As you all know, we have some wicked outlandish conversations at my house. Its pretty much the norm, as a matter of fact. Well, while Mike was in the hospital, Sean came to visit every day. As Mike slept a lot, I was glad of the company. While we were watching what passes for TV there, an advertisement for a documentary on the zombie phenomenon in pop culture came on. And this conversation ensued~
Me: I hope we're home by then, because I totally want to watch that.
Sean: Me too. Just to laugh at your generation's ideas about zombies.
Me: 'Scuse me?
Sean: You know, now that my generation has actual fact to support zombies. We were raised with enough knowledge of DNA, genomes and molecular mutation (I must admit that at this point all I heard was blah, blah, blah) that we understand how zombies could happen and why they aren't really dead.
Me: I'm not really sure what you just said, but I think you're full of sh*t.
Sean: I'm not full of sh*t. I'm just smarter than you.
Me: I'll give you that you have a higher IQ, but that means nothing when it comes to zombies, because I'm like a freakin expert here. And zombies are too dead. They're the walking dead. Duh. Everyone knows that. They travel in hordes.
Sean: No they aren't. Zombies are live people who blah blah blah.
Me: (Somehow, my brain has jumped the track and I'm off course) OMG. Do you think sharks could become zombies? I mean if dogs and cats can become zombies, then sharks could right? That's freakin scary. Or alligators! What's scarier than a freakin zombie alligator?!
Sean: Um. Sharks and alligators already attack people so I'm not sure they'd be any scarier as zombies than they already are.
Me: Oh. Well then let's pick something that doesn't already eat people. What about Giraffes? Pretty non-scary to begin with but all of a sudden, wham!! Scary!!
Sean: Giraffes are herbivores, they eat leaves and grass. So they'd just go around attacking trees. Not scary. Extremely goofy.
Me: It doesn't matter what you eat before you become a zombie. The mutation that causes zombiefication would cause a craving for flesh. Therefore, anything that became a zombie would eat flesh.
Sean: Their digestive systems couldn't handle flesh. They'd still eat leaves.
Me: They're dead! Do you think vegan zombies are going to go around eating beans? No! They're going to eat people.
Sean: But human digestive systems are equipped to eat meat. It's not a matter of evolution, its a matter of preference. Giraffes don't prefer leaves, they're genetically programmed to eat them.
Me: (jumping the track once more because its how I roll, peeps) Wait! Do you think if Giraffes "accidentally" ate flesh, they'd develop a craving for it? (I did do air quotes on the "accidentally")
Sean: Zombie giraffes or regular giraffes?
Me: Oh regular. Not zombie, live giraffes.
Sean: How is a giraffe going to "accidentally" ingest flesh?! I think you'd have to practically force feed it to them.
Me: Okay, so say a serial killer works at a zoo and he wants to dispose of a body so he cuts it up and mixes it with the giraffe's food.
Sean: I think if a serial killer worked at the zoo, there are far more likely animals to feed a body to. You know, like Lions or Tigers.
Me: Okay okay, so say he just accidentally gets some in the giraffe's food. Taste for flesh, or no?
Sean: I think it would get very sick, so no.
Me: Whatever. Man eating Giraffes. I think they're scary.
Sean: Nope. Just goofy.
Me: I hope it eats you while you're busy laughing at it.
I'm pretty sure there's a story in there somewhere. And you all might want to look a little closer next time you go to the zoo. Giraffes have really big teeth.
Happy Sunday,
♥Spot
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The one where I get angry...
Yep. I'm angry today. I'm angry at my husband. Why? Because I love him, that's why. But he doesn't listen very well, so I'm writing him this letter. And I know he'll see it because he reads my blog.
Dear Mike,
I love you. Do you know that? You should after what we've been through the last year and a half, the good, the bad and the hideously ugly. I've been right by your side, through it all. Sometimes for days on end.
I can't possibly let you know exactly what it was like to sit by your bedside in the ICU after the accident and wait and worry and make deals with the Universe in my head for your survival. I can't tell you what it was like to try to stay awake, convinced that something bad would happen if I closed my eyes, if for a second, I lost my focus.
I can't tell you what it was like, even after you were doing better, to be afraid to leave the hospital, to leave your side. No one told you how I'd begin to shake if I was gone longer than a half an hour. How great the need to keep you in my sight was.
I can't tell you how hard it was for me to let you out of my sight once we were back home. How scared I was to let you drive anywhere by yourself. How I sat there, staring at my phone, waiting for the text saying that you made it safely.
But I did it. You pulled through and so did I. And gradually, I learned to let it go, that I didn't have to be constantly vigilant, that it was going to be OK.
Then you got really sick in February and we did the hospital thing again. Luckily, it was over quickly and you were better, nearly overnight. And you were cranky. But I stayed there with you and I put up with your crankiness, because I was still so grateful that you were alive. Ok. Little speed bump. No big deal.
Then last weekend you got sick again. At first, I wasn't really that worried. I hated that you were feeling so bad, but I figured a night in the hospital, IV fluids and antibiotics and you'd perk up. Just like February. But it didn't happen that way. You ran a high temp for 3 days. Your white count shot up. The doctor was stumped. I was petrified.
I can't tell you what it was like to be there, again. Doing the bedside vigil and wondering if you were going to kick this thing or if it was something much more serious. You were asleep more than you were awake and you weren't real clear when you were awake. But you never knew how scared I was, because I didn't show it. And when you began to worry, I'm the one who curled up in the bed beside you and gave you a pep talk.
And you pulled through again. And you began to get sarcastic and I knew you were getting better. We came home yesterday and you slept mostly. The kids remarked that when you were awake, you were grumpy. Tell me about it. And yet, I didn't hold it against you.
So why am I angry? Because after all of this, you still refuse to take care of yourself. The doctor said that you still have the pneumonia and you were supposed to go home and rest. I'm pretty sure that didn't mean going immediately back to work this morning. Remember last night when you got up, walked from the living room to the kitchen and had a coughing fit so bad, you doubled over? Remember how you had to sleep sitting up in the chair last night, because you couldn't breathe?
And yet, this morning, you were gone before I got up and didnt' come back in to take a break for four hours. Does that sound like resting to you? Really? And so I fussed at you. And you said you hadn't done anything physical except drive around in your truck and talk to people.
Well, driving isn't resting. And talking to people is what got you into this in the first place. People have a million germs and I know for a fact that you weren't wearing a mask like you should have been. I'm pretty sure you didn't have any hand sanitizer either. You're immune system is already in a seriously weakened state and yet you insist on pushing your luck. So we had words. And I told you that next week when you're in the hospital again, I'm not going to be there. Because its not fair. Its not fair to put me in that position when you can avoid it. I told you I'd hire a babysitter to sit with you. Its an idle threat because you know I wouldn't do that. You know I'll be there.
You insisted that you'd be fine. I wondered when you developed psychic powers and the ability to know the future and why you hadn't shared that with me before. Maybe you will be fine. I hope so.
But for now, as I sit in my office, listening to you cough up a lung in the living room, I'm a tad on the skeptical side. So I'm not speaking to you. Because its not fair to yourself, its not fair to your job, and its damn sure not fair to the people who love you, to take risks with your health. But you don't listen. So I'm saving my breath.
Love,
Me
Sorry for the rant peeps, but sometimes people need to know what you're really thinking.
♥Spot
Dear Mike,
I love you. Do you know that? You should after what we've been through the last year and a half, the good, the bad and the hideously ugly. I've been right by your side, through it all. Sometimes for days on end.
I can't possibly let you know exactly what it was like to sit by your bedside in the ICU after the accident and wait and worry and make deals with the Universe in my head for your survival. I can't tell you what it was like to try to stay awake, convinced that something bad would happen if I closed my eyes, if for a second, I lost my focus.
I can't tell you what it was like, even after you were doing better, to be afraid to leave the hospital, to leave your side. No one told you how I'd begin to shake if I was gone longer than a half an hour. How great the need to keep you in my sight was.
I can't tell you how hard it was for me to let you out of my sight once we were back home. How scared I was to let you drive anywhere by yourself. How I sat there, staring at my phone, waiting for the text saying that you made it safely.
But I did it. You pulled through and so did I. And gradually, I learned to let it go, that I didn't have to be constantly vigilant, that it was going to be OK.
Then you got really sick in February and we did the hospital thing again. Luckily, it was over quickly and you were better, nearly overnight. And you were cranky. But I stayed there with you and I put up with your crankiness, because I was still so grateful that you were alive. Ok. Little speed bump. No big deal.
Then last weekend you got sick again. At first, I wasn't really that worried. I hated that you were feeling so bad, but I figured a night in the hospital, IV fluids and antibiotics and you'd perk up. Just like February. But it didn't happen that way. You ran a high temp for 3 days. Your white count shot up. The doctor was stumped. I was petrified.
I can't tell you what it was like to be there, again. Doing the bedside vigil and wondering if you were going to kick this thing or if it was something much more serious. You were asleep more than you were awake and you weren't real clear when you were awake. But you never knew how scared I was, because I didn't show it. And when you began to worry, I'm the one who curled up in the bed beside you and gave you a pep talk.
And you pulled through again. And you began to get sarcastic and I knew you were getting better. We came home yesterday and you slept mostly. The kids remarked that when you were awake, you were grumpy. Tell me about it. And yet, I didn't hold it against you.
So why am I angry? Because after all of this, you still refuse to take care of yourself. The doctor said that you still have the pneumonia and you were supposed to go home and rest. I'm pretty sure that didn't mean going immediately back to work this morning. Remember last night when you got up, walked from the living room to the kitchen and had a coughing fit so bad, you doubled over? Remember how you had to sleep sitting up in the chair last night, because you couldn't breathe?
And yet, this morning, you were gone before I got up and didnt' come back in to take a break for four hours. Does that sound like resting to you? Really? And so I fussed at you. And you said you hadn't done anything physical except drive around in your truck and talk to people.
Well, driving isn't resting. And talking to people is what got you into this in the first place. People have a million germs and I know for a fact that you weren't wearing a mask like you should have been. I'm pretty sure you didn't have any hand sanitizer either. You're immune system is already in a seriously weakened state and yet you insist on pushing your luck. So we had words. And I told you that next week when you're in the hospital again, I'm not going to be there. Because its not fair. Its not fair to put me in that position when you can avoid it. I told you I'd hire a babysitter to sit with you. Its an idle threat because you know I wouldn't do that. You know I'll be there.
You insisted that you'd be fine. I wondered when you developed psychic powers and the ability to know the future and why you hadn't shared that with me before. Maybe you will be fine. I hope so.
But for now, as I sit in my office, listening to you cough up a lung in the living room, I'm a tad on the skeptical side. So I'm not speaking to you. Because its not fair to yourself, its not fair to your job, and its damn sure not fair to the people who love you, to take risks with your health. But you don't listen. So I'm saving my breath.
Love,
Me
Sorry for the rant peeps, but sometimes people need to know what you're really thinking.
♥Spot
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
The one where things look up...
Thought I'd blog for those of you who aren't my Facebook friends. Mike has finally rounded the corner and is feeling better. His temp hasn't gone above 100 all day. He's still got a headache and he's still wiped out, but he's feeling better. The doctor has decided to switch him to oral antibiotics and let us go home tomorrow, provided the fever stays down tonight. Fingers crossed. We're both ready to head home.
The doctors still aren't sure exactly what Mike has, but they do know what it's not. It's not cancer. (whew!) His heart is good, no infection, no leaky valves, looks strong. It's not Lyme disease, Lupus, West Nile Virus, or meningitis. *sigh of relief* The best guess? He caught a virus sometime last week, then he was exposed to strep (most likely) last weekend. The two together were too much for his almost non-existent immune system, and quickly ran rampant through his body. While in the hospital, he also developed pneumonia. But after all of the antibiotics and antivirals, he's finally recovering. He won't be up to speed for another several days, (and if he tries to be- I will duct tape him to the couch- for real- I'm not playing around here) but at least he'll be home.
So here are a few funny episodes from our hospital stay:
After we finally get to our room, at 11pm Saturday night~
Me: Boy, the coyotes sure are...*trails off*
Mike: *stares at me*
Me: That's a siren, isn't it?
Mike: Yep.
The nurse asking Mike questions during admin~
Nurse: So how did all this start?
Mike: *mumbles*
Nurse: *looks at me*
Me: *translates* It's cool, I speak mumble.
And after too many days trapped in a tiny room together~
Mike: I'm just going to warn you, I'm feeling really grumpy and whiny today.
Me: And I'm just going to warn you, that if get too bad, they'll be picking linen fibers out of your nose at your autopsy.
Nurse: (who happened to walk in during conversation) *gasps*
Me: Just kidding. I don't get to collect the insurance money if I kill him.
Nurse: *still looking at me like I've lost my mind*
Please keep your collective fingers crossed that all goes well and we are home tomorrow! And thank you for the many good wishes and positive thoughts and prayers. I love you guys.
♥Spot
The doctors still aren't sure exactly what Mike has, but they do know what it's not. It's not cancer. (whew!) His heart is good, no infection, no leaky valves, looks strong. It's not Lyme disease, Lupus, West Nile Virus, or meningitis. *sigh of relief* The best guess? He caught a virus sometime last week, then he was exposed to strep (most likely) last weekend. The two together were too much for his almost non-existent immune system, and quickly ran rampant through his body. While in the hospital, he also developed pneumonia. But after all of the antibiotics and antivirals, he's finally recovering. He won't be up to speed for another several days, (and if he tries to be- I will duct tape him to the couch- for real- I'm not playing around here) but at least he'll be home.
So here are a few funny episodes from our hospital stay:
After we finally get to our room, at 11pm Saturday night~
Me: Boy, the coyotes sure are...*trails off*
Mike: *stares at me*
Me: That's a siren, isn't it?
Mike: Yep.
The nurse asking Mike questions during admin~
Nurse: So how did all this start?
Mike: *mumbles*
Nurse: *looks at me*
Me: *translates* It's cool, I speak mumble.
And after too many days trapped in a tiny room together~
Mike: I'm just going to warn you, I'm feeling really grumpy and whiny today.
Me: And I'm just going to warn you, that if get too bad, they'll be picking linen fibers out of your nose at your autopsy.
Nurse: (who happened to walk in during conversation) *gasps*
Me: Just kidding. I don't get to collect the insurance money if I kill him.
Nurse: *still looking at me like I've lost my mind*
Please keep your collective fingers crossed that all goes well and we are home tomorrow! And thank you for the many good wishes and positive thoughts and prayers. I love you guys.
♥Spot
Monday, October 17, 2011
The one where we're in the hospital again *sigh*
So we're in the hospital again. You'd think by now we'd have a wing of our own, or at least a room, or maybe just a special comfy chair for me. But no, no special treatment. Except that we have the best doctor- Dr. (House) Saeed, the adorable hero of this post.
It started Saturday. Mike had to get up super early, like butt-crack of dawn early, before the sun, at 4am. He says he felt fine when he got up. I wouldn't know because I was doing what all (mostly) sane people do at that time- sleeping. But by the time I woke up, at the much more reasonable time of 8, he had texted me to say he wasn't feeling well. I told him to come up to the house and get some Motrin. He did, I took his temp, no fever, but he said he was cold. Unfortunately, that is usually exactly how him getting very sick starts. In fact, he put on pants (instead of shorts, it really was a lovely day out) and grabbed a jacket. By 2 he was back inside for more Motrin and a stocking cap ( I kid you not). Still no fever. By 3:30, he was down for the count. He could barely make it to the couch and was shivering so bad his teeth were chattering. Fever of 101. I called the Dr. answering service and Dr. Saeed just happened to be the one on call. He said take him to the ER, he was admitting him. I was smart enough to pack a bag!
By the time we got to the ER, his fever was up to 102.9, his headache was killing him and he was miserable. His white count was double what it should be and we were, of course, staying. They finally got his fever to break about 4am, but it kept spiking back up. When the fever was gone, he felt some better, but mostly slept. Not knowing exactly what was wrong they started giving him massive doses of antibiotics. When those didn't seem to be doing it, they added antiviral meds. His white count continued to climb. Nothing seems to be working.
Today, he woke up with 101.9 fever and feeling horrible. They finally got the fever broken, but he's definitely feeling less than well. His white count had dropped a half number. The Dr. said he thought that was mild progress and the fact that his fever was a little less was a good sign. That was at 3pm.
At 4pm his fever spiked back to 102.9. They got it broken again, but still. After so many antibiotics and antivirals that I'm almost positive he's going to glow in the dark, he shouldn't be running such a high fever. They are running two more tests tonight, and I hope that we have some kind of results tomorrow. Today was nothing but waiting and hoping that something would start working.
I don't know how long we will be here. They can't let him go with the fever or the white count this high. We're both frustrated and he's feeling badly. (I know this because he's not complaining about being here. Normally he's begging to go home and stressing about work. He's still stressing a little about work, of course, but only when he's not feverish. Hopefully, tomorrow brings better news, or any news.
Keeping that bedside vigil,
♥Spot
It started Saturday. Mike had to get up super early, like butt-crack of dawn early, before the sun, at 4am. He says he felt fine when he got up. I wouldn't know because I was doing what all (mostly) sane people do at that time- sleeping. But by the time I woke up, at the much more reasonable time of 8, he had texted me to say he wasn't feeling well. I told him to come up to the house and get some Motrin. He did, I took his temp, no fever, but he said he was cold. Unfortunately, that is usually exactly how him getting very sick starts. In fact, he put on pants (instead of shorts, it really was a lovely day out) and grabbed a jacket. By 2 he was back inside for more Motrin and a stocking cap ( I kid you not). Still no fever. By 3:30, he was down for the count. He could barely make it to the couch and was shivering so bad his teeth were chattering. Fever of 101. I called the Dr. answering service and Dr. Saeed just happened to be the one on call. He said take him to the ER, he was admitting him. I was smart enough to pack a bag!
By the time we got to the ER, his fever was up to 102.9, his headache was killing him and he was miserable. His white count was double what it should be and we were, of course, staying. They finally got his fever to break about 4am, but it kept spiking back up. When the fever was gone, he felt some better, but mostly slept. Not knowing exactly what was wrong they started giving him massive doses of antibiotics. When those didn't seem to be doing it, they added antiviral meds. His white count continued to climb. Nothing seems to be working.
Today, he woke up with 101.9 fever and feeling horrible. They finally got the fever broken, but he's definitely feeling less than well. His white count had dropped a half number. The Dr. said he thought that was mild progress and the fact that his fever was a little less was a good sign. That was at 3pm.
At 4pm his fever spiked back to 102.9. They got it broken again, but still. After so many antibiotics and antivirals that I'm almost positive he's going to glow in the dark, he shouldn't be running such a high fever. They are running two more tests tonight, and I hope that we have some kind of results tomorrow. Today was nothing but waiting and hoping that something would start working.
I don't know how long we will be here. They can't let him go with the fever or the white count this high. We're both frustrated and he's feeling badly. (I know this because he's not complaining about being here. Normally he's begging to go home and stressing about work. He's still stressing a little about work, of course, but only when he's not feverish. Hopefully, tomorrow brings better news, or any news.
Keeping that bedside vigil,
♥Spot
Sunday, October 9, 2011
The one where music is useful...
So my husband actually got on me the other day about blogging. No, he wasn't telling me to stop. He was telling me it had been too long in between posts. Apparently, he checks out my blog every couple of days. I found this pretty humorous. I mean, he lives with me, he knows what goes on.
Then he came in yesterday and said that one of the scout ladies (the one who painted the thunder bird sign and did a fantastic job of it) was looking at some pictures someone had tagged on FB of her son and somehow ended up at my blog. He clearly admitted he had no clue how FB worked so I explained how this random occurrence may have happened. Anywho, he said that she started reading this blog and her husband was reading the work on my author blog. So hello new people! I love you. Thank you for reading my ramblings. Of course, if you know Mike and Sean, you know it's all true.
And I know that you guys are still waiting on the wedding post. And I have another post about Sean & I in Ohio, but honestly, I'm swamped with work right now so this has to be just a quick funny post.
We like music. Not unusual I'm sure, except that we have very eclectic tastes and on road trips have to listen to some of every one's music. This makes for some entertaining CDs, let me tell you. Recently, music popped up in a couple of conversations~
On Lu's wedding day, as we were driving to the salon to get her hair done~
Me: So are you excited?
Lu: Yes, very.
Me: Are you super nervous?
Lu: I am. Marriage is a big commitment.
Me: It is. And you come from a long line of very long marriages. And marriage is hard work. But just remember, when times get hard, remember when you were sitting there by the water, he put his arm around you for the first time...
Lu: What?
Me: It works for Tay-tay.
Lu: Are you quoting me Taylor Swift lyrics as marriage advice?
Me: Yes. And also- Love is a battlefield.
And when Sean and I were driving back from Ohio, we were listening to Hot Chelle Rae's "Tonight tonight". At the end of the song, I was singing the "whoa, oh, oh" part.~
Sean: Why are just singing the "whoa, oh, oh" part?
Me: Because I'm good at it. Listen, "whoa, oh, oh"
Sean: You know most people like to picture themselves as the lead singer and sing that part.
Me: Um, I know my limitations. I'm not lead singer material. I'm definitely more of a "whoa, oh, oh" singer. Or maybe a "La, la, la" girl.
Sean: Only you.
Me: I'm comfortable with the back up singer role, because I'm pretty sure that lead singer can't write a story to scare the stuffing out of anyone.
And when my sister, Sean and I were going car shopping~
Me: Sean, you are looking sick and sexified.
Sean: I've got that glitter on my eyes.
Hildi: And your stockings, ripped up the sides?
Me: And his hot pants, on and up.
Hildi: I got Jesus on my neck-a-lus.
Sean: We are who we are.
That's from Key-dollar sign-ha's song "We are who we are" in case you don't listen to Ke$ha. And yes, we're liable to comment with a line from a song at any point in time. No matter the gravity of the situation. Because we really are who we are.
So I hope someone gets a giggle out of this. I will try to post more frequently so my hubby knows what I'm doing. And because you all deserve it.
Happy Sunday,
♥Spot
Then he came in yesterday and said that one of the scout ladies (the one who painted the thunder bird sign and did a fantastic job of it) was looking at some pictures someone had tagged on FB of her son and somehow ended up at my blog. He clearly admitted he had no clue how FB worked so I explained how this random occurrence may have happened. Anywho, he said that she started reading this blog and her husband was reading the work on my author blog. So hello new people! I love you. Thank you for reading my ramblings. Of course, if you know Mike and Sean, you know it's all true.
And I know that you guys are still waiting on the wedding post. And I have another post about Sean & I in Ohio, but honestly, I'm swamped with work right now so this has to be just a quick funny post.
We like music. Not unusual I'm sure, except that we have very eclectic tastes and on road trips have to listen to some of every one's music. This makes for some entertaining CDs, let me tell you. Recently, music popped up in a couple of conversations~
On Lu's wedding day, as we were driving to the salon to get her hair done~
Me: So are you excited?
Lu: Yes, very.
Me: Are you super nervous?
Lu: I am. Marriage is a big commitment.
Me: It is. And you come from a long line of very long marriages. And marriage is hard work. But just remember, when times get hard, remember when you were sitting there by the water, he put his arm around you for the first time...
Lu: What?
Me: It works for Tay-tay.
Lu: Are you quoting me Taylor Swift lyrics as marriage advice?
Me: Yes. And also- Love is a battlefield.
And when Sean and I were driving back from Ohio, we were listening to Hot Chelle Rae's "Tonight tonight". At the end of the song, I was singing the "whoa, oh, oh" part.~
Sean: Why are just singing the "whoa, oh, oh" part?
Me: Because I'm good at it. Listen, "whoa, oh, oh"
Sean: You know most people like to picture themselves as the lead singer and sing that part.
Me: Um, I know my limitations. I'm not lead singer material. I'm definitely more of a "whoa, oh, oh" singer. Or maybe a "La, la, la" girl.
Sean: Only you.
Me: I'm comfortable with the back up singer role, because I'm pretty sure that lead singer can't write a story to scare the stuffing out of anyone.
And when my sister, Sean and I were going car shopping~
Me: Sean, you are looking sick and sexified.
Sean: I've got that glitter on my eyes.
Hildi: And your stockings, ripped up the sides?
Me: And his hot pants, on and up.
Hildi: I got Jesus on my neck-a-lus.
Sean: We are who we are.
That's from Key-dollar sign-ha's song "We are who we are" in case you don't listen to Ke$ha. And yes, we're liable to comment with a line from a song at any point in time. No matter the gravity of the situation. Because we really are who we are.
So I hope someone gets a giggle out of this. I will try to post more frequently so my hubby knows what I'm doing. And because you all deserve it.
Happy Sunday,
♥Spot
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