Thursday, September 17, 2009

Some Appliance Advice

My pain truly should benefit someone, so here you go.

When your dryer stops heating when you turn it on . . . and your husband:

tears it apart
buys a piece to fix it
breaks in when installing it
buys another one, puts it in and it doesn't solve the problem
hangs all of your laundry out on the deck for week after week (forgetting the king size sheets and it rained)
FINALLY calls a repairman and it turns out that it wasn't heating because someone turned the dial over to "fluff, no heat"
and you have to pay $80 for the repairman to point it out and leave chuckling

don't get divorced
don't get mad
don't roll your eyes

just love him . . .. because you know that one day you will do something equally stupid and you will need to bring this one up to blackmail him with.

Today's marriage advice brought to you for free by the woman in Portland who is $80 poorer but who truly loves her husband.

And is writing down every detail.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

A Tale of Promises, Polyps and Peppers

Hey there. Thanks to those of you who have contacted me to see how the surgery went.

The GOOD news? (1) It's over and (2) the test came back benign. Take a deep breath with me. Whew. (3) They found four polyps that appear to be the source of the ridiculously heavy bleeding and removed them. This next period should tell us all if that was the right answer.

The BAD news? (1) The "You won't feel a thing, I promise" was a pack of lies. The drugs they gave me made me slightly sleepy but wouldn't have gotten me through a pedicure without wincing. It hurt. It really hurt. I was miserable and angry and scared and walked out of there pretty shell shocked. (2) There was no 90 lb. fibroid even though I offered a $100 bonus for finding one. (3) My uterus is extremely enlarged and so tipped over it almost makes a circle. What that has to do with ANYTHING, I have no clue. I go back in on the 22nd to get a final report on everything and hopefully will be able to ask that question. I will also tell them that they should never, ever, ever promise a woman that the procedure will be painless because that is nothing but a LIE.

I have recovered pretty darn quickly and there is actually even a spring in my step. Since I've had some time without bleeding now, I have a bit of energy and everything. Of course, my really low BP had rocketed back up to crappy numbers for reasons I just DON'T GET but that's a story for another day, right?

So, here's my latest tale of my always interesting life. To make its point, however, you have to know a little about my background. For those of you who have known me forever (Hi Bev! Hi Elsie!), this will be redundant so feel free to skim ahead.

I was raised in the city with a wonderful mom who made great meals from food that came in boxes and cans. I married a man whose mom made great meals from things she actually planted, weeded, grew, picked and canned. Culture shock indeed. Over the years, I have come to deeply appreciate that way of living. This year, when Joseph put a huge amount of work into growing a garden that has taken over our entire back yard, I was equally appreciative. I watched with delight as things grew and then one day, LOOK! If you need a tomato, there are may right outside. Squash? Right there! Zucchini? EVERYWHERE. Pretty cool.

The other morning, Joseph and I were out in the garden admiring it and mourning the end of summer. I got a bowl and decided to pick some tomatoes and green peppers for our lunch later that day. It was fun . . . although I make him pick up the tomatoes that the slugs got to first. (Ewwwwww.) I came in with a mounding pile of produce, so lovely in the morning light. At lunch time, I began chopping peppers, throwing them in a skillet with onions and garlic and herbs. I thought they would make a great topping for our baked potatoes. Smelled fantastic too.

I cooked . . . . sauteed . . . . stirred . . . . set the table . . . got the taters out of the oven . . . . began feeling some discomfort on my face . . . ignored it . . . . got out the silverware . . . . face really hurt now, what the heck? Went in the bathroom, washed it with soap and back to the table. Uh oh. Serious pain now. What had I done? I hadn't burned it . . . Suddenly, I look at the lovely bowl full of sauteed veggies and I say to my husband, "Those WERE all green peppers from the garden, right?" I mean, they looked a little funky, but all home grown veggies look funky to me. They don't grow like the ones you see in the stores.

He paused. (By now, I had an ice pack on my face.)


Apparently he had forgotten that along with the green peppers, he planted hot peppers. Oops. And yes, that is what I had chopped up. And yes, I had touched my face and WOW, did it hurt. I washed my hands. Didn't help a bit. I went online and read scads of recommendations (most of them telling me to never cut peppers without wearing gloves but fat lot of good that did me AFTERWARDS). I saw a recommendation of putting lemon juice on your hands, then lotion. We didn't have lemons, we had limes, so I used that, followed by lotion. By then, my face burning was down to a dull roar and eventually disappeared. I thought my hands were safe but you know what? 24 hours later I still wince when I touch my eyes because there is a little left over under a nail or somewhere.

Of course, the only one who could eat the topping I made was Joseph.

The one who forgot to tell me about the hot peppers.

Good things I love him.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

LIfe as a Game Show

Well gang. It's 9:30 a.m. Wednesday morning. In four hours, I will hopefully be soaring along on an opium/valium/vicodin based high while I get surgically explored to find out what is causing my intense periods. I figure there are four possible outcomes:

1. We didn't find anything, Tami, so we have no idea what your problem is. Pay the bill at the desk on your way out and good luck.
2. We found a tiny fibroid that may be causing issues. We took it out, you're good to go so pay at the desk on your way out.
3. We found a 90 lb fibroid that we will remove in the hospital next week. Make an appointment before you start clothes-shopping for smaller sizes. (Note: this is the one we are hoping for.)
4. We found . . . .well, you know what they could find with my genetic history. When Tami regains consciousness and stops crying, have her pay the bill at the desk on her way out.

I will hate #1. I've heard it too many times and it puts me right back where I started with no relief, no answers, just more bills. I will accept #2 and hope the doctor's right and my problems are over. I hope for #3 because it would explain so much and I wouldn't mind (HA) dropping a few pounds. I dread #4 because I went to too many doctor's appointments with my father when he was told he had cancer, and I know the ramifications.

So, think good thoughts for me today. I will make sure to post ASAP and let me know if it was door #1, #2, #3, #4 or something completely unexpected. Life IS just a game show, right?

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Is that a Light at the End of the Tunnel (or am I being told to "go toward the light"?)

Hey everyone. Once again, apologies for disappearing for so long. The days have been like molasses lately and I use up all of my energy fighting to stay on the surface.

So, life is . . . improving, I think. Work definitely is. I have gotten a few new jobs and notices of more coming down the line. After months and months of nothing new coming through, it's nice to get an email asking me if I am available for work. (Am I available . . . . oh yea. I am. For sure.) My schedule for the rest of the year is filling up more and more and I am starting to be able to breathe again.

Health wise. Well, mark your calendars. I go in for surgery on Sept. 9 to see what the heck is going on with my female plumbing. While I am certainly not remotely eager to undergo the actual procedure, I am eager to open my eyes and have the doctor tell me what the heck is wrong and what to do about it. Personally, I'm hoping she finds a 90 lb fibroid (I'm not being greedy--the largest on record is 140 lbs!) that she removes and I walk out a size 10. Really . . . is that so much to ask? I think not.

Rest of the family is doing great. Nicole left for her 5th year of Not Back to School Camp today. It will be a long week until she returns. As long as it feels for me, I suspect it will feel even longer for her dear Jon. The two are going strong, rolling up fast on 8 months together. He meshes with all of us wonderfully. Last night we all met for a late night downtown dinner and had a great time with he and Joseph sharing an oyster sandwich while Nicole and I looked on in horror and threatened a serious lack of kisses if they ate any more seafood.

Joseph is well and fine . . . .enjoying his mulch and gardening deeply. We have harvested many tomatoes, some very odd aubergine eggplant, handfuls of blueberries and a single green pepper. I truly think that in another life he would have been a farmer. How any person can get such a thrill from dirt and compost is beyond me. I just find it wonderfully endearing.

Boys are well and fine. I've turned Coryn onto the James Herriot series. Caspian is reading Monk novels. They amuse me endlessly. We had a speech therapist here to look at Caspian and discovered that he had humungous tonsils. Truly gargantuan. No idea what to do about that one other than surgery which we cannot begin to afford. Sigh. Darn kids.

I'd love to recommend some good books to you but I haven't read much at all lately. I did read a dark novel called The Music of Razors and have to admit, I didn't understand at least half of it. No, I wouldn't recommend it. On the other hand, reading a fascinating, fun mystery called Something's Missing that I highly recommend. It's about an adorable thief with OCD and a heart of gold. Really great fun to read. Pick it up.

So, there's my update. Nothing too exciting for sure. I will be sure to check in after my surgery, if not before, and let you know I am still here and I promise, even though the surgery is being recorded VERY up close and personal (cameras going into places never meant to be featured on "Film at 11"), I will not put any images on this blog or even on YouTube.

You have my word.
Even if I'm heading toward the light, I will take the film with me.