A trip to...

I am still recovering by our family trip this evening. Jay announced to me, in private, that he wanted to take the family out tonight. He told me where and in my desperation to get out of the house for the second time in over a week, I agreed. Under cloak of going to the grocery store, we managed to keep it a surprise from the kids until we pulled into the parking lot. It is on the top of the list for every person who has recently had back surgery. Gastronomical delights abound which can thoroughly satisfy person that hasn't eaten out in about 3 weeks, save a trip to chik-fila this week. The pinnacle of gourmet decadence and romantic ambiance...Can you guess???? Could it possibly be??? Wait, don't guess now...I'll give you another hint...my kids went bonkers in the car at the sight of it...I gave it away with that one, I am sure. Yes, you guessed it...CHUCK E. CHEESE!!!!!

Alright, I am being a little extreme - I did like getting out of this house, despite the noise, pizza and my slowly escalating pain. Seriously, though, the kids still love that place. Jay's purpose was to reward the kids for incredible report cards this school year. It is also a place unlike anything they have in the Netherlands and since Jay's mom is here, well, you just have to go. It ranks up there with Golden Corral in terms of unbelievable-ness to her.

I really should attach a picture of Lily taken at her 2nd birthday - also held at Mr. Cheese's house. The expression on her face is how I imagine my face when I see Jesus. Except, she is gazing, adoringly at the big mouse. It is pure adoration. It was really no different this time either. Chuck came out for someone's birthday party and she literally pushed through the crowd of kids whose parents had shelled out the bucks for his appearance and jumped into his arms. To say she is a big fan of the mouse is really an understatement.

Back to tonight...we took their report cards which gives them 15 extra tokens a piece and then brought in a discount coupon from the 'net. We sent the kids off into the wonderland with plastic cups and tokens in hand. Two hours later, three salads, one large pizza and several refills later, we were at the "trash trove," oops, I mean "treasure trove," to pick out our incredible prizes from the 75 or tickets we have earned. Seriously, who ever earns 3,000 tickets for an inflatable Chuck E. Cheese bouncy ball?

Actually, before we were finished with the games, Sadie came up to me thrust her prize pickins' in my hands and said, "I'm done, I am going to the playset." Huh? So, she did all her games, turned her tickets into the machines herself and got her prizes. O-K. She doesn't need me for that anymore. Ethan took for-ev-er to decide as he usually does. He always asks me if I think his choice is ok. Or, would I pick that if I were him. You know, the child that needs affirmation that he is doing the right thing. He accidently got shorted a measly 30 ticket item (the world to him) - a plastic scorpion ring. The boy was nearly in tears -at 8! The line was long, the prize redeemer had left his station leaving throngs of other kids waiting, Jay was impatient, I was in pain, Lily was itching to crack open her lollipops, so what was a mom to do? Yeah, you know it. I went around the line to the cashier and just said, we got short a scorpion deal - can we just get one? Supermom to the rescue, a boy's smile returned and we headed to the car.

Oh, this is an interesting tidbit...I was standing with Lily at the ticket redemption machine. We were there for a little while because Lily insisted on feeding them into the machine herself and really, it wasn't worth the battle. Another boy, age 7 maybe, was standing behind me, or rather kept slinking up beside me. He declared he was saving up for one of the larger prizes. Then he said, " I have to find Sadie." I said, really, I have a daughter Sadie. He said, "Yes, she is really nice, you know, as a friend. I have had fun playing with her." I had seen them playing together earlier in the germ generator, I mean playplace. I thought it was nice to hear. Upon recounting this story to Jay, Jay was aghast. He had seen them play together but saw it as a sign of the future. A future he is not quite ready for.

kid funnies

Conversation with Sadie, age 6, as she dried herself off from her bath
Sadie: I am growing arm hair (very matter of fact)
Me: What?
Sadie: I am growing arm hair
Me: Where?
Sadie: In my armpit, I have an arm hair
Me: (giggle) ok

Ethan wanted a buzz cut for the summer. As I started cutting his hair, he decided on a mohawk. I agreed he could have it for a few days and then we would buzz it off. I have never seen a child so into hair gel these days! Crazy about spiking that thing up and worried if anyone touches it or if his shirt messed it up when he changes clothes. We'll be buzzin' this weekend.

At dinner tonight:
Me: Lily, you need to eat over your plate
Lily: Mommy, you're a GEN - ius.
Me: What?
Lily: You're a genius!
Me: Ok!

Feast and Famine

I have a little book that my spiritual mentor gave me this past fall. It is called, "God is Enough" by Hannah Whitehall Smith. IMO, it ranks up there with "Streams in the Desert." Seriously. The entry for June 4th ridiculously sums me up. I am, once again begging forgiveness to our Almighty for the repetitious struggle I have. At least during my little trial over the past month I recognized where I was going - didn't prevent myself from going there, but at least recognized it. Oh, how I desire change! I am rejuvenated after reading this. Can you related?

Excerpt from June 4th

People who live in their emotions feel so at one with Christ that they look no farther than this feeling. They often delude themselves with thinking that they have come into the divine union, when all the while their nature and dispositions are still under the sway of self-love. (note by me: Ouch!)

We all know that our emotions are most untrustworthy and are largely the results of our physical condition or our natural temperaments. It is a fatal mistake, therefore, to make them the test of our oneness with Christ. This mistake works both ways. If I have very joyous emotions, I may be deluded into thinking I have entered the divine union when I have not. If I have no emotions, I may grieve over my failure to entire when I really have entered.

Character is the only real test. God is holy, and those who are one with Him will be holy also.

Back to my prattling again. After Ansley's death, I discovered that when I am in a funk or my circumstances have changes, I just sort of drift away. It is not that I doubt God or change my belief in Him. I just do not have Him a part of my day. Drift - that is the best word to describe it. It happens before I know it. This time, my back situation prevented me from going to church for 7 weeks+. I had little to no interaction with my brothers and sisters in Christ. Inside my house, the onslaught of new business responsibilities and the overwhelming load of tasks thrust upon Jay left no time for spiritual togetherness. The ridiculous hours I spent in my bed over the past month drove me to enough mindless tv to fill the rest of my life. By the way, the hours of 12noon - 3pm are torturous. I did not have any food coming in so I pitifully wasted away in this world. No one needs to tell me that I made the choice to drift. I know I did. The blame rests solely on me.

If stranded on a deserted island, how long would I remain in dialogue with God? I know He is always there. Why can't I be? I want to be.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

I thought this was funny. Yesterday the girls were in the pool with Oma (Jay's mom - Dutch for grandmother). Lily announced that she was a white egg. (?) She had this very somber look on her face, eyes closed. She then asked Oma and Sadie to hold hands in a circle around her because they were the nest. Then she broke out in this very big smile and stated she had cracked! What interesting imagination - never heard of a child pretending to be an egg.

The last days of school was a bit of a blur with my medical issues, the arrival of Jay's mom, and my surgery. The kids' last day was the 29th. Awards night was on the 27th. At HPCA, every child gets an award. It may focus on academic achievement, but usually is more about their personality or character trait. Each grade level presents a song, poem or little skit about the school year and then they pass out the certificates as the awards are announced. It moves along pretty quickly. Sadie's class was the last kindergarten class to get their awards. I focused in on her face and as she was handed her certificate. I was poised to get the shot, Miss Adkins handed her the certificate and then Sadie held the certificate directly up in front of her face - preventing me from getting the picture. Pooh. Oh - she got the Leadership award for her class. No one I have told this to has been overly surprised by her award - she seems to be destined for something. The program ran long - until about 9 pm. Sadie was pretty wiped out and fell asleep in the pew before it was over. Thankfully, another mom captured it on her camera phone and emailed it to me.

Ethan was his usual cool self. He received the Humorous Personality and Superior Reading Award. I understand from his yearbook that he is quite the jokester. I don't see much of that at home so I find this compelling. He has come quite a distance this year in reading. He read the unabridged version of Tom Sawyer this year on his own. Considering where we were mid-way through first grade, I am very, very pleased. I am just thrilled that he appears to love reading - at least when it is something he is interested in. On to third grade!

Went to the doctor to get my staples out. This is the first time I have left the house since I came home from surgery A WEEK AGO! I am a little stir crazy, but I can't do much outside the house either. I am still very limited in what I can do - no driving, sitting - limited to 30 minutes at a time, walking/standing about 15 minutes at a time, no lifting, bending, twisting, no household duties, etc. I hope I will that I will get the green light on at least driving when I begin physical therapy sometime next week or the next. I am waiting for the office to call me with my appointment time.

One topic of discussion with my new BFF today was the fact that this surgery must bring about a permanent lifestyle change if I want to avoid this again. I will have to think twice before: picking up heavier objects (40 lbs.), ride in fast boats, water ski, ride roller coasters, run for distance, ride on a motorcycle, 4-wheel, etc. Basically, anything that jars my back will potentially cause a re injury. The only option if I blow out the 50% of disc that is left is for them to fuse the disc together. I am sure that is NOT delightful. Overall, that news was a bit of a bummer. Wonder what that will mean on a future trip to Disney?

God's sense of humor

About 6 weeks ago I asked my small group to pray for me and my attitude. Specifically, it was in regards to them. Over this year I had become increasingly irritated about the rush of cleaning my house for them every week. Because of my OCD-ness, I was always in a bad mood each Wednesday afternoon to the point that everyone felt it my family. I even started threatening to drop out of small group because of it. On one hand it was nice to have everything looking good, but it came at a very bad price. Knowing my sin, I confessed it to the group and asked for their prayers and forgiveness.

Ironically (if there is every any "irony" in God's world) the next week is when I started walking down this back pain path. Each week brought on more pain making it more and more difficult to get my house together. Finally, the no lifting, no bending at the waist, no twisting rule was established-try loading your dishwasher, vacuuming or laundry with those rules. So for 6 weeks I have let some things go. Since the surgery I have been completely incapacitated. I don't ever want to endure the pre or post surgery pain again so I am sticking to the rules like my life depends on it.

So, I happened to venture upstairs for the first time in nearly a week. Oh my. It wasn't horrible, but lots of little pieces of lego, fake teeth, clean and dirty clothes, coins to a Leap Frog game, piles of books everywhere, and then...I entered the bonus room. It looked like Sadie had pulled out every bit of craft do-dah we have - paints, kits, markers, scissors, little bits of papers, you name it. I was unglued. I lost it.

I have hit the wall, people, and I can't see the light. I know all of this is for my own good. God is really teaching me about the value of just being. But I am having a hard time accepting it. I can't enjoy it. It is such an uncomfortable place for me to be. I want to be back in control.

For those that think our house is falling apart, it isn't. We have flown Jay's mom in to help with the kids and basic household duties. Praise God for that woman. And we found our Hispanic cleaning marvel, Amilsa - another praise.

But when you see your youngest hitting your middle one. Or your youngest grab something she isn't supposed to and the runs away, it is completely aggravating, because I can't do anything discipline-wise at that moment. I just sorta sit there, or worse, start yelling. When you see your fun summer plans with your kids going down the drain, it is sad.

I am accepting of God's lesson. When I think about what He had to do to get my attention, I know it must be a serious sin. I just hope and pray I "get it" this time so that He doesn't have to do it again.

Home again, home again jiggity jig!

This will be brief. I am home! Surgery appears to be a success! It was one of the worst ruptured discs she had ever seen. It had dropped down and wrapped around the nerve. She said I was extremely lucky that it did not effect my bladder as it was right next to it. That is a real praise. I still have some leg pain which they said in my condition is not surprising. The nerve is normally the color of spaghetti, but mine was a bright red/purple from all the inflammation.

I am told that I will feel much, much better in about 2-3 days. I am in considerable pain - the muscles keep spasming so I am drugged up. Just took some more. Getting up and down, rolling on my side is excruciating- but I am hopeful that tomorrow and each day after will be better.

I am do to NOTHING - except some basic exercises and some walking over the next 2 weeks. Lifting nothing greater than milk, no laundry, dishes, no cooking...nothing.

I have to watch everything for the next 8 weeks. 90% will herniate again during this time period because they do something they shouldn't. Don't want to go through this again.

That's all. Just wanted to give a quick update. Email me - it is nice to hear from everyone. Just babble about your day if you don't have much to talk about. :) Or, better yet, answer my questions of the day on a previous entry. I forgot I am the reason Jennifer can't eat hot dogs anymore!!! Check out her comment.

Twas the Night before..

Heading for surgery tomorrow. I have to be there at 6 AM - yikes! Which means that I should be out of surgery around 9:30. Yeehaw! I am so excited - yes, excited - about getting pain relief! So - pray for me, the docs and all! I'll be at HP Regional and the sign that all went well is if I come home on Thursday.

I can't wait to blog about awards night at school tonight. Classic!

Catch you ladies soon!

The best part of waking up...

During my virus/stomach bug/g.i. funk a little over a week ago, I could not stomach my favorite beverage, coffee. It is amazing to me that in just a couple of days, I went from 3 cups, gladly, to not even being able to stomach the smell. There is no doubt I was a coffee addict. One day I accidentally made decaf and by lunchtime felt like my head was in a vice grip and was going to pop off my body at any moment. I am not really a coffee snob. I mean, I know my coffee, but can easily drink McDonald's along with Starbucks. Although, it doesn't get much better than the Pumpkin Spice Latte (just don't look at the color!). So, it was with mixed emotions that I poured my first cup of java this morning. Just a small, regular coffee mug. It doesn't even taste good and I won't drink even half of it. Bummer.

Speaking of changing taste buds, I am reminded of a summer at my grandmother's house. The garden was overflowing with summer tomatoes, which I absolutely went ga-ga over. Because there was no way to sell or eat them all, she canned them for future consumption. That fateful day, I eagerly sat in her kitchen while she stewed the tomatoes for the canning process. A bowl, salt shaker and fork in hand, I sat at their small wooden kitchen table eating deposited tomato after tomato. I ate so many that my favorite food soon became my most hated. For some 9 or 10 years I could not stomach tomatoes. I loathed them. However, sometime 15 years ago, I tried them again and magically, my love of tomatoes returned. How I love a sandwich with juicy, home-grown, summer tomatoes, mayonnaise and a dash of pepper! The only time this has not been the case was when I was pregnant with Ethan - I could not eat or smell anything with tomato sauce (no pasta, pizza, no sandwiches, etc). Interesting.

I have always hoped that this same taste bud change might happen with my dislike of anything originating from bodies of water - lakes, oceans, etc. I abhor seafood - fish, shrimp, mollusks, squid - I'll stop there before I sound like Bubba in Forest Gump. That fishy taste, the rubbery textures - yuck! It is so healthy for you that I feel that I am missing out on one of nature's superfoods. Every year I try something -a little bite here and there in hopes that my mouth has done an about face and aqua food is more palatable. That is one reason (like there aren't a million others) I could never be on Survivor - I would starve to death.

I am curious if others have such issues, leading me to the questions of the week:

1. Is there something that you used to love and now can't stomach?
or
2. Is there a food you hate which you wish you didn't?

The cost of relief

Prescriptions: $500.00+
MRI: $1700.00
Neurosurgeon: $3,000
Lumbar disketomy: $15,000+

Our insurance: LOUSY! Easily, I have made my $5,000 out of pocket for the year.

Relief from pain: Priceless

Thieves in the night

I was in bed (like I have been many other places lately) last Saturday night. It was around 11. Jay had just come to bed. We were watching a little tv -can't remember what was on. Bobo was on the back deck and started to bark. He is not a barker and it was a pretty focused barked. It also seemed rather loud and I got up (pain doesn't keep you from being paranoid). I walked to the deck door and realized it had not been shut all the way, so I took the opportunity to tell Bobo to hush. As I was shutting the door, I heard a voice (or so I thought).

I hurried back to bed and told Jay that I thought I heard a voice outside. This coupled with Bobo barking should warrant Jay getting out of the bed. Jay simply said he wasn't getting out of bed and that I didn't hear anything. About 15 minutes later, I got up to go to the bathroom. As I was walking across the bathroom, I turned to look out the large window above our garden tub. I saw headlight and taillights down near the sharp turn and nearly let out a squeal. JAY - SOMEONE IS IN OUR DRIVEWAY! I SEE HEADLIGHTS.!!! He sprang from the bed, grabbed shorts and a baseball hat and loudly announced he was going after them. The bathroom need was urgent so I did my business and headed into the living room. As I rounded the corner, I called out Jay's name. He was sitting in the dark in one of our brown leather chairs and said, "You have been forked." (that is not a typo) I turned and looked at the front door which stood wide open with the front porch light on. There, in my yard were a ton (a hundred, maybe more?) of plastic forks pushed individually in my yard, each with an index card stuck into the tines. I knew immediately what it was and who had done it! Yippee! Not only did we NOT get robbed :) but my great friends had taken the time to write encouraging words, bible verses, prayers funny memories, even some strange pick-up lines on all of these cards. It was to lift me up during this low time. HOW FUN!

The next morning, I let the girls pick all the forks out of the yard, as I obviously couldn't. They loved doing it. One by one, I read the cards - some brought smiles, some brought giggles and some inspiration. It was just want I needed. I had hit a real low with the pain, epidural failure and g.i. bug I battle for 6 days. My friends heard it in my voice and came running with love.

Now - the funniest part of this entire thing is that my great friends were thorough enough to send Jay an email to let him know of their intentions, only the day before. Jay received and read the email...and had FORGOTTEN all about it. Additionally, what in the world was Jay going to do by going after them in my minivan? Lastly, what was the need for the baseball cap - were the robbers going to be scared by his bed head? I got some laughs out of that. Another good result from the forking - Jay and I now have an emergency plan if that does happen for real.

Here is a BIG thank you to Amy (the mastermind), Beth, Lori, Angie, Rebecca and Stacy. You guys are the BEST!

Broken Back Mountain

As time has marched on since her passing, my conversations with my mother center less and less around Ansley. It is a normal progression, I suppose, and a healthy one at that. However, my bed/sofa ridden times as they have been over the past month, have surfaced memories that had been filed away. They are the ones of struggles and challenges and helplessness.

For 3 years she lived largely in the bed. I can see her -fogged out of her mind in attempts to cover her pain. Her mouth slightly parted and eyes a little droopy. She would smile a little half smile. She was very child-like.

Three years...and I have had only 4 weeks. In no way can I comprehend what her months and years felt like. Each day for me has seemed like a year. I won't venture to guess how they felt to her. I am not forced to contemplate the end of my life as she did each day. All of the variables we had with Ansley - the attempt to control pain, not be over medicated, the push to see doctors, the unknown diagnosis, the constant shuffling of schedules, kid pick-ups, household chores, and my own sense of guilt are so uncomfortably familiar...it just heaps on the emotional pain along with physical. It is a new level of understanding for me and it is very unsettling. This new place of understanding brings new compassion, compassion I wish I could have shown her. The fact that I am at a new level of empathy racks me with guilt - did I shower her with true sympathy and love while she was here?

This has also brought a particularly cruel sadness to my mother. She would never voice that, but I have seen it and felt it. After my failed epidural procedure last Wednesday, the nurse pushed me in a wheelchair to my waiting mother and her car. Wheeled up to the car door, I made the quick move to the front seat which was reclined all the way back. My mom helped get the door closed and then got into the driver's seat. As we pulled away, she said, "Seeing you wheeled out brought back a flood of memories of me picking up Ansley so many times." At that, she burst into tears and sobs. It hurt me.

My mom has picked up the ball with my kids and their activities. As school is winding down there are the usual parties, field trips, etc. Lily's last day was yesterday, Thursday. The parents were to come for the final party which was followed by a little performance of her music class. My pain level would not allow me to handle what would amount to 2.5 hours of sitting and standing, so my mom agreed to be my stand-in. After the event, mom brought Lily home. She sat down in the kitchen to tell me all about it. I could see the entire day had brought back memories of being in that same role for Graylyn. Once when Ansley was still living and then last year at Graylyn's graduation when Ansley was gone.

She is once again thrust into the role of caregiver, provider, limousine driver, launderer, dishwasher, errand runner, etc. I know in my heart that it is one she does willingly and happily, but I know where this has taken her and I am sad.

It's been a while, my friends

Most of you who frequent my blog received an email telling you about my scheduled surgery on Wednesday. As I wrote in the email, I believe I have been vindicated - there was a real reason for the torturous pain I have been in. Most people are very leery about back surgery, but they have made a lot of improvements. Relief is prayerfully close!!!

On a very, very bizarre note and what can only be described as a miracle - bizarre, but a miracle...the person who I really owe the biggest thanks to for getting me into Dr. Neave (top dog neurosurgeon in HP), the one who ended up going to bat for me, who came through on a promised phone call and had me in the NEXT day instead of June 18th...MY NEW BFF...

MR. BIG BRAINS!!! Yes, can you believe it? The PA who was such a jerk to me came through with compassion, care and yes, honesty! Do I feel guilty about what I wrote about him previously - no. It was a truthful depiction of my time with him. I do believe because I joked with him about that comment, showed honesty and a true desire to get well and work hard, we had a little conncetion. Who knows.

What did I learn from this encounter? We all have bad days. We all get frustrated and worn out. But the effect of how we chose to react can create a very inaccurate portrayal of who we really are. Clearly Mr. Big Brains in his core is not the person I encountered that first appointment. I wonder how many times I have allowed my irritation to be vomited on those around me, particularly strangers who for no fault of their own just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time (or the "right" time in order to teach me a lesson). What an inaccurate portrayal of me they must have. It sorta hurts to think about it.

I actually wrote the above blog on Wednesday, but hadn't proofed it (I use that term loosely). I received the "Link" from church just now and Bill (the new-ish pastor) wrote my intentions above much more succinctly. Here it is:

Whatever this day - or any day, for that matter - brings you, God has designed that the unique set of circumstances that puts you either in a moment of exhilarating success, abysmal failure or somewhere in-between makes you a momentary "expert." Except for the reality that the Holy Spirit is with you, no one will have been exactly where you are in that experience. So, what will you do with the moment and its discoveries?

Prayers

I have a lot of thoughts about blog topics this week. Unfortunately, I can't get them down on the computer. I am on my knees (literally) typing this at my computer in the basement, thus limiting the amount of time I can type. So - I had the epidural on Wednesday. Most, most, most disappointingly, I have had no change in my pain level. If it is possible, I think the pain has actually gotten worse. That may be because I stopped taking pain meds for several reasons. One) I felt over medicated and 2) I had either a reaction to coming off Prednisone or caught some sort of virus that basically made me feel very hung-over for the past 5 days and 3) I wanted to see the true effects of the epidural. I was told that I could resume activities the NEXT day so I hoped off in the car on Friday to take the kids to school. I was smart enough to take Jay with me which was good because I wouldn't have made it home. It took at good 45 minutes upon returning home to get the pain under control. I will call the doc on Monday to see about getting another shot. As I think this is standard protocol, but am not sure. I cannot get into therapy until the 29th, but am going to call Monday to see if there isn't another location I can visit.

To add - I haven't been blogging because the laptop died - an abrupt and painful death. Jay thinks he will have it repaired on Wednesday - at least I will have contact with the outside world.

There is a small part of me that is very fearful that I will never get rid of this pain. It is the irrational side, I know, and lack of faith in God. Prayers would be greatly appreciated in this area as well as for Jay. He is hanging on by a thread. He is my hero.

Big brains

I got "worked" into the neurosurgeon's office today. For clarification, I saw one of the P.A.s. The following statements/questions made by the P.A. will probably give you an indication of my high opinion of him:

1. So, you are who had to be worked in between my two brain tumor cases?
2. Yeah, after I had my epideral injection, I passed my black belt test in karate later that day.
3. Epiduaral injections come in sets of three - count them - 1, 2, 3
4. Assuming you can maintain the weight you are currently as you get older...
5. How can you watch three kids while taking oxycodone?
6. Yeah, I have had husbands call me up and ask me if I can get their wives on something other than prednisone.

Looks like I am going to be forced to get the epidural injection which may or may not work - not work at all, work for 5 days or like for my illustrious P.A., work for a year. After which I may get another one (at some $1900 a pop with our fabu insurance) or then be required to have surgery. Is that clear for you? It wasn't for me.

I know, I have been quite the crab the past couple of weeks - my posts reflect it and that stinks. Pain, narcotics, steriods and stress will do that to you. My post have not been very fun to read and I am sorry. I need to get a clear head and get back on track - in the God zone.

Monday, May 12, 2008

Angela and Jennifer - you disappoint me. Second grade. Mrs. Sheffield's class. I actually saw her getting her mail the other day. She still lives on Chestnut - and she looked exactly the same. How can that be? I mean, it has been 30 years!

Popcorn
Pop, pop, popSays the popcorn in the pan.
Pop, pop, popYou may catch me if you can.
Pop, pop, popAs they scamper across the heat.
Pop, pop, popThey are very good to eat!
Pop, pop, popGoes the popcorn in the pan
Pop pop popTry to catch me if you can
Pop pop popGo my kernels bright and yellow
Pop pop popI'm a happy little fellow
pop pop pop pop pop pop pop

Pop, pop, pop goes the popcorn in the pan...

Anyone care to guess where that line comes from? I know only TWO readers of my blog who can probably name that line and when it was introduced to my brain. Will one of them dare come out of hiding and comment?


This afternoon, I came out of my bedroom to this jumbled up sound:
pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-POP combined with lots of giggles and laughter. I walked into the kitchen to see my three children jumping around on 2x4 sheets of bubble wrap - all courtesy of the shipping department (i.e. Jay in our garage) of RaRa Telecom Supply. How much fun they were having with something so simple. I couldn't resist either and I walked over and did a quick jump. I know, what was I thinking with my back. Oh well, it was fun while the one jump lasted!


Jay decided to load up the kids tonight for a quick trip to Family Video. The kids had already gone to car, Jay said goodbye to me (or rather goodnight because I had just taken my nighttime meds) and I settled in for some rarely heard in our house silence. Just a few seconds later, I heard the front door squeak open and crying quickly filled the house again. Jay came in with Lily and said, "Lily peed in her pants and lied about it to me. She told me it was water. She doesn't get to go with us." Boy, she was really upset. But, it was a just punishment. It wasn't a complete pee - just the, "I waited a little too long and dribbled before I got to the potty" pee. We all know what I am talking about. But the smell was unmistakable. I have to give her some props for coming up with such a creative and yet plausible lie - water. So, Jay helped me get her into a pull-up (she still wears them at night) and I sent her to her bed to "think about it." A multitude of sobs, many pitifully said sorry's and enough crocodile tears to last the rest of the month went by and I told her she could come downstairs, but had to bring a book with her. She walked into my room with the BIGGEST pouty bottom lip. I think I could have used it as my nightstand. Seriously, I had to turn away because I couldn't contain my smile or laughter. It was the most pitiful little pout and one that I recognized in a few of my 3-4 year-old pictures. I got my obligatory "I am sorry Mommy, I will tell the truth, I won't pee-pee in my pants" acknowledgement. She hoped into the bed and we read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom - her new favorite little story.

This brings me to another point. We have this great book called, "2oth Century Children's American Classics." Actually, I shouldn't put that into quotes as I am not sure that is the correct title. Ordered it from Amazon and it is a fantastic collection of all the greatest children's books. Even Ethan will still pull it from the shelf. It has Amelia Bedelia, Curious George, Madeline, some Golden Books, Francis, even Goodnight Moon - all the great books from our generation as well as new ones like Chicka Chicka Boom Boom. It is a great gift idea - although now that I think about it, I have never given it as a gift. Probably because I am usually don't plan far enough ahead to order it, or even more accurately leave my house early to run by Target (buying tissue and a bag too) to grab something quick or a gift card on the way to the party. Sound familiar? Even though no one took me up on my last attempt to get comments, I will offer this question - what have been your favorite books to read to your kids, what have been their favorites (read obsession), or what did you love as a child?

On the back front - get it - update on the back? Jay got on the horn yesterday and begged the Neurologist to see me. They worked me in that day - he could sell reading glasses to a blind man. This was an appointment originally scheduled for the 13th. The verdict is that I need to get into the neurosurgeon sooner than the 22nd. They also upped my pain meds - whoo hoo and added in a med for nerve pain. I have lost the reflex in the bottom of my right heel and won't get it back. It is not a big deal, according to this doc as I don't really need it anyway. O - kay. A little strange, but, ok. I saw the MRI - they said it was "acute", "that I really know how to do it right", "a pretty nasty situation." There is disc fragment pressing on the S1 root which will need to be removed.

They called this morning to tell me they were unsuccessful in getting me in the neurosurgeon's any sooner than the 22nd. HOWEVER, the nurse I saw called me a couple of hours later to tell me that a PA from the neurosurgeon's office happened to come by and the doc presented my case. I was told that he also felt that I needed to be seen sooner and was going to try to get me in. I haven't heard anything yet, but hope to on Monday. All in all, I would say that the prayers are working. Thank you!

So, why am I not asleep after taking all my meds tonight? Because I am also taking Prednisone which counters all the sleepy side effects of oxycodone and jazzes me up like I am on crack. (like I know what it is like to be on crack) Basically, it just means I get to take one of my lower level oxycodones in just an hour. Thanks for reading my babble. Night y'all!

No whining - just an update

I promise that I will not let this blog become a spiraling ode to whining, complaining and self-pity. Especially after knowing what is happening in Myanmar (formerly Burma), what do I really have to say in comparison to that.

But, to be informative, that two friends who are physical therapists say that it is highly likely I will have back surgery. I have a large protruding disc fragment that is usually not healed by conservative measures and PT. Bummer. The good side is the surgery is relatively minor and some patients even feel relief in the recovery room. I think I have to lay low 6-8 weeks after.
The earliest appointment for the neurosurgeon is the 13th - and that is not the particular office or doc I wanted. I also have an appointment on the 22nd for the practice I wanted, 3oth to get my doc of choice. I was going to wait it out until the 30th (although I hadn't figured out how), but then was told that I could risk permanently damaging the root nerve if I wait too long.

My prayer requests:
1. Healing and relief from pain.
2. Doctor has a cancellation and I can slip in there sooner
3. Surgery, if needed, would happen before the end of May for two reasons
a. Kids are still in school
b. My mom leaves to visit little John and Alisa until the end of June
4. Jay - because the new company just started and he needs me. I am limited in what I can do.

I am to let pain be my guide - so basically no driving. No lifting, no bending at the waist - walking will be limited because pain increases the longer I stand - I can take about 10-15 minutes and then I have to lay down.

So - call me, come visit me, email me. Predictably, I will be at home.

Musings about Bobo

Some of you are familiar with our faithful companion, Bobo. He came to us through Animal Rescue because Jay thought our other dog, DINKY, needed a friend. Upon arrival at our house, Bobo was already a...how can I say this with love...a dog only his mother could love. Long skinny legs, large round body, short black hair, small head, large ears, purple spots on his tongue indicating some minute amount of chow in him - you know a complete mutt. He was extremely hyper, too. I would come out the garage door with one knee already poised to knock him down before he jumped on me with his dirty paws.


Over the years Bobo has endured multiple injuries, and yet, he continues to thrive. He has outlived two other dogs, two cats, 2 sets of love birds (4 in total), and two hermit crabs - a testimony to his ability to beat the odds. It has been a dismal pet history in our house (good for another post). He fought back heart worms, a car injury that reduced him to one eye and dermatitis which has left him practically bald on his back half.

The one eye is what seems to fascinate most people. We could have forked out $700 for a prosthetic eyeball, but decided that was a little ridiculous for a dog. So, they just sewed it up, leaving a sunken spot where the eye would have been. It only took a couple of days of running into things for him to compensate. And, it wasn't long before he took out a non-rabid raccoon in one swift pounce.

The kids like to announce to complete strangers, loudly, "We have a dog with one eye because my Daddy ran over him with the car." Not all entirely true. Jay was driving his car with a trailer attached and it seems that Bobo just got caught between the two. The eye came out and was just sort of dangling there. Quite sickening. That was 5 years ago.

So when it was "pet week" at school, Ethan a was a little apprehensive. I don't know if it were out of embarrassment of our slightly decrepit dog or what. I showed up with Bobo and he was instantly a hit with the boys. The girls pretty much said Ewwww and stood back. The boys all wanted to examine the eye socket and I had to prevent them from touching the area, intrigued as they were. Kind of put Bobo in a fresh perspective for Ethan.

This week, I heard Lily making up a song about Bobo. It was to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel." I thought it was pretty creative, yet also a little gross, when she sang, "Pop! goes the eyeball!"

Overall, Bobo has it made. He has the run of outside. He may venture over to our neighbor to mingle with his three dogs, but normally just hangs around here. He has a dog door to garage which rarely gets below 55 degrees. He has a continuous water and food bucket. Most people are surprised to see that he has learned to pace himself with his food and doesn't gorge himself to death. He doesn't know any tricks. He just runs away with any balls thrown in his direction. I would venture to say he is intelligent because if I linger too long in the garage or mention the word 'bath' he won't come near me.

Up until now, he has been about as low maintenance as a dog can be. However, that has changed a bit with the dermatitis, which has taken its toll. We have tried multiple remedies which have not worked. We have found that weekly baths and a topical spray provides some relief. But, ultimately, his physical appearance condition make him look horribly neglected and paints us as inhumane animal owners.

It is nice to see that his appearance doesn't change the kids' view of him. Sadie brought home a super sweet and rather large picture of Bobo that she had drawn. I noticed that she had drawn spots on him - which in real life he doesn't have. I asked and she replied - those are his bald spots! Oh. She wrote on the picture," I love Bobo. He dus not have a i." I love kindergarten spelling.

I don't think the kids will ever forget him. I know I won't.

So, to open some dialogue in my comments section, I ask the question: What was your most memorable pet and why?

I was right all along

So, I just went to pick the kids up. It was so painful I actually omitted some shrieks. I think I scared the kids and I hate that. I got home, hit the bed and grabbed the phone. I was getting an appointment with the doctor this afternoon and I wasn't leaving until I had an answer.

Well, I broke down on the phone with the nurse. She was kind. She said, well, we got the results from your MRI - has no one called you? No - they haven't. Well, we are trying to get you an appointment as soon as possible with a neurosurgeon. You have a very large protruding disc. A nurse will call you as soon as we have the appointment set.

I think I started crying harder at that point - not because of the diagnosis, but because there was a diagnosis that didn't make me look like a complete hypochondriac. I still would like some more/stronger pain medication at this point.

I have no idea what this means, however. If someone does, will you please let me know?!?!?!