So tomorrow is the big day for my exploratory surgery. I would be more nervous if I hadn't just had surgery a couple months ago because now I know how I react to the anesthesia (I like it!!!).
The problem? Well, yesterday afternoon my throat felt a little scratchy and by midnight I had a completely raw throat and stuffy nose. But no fever so I thought I may be okay. I went to the hospital for my pre-op blood tests and asked the nurse, and she said to just go ahead and take some cold medicine. This sounded suspicious to me since the last time I had surgery they monitored my pre-operative meds pretty closely so I decided to call my surgeon. Good thing. She said I could take Tylenol cold and Chloraseptic but nothing with aspirin. Makes sense right?
So I raid the Walgreen's shelves for Airborne, Chloraseptic, some yucky blue Tylenol liquid and cough drops. And then I check my temperature again: 99.2 . This wouldn't be that bad except my normal basal temperature is around 97 so I know something is going on in there.
So, please cross your fingers that whatever germs I have get massacred by the onslaught of cold medicines. I know they can't do surgery if I get up in the morning with a fever and I DO NOT want to drag this surgery out any longer than it has been. And if I do go in, here's to hoping they get the stupid thing out and it's benign.
Thanks for all the good thoughts!!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
"Stay Classy San Diego"
Isn't is ironic how once you get a career that offers you a lot of vacation time, you have too many responsibilities to actually use it?
With my work anniversary falling in August I was about to lose all but 80 hours of my accrued vacation time, so we decided to take a few extra days in California after my Nana's memorial service.
The service itself was fine. It was a Catholic memorial, like she'd wanted, and it was so touching to see some of her lifelong friends come out - although none of them were in good health at the age of 80+. The older I get, the more interested I am in listening to these people talk about the good old days. I find the war stories especially fascinating. I learned that after the bombing at Pearl Harbor, some of the wives and families of soldiers had to wait over six weeks to hear status of their loved ones. I can't imagine waiting six minutes, let alone six weeks. My Papa retired from the Navy and it's heartbreaking for me to think about the things he gave up to defend our country - births, birthdays, first days of school. I don't know if I could willingly make such a sacrifice.
But, with this being Corey's first trip to California I couldn't let it end with him just seeing all of downtown smoggy Riverside, so we headed down to Laguna Beach and then on to San Diego.
It was amazing to watch the sunset on the beach with our shoes in our hands and our jeans rolled up, but mostly I savor the sounds. It's so calm and peaceful listening to the waves roll in - I feel like I could pitch a tent on the sand and never miss modern conveniences.
But, I will say that our hotel room ON the beach was a nice respite. We stayed on Coronado island on base (the military does have its perks) and we literally walked out of our hotel room onto the beach.
If I hadn't been so excited about seeing the penguins at Sea World I would have wanted to stay there for weeks!
I have been to Sea World several times, but the last time was many years ago. I was sure we'd have a good time, but I think I underestimated how much fun we would really have.
It was fantastic! Besides just the penguin exhibit (which I dragged Corey into twice) there were amazing dolphin and whale shows, and a fireworks show to end the evening that was absolutely perfect. If I could go again tomorrow I'm sure I'd enjoy it just as much!
Alas, we had to come back and, well, you can see how exciting that was by reading my last entry.
Now I just need to come up with a reason to use my other 160 hours of vacation!
With my work anniversary falling in August I was about to lose all but 80 hours of my accrued vacation time, so we decided to take a few extra days in California after my Nana's memorial service.
The service itself was fine. It was a Catholic memorial, like she'd wanted, and it was so touching to see some of her lifelong friends come out - although none of them were in good health at the age of 80+. The older I get, the more interested I am in listening to these people talk about the good old days. I find the war stories especially fascinating. I learned that after the bombing at Pearl Harbor, some of the wives and families of soldiers had to wait over six weeks to hear status of their loved ones. I can't imagine waiting six minutes, let alone six weeks. My Papa retired from the Navy and it's heartbreaking for me to think about the things he gave up to defend our country - births, birthdays, first days of school. I don't know if I could willingly make such a sacrifice.
But, with this being Corey's first trip to California I couldn't let it end with him just seeing all of downtown smoggy Riverside, so we headed down to Laguna Beach and then on to San Diego.
It was amazing to watch the sunset on the beach with our shoes in our hands and our jeans rolled up, but mostly I savor the sounds. It's so calm and peaceful listening to the waves roll in - I feel like I could pitch a tent on the sand and never miss modern conveniences.
But, I will say that our hotel room ON the beach was a nice respite. We stayed on Coronado island on base (the military does have its perks) and we literally walked out of our hotel room onto the beach.
If I hadn't been so excited about seeing the penguins at Sea World I would have wanted to stay there for weeks!
I have been to Sea World several times, but the last time was many years ago. I was sure we'd have a good time, but I think I underestimated how much fun we would really have.
It was fantastic! Besides just the penguin exhibit (which I dragged Corey into twice) there were amazing dolphin and whale shows, and a fireworks show to end the evening that was absolutely perfect. If I could go again tomorrow I'm sure I'd enjoy it just as much!
Alas, we had to come back and, well, you can see how exciting that was by reading my last entry.
Now I just need to come up with a reason to use my other 160 hours of vacation!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Blog absence and killer scorpions
Sorry I've been lagging with posts - the boy and I took a trip to California for my Grandma's memorial, and then we took a few days off to relax. Once I remember to download the pictures I'll write all about San Diego and our lovely trip to Sea World.
To bring our vacation abruptly to an end though, we had to come home to the wonderful insect-infested desert. I used to think that bugs only invaded dirty homes. As long as I vacuumed and didn't leave food on the floor I thought I was safe. And then I moved into a house that had a little backyard and I learned otherwise. They are everywhere!! Ants, Roaches, Spiders, Earwigs - and my new sworn enemy: the scorpion.
My first sighting was when we first moved into our house and it crawled out of the duct work on the 12 foot vaulted ceiling. Luckily, the boy is smart and he defeated it with a shower rod. My second interaction was a bit more horrific as this one decided to join me in the shower. Screaming and covered in shampoo, I streaked out of the walk-in shower and down the hall shouting at Corey to rescue me. By the time I regained my composure and washed the Redken out of my eyes the monster was smooshed with a shoe and flushed.
When we got back from vacation I was nervous to walk into the house as I figured the bugs had taken over, but I was pleasantly surprised to see my home exactly as we'd left it. Little did I know those little bastards just hid well. I almost stepped on #3 with bare feet in the kitchen and noticed with great trepidation that it appeared to be a baby before the boy dispatched it with a Nike. "Baby scorpion means there's a mama scorpion," I whined from my perch atop the dining room table.
"Nah, it was just a little one. Not a baby at all," he soothed.
Whatever. The boy is a liar because #4 (Big Momma) and I met this morning when I was all alone in the house after the boy left for work. I was walking around getting things together when my bad eyesight revealed something suspicious on the wall in the hallway. Blinking and rubbing my bleary eyes, it appeared to move enough to send me screaming into the living room. After putting on boots (that I shook out profusely before donning) and arming myself with a broom I ventured past it to the bedroom, grabbed my glasses, and once again peered around the corner. Sure enough, the demon was perched on the baseboard taunting me with it's huge talon of a tail. It must have been 6 inches across (or so) and a good half-pound.
I shrieked and ran back into the bedroom, contemplating my options: a) call Corey and demand he turn around and drive home for an emergency rescue, b) throw a huge box on top of it with a note telling him to kill what's inside when he gets home, c) leave the house, pretending I hadn't seen it, and never come back, or d) suck it up and deal with it myself. Briefly, option e entered my mind, but I thought that firing a 9mm several times in to the floor might cause damages and police presence.
Then I realized that if Corey ever gives in and we have kids I'm going to have to protect them from evil like this. So, I retreat to the bedroom (stopping several times to pop my head around the corner and make sure it's still there) and put on my scorpion-killing uniform: snowboard pants, a men's sweatshirt, Air Force gloves, and knee-high leather boots. No skin from the neck down is showing and this makes me feel safer. I grab the boy's boot, and holding it from the very top, I tiptoe around the corner into the hallway. The monster is still there, pointing its tail at me viciously and making what I can only assume is a battle cry of weird hissing sounds. We play this little game for about 20 minutes where I get close enough to hit it, and then run away screaming. It doesn't get tired though, and is waiting for me every time I come back around the corner. Finally, in a moment of adrenaline-rushing bravery, I attack it with the boot yelling something like, "Ahhhh, die scorpion, Ahhhhhh, Ohmygod, die, die, die." I hit it so many times that the pieces blended in with our brown carpet. Then, I placed the boot on top of its body and ran into the bedroom to stand on the bed until my heart rate returned to something healthy.
I am now a warrior.
Christina - 1, Evil Scorpion - Nothing.
To bring our vacation abruptly to an end though, we had to come home to the wonderful insect-infested desert. I used to think that bugs only invaded dirty homes. As long as I vacuumed and didn't leave food on the floor I thought I was safe. And then I moved into a house that had a little backyard and I learned otherwise. They are everywhere!! Ants, Roaches, Spiders, Earwigs - and my new sworn enemy: the scorpion.
My first sighting was when we first moved into our house and it crawled out of the duct work on the 12 foot vaulted ceiling. Luckily, the boy is smart and he defeated it with a shower rod. My second interaction was a bit more horrific as this one decided to join me in the shower. Screaming and covered in shampoo, I streaked out of the walk-in shower and down the hall shouting at Corey to rescue me. By the time I regained my composure and washed the Redken out of my eyes the monster was smooshed with a shoe and flushed.
When we got back from vacation I was nervous to walk into the house as I figured the bugs had taken over, but I was pleasantly surprised to see my home exactly as we'd left it. Little did I know those little bastards just hid well. I almost stepped on #3 with bare feet in the kitchen and noticed with great trepidation that it appeared to be a baby before the boy dispatched it with a Nike. "Baby scorpion means there's a mama scorpion," I whined from my perch atop the dining room table.
"Nah, it was just a little one. Not a baby at all," he soothed.
Whatever. The boy is a liar because #4 (Big Momma) and I met this morning when I was all alone in the house after the boy left for work. I was walking around getting things together when my bad eyesight revealed something suspicious on the wall in the hallway. Blinking and rubbing my bleary eyes, it appeared to move enough to send me screaming into the living room. After putting on boots (that I shook out profusely before donning) and arming myself with a broom I ventured past it to the bedroom, grabbed my glasses, and once again peered around the corner. Sure enough, the demon was perched on the baseboard taunting me with it's huge talon of a tail. It must have been 6 inches across (or so) and a good half-pound.
I shrieked and ran back into the bedroom, contemplating my options: a) call Corey and demand he turn around and drive home for an emergency rescue, b) throw a huge box on top of it with a note telling him to kill what's inside when he gets home, c) leave the house, pretending I hadn't seen it, and never come back, or d) suck it up and deal with it myself. Briefly, option e entered my mind, but I thought that firing a 9mm several times in to the floor might cause damages and police presence.
Then I realized that if Corey ever gives in and we have kids I'm going to have to protect them from evil like this. So, I retreat to the bedroom (stopping several times to pop my head around the corner and make sure it's still there) and put on my scorpion-killing uniform: snowboard pants, a men's sweatshirt, Air Force gloves, and knee-high leather boots. No skin from the neck down is showing and this makes me feel safer. I grab the boy's boot, and holding it from the very top, I tiptoe around the corner into the hallway. The monster is still there, pointing its tail at me viciously and making what I can only assume is a battle cry of weird hissing sounds. We play this little game for about 20 minutes where I get close enough to hit it, and then run away screaming. It doesn't get tired though, and is waiting for me every time I come back around the corner. Finally, in a moment of adrenaline-rushing bravery, I attack it with the boot yelling something like, "Ahhhh, die scorpion, Ahhhhhh, Ohmygod, die, die, die." I hit it so many times that the pieces blended in with our brown carpet. Then, I placed the boot on top of its body and ran into the bedroom to stand on the bed until my heart rate returned to something healthy.
I am now a warrior.
Christina - 1, Evil Scorpion - Nothing.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Single Barrel Whiskey and a Straw...
Last year the boy and I toured the Jack Daniel's distillery when we were in Tennessee. Even though I can't drink anymore because of my bladder disease I can still almost taste the air in the room above - the single barrel room. It's heavenly, really. Even if you're not a huge fan of whiskey you can appreciate the amount of work that went into this one little barrel of liquid pleasure. And right now I wish I could drink a whole bottle.
If you'll remember back to not so long ago, Corey was having a little bit of belly trouble. Well, today (a week after taking the tests) we finally know what's wrong. The overachiever that he is, he managed to grow a ginormous gallstone in his teeny tiny little gall bladder and it's wrecking the program. Hello surgery.
And yesterday, because I also cannot ever make things simple, I found a new doctor. A doctor that felt around and announced, "You have a lump. I've never found one there before." I also enjoy exceeding expectations, but stumping a surgeon is beyond even my wildest dreams. Hello surgery.
So, very soon the boy and I will be having matching laparoscopic surgeries to remove various items from our bodies. I will be asking for my appendix and gall bladder to be ripped out as well - just to avoid it in the future.
We will also be entering a karmic retribution 12-step program to try and get the universe back on our side. Step 1: If we have ever hurt your feelings, cut you off in traffic, laughed at your hideous outfit (that's just me, not Corey), or had a hotel room above you in Vegas we are unequivocally sorry. It will never happen again as we are becoming Buddhist, homeopathic, carbon footprint reducing Kabbalah lovers and we implore you to forgive us in whatever language and religion you feel obligated to.
Mahalo.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Award time
So it's about time that I mention how proud I am of the boy. Not only did he win the NCO of the Quarter board that I mentioned a few posts down, but he also went on to win the NCO of the Quarter for the entire Maintenance Group and will represent them in a board for top NCO of the Quarter for all of Luke AFB. This is such a great accomplishment and I'm so proud of him for all he does. This award comes from not only his interview in front of a board, but also from recognition of his community service, leadership skills, and character. I am so lucky to have a man that doesn't go in to work just to bring in a paycheck - he does his job honorably and makes an impact on many other lives. Our kids will be lucky to have such a great father.
In less important news, I am in the middle of a crisis. No, I didn't accidentally overdose on Percocet (again), and I don't need another surgery. I need a new hair stylist. My favorite stylist of all time 'retired' to be a full time mom 6 months ago and I've been stranded, alone of the island of bad hair since then. What was once long feathered layers had turned into a mane reminiscent of a 60's hippie wig. It's dark, it's poker straight, and it just lays there. It's also waaaay too long. I love having long hair, but when it's getting caught in the back waistband of my jeans - well, that's just taking things too far.
So next week, I will venture into the world of first dates with stylists. We will chat nervously about celebrities, maybe drink a sparkling water, and see if there is any chemistry brewing. If God is on my side I will hopefully be sporting a much sleeker head of hair the next time any of you sees me!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The Double Quarter Pounder of Death
As I mentioned earlier, I've been the worst housewoman ever over the past few weeks. I get home from work exhausted, in need of several pain killers, and not wanting to do anything but sleep. I used to cook dinner almost every night, and make sure there were plenty of (healthy) leftovers for Corey to take as lunch the next day. Well, as I haven't been cooking in the first place, there haven't been leftovers to take. Thus begins the story of how a double quarter pounder ruined our Wednesday.
The boy has school on base until late on Tuesday and Thursday nights. This means that I have to pack not only a lunch for him, but also a dinner. With my lack of cooking, I must confess I was turning a blind eye and pretending that my darling love was probably picking up a nice garden salad and tofu crisps to satiate his hunger. I secretly knew he was running thru the drive-thru and chose to ignore, so I take the blame.
Tuesday night he got home around 10pm complaining that his stomach had been hurting all during class. I gave him Tums and Mylanta and we went to bed. 20 minutes later he was still tossing and turning and complaining of his belly hurting. I found it odd, and asked what he'd eaten. "Oh, I had McDonald's," he answered sheepishly. "But what did you have at McDonalds, darling?" I knew immediately it wasn't going to be good from his guilty face and he reported that he'd only had a double quarter pounder with cheese, fries and a coke.
By 2:30 am the pains hadn't gotten better and had migrated to his right side. His abdomen felt rigid to me and with both of us thinking he might have a little appendix problem we jumped into the car and rushed to the Emergency Room. Let me just say that if he had needed an emergency Appendectomy I would be writing his eulogy right now because he would have died waiting to be seen in the emergency room. By 5:something (the sleepless hours blurred together) he was told to drink some CT Scan solution and miraculously, he started feeling better.
A Doogie Howser resident stuck on the morning shift finally came in and told him that they had no idea what was causing his pain, and that it could be gall stones. I had a sneaky suspicion it was more like a grease attack, but I kept my mouth shut.
By last night he was home in bed and feeling much better - trying to get me to serve him five pounds of the fajitas I made for dinner. I think that men must have errant DNA leftover from the caveman days telling them that they must consume all edible material within a two mile radius in preparation of famine. Corey is not a big guy, but if I let him he could scarf down enough to feed a Roman Catholic Italian family and then yell from the bedroom, "Babe, do we have anything to eat?"
If any of you watched The Cosby Show growing up you'll know why I always expect to find the middle eaten out of the lasagna and stuffed with paper towels. Luckily, my baby is still an amateur.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Mondays
I don't know if this is an issue for all of society, or simply a personal defect: I am physically unable to wake up on Monday mornings until around 10am. This ends up being problematic as Corey leaves for work at 5am and I follow at around 6:15. That means I've been at work for several hours before I can formulate complete sentences.
It's espeically difficult when you screw up your sleep cycle with late nights over the weekend, which we did in Pinetop. Granted, I'm ancient now and late nights mean past 1am for me, but still. So, if you're reading this and thinking that my writing resembles a 3rd grade essay on what I did over the weekend you now know why - it's only 8:30 on Monday morning.
We got out of town late Friday so we didn't make it up the mountain until close to 10pm and I was grouchy and tired and in mounds of pain even though I took 3 percoset. Needless to say, it was not a fun roadtrip. The rest of the 'vacation' was great though - the boy played golf and actually beat my Dad on one hole (which I guarantee will never happen again) and I got to cook a full meal for more than one person. I made Crab Stuffed Filet Mignon with Cabernet Blackberry reduction, creamed fresh sweet corn, and broiled parmesan asparagus. The first course salads were these bacon bowls, which I thought turned out adorable. That was followed with lemon meringue pie and my mom's first taste of homemade chocolate souffle, which I fear she loved a little too much. The best part was that we've been getting my mom new knives to replace the ones she got as a wedding present (33 years ago) so I was actually able to prepare the steaks without hacksaw intervention. Hallelujah. Now, if I can only get her out of the house long enough to replace her 1970s mustard colored stove.
We had my Dad open his Patron silver and the wallet we got him for Father's Day and hit the road yesterday to make it back here in time for our self imposed 8pm bed check. So, even though we had less than 48 hours in the mountains it was a nice respite from the hellacious heat (and my lack of cooking). The boy's already dreaming of repeating the 7th hole over 4th of July weekend.
Oh, and although it's completely off the topic of this post - the boy won NCO of the quarter for his squadron and I couldn't be prouder. I mean, I'd pick him as the winner but I had no idea that the commanders of the Air Force are nearly as smart as I am. Cross your fingers for his even bigger board tomorrow!!
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