Bubble Wrap and a Helmet Please

I may not be the most graceful woman in the world, but I am not accident prone or terribly klutzy. After a few ‘incidents’ this past week (scroll down a few posts and you’ll see my Alpine Slide mishap), I think I need someone to wrap me in toilet paper and bubble wrap, and place a dip shit proof protective helmet upon my head. Any takers? Oh yes, and if you could type and text for me, brush my teeth, and occasionally wipe my ass (it’s only once a day!), that would be great.

Fresh off the presses… My Newly Fucked-Up Thumb! The result of a softball line drive gone wrong. Last night it was painful. But at 3 am, when I woke up and nearly ripped the damn digit off, I knew a morning visit to the InstaCare was in the cards for me. Official diagnosis: Severely jammed and a bone chip. Good times.

Because I’m a bloody cripple now, I couldn’t really get a picture that captures the lovely blue and blackness of it all, nor the swelling. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, and I’m here to tell you that… HOLY SHIT THIS HURTS! But luckily I have the gigantic thumb brace that lets everyone know I’m kind of an idiot and will hopefully keep anyone from bumping my offending thumb (I would hate to have to scream obscenities at a perfect stranger). It’s awesome!

One more thing… it took me 30 f’ing minutes to type this stupid post.

 

Sane As I Ever Was

Here’s a little update from my fun filled family reunion (say THAT 10 times fast).

The kids are having a blast. I’m having fun but am also tired in a way that only those vacationing with 20 other people can understand. AND my arm is on absolute fire after my stupid Alpine Slide crash Thursday morning. The swelling and redness continue to get worse. Woo hoo! More on that to come. In the meantime, enjoy my pathetic picture :).

 

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

The past few years my love life has been disappointing to say the least.

I have felt like something was missing. That something was the love of a good man. But the “good man” proved to be a very elusive specimen. Who knew that I was just looking for the right thing in all the wrong places.

On that note, let me be the first to introduce you all to George! Our meeting would have never been possible had it not been for my amazing friend Carlie, who blessed me with this birthday gift! Thank you my dear

He is everything I could have hoped for and more (or I suppose I should say and less… the instructions clearly state: “WARNING: This is not THAT type of inflatable and therefore coitus is not recommended”. Yeah, so what! What he is “missing” in some areas he makes up by being a wonderful companion). He is only about 3 feet tall, but I am not one to judge someone just because they don’t fit the unrealistic standards of what society says is attractive. Like having real hair, or a pulse.

Here are just a few photos of George and I living it up. Not only is he a tender (often to a fault) lover, he is also a wonderful cook, has great stamina while working out, is great with the dog AND the kids, and gives great foot rubs in the tub :). Jealous girls? Get your own damn husband! The very best part is that my kids started calling him “Dad” the very first day without ANY prompting at all. Shit sugar, we’re a family!

Great things can come in small packages (NOT always the case)

Who knew something so plastic could be so romantic?!

George has some serious skills in the kitchen

A true sweetheart!

 

It Gives Me A Special Feeling

This one thing seems to sum up my week pretty well:

Today I sat on the steps of my porch, just to catch my breath for a minute. My dog, Gator, came up to give me a big wet kiss. It was at that moment when I realized that he must have recently eaten shit. I’m not sure if it was his own or not, but it seemed like the perfect ending the past 5 days.

 

My Last Rant - About This One

I’m on my way to Lake Powell tomorrow. It’s my annual Memorial Day/It’s my Birthday trip. It’s the one vacation that I go on WITHOUT my kids that I look forward most each year.

I am so damn grumpy today that I can’t even make myself excited about it. That and the stupid weather forecast does not look good.

Back to my bitching.

I hate feeling the way I do right now. I’m angry, hurt, bitter, sad, confused, and slightly disgusted with myself. If there were a pill to cure it, I’d gladly become a “whatever-the-name-of-that-pill-is” whore.

I should have listened to my rational and smart self and not other relationship dorks out there. I shouldn’t have sent the email. Instead of feeling better… having some kind of closure… it cracked open a door. A door that leads nowhere but to DIP SHIT LAND.

My note was not insulting, or even very emotional. It was very matter of fact. Frankly, I’m proud of the level of maturity I showed. His response:

“I’m sorry I hurt you, I really am. I ended up having a really bad week. ***** (his daughter) became sick, the state came after me for the bill etc, and I ended up having to get a biopsy today and I will be out of doing anything for a while. I will call you next week. I am not a prick and I didn’t want to hurt you or your kids. But apparently I am a little sick again. Nothing makes my disapearing ok, but I am sorry, and I do apologize, and I will call you next week.”

All together now… Awwww.

It might have held some weight had he not said everything that he did, and had everything that happened between us not happened.

And it might have even been more convincing had I not seen him online later that night trolling the internet dating site where we met. Yes, you must be in SOOO much pain and SOOO stressed. Hitting up da ladies is how I always get feeling better.

Your bullshit excuse isn’t comforting… It’s just adding to the pile of excrement that you have already shoveled on top of my head.

I was willing to overlook and support you with regards to everything… the broken car, the “illness”, the lame job, etc. That is when I thought I knew the man that you were. All that I see is a big defective used maxi-pad.

So take you sore little prostate and shove it further up your ass.

OK, the rant is over.

I hope that I have fun at the lake. I hope that I’m able to put this all behind me and come back into town with a fresh prespective and healed heart.

 

The Dating Do’s and Don’ts - Part 2

Part 1 was a good start, and here’s the continuation. Once you are dating someone, here’s a few clues on what you should do, and things to avoid:

DO: If you’re interested in a woman, it’s OK to say so. But make sure that your words actually match how you feel.
DON’T: Don’t tell a woman that you feel like she may be the one. Or that you’ve never been this excited about any woman ever (even your former wife). Or that you’re not going anywhere. Or that you’re excited to see her, just to never actually speak to her again. It’s cruel and it’s childish.

DO: Have an actual working car if you plan on dating someone.
DON’T: Don’t tell the woman you’re dating that your car just broke down and that you’re getting it fixed this week when in 3 weeks, you still have the same story. If you can’t afford to fix your car, or be bothered with doing it, you’re not ready to be dating.

DO: Be thoughtful when dating a woman with children. If you’re not willing to settle down with someone with kids, don’t date her. If you are OK with the kids thing, great… but realize that you’re not just dating the mom. It’s a package deal.
DON’T: When a mom is in a hospital waiting room while her daughter is having surgery, do not say “this is the last time you’ll go through this alone” unless those are actually your intentions. ALSO, never tell a woman’s child that you’re planning a play date with her and your own child unless you are going to do it.

DO: Hey, not all relationships work out. It’s OK. If your feelings change or feel like things aren’t working out, be honest and communicate your feelings.
DON’T: DO NOT just walk away without saying anything. It’s not OK to just change your profile from “seeing someone and seeing how that works out” to “out and about” without actually telling the person you’re dating. Show a little bit of respect. Hopefully at some point you actually cared about that persons feelings. And even if you want out, pulling a David Copperfield and up and vanishing is not cool. NOT COOL. It’s creepy and cowardly.

DO: Texting… it can be a good thing. If you are in a meeting or out with friends, and don’t want to be entirely rude by making a phone call, it’s pretty handy. But call once in awhile. Women like to hear your voice. We want to know what you’re thinking about us. We need a little confirmation and reassurance like everyone else. Unless you are under 18, at least try to act like a man and pick up the phone, dial her phone number, move your lips and push some air between them.
DON’T: Do not tell a woman that you are going to call her if you aren’t. In fact, don’t make any promises that you don’t intend to keep. You may be an asshole, but that doesn’t mean you have to be a lying asshole.

I hope that this has been another helpful installment of Dating Do’s and Don’ts. Until next time.

 

Make That 100

That 1% I was holding out for, or hoping for?

I’m changing that statistic to 100%.

 

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.