1. You can pee anywhere ..oh for crying out loud, you didn’t really believe that title did you? It’s what you call a loss leader, just a little something to get you into the store. I had a second surgery last week – no, not because the first one didn’t take- to repair my ureter which was kinked or sutured or ignored in such a way as to cause my birth canal to become Niagara Falls.
I can’t help thinking that if my gyn-surgeon had listened to me when I said “do not take all of my lady parts” I wouldn’t be lying here writing this. On “Burn Notice” Fiona would say ”Should we shoot them?“. I think of her every time I tell someone new about what has happened to me , because they always ask “Can you sue them?”
Truth is that I probably could sue them but I’m a bleeding heart liberal (or so my right wing friends tell me) and I don’t see the fucking point in bringing a suit. Wait, let me go ahead and digress here :
When you are in recovery, you are fair game for anyone who wants to make a dishonest dollar. Please be careful. Stop being such a control freak, and turn your debit card and financial decisions over to your significant other or your Mom or some responsible adult other than you with the fuzzy mind and the inability to remember the words that you need to describe things and end sentences. End of digression.
So back to this lawsuit. My sister says that I shouldn’t do it for money but I should at least do it for all of the other women who could be hurt by this doctor, as well as what I have lost because my recovery from the first surgery never ended and so far this recovery has been no bed of tulips or whatever. I just want to get better and get back to work and life. I don’t want to spend a lot of time with lawyers or in courts. I don’t want to hurt any nice people (my gyn is a really nice lady) or ruin their practice /life. We’ll see.
So how do I feel? I feel even more emotional now than I did after the first one – because whatever residual hormones I had left are gone baby gone. I feel tired most of the time, short forays from my bed only provide a reason to go back to bed. I have kept a temperature above 99 every afternoon and evening since coming home (we can discuss some other time why they sent me home 24 hours after my surgery, even though my insurance approved a 4 night stay). This catheter is slowly sucking my energy and life-force (although I did manage to score an Amazon deal a few minutes ago,so I still have some juice).
I am sure that there are people who enjoy having catheters and I am also sure that they are really old and just tired of getting out of bed in the middle of the night to go potty.
Two weeks ago I had a total abdominal hysterectomy. Prior to my surgery I did a lot of research on the internet (because the internet never lies) about what to expect. I learned a lot at hystersisters.com as well as other places, that was really helpful.
I had several friends tell me about their hysterectomies ( who knew that it was such a popular procedure?) and honestly, some of their stories were more scary than helpful.
I don’t think my pain has been that bad. The only thing I remember about the recovery room is that when they tried to bring me out I felt the most intense pain I had ever felt in my life. I believe that I saw Scotty and he said something like “I think she’s going to blow” or maybe it was the anesthesiologist – I passed out, so who knows?
Right after my surgery I discovered that the ability to poop and pass gas had become the most important thing in my life. Having been forewarned, I took dulcolax stool softeners to the hospital with me and then promptly forgot that I had them. I walked as much as I could and was given Maalox and Milk of Magnesia and heaven only knows what else, but I still didn’t pass gas until my 2nd day in hospital. I did not eat very much the first few days, mostly drank juice, hot tea and soup. I had no appetite. Once I started eating, I got full really quickly and felt as if I would just burst. Going number two is not easy, I take a stool softener at least onc ea day and prior to my surgery, I watched this video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqdNEx81d2Q.
Painkillers made me feel invincible which only lead to more pain, and then..I realized that my doctor had prescribed a finite amount of Percocet and 800 mg Ibuprofen and I was in a panic. What really happened was that in the hospital they gave me two Percocet every four hours no matter what my pain level was. So I got home and …took two Percocet every four hours. Now some people tell me that their painkillers knocked them out and their husbands had to wake them up to take their meds. this did not happen to me. I woke up in pain multiple times during the night , which sucked only because I am and always have been an awesome sleeper, I lay my head on the pillow at night and I wake up when the alarm goes off, period. I am desperately hoping that the good (sleep) times will return. My doctor prescribed Ambien to help me sleep, I took it two nights in a row but still woke up in the middle of the night, so I stopped because I did enough drugs in the 80s thanks.
There is such a thing as doing too much. I had visitors every single day my first week home. Visitors are really draining, I didn’t want to lay in bed and have people visit my bedside, so I would get up, comb my hair , put on decent clothes and sit with them. I also ventured out to joanns to buy yarn .I realized about 3 days into the first week that I was overdoing it, because I had lots of body aches and could not sleep. But that goes back to the painkillers, they make you feel like you weren’t just gutted and stitched up.
Food literally tastes like crap for a couple of days. The nice lady from the hospital kitchen called me every meal for my order – and every meal I drank tea and sent everything else back. Also things that I like and enjoy doing, I just can’t be bothered with sometimes. Reading, watching TV, drinking coffee, crocheting.
Let’s talk about staples. I read a forum post that was about four pages long, where someone wanted to know if it hurt to have your staples out. Everyone said NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT, NO PAIN involved. Only one person said “yes, it hurts like hell”. But who’s going to listen to that one lonely voice? At 9 days post-op, my husband took me to the doctor to have my staples removed. My staples had been the bane of my existence for nine days and I was happy to have them out…until the nurse pulled the first one. There were I think 15 to 25 staples, the pain increased as she moved from my navel to my pelvis, some of them were scabbed over, I squeezed her hand so hard that I don’t know how she was able to continue. afterwards the doctor came in and gave me a lecture about doing too much ( ok my doctor is female and it was more like when your mother has discovered one of your transgressions and you wish she’d just shut up and beat you already). So I promised to stay in bed for the next two weeks and she gave me a shot of something in my hip ( I do hate needles) which put me in bed for the rest of the day.
I went back to work my first day home ( I work on the computer so I don’t have to leave the house). My office is on the top floor of our house. Before I went in to the hospital, the hubby and I set up my dining room as my recovery office and patted ourselves on the back for thinking of it. It turns out that it’s probably not a good idea to sit up in a chair working for hours on end when your stomach is held together with industrial sized staples. Please see number 5. We ordered an over bed hospital table right after my doctor’s appointment and I wish that we had done that in the first place.
Menopause- since they took everything, I assume that menopause will come soon. So far I’ve had instances of sweating at night – nothing more than my usual night sweats no sheet soaking or any of that. I have not had any hot flashes. I asked my mother, she laughed and said she had never experienced any of the symptoms. Here’s hoping I take after her.
When did doctoring start being about the money and not about the patient? When did it become the norm to have a visit with your doctor where he or she never actually touches any part of your body? I don’t know if it’s the part of the country that I’m in or if this is happening everywhere.
I was recently diagnosed with a huge mass in my uterus which was discovered by my Korean masseuse (I dunno is it politically incorrect to note that my masseuse was Korean? I’m less than a week post op and I really ain’t got time for that, I got pain I’m trying to stay ahead of).
Ok, maybe some doctors don’t like to touch their patients for whatever reason, but how about the one who called in a prescription for something I didn’t have? What if I was totally stupid and went ahead and used the prescription for the thing that I didn’t have? And what about the doctor who would not call in my BP meds refill unless I made an appointment to see him? And he said this to me while I was standing… in front of him… in his office…on a Friday(care to guess when the next opening in his schedule was?).
Today’s post was written by my youngest(who is really,really looking forward to picking up the new pokemon game tomorrow):
It’s been 14 years since that fateful Christmas morning where my parents gifted me with a yellow Gameboy Color and Pokemon Red and Blue. As a kid, I watched Pokemon on TV, so when I ripped off the wrapping paper and saw the word “Pokemon” in big, yellow letters, I flipped out! I never thought I would get to be like Ash Ketchum and become a Pokemon trainer. I remember staying up as late as I could just to play Pokemon. I played all day and all night. I battled other trainers, captured rare and powerful Pokemon, and became the Champion of the Pokemon League. I remember thinking as a kid that this was probably going to be the only Pokemon game I would get to play. Oh boy, was I wrong.
14 years later, I’m now 20 years old and in college studying to become a teacher. In a week, Pokemon X and Y will be released to the masses and I cannot wait to get my hands on it. My mother, a crocheter and very hard working woman, tells me she wants to do something new for her Etsy. I suggested that she should do a Pokemon-inspired line since X and Y are coming out soon. Ever since then, she’s been working nonstop to get it done. So, in celebration of 14 years of Pokemon, I give to you Niseylee’s Pokemon Collection!
I knew that it had been a while since I posted anything, but I did not realize that it had been such a long while. I’ve been really hogtied at work and in my spare time I’ve been working on the Fall/Winter collection ,which oddly enough) includes cruise wear. We are taking a cruise for New Year’s instead of doing the same ole same ole, so you know where my mind is.
My beautiful niece was nice enough to pose for a few product shots for me. She’s really good at this modeling thing.
My hair has been really dry and pouffy since my last henna because I did not have time to deep condition afterwards. I had planned to end my busy week with a greek yogurt conditioning, but I forgot to buy the Greek yogurt.
On Sunday I found a mostly used bottle of Le Kair Cholesterol (I can’t seem to find Queen Helene down here in Middle Earth) and figured I’d throw an egg and some honey in there and see what happens. I cowashed my hair with a little Pantene Pro V and then I applied my home mix, put a shower cap on and a crocheted tee shirt cap to simulate heat. I left it in for about 4 hours I think. Then I rinsed, applied sweet almond oil and my shea butter mix while putting in about 7 two strand twists.
I am sitting at my desk today, running my hand through my hair, and I can’t help but notice how soft it feels. Reminds me of the days when I used to relax my hair.
So here’s the mix:
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons honey (i’m guesstimating, I just squeezed a bunch in there)
Mix well with a spoon or fork and apply to hair.
I think that I may have mentioned before that I’m slightly craft ADD and usually have 10 ideas in my head at one time, none of which I actually have the time to work on since I’m probably crafting the ten ideas from 3 months previous. Back in 2011 I came to Middle Georgia (sounds like a place in a sci-fi novel doesn’t it?) for work. The first month or so my husband and I stayed in a room at Value Place (it’s an hotel/studio apartment type thing). To keep from going crazy I started crocheting around my old concert tees that I had saved from the 80s.
Once the holiday season is past, my Etsy sales are nonexistent, which is great for me because it means that I have time to experiment with designs (some not so good btw), learn new things etc. My latest “thing” is getting back to t-shirt recycling I am obviously a t-shirt hoarder and they (like my odd bits of yarn) must go somewhere other than a landfill.
Seriously, who doesn’t love Tweetie Bird?
Today I made this cute pillow cover for my youngest who was in Marching Band back in high school. It looks as though there is no crochet involved BUT – I did crochet a very long chain which i ran through the hem of the shirt to tie the bottom of the pillow – which makes the cover washable and reusable, I hope he’ll have it for years to come.
So there I was writing this awesome post and one half of it has disappeared. Arrrgh.
Anyway I was about to tell you about my new idea for naturalistas who dry their hair with or wrap their wet hair in a t-shirt (leaves your hair so much softer and less frizzy that a towel). It’s still just an idea/experiment. Here’s a sneak peak:
My upcycled tee shirt idea for naturalistas
Visit my Etsy site for more of my repurposed tee ideas, unfortunately I don’t yet have the time that it would take to create AND create tutorials, but I hope to share some of my ideas in the future.
Let me start by saying that this blog post is not about what you’re thinking it’s about.
I’ve been thinking about the whole concept of “overweight” and what the numbers and measurements do to us and why we diet and exercise like mad men and women (right before succumbing to lunch at Golden Corral cause everyone’s going).
This morning , as I rooted about in my closet for something comfortable to wear to the grocery store, it came to me. It’s not my skin that I’m not comfortable in – it’s my clothes.
I was one size (small to medium) most of my life and then suddenly I wasn’t anymore. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t get back to the place where I was the most comfortable in my clothes.
The thing is that there are plus size (how come there isn’t a minus size? I’m just thinking out loud here) women who know how to work it. Their clothes, their hair, their make-up is just always on point. These women look so good that their being “overweight” is a non-issue.
I am not one of these women. I gained weight and totally lost my sense of style. When my reflection and I cross paths we both cringe. I am constantly trying to lose weight hoping that I will regain my good taste in clothes and remember how to dress myself.
I am not alone. I talk to women all of the time who are doing Sensa, Zumba, the military diet etc. and so on – just so they do not have to start buying clothes in the next size range. I actually wonder if big girls who wear it well, do so because it’s the size they’ve always been and it’s their comfort zone. OK that might be a reach, my sisters have been all along the size spectrum and they always look good.
Maybe it is just me…..maybe I should jump into the ocean and get out of the Nile.
20 years ago on a day not unlike today, The Woodchuck (well of course he wasn’t the Woodchuck back then, he was still just “Honey”") and I had still not selected a first name for the child were expecting.
We knew that his first name would not be Simon (family tradition be damned). The problem was that we needed a name that had flow ( I used to write poetry and The Woodchuck still had Tony Rock in his blood, so yes we needed flow), and were having trouble finding (OK agreeing) on anything that would flow into Simon.
Looking back I can’t think of why we agonized so much over a name. I mean , really I gave my oldest a majestic name “Rahsheen” what do people call him? Rah. What’s the point? Oh and did I mention that after all that agonizing, our little one once asked us -” why didn’t you give me a normal name, like Jonathan?”
So anyway, back to 20 years ago – Final Four (yes I know it’s not really called that once they get to the final two, I am obviously a horrible sports fan) is on (this is back when there was one TV in the house and everyone watched what was on said TV), Michigan , North Carolina. I’m rooting for Michigan (I don’t remember why, no). We’re discussing names still, Juwan – No. Chris? No. Jalen Rose – I had a teacher with the last name Rose when I was in Elementary School – wait – Jalen Simon – now that flows.
The Fab Five didn’t win that night (i think it was the night of the time out incident, I also think I mighta got teary eyed), but strangely enough – I don’t remember the names of any of the North Carolina players. Maybe the Woodchuck does.
I don’t Facebook much anymore, but when I do, I inevitably run into some political discussion about black and white or male and female. Discussions usually started by people who don’t realize that what they know is all they know and probably all they will ever know because that’s how they like it. But what really gets to me is the people who jump into these discussions armed with nothing, not realizing that they are just as clueless as the ignorant ones, and are doing nothing to advance their own cause. They are, as the Woodchuck is fond of saying, going to a gunfight armed with a knife.
Sometimes I still hear people talk about affirmative action. They seem to believe that for some of us (read Blacks and women) success has come only because of affirmative action.
When I began my life in corporate America everyone told me how lucky I was to be a double token. They (and to some extent I) assumed that being black and a woman would take me places. I am still waiting for the magic dust to work.
Further down the road someone else told me that it’s not who you know, or who you blow; it’s how you blow who you know. Well that totally explains the failure of my double token magic fairy “come in here dear boy have a cigar you’re going to go far” dust.