I am on narcotics ...

For two weeks now. Good times. 

My main symptoms are soreness and stiffness. My back mostly. I joke that when I am at my worst, it looks like Frankenstein walking across the room. Actually, more like hunch back. We all knew I tended to slouch. Buy I am very concave.  Feeling and looking. The drugs help me sit up and release my shoulders. Who knew chronic back pain was the after party theme?

 

Back in the waiting room today.  For a couple 2 week follow up appointments. Overall i am doing well. I am starting to sleep. I shaved my own legs today. T M I? Too much information?!? I haven't had any one have to wipe my butt so far #worstfear. Oh, was that T M I?

The news of Khloe Kardashian hair color change is scrolling on the bottom of E! News a week ago.  That is enough to drive a gal to start writing again. Yes, "news" is debatable, of course. I just was flabbergasted that this was the number two entertainment story for the entire day.

I haven't felt like writing. Not even the Kardashians drove me back to the keyboard. Might be loss of focus from drugs or the great company at the house entertaining and loving me.

My sister Tina from California is currently doing a strategic analysis of my drug intake from our home medication ledger... She has deduced my pain level reduced when dad left town. : o.  Oh dad, you don't read this blog. We kid! We Kid! 

Oh, that was a knee slapper. Too bad it hurts to laugh hard!!

Prick.
Pin Prick that is
for testing blood thinner levels.

Holy Shit-O. I am alive.

Holy Shit-O. I am alive.

The last few days of post opt have been pretty shitty. That's right, no reason to start sugar coating it for you now hunties. The poking, proding is approaching the point of ... it needs to stop i.e. Making mama annoyed.

All to be chalked up to #firstworldproblems. The continued shit world news reminds me in some moments that i am lucky to be sitting in the Heart Vascular ward with these supreme nurses in a private room. Mothers in Liberia to Syria just don't get a pinky nail worth of these treasures.

I will steer clear of details and just wanted to say hi. Not quite capable of real typing, writing, reading. But thought it was something that I was finally willing to say hi and read the sweet things you are posting for  us and Tommy and fam. Glad you are all getting a peek on Facebook at how truly great I believe he is. And the extra gramps and grandma family support I find to be like a faux fur lux item. Puur Purr Purr.

Prognosis to come home is early next week. Hoping for Monday. Oh shit. Thats technically tomorrow.

PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY TINA!!!! '
My amazing sugar sweet sister is turning 50 today.
UNBEWEEEEAAAAAVVVABLE!!!
We will celebrate properly together SOON.
XOXOXOXO

Getting Ready for Prom

Picking out a pretty dress to wear with my guy. Plucking my brows. Shave thy legs. Yesterday morning I felt like I was getting ready for prom. In the afternoon nerves started to set in and it transformed to feeling like the day before my wedding. You know that massive anticipation that almost makes you ill but you know its all good? Yep.

Dad's Hat

My dad Pete and step mom Karolin arrived on time, safe and sound, and full of love and patience. When figuring out pick up, he kicks off with: "Let me tell you what I look like." Which is hysterical on its own. But his opening descriptor was: "I am wearing a panama hat." Oh, welcome to Philly dad!

Tom is in rock star mode. As in, he is one. Pls don't forget to send you good vibes/pray specifically for him. He is fretting the actual stuff today but I am like, dude, just make sure the machines are plugged in. Today is the easy part. I get to take a long nap. There is mad mad love pouring in. Rendering me … just holy cow.

The robot called yesterday to tell us we're slated for the 1p ET slot today (its an automated notification system). And with that my dear beloved devoted readers, I will see you on the other side.

#BeforeSelfie (8.11.14)

Lickity Split

This morning I was puttering in the kitchen and realized its the weekend before. Felt momentarily exasperated. In the next breath, muffin mix was coming together and there were no paper muffin holders. Exact same feeling. I thought well, thats a good sign that pre-op feeling is on par with paper muffin cup household shortage. No worries … broke into a packet of Happy Bday cupcake holder decorations to fulfill the weekend blueberry need.

Somewhere upon the course of the day, I searched in the backs of cabinets for a pressure cooker or crock pot. I added some tasty seasonings, myself, and simmered for a while. Because by the evening, we went from, meh, muffin cup shortage to lid popped off and I was firmly embedded in the ceiling texture.

Tom was trying to scrape me off the walls (he's done this before. total pro) and mentioned we're down to 72 hrs. I was standing at the time, so I took a seat. Such an impactful moment. Feeling the last 4-5 months of pressure built up and coming to bear down on me. I cannot stress enough how tired we are of the build up to this. Writing is a creative outlet for me and cheap therapy but I do question how beneficial sifting through all the poopalacha via a blog really is. Perhaps it is adding to the weight I refer to as drama I have disdain for? I so wanted to be cool and hold it together. I don't want - or have time - to be rocking in a ball somewhere, come Monday, or the remainder of this weekend. That's all there is to it. Besides, when your kid asks, "Mommy are you ok? I am going to give you the best hug I know right now" you tend to be able to pull your sad sack self together, lickity split.

So my intention was to sit down and catch you up on the week. Ready? Started the antibiotic cream up my nose. I can report that .. I don't like it, but its ok. Pinched nerve in my hip is making a come back but fitting in as much stretching as possible, is helping. Fell asleep after lunch today. Lasted about an hour. Still not used to those episodes. Mid week, scarffed down a regional favorite - the Wawa SIzzilli and a donut. Litterally was in bed for a spell thinking i got the day care bug that went around. Nope. Ate too much! Ha ha. So much using the condition as a weight loss tool.

We've been busy, busy little beavers cleaning. Tom is totally rocking it out down to window washing. I've gotten down to cleaning out my vanity of old make up. Like seriously, I know. This place is really look spiffy, thanks largely to him! But what the hell are we getting ready for? We fit in $11 beverages sitting outside in a mini urban oasis. We've fit in a day trip to Cape May and escaped with no sunburns.

By far the coolest things are folks reaching out. The phone calls catching up with old friends have been really, really nice.  BTW, did you know your smart phone actually had a TELEPHONE in it!? Totally novel. I've gotten some super funny cards making me laugh and sweet ones too. Actual paper. Totally insane. Folks have been signing up @ meal train.com or sending iron hill gift cards which is a total relief and I am so thankful my fam will be fed. And then yesterday I got a custom made card from our Boston team. Holy shit-o. I will have this thing for, forever. They nailed it. I am photoshopped to be the Bionic Women with totally brilliant copywriting quips. Gawd, they are good. Incredibly sweet gestures all ... I am drinking it in like the thirsty native Oregon fungus we all know I am.

Tommy Boy Quotations - Episode II

"It's a weak trophy for all the hype it gets." Referring to the World Cup trophy. And ironically, how I feel about my forth coming scar.

Tom and Nelson made a trip to CVS together. We close in on little Nelson running through the store. Dad is struggling to see where he has ducked to. Nelson stops on the condom aisle. Takes a box of 24 Trojan ENZ off the shelf and yells to dad, "Get these!!!" And dad's deadpan reply, "We don't need those anymore."  Thinking to himself, we needed those 3 yrs ago, son.

Hey! Yo! Did you try the veal!? We'll be here allll week!

Tom and I have been talking about what I'll be like in recovery. He is threatening to stand over me in his yellow Media Little League t-shirt if I do not behave myself. He knows it's the one Tshirt I don't like. Why did I detest tho shirt? I have no good reasons. It just does him no favors. He wears it. All. The. Time.

Tom starts running through appropriate movie lines for when I am waking up.
"Hey. Is that a dart in your neck?" - Old School
"You mix a hell of a caucasian Jackie - Big Lebowski

Toots and The Band

Germs on Curious George come in the form of a musician named Toots who plays the guitar who lives in your nose. It's a great teaching tool for the kids. We are slightly paranoid that Nels is coughing this week. Then I go to a bday party at a bounce house (already, I know. SMH too!) and the kid isn't there at his own party b/c of foot mouth virus or tonsillitis. This is the normal contagious thing daycare kids get with sores in your mouth. De Sguss Ting. But I am not about to live this week in a bubble.

Toots

I start antibiotic gel in my nose - yep, that's right - five days prior. This helps prevent MRSA  which you can get in hospitals. Sounds like Mersa. It is Na Stay (Nasty = MRSA). Then I wash two days in a row with antibacterial Hibacleanse.  All totally worth it if you've ever watched the up lifting Frontline special about spread of disease in hospitals. So there you have it. Two items for your Netflix cue. Curious George episode on Toots and Frontline investigation. PBS at its best!

Now were off to get our wills done. It was so nice to be able to find the paperwork and have the convos without a great disturbance in the force. Should be quick 1 hr meeting to blow a hole the size of a vacation through our pocket book.

Tom is off all week and determined to blow through a household list of things to do. The man is on a mission! And its nice to have him around. Esp when I suddenly want to sleep at 7p during the night time routine. At least I bounced back later to watch Jaws (the original) with him.

Ready to Wear

Ah, the grandma zipper up in light sky blue. Or the cutie pie button up polka dot & bird print sleeper shirt. As long it buttons or zippers in the front, it shall suit the needs. Apparently putting your arms over you head - like putting on a shirt - not really an option early on. In any case, cutie pie was the choice here, of course.

Grannie Annie

Cutie Pie Comfort

Other items found on the same shopping excursion were those plaques to hang in your home. Luckily I find I don't need inspiration wood blocks hanging in my home to remind me how I want to live. (Ironically, I do have a large/huge Keep Calm & Carry On sign in my office at work. So not intentionally throwing shade at anyone with said art work.) When I saw this quote Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. Its about learning to dance in the rain. I thought to myself, I am certainly glad I don't have to be taught that. I am already a fan of - and skilled at - dancing in the rain. And something else on I saw tonight was like its ok to get sad, down, cry. Do it. And then get over it.

Go see Big Bird up close.



Make a fabulous pizza with basil from your garden


Read a magazine.

Watch Pearl Jam TWENTY, with the volume up.

Oh. How am I doing? Getting a little nervous but not overwhelmed. Good to have a pulse. Mic check. One two. One two. Few days too tired but few days very happy. Staying home, eating chips and guacamole and watching the Tribe Called Quest documentary, has a place. Been meaning to get around to that. Also practicing a little YOLO/You-Only-Live-Once type activities isn't terrible. We'll take on some gnarly overdue household items this week: wills & finishing the guest room (both overdue). But no big a-ha epiphanies. There is power in accepting your life and liking it.

By Quinten, Circa 2013.
This is a common interaction between the two of us.
 Hint: Mom = Red / Quinten = Blue

The Kiddos

Camp Play, Aug 2014

Watched my son in his camp play this afternoon. Such a gift to have the time this week to enjoy small treasures. It really is a theme this week I am returning too - the time away from work to recalibrate … such a gift. I was close to tears of joy overwhelming me as they always do on such occasions with him. It might be because I am sincerely rendered speechless attempting to articulate my feelings for this boy. Maternal unconditional love is merely the tip of the ice berg.

Many a friend have asked if we told the kids and what we are saying. I figure its worth sharing in case you land up interacting with them; we want our community to be singing off the same sheet.

Flock of Seagulls, 2014

We initially sat the oldest - Quinten, age 7 - down about a month ago to explain that mom is going away for about five days to the hospital for surgery. Family is coming to visit and help out.
Do you know what surgery is?
Yes. To fix something. (He was very non plus (sp?) )
(We prepared ourselves. For lots of questions, confusion and to fight tears at all cost. Alas, only two questions from Master Q)
How long will you be gone?  (And merely asked a few beats later) What are you having fixed?
My heart.
Ok.

And that was that. Everything we've read is all about telling them the bear minimum. Older ones can handle a little bit more but they truly don't need or want to know. So we've left it be. Then this week, while wrapping up the day in the kitchen, I had been talking up how cool it is that Grandma Karolin is coming to visit. (Like come on kiddo, let's get psyched! You are gonna have such a great time with visitors coming.) He loves the wall calendar as a visual to talk about timing. So when is she coming yada yada. Finally just said something to the effect of yeah mom, I know you'll be at the hospital when she is here. I honestly wasn't sure he had put that together - so it was quite a relief. Then he quickly rounded to the topic of fixing my heart. And specifically an X Ray. That's what I was going to go to the hospital for. Oh dear.

Stone Harbor, Spring Break 2014

The hourglass that is silently ticking in our house, just quietly burst open in my kitchen.

Its going to more than just an X Ray. That's only one part.
How are they going to fix your heart?
(Damn. He just came out with it. Well shit, now what?) You know the heart doll we have? Those things sticking out are valves and we need to fix one of them. (Shit. His face is telling me he doesn't get it. That was terrible. Try again, Lennon. Um. Hmmm. Errr.) They are going to pull out a broken part and put in a metal part. (Good answer. Good answer.)
How are they going to get to it?
(Oh snap. Don't tell them they are going to saw you open. Don't mention knives. Oh shit, what do I say!? Wait, wait, wait.) How do you think they'll get there?
They'll open you up.
Right! (Whew.)
(And without missing a beat, quickly follows with) And how are they going to close it?
(With too much enthusiasm) Staples! (oh geez, that just came out. pause, watch reaction <none>) Isn't that RAD!?
Totally!

And exhale.

Brotherly Weekend Screen Time, Fall 2013

And then the convo goes into exact number of days I will be away and what time on X date will I be home. Why is it 5 days?
What do you do on Day 1?
Surgery.
Day 2?
X Ray.
Is that all?
Well, X ray and some other stuff. I sleep a lot. Its called recovery.
Day 3-5?
I rest.

Then, he meanders into the topic of feeling pain while asleep. Feeling the staples.
Well. thats why we go to the hospital so you don't feel it. You get special medicine.
When does dad come home. What time. What day does Grandma get here. What day does Aunt Tina get here. And if you get 10 weeks off, that means I don't go to school for 10 weeks. 

Nice try buddy. And so we went a couple rounds but where we left it was, we've added to the 12th on our kitchen calendar: mom goes to hospital. That just kinda does something to me, to the household. Not good or bad. Just something.

Heart Breaker. Circa 2013

Mr. Cra Cra. Summer 2014

Play Hard. Spring 2014

The other guy - Nelson, 3 years - other story. We'll tell him a day or two before that mom is going away on a trip and he'll stay home with Q Dawg. Carrying him on my hip in the last week and he was poking at my chest. As all young kids do. I mentioned that mom won't be able to carry him when she has a boo-boo there. And he seems to connect, if i have a boo boo there, no carry. Quit while I am ahead and we'll revisit closer to a few days out. In the mean time, he thinks its hilarious to poke my breasts and giggle and say: Nipples!

Ridley Creek, Summer 2014

Felt tiny bit bad mentioning something to Nels prior to our planned reveal, but just kinda came out. It's what I have been ruminating about for months on end - not being able to push, pull or carry him for 2 months. Nothing over 10 lbs.

Go ahead, read that last one in again. Thats why we'll have people come live with us - to sit on me too. Because I will be fighting my instincts to do the opposite. All those parents out there know the cry of their child and the reaction to scoop them up and coddle them. So not surprised it seeped out and was verbalized to the person I have been worrying over. Not being able to have him sit with his head on my chest and fall asleep or cuddle on my chest is a tragic thought. Quinten tells me almost daily, mommy gives the best hugs. And of course he is tall enough to be right there in the tender zone too. I literally can't even ask the doctor how long till a little head can rest on the incision, b/c I can't bear a worse answer. 

I know you might be saying, but they can sit next to you. They can come close to you. I appreciate all the alternative thoughts. But none of those answers work for me. There is no replacement for them hearing my heartbeat with their ears. Finally tho, here is how I made peace with it. It lasts only a few weeks, when I am most tender. I am trading a few precious weeks, for a lifetime of cuddling. If they'll let me.

Everything, Summer 2014