September 3
From my brain
Contents |
2008
Me 08:42, 3 September 2008 (EDT)
I just don't have it today. I usually can put the face on when I come in here. Make myself look happy -- not to be here, just to be content. Today, I just don't have it.
I love my friends. I really do. Those friends of mine that I know read my blog (including the obscure bit of you that I have no clue who you are but you're showing up all over the map; I can has blog audience?) know about what's going on with me lately on nearly every level. Having your support has meant a great deal to me but I've gotten to a point where I think I've got it too good.
Sure, falling into despair about this situation is normal, but it's almost dragging me down more because everyone is so absolutely supportive. It's almost like I'm the only one who is just lost and confused about what to do and how to look optimistic about it...and that even includes Wifey. That whole "pick yourself up by your bootstraps" mentality is just gone for me. I don't have it any more...no matter how much all of you help.
And none of that "friends are there to support each other when times are tough". I forbid you all from using my own supportive nature against me! :)
Me 08:43, 3 September 2008 (EDT)
And note, while emoticons may note a smile, they're not always happiness. Sometimes you have to just laugh despite the situation. It proves you have just a little bit of sanity left.
Me 10:05, 3 September 2008 (EDT)
I think that as my guildies start greeting me with whispers in-game or IM's out of game, I'll start responding like the guy does at the end of the vid:
2005
Me 00:04, 03, September 2005 (EDT)
And you might say to yourself, "How come he can't remember to pay the site's ISP bill?"
Lets see:
Tuesday, 8/30: Mom calls me in tears. Having severe discomfort/trouble with catheter post-surgery from week prior. Stepfather is doing Diddly Squat (not capitals) to help out, and is infact pushing her to do more: "You know, you have to start doing things for yourself!" This is two days after coming home from the hospital. That afternoon after consulting with a nurse at her OB's office, I inform Mom that she's moving in with us for at least a week until she's able to fend for herself better.
Wednesday, 8/31 12:00PM: Stepfather, after having been informed of the pending move-in situation, refuses to take her to her noon doctor's appointment at OSU. I pick her and her things -- 2-3 pairs of underwear, a couple of night-gowns, a light-weight dress, and shampoo/toiletries, etc. -- and take her to the appointment. Stepfather doesn't even really say goodbye. I, don't care.
Wednesday, 8/31 2:00PM: Leave the frelling hospital. Docs look her over, check for UTI's and whatnot else within the female anatomy, but otherwise, clear her, giving her a Rx gel to "numb the area". We spend the next hour or so fighting various forms of traffic and detours to wind up at the Walgreens by home to get the Rx filled.
Wednesday, 8/31 4:45PM: I head to work.
Wednesday, 8/31 5:10PM: I explain to Phantom and Ceraun (whom I work with) the troubles of the day.
Wednesday, 8/31 5:15PM: Wifey called. Urological equivalent of the New Orleans levee bursting occurs. I have to return home in order to take Mom to hospital E.R. for a "quick flush" of the lines. The day's work is now a wash.
Thus begins the evening/week of Hell. Wednesday, 8/31 7:15PM: After changing out of monkey clothes, shovelling in some food (while Mom slept a little bit), we arrive at OSU. Doc said, "Go to an urgent care, or an E.R. If you go to OSU, have them page the OB on-call." By 7:30, we were checked in.
Wednesday, 8/31 11:05PM: "Hi Miss Check-in Desk Schmuckette. I'd just like to inform you that in a half hour to 45 minutes, you're going to have a mess in you waiting room. My mother has been sitting here for nearly four hours due to a blocked catheter. She's feeling nauseous. Also, due to it being four hours, her bladder is now full. Thank you for the the barf bag you're handing me, but if this isn't what happens, I can nearly guarantee your waiting room will have a puddle of urine in the middle of it." Let me speak to the nurse and let her know. (With the exception of how I adressed her, the rest is word-for-word. What can I say, I snapped.)
Wednesday, 8/31 11:40PM...Snapped Part Deux: "Hi. Did the previous admin/clerk whom you relieved alert you to the fact that you need to keep the janitorial staff on hand? No? Well you see [especially since your superior who's dressed better than you and is wearing a nicer badge is standing here], my mother has a blocked catheter. She's probably going to urinate all over your floor within the next half hour. Her pain medication wore off around 9pm. We need a room very soon or things are not going to be pretty on this floor.
Thursday, 9/1 12:05AM: Mom is in an E.D. exam room, having her catheter flushed. I (out of son-not-wanting-see-naked-mom-ness) am not in the room, but I know this because she screams through the heavy oaken door loud enough to wake the dead. It's only one scream. If it were more, it would have probably brough one or more of the dozen or so armed corrections officers who were watching several orange-jumpsuited and handcuffed patients. Turns out this was the primary reason it took so long to get a bed.
Thursday, 9/1 12:20AM: Doctor comes in, checks on things. Kinda concerned about some pain areas and is going to have the attending head doc come take a look.
Thursday, 9/1 1:10AM: Mom has me turn out the lights. No one has come back. Checked several times. They're all taking care of a trauma case involving the fellas in the orange jumpsuits.
Thursday, 9/1 1:30AM: Latest point in a evening I've ever consumed a complete Wendy's meal.
Thursday, 9/1 2:15AM: Doctor returns, appologizing for crazyiness. Attending doc comes buy shortly thereafter. Nods, mmmm's, okay's later, she's cleared to leave.
Thursday, 9/1 3:00AM: Checked out, heading home. Wifey ends up calling in sick next day (wonderful woman she is! beautiful plumage!) because I KNOW I'll be out of commission.
Friday, 9/02 7:30AM: Wake up to get Mom to her 9:00AM appointment at OSU to get staples out. End up being 15 mins late due to slight lack of planning, exhaustion, and bringing Princess with us.
Friday, 9/02 10:30AM: Now 10 mins late for second appointment on another floor in the hospital. Nurse/resident not liking look of staples. End up being sent up for second appointment, and later to come back.
Friday, 9/02 11:30AM: Wifey picks up Princess so I don't have to watch her. As it is, while holding her hand, she pulls away, I hear a POP! and inflict Nursery Elbow on her in the EXACT manner I did to her brother when he was just a few months older than she is now. Bring forth the Children's Tylenol!
Friday, 9/02 3:30PM: After bouncing back down to first appointment area staples are removed, catheter has been flushed, icky other drain bag has been traded in (you DON'T want to know), and we're on our way back home.
Friday, 9/02 4:00PM: Ten feet from van, making step into house, Mom springs a leak...again. Chaos ensues as to how to handle everything. Doctor (once contacted) informs us that as she's so sensitive in "the area", they're gonna have to knock her out to recatheterize her.
Friday, 9/02 6:00PM: Wifey checks Mom into Doctor's West E.R.
Friday, 9/02 10:45PM: New catheter in, after spending four ours sitting in a hospital pad of her own urine. How was your Friday? They gave her a general to do it, and now they're just waiting on her to pee before she can go home.
Anyone do anything new this week?
Me 13:37, 03, September 2005 (EDT)
This is for Ceraun: Since I was in the middle of recapping the preceeding story for my mother-in-law when he called and I cut him short.
Also for the rest of you cat lovers.
Me 16:57, 03, September 2005 (EDT)
Yay! Off to the OSU E.R. again!
More later...
1986
Me 08:30, 03, September 1986 (EDT)
Start Sixth Grade
Teacher: Mr. Vogt
Hands down, best teacher I EVER had. Was probably the biggest influence on my life and prepared (at least me) well for my future years of learning.
First day of class, I have a question:
- "Mr. Vogt, will we have juice breaks?" (as we did in previous grades)
- Juice? Juice? You're growing up now, you'll be in Jr. High next year...juice breaks are for the little kids.
Thus began my nickname with him as the Juiceman.
Favorite quote of his (one day, the whole class was misbehaving):
- Listen up ladies and gentlemen. As the years pass, and you go through Jr. High, and then Sr. High, at some point, most of you will go to college. When you get there you're going to find out that you will not have a teacher like Mr. Vogt who cares about having you learn. In fact, they won't even care if you're in class or not. For right now, I care so, it's time to settle down and start paying attention.
I recall the entire class paying attention to that speech.
A teacher that can command attention like that tends to stick with you.
1980
--Me 08:30, 03, September 1980 (EDT)
Start Kindergarten
Teacher: Mrs. Hunt
School: Oak Orchard Elementary
