One In A Hundred

Time and time again, I have cursed the world of online dating. I won’t go into the gory details of why, suffice it to say that for the most part, I don’t think it works. I’m going to throw out a statistic that has NO support or science behind it whatsoever: You have about a 1% chance of finding love online. OUCH!

Since my divorce almost 2 years ago, I’ve joined a number of sites on and off, which have pretty much yielded the same results: Nothing good.

While I think that meeting people in the “real” world dramatically increases your chances of finding a match that will ’stick’, sometimes all it takes is that 1%. I’m hoping that this one actually happens to be that one in a hundred.

 

Home At Last!

Just a little update:

Emma was released from the Hospital Saturday night, which was a pleasant surprise after being told it might be Tuesday.

She was taken into surgery Friday night to open up the infected site, clean it out, place a drain, and then also place a PICC line (it’s an i.v. line that leads directly into her heart) that allows me to give her the i.v. antibiotics at home.

So every 8 hours, I play the role of nurse. The process pretty much requires that I put my entire life on hold, seeing as the ex refuses to step up and be a good dad participate in medicating her. The medicine runs for 2 hours, and takes about a total of 30 min. of prep. time and clean up.

I was pretty nervous about having this responsibility, but I’ve gotten the hang of it and it’s working out well.

For now, she’s home, and I am hoping/praying that we can fight this infection without having to make another voyage to the hospital.

On the upside, it looks like the rotten and poor excuse for a guest hospital bed DID get some use… thanks for coming by and helping us with the checking out Porty

 

M.R.S.A.? You Can B.I.T.E. Me!

The majority of my posts are written from the comfort of my bed. I am here to testify that writing from a box covered with a sheet and blanket hospital bed is just not the same.

A few posts ago I talked about my daughters surgery on April 21st. It had been a pretty uneventful recovery, although there was some swelling at the surgery site (the swelling that I was told was “normal” each time I called to ask about it). This past Tuesday she had a post-op checkup. The first thing the doctor said when he saw her incision was “this is really big. It shouldn’t be swollen like this.”

Which lead him into telling me the lab results that he has just gotten that morning. No cancer… GREAT NEWS! But when cultured, the lymph node had grown out an infection. A staph infection. A potentially life threatening staph infection called MRSA (Multi-drug Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus). A “I fucking kill people… babies, kids, adults” staph infection.

To read about my new nemesis, visit this link. My most favorite lines from these articles are like this one: MRSA infections are responsible for more deaths in the U.S. each year than AIDS. Or the one that states that of the 95,000 people hospitalized with MRSA, over 19,000 of them die. Wow… that gives me warm fuzzies all over my body.

Emma started a course of a powerful oral anti-biotic on Tuesday. By Wednesday the swelling continued to get worse, and by 7 p.m. we were at the hospital. It’s now Friday morning, and we still don’t know when we’re going to be able to go home.

Emma is on an i.v. anti-biotic called VANCOMYCIN. That in and of itself is fun, since she has a weird reaction to it called RED MAN SYNDROME… not dangerous, but agitating and sometimes painful :(.

But, for the first time since this shit storm started, when the doctors came in at the ass crack of dawn this morning, it looks like the infection might be getting better!! The lab results also show that the infection markers are coming down.

The past 4 days have pretty much sucked. I have gone through feeling like my daughter might die to wanting to die because of sleep deprivation. I’ve been in this hospital for 3 days, 2 nights, and I’m feeling a little cabin fever (she’s in isolation… she even has her own “Infectious Diseases” team. Woo Hoo!). But there is no way in hell that I’m leaving her.

At least she always wants me to sleep with her in her bed… it’s not great, but nothing in comparison to the chair/bed they have set up for parent sleeping. Torture doesn’t even begin to describe that contraption.

Besides wondering what is going to happen to my little girl, the hardest thing is not having ANY idea of when we’ll be able to go home. The doctors don’t even know. But this sign of improvement at least gives me some hope that sometime soon I’ll actually return home to the bed that I love.

So that’s been my fun filled week-soon-to-be-weekend. I can truly say that I feel lucky to live in a place that has great medical care and for health insurance!

Emma has truly been a trooper. Her spirits are high and she has charmed all of the staff with her cute personality.

Notice the crooked (but still very cute) smile. She has temporary (it better be!)
partial paralysis because the swelling is pressing on a nerve.

 

I Went, I Saw, I Got Really Sunburnt

St. George… a place for me that represents relaxation, getting away from reponsibilities, and wonderful weather.

It’s a place that I’ve taken countless family vacations, and a location with only good memories.

My retreat to the sunkissed town was exactly what I needed, although I left feeling more bitch-slapped by the sun rather than kissed.

For me there is nothing better than having a destination where there are no “have too’s” or plans. We truly did “stuff” while really doing nothing.

Thanks to my oldest and dearest friend for making it everything I was hoping for. I’m feeling recharged and even a little energized.

 

Hell Yeah!

It’s been a stressful couple of weeks. But this weekend has some great relaxation potential.

And after yesterdays stupid ass snow storm (along with my day-to-day responsibilities), I couldn’t be happier to leave the land of the holy and head south to St. George. I’m going with a friend of mine, and we have some serious plans to do nothing. The idea is that we have NO plans, and just act in a “fly by the seat of our pants” way which is something that moms don’t often get to do.

I’m not one to rub good things in the faces of others, but…

That’s right bitches! While the rest of you, my dear friends, are freezing your asses off, I’m going to be soaking up the sweet rays in Zion. Woo hoo!

 

How To NOT Win A Girls Affection

After a few weeks of emailing back and forth, a man that contacted me through myspace asked me to text him (just because I’m so “funny” and “cute” and he wants to get to know me better).

Here is the text string from last night, spelling and all:

ME: “Hey, it’s Megan, your favorite new friend. I’m at a concert, but told you I’d text you, so, Hi :)”

HIM: “Who are you i dont kno a megan.”

ME: “WOW. Ok then.”

HIM: “where did u get my number.”

ME: “I got it when you emailed it to me and asked me to text you… Jackass.”

HIM: “Oh god i’m sorry i have been getting crazy text from 3 or 4 diff numbers. Please exuse me I may have not known ur name yet when i sent u that i am so sorry megan.”

ME: “Lol. I know how hard it is to keep us all straight.”

HIM: “Sorry megan i do kno its ********* (my myspace user name) u caught me offguard.”

ME: “Don’t worry about it.”

He professed his embarrassment and apologized some more.

Yes, in this online world of meeting people, it can get confusing. But, “Buddy”, you not even remembering my name after almost 2 weeks of emails is not the best way to convince me that you find me intriguing or fascinating.

I’m not impressed.

 

Whew…

The much dreaded surgery has come and gone, and all is well. We still have to wait for pathology and some culturing of the retarded lymph node, but the doctor said that it looked healthy. Deep breath.

Emma did so well that we didn’t have to stay the night as originally planned. Woo Hoo!

We had a pretty easy night, and actually got some good sleep. She’s only complaining about pain here and there, at which time I promptly dope her up with Loritab, although it doesn’t actually seem to “dope” her or help much with the pain.

Here she is BEFORE surgery and AFTER the dose of “get her high and
make her calm” medicine. It was hilarious.

After the surgery.

To Porty, thanks for the Slurpee. And the company. And thanks to those of you who were thinking of us

 

Fear and Loathing in SLC

I’m wishing that I had something funny and witty to write, but I’m too damn worried to come up with anything comical.

The lump in my daughters neck which I was worred about in October, like I wrote about here, and then felt OK about, like I wrote here… well, it may not be nothing like I initially hoped.

In March I noticed that the lump had grown significantly. Long story short, she’s scheduled for surgery to have the lump removed Monday afternoon.

I can’t actually write down my paranoia or worries for fear that putting them out there might somehow make my nightmares a reality. Needless to say, the ruler of Megatropolis is feeling mighty helpless and scared.

 

Banned

I am banning myself from watching any movies that have the following plots: Movies that have nerdishly cute men who are in love with that girl next door. Movies in which men lose their one “true” love and then gain new wisdom and win their bitch back. Movies with endearing men who lose the girl they THOUGHT was the dream girl, and then find their actual “soul mate”. Movies in which the nice girl ends up with the great guy.

Frankly, everyday is enough of a reminder of how I am never the above mentioned girl. Unfortunately, I’ve been assigned the roll of the distraction girl… the TRANSITIONER.

So I’m sticking to movies with zombies, war, and anything made by Christopher Guest.

 

What Does This Say About Me?

IN

I’ve seen some seriously weird, funny, and creepy search phrases that lead people to this blog.

But this, my friends, may be the most disturbing:

waterbottles in pussies

I really don’t know what to think, other than WHAT THE FUCK!