents well which was a blessing just as one example.) However, I did not enjoy school in such a small community. In fact we were such a small district that we ended up joining with 2 other districts & combined schools. Kindergarten-5th grade in one town, 6-8 grades in town #2 & 9-12 grades in town #3. Sounds not unpleasant right? WRONG!!

See people joke about southern towns being inbred…ha I say–we’ve got our own set of “inbreeders” here in Minnesota (and I’d be willing to be the same is true of small towns all over the country). Many of the kids in my class had parents who went to school with mine. I had teachers who taught my parents. There are kids in class with my 6 year old nephew whose parents were in my class.

So back to this friend request…sure we were “friends” in high school. As in I talked to this person (hard to avoid anybody with only 55 classmates) and we were mostly friendly. The thing is I didn’t really fit in with any of them. Sure we had our misfits but even they fell into “categories” of your typical high school outsider.

Not me…I was my own person — and for the most part I was ok with that (yes there were times where I desperately wanted to be part of the “in” crowd. I often felt left out when the class went to different parties etc. but I just didn’t feel the need to participate in the drinking and other stuff to be invited along.)

Part of the reason I was not “popular” was my firmly entrenched role as teacher’s pet. I was ensconced in that role long before high school. It wasn’t a role of my choosing–I’ll lay that on the door of my 7th English teacher. Actually “teacher’s pet” may be understating that a bit but that’s a whole different “Dr. Phil”. I was & still am an English geek. I love books, words, sentence construction and everything else about it. All I ever wanted to be was an English teacher (of course my loathing for stupidity precluded my ability to teach in public school) & I focused all my study in that area through college. (There were many other reasons I didn’t fit in. They really aren’t worth exploring because I’ve moved on from that period in my life…)

Another reason I don’t want to friend this person is because there is a slight chance it will lead to more requests from even more former classmates. While I could MAYBE (and that’s a huge maybe) deal with one former high school classmate I could not deal with more than that. I would have to share my life with these people & I’ve worked hard to leave them behind.

We have a reunion coming up this summer…it’s a small “milestone” one I suppose. I do NOT want to even receive the invitation to that event. I can already tell you when, where & who will most likely attend. I can even tell you with a fair degree of accuracy what the reunion events will entail. Why am I so positive about this you ask? Easy, because the class reunions in my home town have been the same since I was still IN high school.

Every summer the town where the high school is located has their summer “festival”. You know the one–where they celebrate the hot dog or polish sausage or cardboard invention. There’s food vendors & possibly a small carnival area with rides, a parade with the local marching band & some sort of beauty queen or 12. Then afterwards there’s a big street dance complete with roped off beer garden (which the underage kids sneak into after everybody is well into their own cups…that is when the bother to be sneaky any more).

Now I know that my classmates will find someone with a decent looking truck or tractor & a hay rack. They’ll make a big sign proclaiming our graduating year & staple it to the back of the hay rack. Then everybody will pile on (partly or completely drunk) and proceed to drink their way through the parade shouting stuff at the citizens (many of whom will also be drunk) as the “float” makes it’s way slowly through town.

**Please someone give me a spork so I can gouge my eyes out now…reliving that scene in my head alone has necessitated that I think about therapy.**

I witnessed this scene many times growing up (thankfully my parents did not participate in what often ended up being embarrassing for several people) and have no desire to participate in such a glorious tradition. (ooh….did you miss the sarcasm ‘cuz I can repeat it if you like….)

Nostalgia is great…I have many fond memories that I cherish. I have more than a few memories I’d like to erase. Being stuck in the past though is not something I want for myself. There are many things in life to look forward to…and more importantly there’s living every day in the present. It’s not always easy for me–I borrow trouble way too frequently & in wildly large doses–in spite of all that I am getting better. I think that “friend request” will end up being ignored…it’s better that way.

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Posted in I AM, What's in my Head

The Scourge Has Arrived

23 May

I feel a little bitter & ranty today so I’m just going to throw some words out and see what happens. Maybe it’ll be entertaining….

Everybody is a tourist at some point. I’ve been a tourist to several wonderful places & dream of going to more locations all over the world. Locals often have a rather interesting attitude toward tourists. The locals feel proprietary regarding homes. It’s an odd thing to have strangers clogging your streets, ignoring the way things are done & generally creating havoc. Of course relying to the money that tourists spend complicates things a lot…the tourists are a hassle & demanding that things be a certain way (especially if it involves doing something totally outside of the way everybody else has done it for 5 generations; like have their toast dry). However, without the tourists the businesses likely wouldn’t exist for any length of time.

As it is Memorial Day weekend my little town is being overrun buy something even more aggravating than tourists: the weekender or cabin on the lake owner. These are the folks from the big city with their fancy SUVs, big shiny boats, jetskis & 2.3 kids. In spite of the rough economy they have enough money to clog the highway directly south of my driveway for miles on Friday night. For the next 4 months it will be absolute chaos every Friday night when I drive home from work. As dusk settles over the northern woods a glance to the south will show a solid stream of mechanized yellow eyes glaring toward the lakes. This steady stream starts at about 10 on Friday morning & hits it’s peak sometime between 8 & 10 in the evening with cars in a holding pattern for close to five miles as they all wait to make the turn west onto Highway 210, then through town & another turn north on Highway 65 toward the lakes.

Now every time I go to any store in town it’ll be mobbed by soccer moms & their kids…all looking around like they are superior & we should be kissing their ass feet. It certainly rankles when I’m perfectly comfortable schlubbing around town in my grub clothes (think plaid pajama pants, semi-matching but dirt streaked t-shirt, flip-flops, baseball cap) only to stand up from crouching in front of plants to see “Juicy” on some rich chick’s butt. Good grief! Can’t a person even walk through the garden center in full “farmer” mode without being confronted with this horrifying sight? (Yeah, I know all you men out there are now clamoring to go with me to the garden center in hopes of catching an eyeful. You can just forget it! I’m not here to help you engage in your sick little fantasises….unless they involve me.)

I guess my biggest thing with the weekenders is how they swarm into town, clog our streets (eat all the bread at Subway) and act like they own the place. Of course not all of them are like this….just the largest portion of them. It makes me more careful when visiting places. I do my best to be courteous & undemanding when visiting. I ask the locals for advise & actually listen rather than doing whatever I want.

Now if only all the weekenders hadn’t bought every single lawnmower battery in town forcing Hubby & I to make a rather ridiculous 120 mile round trip excursion to the closest WalMart (I had free money for there) so that we can wade through even more bad drivers & finally get home later than we want & get our yard mowed. As much as I dislike people it’s hard to imagine that I want to go out & do something this weekend. Of course my idea of going out consists of Hubby, some close friends or family members, myself & a state park to be explored…not gonna happen though. For one thing we are without close friends & the family members we would normally go with are unable to make the trip (TJ & Jenn we miss you! So much adventuring to take Asher on soon. Andy & Alicia–we can’t wait for a weekend to go camping with you…we need to start planning.) The other reason my trip to the state park won’t happen is that the scourge has invaded there as well…so much for a day of wandering in the solitude of the forest with Hubby. Guess I’ll have to relive our Banning State Park trip for a few months…then autumn will sneak in, the weekenders will go back to the city & I can wander among the pines, tamaracks and birch trees to my heart’s content.

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Posted in Musings, Out & About, Patently Ridiculous, The Life We Lead, What's in my Head

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