A bored Jammies is a dangerous Jammies

Yes, boredom has set in, along with its buddy, cabin fever. This morning, even though I'm not supposed to drive, I got in the car and made the ten-minute jaunt to Taco Bell. Once there, I couldn't make up my mind, so I got a number of different things, most of which are now in my refrigerator, mocking me for buying them. I actually ate a chicken soft taco (too many onions) and a grilled steak taquito (cute commercials, but the product is just the steak soft taco with a new name) and feel guilty for the steak quesadillas and the rest of the taquitos sitting in my refrigerator. I wonder if I would have made the suicidal fast-food run if the UPS guy had been a little faster? You see, when I got home, there was A Box waiting for me. A Box from Sherri, sent before she left for Tahoe. There were five Charlaine Harris books on loan, bunny barrettes, bunny socks, a bunny pen, a frog notepad, a grow your own voodoo doll, a grow your own prince, and two bottles of Dr. Bronner's soap. This is amazing stuff--the label reads like a schizophrenic's wet dream and the soap is so pure that I'm not kidding when I say I'm so clean I squeak. I'm going to save the peppermint for when I need to WAKE UP, because when I tried the lavender, the scent was so strong it knocked me down and sat on me! :-O It's the truest, cleanest, strongest lavender scent I've run across in a lifetime of trying bath products, and right now, I am squeaky-clean, warm, utterly boneless and sleepy.

Even if I'm not supposed to drive, shop, or take baths, at least I'm allowed to nap.

Good news/bad news

The good news is that I'm healing as expected, my staples are out and I can sleep on my stomach now.

The bad news is that it's a minimum of two more weeks before I can go back to work and three more weeks before I can have a tub bath.

*sigh*

Maybe it's the drugs

but I don't feel the elation I should feel upon knowing that since July 6, 2006, I've lost 102 pounds.

I just feel discouraged. I've lost a small person, and I'm still fat.

*sigh*

A Flash of Fang

While I do appreciate all the offers of help while I am home, I am going to very quietly bitch here. When I say, "Thanks, but I'm fine," I mean it. When I am sick or in pain, it is wisest to think of me as a large, cranky, messy-haired forest critter. I prefer to hide in my den, emerging on occasion for medical treatment or for sympathy and fussing, but generally, I like to spend my healing time alone. Anyone who attempts to reach into the den will see a flash of fang and hear a long growl.

My mother, bless her heart, understands this about me. She will ask how I'm doing, provide sympathy if I mention pain or sickness, and then leave me alone. My father, on the other hand, would have made an excellent 1950s movie-type nurse. He wants to fuss and provide remedies and pat hands and all that jazz.

As long as I have my pain pills and an adequate supply of food & coffee, I don't need much beyond a "poor baby" or two. Now I have to go call a friend and thank her for her offer to come over with movies I don't want and try not to growl at her.

Girl gross stuff, Part II

I do not want to be one of those people who inflicts their medical details on anyone who can't get away from them fast enough. I am going to briefly describe the weird thing that apparently happened on Monday, and then not talk about it again. I went to the hospital at noon on Monday, and went through the same crap I always do where several people tried and failed to start an IV on me because they couldn't find a vein. Eventually, someone did, and I went off to sleepyland before they even got me into the OR. When I woke up Monday afternoon, I was in the recovery room and in tons of pain. Fortunately, unlike last time, nobody shushed me when I moaned and cried. The nurses just told me they'd get me some meds. They did, and I next woke up in my hospital room. Mom stopped in and dropped off my overnight bag, then took my car keys and left. She couldn't stay long, because Dad and my nephews were waiting in the parking lot. That was okay, though, because I was right back out of it fairly soon.

Tuesday morning was more pain, a fierce sore & dry throat, and lots of nausea. I ate a lot of ice, dry-heaved a few times (which hurt like hell) and talked with my doc when he made his morning rounds. I had no idea that ovaries could grow back, but apparently, after the surgery in 2002, my right one did just that. He actually asked me if he took that one in the previous surgery, and all I could answer was that I was told that he did! He also found a fair number of endometrial adhesions, so there's very little wiggle room for my insurance to refuse to pay for the surgery. This time, he took everything, so nothing can grow back. I had no idea that human reproductive organs were that stubborn--kinda gives you the feeling that we're only here to make more of us.

The IV in my left hand infiltrated on Tuesday, and I was left with a fat paw about three times the size of my right hand. I promised to be very good and drink all my water, so the nurse got the doc on call to agree not to put in a new IV. I even managed to eat a few bites of scrambled egg for lunch and a few bites of turkey for dinner. I was a model patient, up and walking when they told me to, etc., and my reward for being good was getting to come home Wednesday morning. At 7:00, the doc on duty said I could go home, at 8:00 the floor nurse said I was official, and at 9:00, the nurse in charge of discharges scolded me for not checking with her first, as I couldn't possibly leave until she'd taken care of all my paperwork, and I should not have listened to the doctor and the other nurse and arranged a ride for 9:15.

I'm really torn about that last bit. Thanks to Snicker, I have even more appreciation for the crap nurses get put through. On the other hand, I did what I was told I could do, and if she had a problem with the other nurse & the doc, she should have told them, not taken it out on me. I'm not such a veteran of hospital stays that I know all the protocol, and I didn't deserve the snotty remarks.

At any rate, it was good to get out of there. Amy brought me home, and stayed and yakked with me a bit, then headed off for her morning dog-letting-out rounds. Mom dropped by later, having picked up my Percocet at the pharmacy, and stayed long enough to give me a hug and tell me I looked pretty good. She also brought a whole bag of Lush goodies she got in Dallas (and me not able to take tub baths until my staples are out) and a really cute card from Marcia. The flowers Mallie sent are blooming, and they are not tulips, but very pretty crocuses--white with purple marbling. This is exciting not only because I have flowers in the house, but because crocuses are not deersnackies, and I can plant them in the yard come fall, and have these pretty little flowers again next spring!

I'm wondering if it will be safe to sleep in my bed any time soon. My lower back has been screaming at me since I woke up from the surgery, and catnapping in the recliner doesn't do much for real rest. I'm super grateful for the DVD player Mallie & The Scarecrow gave me for Christmas. So far, I've read two Terry Pratchett books and watched "Madagascar" and at least six episodes of "The Dog Whisperer." I can't wait until the pain is gone and I can go back to work. I know, I'm all weird and stuff.

Time to go take another Percoset and have another yummy cup of non-hospital coffee.

Surgery day

Today at 1:00 p.m., I am finally having my surgery. Yaaaay! I'll be working until 11:30, then heading to the hospital to check in. Mom & Dad are babysitting Chip & Dip, so I limited the number of people I asked Mom to call. Sherri's going to comment here after Mom calls her. The house is clean, if still slightly untidy, the instructions to Amy have been written, and all I need to do is shower and get dressed and go kill a few hours. :-)

But I'm too young!

I've heard that the older you get, the more you turn into your mother. I always thought that happened much later--you know, in your seventies or something.

At least, that's what I thought until last week.

Back in January, when the Valentine's day stuff first came out, I was at Marc's (a local discount store), and saw these pretty, heart-shaped, red glass vases. I thought, "Oooh, instead of candy for the other women in the office, I'll buy these and fill them with roses!" So I bought four (one for me, too) and set them in the guest room until they were needed.

On Monday, Mom comes in a bit later than usual, carrying a dozen roses. She asks me to come help her, and when I walk into her office, she pulls two pretty, heart-shaped, red glass vases out of her bag and tells me to fill them with water.

Not only did we have the very same idea independent of one another, she beat me to the punch by bringing her flowers in two days early!

What are the odds?

Thank you!

I got a beautiful wire & raffia basket today from 1-800-FLOWERS, with spring bulbs inside and no card. I'd love to know who sent them to me...

Pretty please?

Edited to say that I spent half an hour on hold with 1-800-FLOWERS (presumably while they dealt with all the people whose Valentine's flowers got held up by the big snow) and they read me the card they forgot to put on the package.

Thank you, Sherri, they're beautiful! *hugs*

SNOW!!!

Big snowstorm here in NE Ohio (lots of other places, too, I'm not being insular). This is what my driveway and back yard looked like at 4:30 yesterday when I got home from work:

This is from 7:00 this morning, after Josh had come over and plowed the driveway:

I can always tell when Amy has ridden shotgun with him--she shovels part of the sidewalk and up to the breezeway door while Josh plows. She is such a sweetie!

All of the county offices were closed today, along with many businesses and pretty much all of the schools. The courts and the post office were open, and so was our office. Goldilocks didn't make it in, but the rest of us did, and we had a quiet and fairly productive day. Of course, I wanted to be home, maybe to play outside with the puppymonsters and then come inside to a roaring fire and some hot chocolate, but nooooo, I had to work. Bleah. Hopefully the snow will still be in playable condition this weekend. Next week, once I'm home from the hospital, it won't matter one tiny little bit how much it snows, so it probably won't snow at all.

Happy Birthday to Mom, Heather & Mallie!

Happy early birthday to three ladies I admire and adore.



The hardest part was packing Mallie's box.


I started with the box in which she sent my Christmas pressies:

Then, I tempted the present over to the box:

Finally, I added Mallie's birthday present:

I'm a bit worried that it hasn't gotten to Floridoom yet. I hope the airholes were big enough...

Best of...?

In the most recent issue of Northern Ohio Live, the new food columnist bemoaned the fact that Clevelanders and other residents of NE Ohio are not yet ready for whole pigs' heads and similar delicacies. I personally am not ready to eat a pig's head or its feet, but I did notice that an earlier issue of NOL, devoted to the "Best of..." had in its restaurant category a huge number of chain eateries.

While I find it a bit irritating to be lumped in with the residents of Cleveland, which frequently happens to those of us who live in the area but outside of the city, what I really find irritating is that the folks who responded to the initial survey ignored many of our exceptional local restaurants. With places like Crave, LeFever's, Moe's, Mariachi Loco and others available, it is incomprehensible to me that Panera, Damon's and Olive Garden made the list.

C'mon, Buckeyes, even if we're not ready for pig heads, let's at least support some of our wonderful local restaurants!

'Twas a long week

So I'm weird--I get a huge rush when a difficult accounting balances. For those of you not familiar with the process, the Summit County Probate Court (and all Ohio probate courts) requires an annual itemization of every penny received and spent and every penny remaining for guardianship accounts.

This week, with the help of Bosstopus and the clients, I balanced two tough accountings, and helped another client finish off an easy one and get ready to close the money-managing guardianship. It took a few long and late days, but it was worth it. I love the wiggly feeling of elation when everything is perfect and the only thing left to do is type the data onto the Adobe forms and print it out.

*grin*

We always do court pleadings and accountings on 20lb bond paper. When our client took her completed accounting to court on Friday, the clerk helping her touched the original and said, "Only one attorney uses such nice paper--are you one of Bosstopus' clients?" When the client told me about that, I passed it on to Bosstopus, who'd been stuck down in Steubenville for most of the day. She laughed and wondered if that was a good thing to be known for at court. I said, "It's better than your previous reputation for using yukky paper clips." I've tried to fix that since I first heard about it, and I save the rusty, old, bent or otherwise bad paperclips for the bank. Key Bank is a huge corporation, but if you give their tellers a deposit with a paperclip, they will keep it. For the fees they charge, they can buy their own!

When not working this week, I've been making soap. More about that in a later post, when I get the pictures off my camera. Yesterday, I took the parental units to the airport to catch a flight to Dallas, then shopped for more soap supplies.