Good Sam I Am

I'm sure there are plenty of reasons why I shouldn't post about my recent medical journey on a public blog, but so be it. If there are cyber stalkers out there, then they are already sufficiently punished by having to read about my boring life.

So I've known that I need to have a cyst removed for a couple of months and have the outpatient surgery scheduled for later this month. It has a very high probability of being benign, but it also is growing pretty rapidly so leaving it alone is not an option. It has not affected me much physically other than occasional discomfort. I still run, do my Jillian workouts, pitch fast balls to the boys and even weeded the whole yard on Saturday.  I am not terribly stressed about it. My life is full and very active right now and this little medical side show drama has mostly taken a back seat...until Sunday morning when I woke to excruciating abdominal pain. A couple Advil did nothing. I seriously ration the leftover Percocet from Sophie's birth and only the most extreme cases of pain warrants reaching for that, especially since I only had three left. They only gave me 20 and that was almost six years ago, so that tells you how often my pain justifies it's use. There was no question that this qualified. It can best be described as a contraction in late stage labor that never stopped. Surprisingly, six year old Percoset still works. It effectively relieved my suffering for a few hours but as the narcotic effect began to fade the pain was back with a vengeance. I decided that masking severe pain might not be a wise strategy, and after reaching my doctor followed his advice to get to an ER. I have a fine hospital five minutes from my house, but opted to drive the hour to Phoenix where my doctor is contracted just in case my surgery needed to be moved up, as I strongly suspected this was the cause of the pain.

The Emergency Room at Good Sam is not a pretty place. I delivered both my boys there and did not have the greatest of experiences. They have the best of the best doctors there, but because of that they also have lots of interns and residents trying to learn from the masters.  You have a lot of observation time while waiting for test results, and I can say that most every walk of life is represented. The hospital serves a diverse group of folks. There was a gun shot wound patient that arrived while I was there. I learned that complete toothlessness is a more pervasive problem than I once thought, and some people just seem to enjoy getting some TLC from the nurses as they seemed to not have any real medical emergency. I saw on the news after I got home that a guy had walked into his mother's hospital room there and tried to suffocate her during my stay there. You get the idea.

But I digress. By the time I made it through the front door of the ER I was doubled over in pain and was attended to promptly. Exams, CT scans, ultrasounds, blood and urine test were all performed and came back as "inconclusive." It is certainly better than conclusive bad news, but still very unsatisfying. The appendix is always a popular thing to blame for abdominal pain and I don't fault them for assuming it. I had all the tell tale signs..right side pain, tenderness in the belly, elevated white blood cell counts, nausea and loss of appetite. But I still believed that it was caused by this cyst and not my appendix, so I declined the ever so eager young  interns who offered to remove it for me. I knew that if I had one surgery that the other one would have to be postponed, and I really want it behind me so I can get on with my life. The problem now was that they were afraid of the liability of letting me leave in case I was wrong about the appendix. So I had gotten myself into quite a pickle and was pretty much forced to be admitted for further observation. Because of the pain that I was in, I hadn't eaten anything but a piece of toast and some greek yogurt in almost 24 hours. Because I was now tagged as a potential surgical candidate they wheeled me into a shared room and placed a "no food or water" order on my chart. By this time the morphine had dulled the pain enough for me to realize that I was extremely thirsty and hungry. Let me tell you, beg all you want but if that NOFOW label is on your chart forget about it. I'm pretty sure it was a personal vendetta for declining the appendix offer.

I was vindicated, but not until two days later when my white blood cell count dropped and they reluctantly let me go home to join my family in their spring break. So that's what all the hospital drama was about in case you wondered. I will be glad to get this thing removed and get on with my life. A million thanks to my family who has stepped up to help me so many times the past year I don't even know how to begin to count. And my sweet patient husband who is unwilling to leave me even to eat or drink in my time of crisis. I kept telling him that he was not the surgical candidate but he refused to leave me anyway. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I truly won the lottery when it comes to family, and I wouldn't trade real lottery winnings for that....well maybe the Powerball..but for sure not the regular lottery. Love you guys!

Suessical the Musical

Good news...I completed my last continuing education class which qualifies me to renew my incredibly lucrative real estate license for two more years. Why I keep renewing something that I rarely use, I can't explain other than that is was painful to get and a lingering feeling that I might need it again someday. As fascinating as the online classes were (sarcasm), I've received much more in the way of actual education in living through the throes of this crazy housing market. Some people believe that this is a buyers market, but the supply of homes is way down and the really good deals are rare and get very competitive. I don't know if the banks are hoarding them all, or if all the folks with any money have scooped up any possible rental property in the hopes of selling for big gains later. I suspect it is a little of both, along with other factors.

Also the taxes are signed and delivered to Uncle Sam, which if you're someone in the W-2 category, you wouldn't understand the enormity of that task, especially when you and your co-owner (aka husband) have the kind of lackluster accounting skills that we both seem to possess. But alas, I am happy to announce that our marriage has survived one more tax season!

Dylan's third grade class did the Suessical The Musical (does that really rhyme?)this year. I'm not sure why, but my boys HATE their class plays. Even back at Love of Christ Preschool when they were 3 and 4, I couldn't get them excited about it. It is pulling teeth to get them to go. We always make them go despite the all the protesting. I don't put make up or elaborate costumes on them. I simply sent Dylan with a "bright shirt and jeans" which was the minimal suggested attire. I just don't have the heart to stand up a music teacher who has worked so hard to corral a bunch of punk third graders. He walked on stage and did not do any of the actions to the songs and did his best impression of a ventriloquist if he was singing, but darn it, he was there. I can't force him to like it, but I can encourage respect for a teacher that has worked hard, even if it's not his thing. He told me (after there was zero percent chance of having to do it) that he was offered a speaking part but declined. Having substituted for his class fours times this year, I can attest that he is one of a handful of kids in his class who actually listens, but he of all my kids does not relish the spot light. It's OK. He's averaging a 94% right now. I'm an awfully proud mom even if he doesn't have a future on the red carpet.

His expression says it all. I have this exact same picture of him in all the performances he has ever participated in. (Of course they put Dylan next to the kid whose mom hand knitted a Cat in the Hat hat and bow tie.)