October 6, 2009

Stickers

It's been fun watching my two little girls grow. My youngest is currently two, and still struggles with pronouncing some words. Some words are cute to hear all jumbled up, and others are quite mortifying when out in public.

I enjoy listening to the youngest bat-pup ask for a 'boonana' or calling her sister by a word that sounds like 'molasses'. They make me smile, and often can get adoring comments from the general public. However, just recently, there have been some word complications that have left me looking for a crack in the Earth that might swallow me whole.

I first heard one of these words from the older sister, mimicking what her younger sister had said. Not realizing that it was mimicry at first, I scolded my oldest daughter for saying such a word, and emphasizing to her what a terrible word it is. She pouted and I tried to think of where she had heard such a word so that that person in turn could receive a scolding of their own. The next day, after having scolded my daughter, I was sitting in a waiting room with my girls along with some other clientele of the business I was visiting. Scattered in front of my children were various coloring books and magazines, some of which had stickers in them. The stickers, of course, became their main focus, and they were incredibly excited to have found such a treasure. My youngest started shouting, "niggers! Niggers! 'Ook Mommy, niggers!" I held my breath, thinking of how to react when my oldest chimed in, "Mommy, Pam-Pam said 'niggers'." I thought I would die. From the corner of my eye, I could see the disapproving glares of the others in the waiting room. Finally, I turned to my oldest and told her that her sister was still working on pronouncing her words, so we needed to be patient with her while she learned how to say 'stickers' the correct way. Also, that just because her sister says something, it doesn't make it okay for us to repeat it. Meanwhile, I'm imagining the people in the room thinking I'm raising the future Hitler Youth. Gah. I then also felt bad for having scolded my oldest so harshly when she was simply telling me what her sister had said. She had no idea she was saying a bad word, and wasn't repeating something she had heard from an adult. (Which is comforting to know).

It is also good to know, that my daughter takes all races into consideration when mispronouncing words. Apparently, there are times when she's 'honky'. So, I suppose next time someone calls me a honky, I can simply respond by saying, "no thanks. I've already eaten."

October 2, 2009

Moving On

Well folks, once again my life has been turned upside down. This time, however, it needed to be done so that I could read the expiration date.

I left my husband at the end of June, despite my ongoing issues with my kidneys. I couldn't let my ill health keep me from making the right decision. I decided that I could no longer live with an alcoholic. He had been given plenty of warning about his decision to keep drinking and the consequences if he didn't stop. So, here I am. Batgirl no longer has an anchor, er I mean side-kick.

The pups and I moved in with a dear friend of mine, and it's amazing how much happier we all are as a result. For some time, I actually felt bad that I didn't feel worse, but I guess it was the universe's way of telling me I had made the right move. For once, I was actually surrounded by people that could help me to care for my children while I convalesced. I didn't have to worry if their caretaker was going to be too drunk to take proper care of them. I wouldn't wake up from a medically induced sleep to find their father passed out in the living room while they colored the walls. After I came home from my surgery, I was surrounded by people that helped care for me and my children. There were no rotting dishes in the sink, or piles of dirty laundry threatening to topple over at any moment. I was able to recover with a sense of serenity.

It's been a few months now, and I'm starting to look at my options now that I'm mostly recovered from my ills. I'm looking at Culinary school so that I may improve my skills while I wait for the economy to recover. (Business has been really slow both because of the economy and my health). I'm also venturing out and seeking gainful employment, which should be interesting since I haven't held a job in a little over 5 years. For some reason, I don't anticipate employers hammering down my door just yet. It could happen though, I'm remaining optimistic that there's someone out there crazy enough to hire me. I mean, c'mon, who wouldn't want to hire someone that has all kinds of nifty super-hero gadgets, cooks and runs around in a black vinyl costume all day? If those aren't some amazing qualifications, I have no hope left for this world. hehe.

All in all, I'm feeling really good about my decision to move on. I'm losing weight (I'm only one divorce away from my goal weight), my bloodpressure is back to normal, I'm smiling again, and most importantly, my girls will never have to grow up in a volatile home. They'll see that it's okay for a woman to stand up and not stay with a man that chooses alcohol over his family. They'll see that not only does their mother have value, but through my example they'll see in themselves that they too hold value.

April 30, 2009

Redefininig Normal

–adjective
1. conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural.
4. Biology, Medicine/Medical.
a. free from any infection or other form of disease or malformation, or from experimental therapy or manipulation.
b. of natural occurrence.

So, being laid up and drugged up has been a real thrill. Lying in bed countless hours watching Clean House marathons has been a thoroughly enriching experience. I want to get up and do things but my body punishes me when I do. Just over the weekend I realized I have to remain a couch potato unless I want to redefine my idea of 'normal'.

See, I decided that I would go out and have a little bit of a life Saturday. I picked up my kids, played with them, and even socialized with some friends of mine. It felt really good until about the second half of the day. After taking a couple of percocet and a delauden I was still hurting quit a bit, so we headed home. By the time we got home I was peeing blood and running a fever. Yay!

The blood obviously concerned me so I put in a call to the advice nurse. She said that I should probably make a trip to the VA hospital before the weekend was over. Knowing that the trip would be a wasted effort I just put a band-aid on the problem and waited to call urology on Monday.

Monday afternoon I get a call back from urology and they explained to me that the bleeding and pain is normal for someone that is active. People that are couch potatoes rarely complain about the stent pain because they are just lying around and not causing their body pain or causing it to pee blood. Apparently my activity moves my stent around which is AWESOME! Yay me.

Normal folks. Peeing blood and being in an insane amount of pain is normal. Gah. So, I have a choice be active and pay a HORRIBLE price, or be a couch potato and live a half life until the last week of May. Yes. Awesome. You can all imagine how THRILLED I am.

Well, I'm about to exceed my limit for time spent sitting up. In a short while it's back to bed. I think Designed to Sell is starting. Yay. I hope it's another marathon.

April 24, 2009

Infuriated!!!!! !@#%&*

I'm so pissed I can't see straight. The VA is going to cause me a violent self-inflicted death. I seriously want to bash my own brains in with a hammer right now. I just received a letter from them telling me that they aren't going to pay for an emergency hospital visit. One in which I was taken by ambulance because I was in excruciating pain and convinced I was going to die. Wanna know WHY they denied me? Here's what they claim:

*"VA facilities were feasibly available to provide care."
* "A prudent layperson would not have reasonably viewed the visit as an emergency or thought that a delay in seeking immediate attention would have been hazardous to life or health."

Um, excuse the hell out of me, but WTF????

Let me address these two statements.

1)I went by ambulance. I told them which hospital I was supposed to go to, but they informed me that they couldn't take me to the VA hospital. I had no choice in which hospital they took me to.

2)A prudent !@#&$%&* layperson wouldn't have reasonably viewed my situation as an emergency? So Joe Blow off the street would have seen my writhing on the floor in pain and would have said, "Oh she's fine. Let's just wait and take her later." Or..."I know exactly what her problem is, she doesn't need to go to the emergency room. Her vomiting is just indication of a stomach bug." Seriously??? I don't buy that crap for a second. Even a physician had to send me for tests before determining what my problem was. Any health care professional I know assume the worst just to err on the side of caution and tell me to get to a hospital. My friggin' appendix could have been ready to burst, and had I not gone then who knows what. Pain is your body telling you there is something wrong. Severe pain is your body telling you to get your dumb ass help NOW.

Gawd! I think I'm going to vomit. I'm so mad that I can't think of a word foul enough to express my anger.

April 21, 2009

I had the strangest expeience today in the ER. At one point I could have sworn my teeth had fallen asleep. Hooray for really strong pain meds!
Do cyclop pirates ever wish they could wear an eye patch?

Warning: Random Thoughts Ahead

Just a warning to the blogging world, I can now blog from my cell phone. There will be random senseless posts by the masses beginning soon. Most likely starting while I'm at the hospital tomorrow. Woohoo! Consider yourself warned.

The Wire

No, I'm not referring to some hit cable series. I don't follow that stuff well enough to even know what it's about. I only know of the show from watching 'Ace of Cakes'. *sigh* What a sad existence I lead.

Tomorrow is my final surgery. On one hand, I'm grateful that my pain will soon come to an end and I can quit taking so many meds, on the other I'm terrified that I didn't ask to be referred to a civilian surgeon. I'm feeling increasingly nauseated and restless. I wish I had the faith I had going into my first surgery. I knew that I was in wonderful hands and that everything would go perfectly. However, when it comes to the VA I imagine some sort of back alley surgeon waiting to do a hack job so he would have an excuse to harvest my organs. I just keep telling myself that the surgeons are actually contracted from other hospitals that have impeccable histories of successful surgeries. I think I would be less concerned if they were cutting me open, because then they could just stitch me up if they ripped anything. I think the fact that they have to go through my 'pee hole' makes it even more unsettling. What happens if they tear that up? I like peeing freely into a toilet. If they mess up, could I lose that ability? Gawd.

Seriously, someone needs to come yank me out of my head, it's a scary ass place to be right now. By the time I get in for my surgery tomorrow my legs are going to be twisted around one another because every time I think of them messing up I cross my legs tighter. *shudder*

Man. Okay. I'm going to try and distract myself with some mindless televised entertainment. Keep your fingers (and your legs) crossed for me. Pray the VA doesn't screw up my pee hole.

April 16, 2009

One More to Go

Next week I have my final surgery. I have decided to yield to the will of the VA and allow them to perform the final surgery. As much as I despise and distrust them, I have to admit that the care I have received from their specialists has been quite exceptional. It's their run of the mill ER doctors and primary care physicians that scare the crap out of me. Their lack of compassion or concern is so unsettling. The urologist I spoke with today seemed intelligent and incredibly understanding, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'm not making a mistake putting my well-being into their hopefully capable hands. I'll just be glad when this nightmare is over and I can return to warding off evil and fighting crime.

April 15, 2009

Update

Hey folks! It's been a long, long time. I've missed coming here and rattling off nonsense. Hehe.

Back in September my family and I decided that we'd had enough of Arizona and moved back to California. Living in Arizona was like living at the DMV. No matter what line we waited in we somehow kept ending up at the wrong window.

Since moving back, we've struggled with my side-kick trying to find and keep work. We thought he had a great job back in December and were excited to get back out on our own again. (Living with family just isn't all that fun). The made him all kinds of promises of raises and promotions for him because they allegedly thought the world of him. Then, one day, without notice they laid him off. Several others were laid off laid off just a week later. So, we're back at the starting point, only this time we aren't in a financial position to hold on for very long.

A couple of weeks before my side-kick got the boot from his employer, I came down with a wicked case of kidney stones. (That was the last week of February). Well, my health care is provided through the VA, so I went there for emergency care one day when the pain was excruciating. Well, they were supposed to refer me to urology, but it never happened. After waiting for three weeks for my little appointment letter to arrive, I ended up back at the ER because the pain was so bad. I had gone to Kaiser's ER because they were closer to my house and I needed immediate pain relief. A week following that trip to the ER, I still hadn't received my referral letter, so I made a call to my doctor, who in turn sent me a letter that basically said that I had to prove I still had the kidney stones, bring in films from my last scan, make an appointment with him, THEN he would refer me to urology. The following day I decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided not to take any of my pain meds and as soon as I started hurting went to the VA emergency room and demanded treatment. They then discovered that I had an obstructing kidney stone that could not pass on its own, so, I finally get scheduled to meet the urologist, but not until the 22nd of this month. They called and informed me that I can't have anything done about it until May 6th, despite the fact that there is now an infection and I have fluid backing up into my kidney, causing it to swell. You can imagine how frustrated and upset this made me. Saturday night rolled around, and I was in terrible pain again and went to the VA emergency room where they allowed me to wait in the waiting room for two hours before seeing me. Then they just gave me an injection for pain. When asked if I was ready to go home I told them 'no' and begged them to admit me and take care of it once and for all. They said there was no reason to admit me and sent me home.

Finally, on Easter Sunday I had another attack at my Mom's house, and she called an ambulance. Thankfully, her house is about 45 miles from the VA hospital so I was rushed to a local hospital instead. They immediately treated me for pain and sent me for scans. I told anyone that would listen my story about the VA and everyone agreed that May was too far away for me to be treated. If I waited until May I would lose my kidney. So, the doctor, being the saint that he is, had me transferred to a hospital that has urologists on-call. When he told me he was going to have me treated my mother and I burst into tears. We were so happy that I was no longer going to have to wait for care. I'm not going to lose my kidney after all.
After being transferred to the other hospital I was admitted and given a continuous drip of IV and antibiotic fluids. By Tuesday I was wheeled into surgery and they went to work on fixing my problem. I now have a stint in place that will remain there until I go to have my obstructing stone crushed. In the mean time, my kidney will be able to drain properly and I the medication I have for pain will be able to work properly, so no more trips to the ER.

My children are doing amazing through all of our hardships. We've tried very hard to protect them from our adult problems, and have explained what we can when they do ask. It's amazing how understanding and resilient they are.

My youngest pup will be 2 next month. I can hardly believe how quickly time has passed. My oldest is learning to spell and write her letters/numbers and can even recognize some words.

Well, that's our update in a nutshell. My side-kick continues to look for work and we keep our fingers crossed that our luck changes soon.