Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Some say morbid, I say funny

I have had some really weird dreams since this pulmonary embolism nonsense has arrived to liven things up around here, but most of them I have forgotten.  

Here's one I remember:

I am viewing my closet from above (good news, right?), like there is no ceiling.  On the floor I see three ladies sorting through my shoes:  my friends Lisa, Jennie, and Alison.  

It just so happens that these are my closest friends with the same foot size as me.  My step mom does too, and my sun-conscious and I feel badly she wasn't included in the dream!!!  I'm so sorry Kathy!

Anyway, apparently I left all my shoes to these wonderful friends, and a scuffle suddenly breaks out between Lisa and Alison.  There are slightly raised, strained voices and gentle, yet increasingly aggressive, shoe pulling.  

While this was going on, Jennie was still on the floor, taking advantage of the other girls' distraction to shove a few extra pairs into a bag on the side.

How funny is that?  

This has been so helpful to me today because every time I think about it I crack up!  The laughs have been much needed ones.  

I'm here to say, my sweet friends, that I plan on sticking around a while longer to use those shoes myself!!!

But when it is my time, Lisa, Jennie and Alison, the shoe collection is all yours.  And Kathy - yours too!!!

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

There really is no place like home

I'm home from the hospital.  I haven't slept the past 2 nights because my roommate snores MUCH worse than my husband ever has, and she has 7,000 loud visitors who don't like to leave.  So this afternoon after I tried to nap and a doctor came in and said "this is a party!!!" I knew it was time to go.

We stopped at the pharmacy on the way home to fill my prescriptions.  Sean went in while my greasy hair and I stayed in the car.  When Sean came back I pretended he surprised me so I could say "what are tryin' to do?  Give me a pulmonary embolism?!?!"

Get it?  'Cause I have a pulmonary embolism???

Then driving home Sean said "that guy in the car in front of us was so scary looking I almost had a pulmonary embolism!!!"

You can imagine the rest of the ride home.  We cracked ourselves up.

I'm so happy to be home.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Here's why I can't sleep...

Apparently I will do anything to have something to write about, even if I don't mean to.

Let me explain.

The day after my last Zumba class I had some pain in my back.  I didn't remember it hurting during the class, or even the same night, but I figured I must have pulled something.  Oh well, I thought, a little hot tub time and it will be fine.

On Friday the pain was still there, and in addition to the back pain it hurt when I breathed in.  It wasn't terrible by any means, and I am no doctor (clearly), so I just figured the back muscle is connected to the chest muscle (sing it!  You know you want to...), and I power Zumba-d with such amazing force that my body needed a little time to recover.  That's how powerful I am, I thought to myself.  Seriously.

Anyway, by Friday night the pain was so intense I had to sleep sitting up in bed surrounded by pillows so I wouldn't roll over.  

Come Saturday I learned that if I'm sitting perfectly straight or standing I'm ok - the pain is much less.  Good because I had a dear friend's birthday party to go to and I didn't want to miss it.  Priorities, people.  Anyway, the party was great, but the pain started to kick in around 10, so my dearest husband and I left early.

That night was horrible.  I have never been in so much pain in my life.  I couldn't sit, I couldn't stand, I couldn't lie down...nothing.  And every breath was so painful it made me cry.  Sean and I both figured I did a huge number on my back and I finally fell asleep sitting straight up sometime around 3:30 am.

There's more.

Now it's Sunday.  I'm supposed to go to a minor league baseball game with Sean and the boys, so I lie down and rest while the pain allowed me to do so.  We finally decided that sitting in a little metal chair was not the best idea for me, so Sean took the boys without me.

Just as they leave I have a minor coughing fit.  And there is blood in the tissue.

Not yet giving myself permission to freak out, at least not out loud, I call our doctor's office and the doc on call tells me to go immediately to the ER.  So off I go, texting Sean. 

Long story short (too late), I'm admitted with a pulmonary embolism.  A blood clot in the lung.

My experience with PE is only from the show ER, and Lucy died from a PE.  Althought she got stabbed too and had a boat load of other stuff going on, so that's hardly an appropriate comparison, but still.

So when I told my ER doctor (who had nice hair by the way) that Lucy died from a PE, he said "If this thing was going to kill you, you'd be dead already.  You would have died Thursday."

Well that just stunned me into silence.  And those of you who know me know that almost never happens.

Anyway, I got admitted into the hospital and they bring me water whenever I want it.  Isn't that nice?  They give me pain meds too, which helps a little, but I still can't sleep.

Oh, by the way, don't tell my mom!  I don't want to freak her out.  Thanks.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

The Placenta Song

There is a song in my Zumba class called  "The Placenta Song".

It's not really called "The Placenta Song", but that's what I call it.  In the middle of the song, the lyrics go "something something placenta".  I swear.  It could be "left of center" but I really don't think so.  

Which makes me think of other songs where lyrics may or may not be sung correctly, but who cares because it's funny.  When my mom used to sing along with "Flashdance: What a Feeling" on the radio circa '82, she would sing "take your pants down and make it happen".

See?  Funny, right?  Especially if you know my mom.

I remember another friend singing "Dirty jeans, dungarees" instead of "Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap".  Her version is much better.  Another friend sang "She know just what it takes to make a pro-blem" in "Bette Davis Eyes".  Love that - much funnier.  

I'm thinking we should sing our own lyrics loud and proud - and watch people's reactions around us.  Good sociological study, right?

I think I need a hobby.