The Doctor and the Pea
I was so excited to get a big-girl job (a job that pays more than the gas I spend to get there), and I have been making a list of all the big-girl purchases I want to make. The very top of my list was a new bed. I have had crappy beds most of my life. I was giddy at the thought of getting a restful night of sleep. About 2 weeks after starting my job I woke up one Saturday morning in so much pain that I went straight to the bed store. I meant to be a good shopper and try out beds, but I made an impulse buy. The first night sleeping on my new bed was great, but slowly I have realized that my bed is so firm it hurts to sleep on. It got to the point I could only sleep on my right side, because every time I tried to sleep on my left I hit some crazy pressure point and would be instantly awake and in pain. To top it off I missed the deadline to return my mattress, because I kept thinking my body would adjust. Over the weekend two of the after T-day purchases I made were to buy pillow top mattress pads for my bed-of-steel. I have added an extra 6 inches of fluffiness, and finally my bed feels comfy. The downside is that my bed was high before, and adding the extra fluff almost makes it so I need a step to get into bed.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Thanksgiving
Because my family seems to be going crazy. And by family I mean my mother. Whose recent manic episode involved her robbing my dead grandpa's mobile home to get all the clothes and pictures (and God only knows what else) she could find. His old girlfriend was not home at the time, but all the people in the trailer park came out to watch. It makes me laugh that my mother's burglary was the event of the day at the trailer park. And the funniest part was my mother left a note telling the girlfriend what she had done, and how it was to help her move on. Note to self-don't leave a note when you commit a criminal act.
Thankfully, when the girlfriend got home (from the casino) she threatened to call the police if everything wasn't returned. Because she wanted to give the clothes away to her family members. It creeps me out that everyone wants his clothes. I don't get it. It's not that they want one piece for sentimental value, they all think they are getting a new wardrobe (my mom kept trying to push a bunch of shorts and socks on me). I am thankful everything was returned because it means I won't get a dead man's clothes for Christmas. No disrespect to my g-pa but I have no desire to wear his old walking shorts (even if they have elastic around the waist).
I am also thankful I will be traveling to the coast to spend Thanksgiving with my dad's family. Sure my brother and his family will be there to cause drama (like the fact that he is spending $700 to rent a corvette to the coast and leaving his g-friend and their kids to find a ride), but I will have the buffer of 20 other people to keep his crazy from me. There will also be lots of alcohol on hand to also act as a crazy buffer. I wish everyone a wonderful (and crazy free) Thanksgiving. Good luck shopping on Black Friday.
Because my family seems to be going crazy. And by family I mean my mother. Whose recent manic episode involved her robbing my dead grandpa's mobile home to get all the clothes and pictures (and God only knows what else) she could find. His old girlfriend was not home at the time, but all the people in the trailer park came out to watch. It makes me laugh that my mother's burglary was the event of the day at the trailer park. And the funniest part was my mother left a note telling the girlfriend what she had done, and how it was to help her move on. Note to self-don't leave a note when you commit a criminal act.
Thankfully, when the girlfriend got home (from the casino) she threatened to call the police if everything wasn't returned. Because she wanted to give the clothes away to her family members. It creeps me out that everyone wants his clothes. I don't get it. It's not that they want one piece for sentimental value, they all think they are getting a new wardrobe (my mom kept trying to push a bunch of shorts and socks on me). I am thankful everything was returned because it means I won't get a dead man's clothes for Christmas. No disrespect to my g-pa but I have no desire to wear his old walking shorts (even if they have elastic around the waist).
I am also thankful I will be traveling to the coast to spend Thanksgiving with my dad's family. Sure my brother and his family will be there to cause drama (like the fact that he is spending $700 to rent a corvette to the coast and leaving his g-friend and their kids to find a ride), but I will have the buffer of 20 other people to keep his crazy from me. There will also be lots of alcohol on hand to also act as a crazy buffer. I wish everyone a wonderful (and crazy free) Thanksgiving. Good luck shopping on Black Friday.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
The Fart Fest
My dad has not been feeling well these last few months. I have taken him to the emergency room, and to out-patient surgery for different tests enough times to recognize the morning staff of his hospital. I have been terrified that 55 is the new 54 in our family. To make matters worse they couldn't seem to find what was wrong with him, which made everything scarier. I have done as much as I can to not think about my dad being sick, which means there has been a lot of stress eating (mmmmm chinese buffet).
On Friday I picked him up at 6am for yet another test. This time they were doing a colonoscopy and I was sure they would find cancer. I was in a funk all week trying not to think of the C word. After waiting for an hour and a half to get called back his procedure was surprisingly short. After about 20 minutes of scoping his insides the Doctor came in and told me it wasn't cancer or polyps, rather IBS and diverticulosis (which is the precursor to diverticulitis). Apparently having both is like a catch 22 of gastro-intestinal pain. But since it's not cancer, I can handle it.
I had been trying really hard to think of something funny all week. Apparently I needed to look no further than the recovery room where my dad lay resting. As I sat by him waiting for him to wake up, a nurse came up and said, "Would you like to see the pictures?" Before I could say no (which I would have done, since I really don't want to see his insides) this page was thrust in my face and she said, "Here is your father's anus and this is the camera as it is going inside." Holy crap she showed me a picture of my father being probed! Coming from a family that doesn't even use the word "anus", I was in a place of major inappropriateness and all I could do was try not to laugh. As my father became more awake I looked around the busy recovery room and noticed I was hearing weird nosies. It took me a sec to figure out what I was hearing was the fart fest that comes after a colonoscopy. My immature self thought this was hilarious and I couldn't help but laugh. The nurses became the cheerleaders of all the patients, encouraging them to let one rip and praising them for a particularly good blast. As I sat there, having people of all walks of life fart in my general direction, I couldn't help but feel like a fart was the best sound I had heard in a while. I was also very glad to have sinus problems and be unable to smell the love.
My dad has not been feeling well these last few months. I have taken him to the emergency room, and to out-patient surgery for different tests enough times to recognize the morning staff of his hospital. I have been terrified that 55 is the new 54 in our family. To make matters worse they couldn't seem to find what was wrong with him, which made everything scarier. I have done as much as I can to not think about my dad being sick, which means there has been a lot of stress eating (mmmmm chinese buffet).
On Friday I picked him up at 6am for yet another test. This time they were doing a colonoscopy and I was sure they would find cancer. I was in a funk all week trying not to think of the C word. After waiting for an hour and a half to get called back his procedure was surprisingly short. After about 20 minutes of scoping his insides the Doctor came in and told me it wasn't cancer or polyps, rather IBS and diverticulosis (which is the precursor to diverticulitis). Apparently having both is like a catch 22 of gastro-intestinal pain. But since it's not cancer, I can handle it.
I had been trying really hard to think of something funny all week. Apparently I needed to look no further than the recovery room where my dad lay resting. As I sat by him waiting for him to wake up, a nurse came up and said, "Would you like to see the pictures?" Before I could say no (which I would have done, since I really don't want to see his insides) this page was thrust in my face and she said, "Here is your father's anus and this is the camera as it is going inside." Holy crap she showed me a picture of my father being probed! Coming from a family that doesn't even use the word "anus", I was in a place of major inappropriateness and all I could do was try not to laugh. As my father became more awake I looked around the busy recovery room and noticed I was hearing weird nosies. It took me a sec to figure out what I was hearing was the fart fest that comes after a colonoscopy. My immature self thought this was hilarious and I couldn't help but laugh. The nurses became the cheerleaders of all the patients, encouraging them to let one rip and praising them for a particularly good blast. As I sat there, having people of all walks of life fart in my general direction, I couldn't help but feel like a fart was the best sound I had heard in a while. I was also very glad to have sinus problems and be unable to smell the love.
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