Dana's Blog
During the ’80’s when everyone else was buying CD players and selling off their turntables at garage sales, I was a holdout for records. I didn’t want the tiny, frustrating to open CD’s. And I also didn’t want to start my music collection all over again. I mean, I had been through it all before with 8-tracks and cassettes. But Albums were my favorite and they had lasted through the switch over with both types of tapes so I figured they weren’t going anywhere. The last one I bought before I finally gave in was Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody. Loved it, loved her. Now I find her a bit scary.
Another holdout for me has been 3D movies. I remember going to them over 20 years ago with the paper glasses that never stayed on and tickled my nose. I never even saw Avatar in 3D. Even though everyone was saying, “Oh you have to see Avatar in 3D. It’s soooo much better,” I never gave in to the 3D phenomenon. That is until last Friday night. I, along with two adult friends and their combined five children, went to see Hugo in 3D. It was also available in 2D or regular D, whatever it is called, but we opted for the 3D because it was showing at the best time.
It seems that a high percentage of recent movies are available in 3D and I think I know why. It’s not because it makes it so much more exciting. No, it’s because they charge an extra $3.50 for the luxury. After two and a half hours of Hugo in 3D all I can say is, “I want my money back.”
The movie was cute and all but not worthy of spending my evening wearing stupid, annoying glasses just to see the images in a way that makes me want to reach my hand out and touch them. Which, by the way, brings about teasing from those around you if you do. I could see it if it was an action packed movie, but it wasn’t. Hugo is basically a movie where a little boy goes around winding up clocks in a train station. Well, actually it’s more than that but I don’t want to ruin it for anyone.
And, since I know it’s just a movie and not real life, I don’t really need the added 3D effect. It doesn’t enhance my movie going experience enough to make me want to spend an additional $3.50 to an already expensive evening, what with the markup on popcorn and coke.
And why the glasses? On Survivor the other night, they showed the remaining tribe members a phone with 3D you could see with the naked eye. So, if technology allows it on a tiny phone, why not on a big movie screen?
Question: 3D or regular D?
Dana's Blog
Today is Thanksgiving. Or to be more exact, today was Thanksgiving. I was in charge of all things potato: mashed and sweet. And when I say sweet, I mean sweet. Every ingredient I put in nullified any nutritional value in the sweet potato. I was going to go the healthy route but my niece requested my casserole with the mashed up sweet potatoes mixed with sugar, brown sugar, butter and other fattening things with a mixture of brown sugar and walnut yumminess on top.
I began the day with brunch at my place with a few friends. Stuffed Baked French Toast topped the menu. It was a fun way to begin the day. When I got home from dinner with my family this evening I felt like I had either been cooking, eating or washing dishes all day. But that’s okay. I enjoyed every minute.
My oldest sister Robin, the family historian, likes to make cards and scrapbook. She greeted everyone with a nice Thanksgiving card and poem. My other sister, Chrystal, you know the one who left me stranded with pancreatitis :), likes to play games. She had everyone write down a few things they were thankful for and then we had to guess who wrote them.
Most of the thankful notes mentioned family and friends. One said chocolate. And no, that one wasn’t me. I said I was thankful for my family, friends, that I had a job and a place to live.
This has been a very difficult past six months for me, but I am not complaining. God is good and I am grateful. Very grateful. Forever grateful.
Hope you had a wonderfully thankful Thanksgiving.
Question: How did you spend your Thanksgiving?
Dana's Blog
I have been to the maternity ward of many a hospital visiting friends and their newborns. I have also been blessed to see a friend’s child actually come into this world while in a maternity ward. But never in my unmarried, childless life have I ever been a patient in a maternity ward. That is until now.
Monday I told you about my ER visit last August. Well, when Nurse Sheryl found out the next day that I had not been admitted to have my gall bladder removed she was appalled. She said, “But you threw up in front of EVERYONE; the triage nurse, the nurses back in ER, the doctor, EVERYONE! She assured me at HER hospital they would have done surgery that night.
Instead, my lovely insurance plan hooked me up with a surgeon that was booked out until mid-October. So, for the following two months, I was very careful (for the most part) about what I ate. I had a few smaller attacks during the wait but they just suggested more Vicodin. It never helped and just made me nauseous. It made me wonder how folks get addicted to that drug. I was hoping for at least a little buzz or something! But nothing.
Back in the ER, five days shy of the scheduled surgery, I did my duty and threw up in front of EVERYONE again. Sheryl would have been so proud. This time I was admitted. I got to my room around 4:00 a.m. and was sleepy as well as in a pain med fog, but I was really impressed. My private room was huge and had a bed for my friend to sleep in. I felt so fortunate to be in a five star hospital. It was only later that I found out I was actually in the maternity ward because there was no room at the inn for me down in the regular surgical ward.
The only thing worse about the teasing I received from being in the maternity ward was that it was right next door to the psych ward. I was either scandalizing the church by getting myself knocked up or finding my rightful home among the rest of my crazy peers.
I always thought if I was in tremendous pain while in a maternity ward I would at least get to come home with a baby. But instead, I was the proud mommy of a gallbladder. I was also the proud mommy of a very angry pancreas that kept the surgery at bay for a few days. (A nasty gall stone got loose and lodged itself in the duct leading to my pancreas. That’s not a good thing!)
People always say that hospital stays are very annoying. I did not find that to be the case. I LOVED my nurses, CNA’s and even my phlebotomists. They say you can never get any sleep while you’re in the hospital because they are always coming in and checking your vitals, etc. I didn’t mind. And the bed was soooo comfortable.
When I got back home I thought to myself, “Where is the button that makes my bed go up and down? This bed sucks!” I also missed my nurses. “It is two o’clock in the morning and I have absolutely no idea what my blood pressure is. And can anyone tell me what my oxygen level is please?” I missed being fussed over.
So I was pampered for five days in my first hospital stay. I eventually made it down to the regular wing, but I will always remember my stay in maternity!
Question: Have you ever stayed in the hospital? Was your experience pleasant? (Other than the whole pain or illness reason for being there in the first place.)
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This past August 8, a Monday evening, at approximately 7 pm, aliens invaded my body, lit a campfire and shot each other with darts causing me the worst pain and nausea I have ever experienced. Having grown up with a sensitive stomach I’ve spent many an hour vomiting after consuming rich or high fat foods. Since I am not Jerry from Seinfeld or Ted from How I Met Your Mother I have no proud record of how long it has been since the last time I vomited. It has happened all too often during my lifetime.
But as I was puking up my toes for the 3rd time that evening, I said to myself, “Something is worse this time, but how handy it is that my sister lives just upstairs. I shall give her a call and have her drive me to the emergency room.”
So I called. And called. And called again. Her car was in the driveway so I assumed she was home. I went to her front door and rang the bell. And rang. And rang again. And cried. And through up some more.
Then I remembered she was attending the Bible Study next door. So I went, shaking and sweating with puke bowl in hand, and knocked and opened the door. “I need Chrystal,” I sobbed. “She’s not here tonight. What’s wro…?” But before their final words were spoken I was headed back to her front door for one last try. Ring, ring, ring. Still nothing.
Sheryl a nurse friend of mine lives nearby and I gave her a call. She arrived in no time and I was on my way to the hospital. Yea Sheryl.
They took me right in and gave me some morphine. Hmm…Strange sensation intravenous drugs. You can actually feel it ooze through your body with an, “I can see why people do this recreationally,” thought or two as it does. Alas, this first dose helped only slightly, but enough for me to lie still. I had to wait before they could give me more. After a couple of hours, I suggested Sheryl call another friend, Linda, to tag team with her. Linda didn’t have to work the next day and I wanted Sheryl to get some rest. Linda arrived and Sheryl went home. But not before reminding the nursing staff I needed my fluids bag replaced and that it was time for my next round of morphine. It’s great to have a nurse for a friend.
Being in a pain meds haze I can’t remember exactly when Chrystal texted but I do remember the content. It went something like this: “Hey, what ya doin’. I’m in the backyard on the trampoline. It’s a beautiful night. Come out and enjoy it with me.” I handed the phone to Sheryl, or was it Linda at that point, don’t know. Whoever it was called her and told her where I was.
Turns out Chrystal had been upstairs in her bedroom the entire time, with the air conditioner on causing her not to hear the phone or doorbell.
I will have to share the ins and outs of the reasons why they didn’t take my gallbladder out that night and why I had to wait two months for the surgery in Thursday’s post. But fast forward from August 8 to October 14…
Around midnight the Friday night before my scheduled surgery on the following Tuesday, the aliens were back and I wound up on the bathroom floor again. This time it was much worse and I felt pain in the same place as well as just to the left and in my back. So, once again, I called my sister upstairs; no answer. She was obviously sleeping with her phone off. I had texted her a few hours earlier telling her I wasn’t feeling well and received no answer then as well. So, wasting no time, I called my friend Dawn, waking her up, and cried, “Make them TAKE IT OUT!!!” She couldn’t quite tell what I was saying because I was crying so badly, but she assumed what was happening and made it to my house.
Waiting for Dawn to arrive, I christened my sister’s front yard.
I shall share the details of my health issues and hospital stay in Thursdays post as well. Fast forward to my first day back at work two weeks later…
“And thank you, Lord,” prayed my principal Mr. Whittlesey, “that Dana is blessed to have her sister living just upstairs to help her out in times like these.” Seriously? Of course, after the Amen I had to share the real story.
Chrystal really is a great sister and feels guilty she didn’t know I needed help, but that doesn’t make it any less fun to tease her about this.
Question: Are you a “Jerry” or “Ted” and have a non-vomit record going? Or are you more like me?
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I am back at my blogging post after a brief hospital stay and recovery. Thanks for being patient and mentioning that you missed me!
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Me and Amy at her 40th Birthday
Camping Trip. |
Amid fits of laughter my intensely beautiful and surprisingly funny friend waves her arm across the air like a banner and announces, “Aaaaaamy’s Fuuun and Faaaabulous Fortieth Frieeeends and Faaamily Festiiiivitiiies!!!!!” Whee! It became our mantra for the past few weeks looking forward to the camping trip celebrating Amy saying goodbye to her thirties.
I say “intensely beautiful” because the men in Italy could not get enough of her. She was even kissed by our very first waiter in Rome. I was watching him throughout our meal and suspected he felt a little hubba hubba for our Amy. My suspicions were confirmed when he wanted to personally escort her to the restroom, which upon her return is when he planted a juicy one on her cheek. She was also hit on by a leather store owner as well as eyed up and down by any male with a heartbeat as she passed by.
And she’s “surprisingly funny” because of the stereotype that beautiful women aren’t funny. Well she is. Funny in a sneaky, hee hee, sort of way.
Amy is a kindred spirit to me. We both made it to 40 by “never finding a man who could stand to be as deliriously happy as we would make him.” We are the special kind of SingleMinded people that know, though being married would be a wonderful thing, we don’t have to wait for a walk down the aisle for life to happen.
I watched her with the children of her friends attending the, “Aaaaaamy’s Fuuun and Faaaabulous Fortieth Frieeeends and Faaamily Festiiiivitiiies,” and knew she was making an impact on young lives. I saw the respect and admiration of the husbands in attendance knowing she had built in handymen, heavy-thing-lifters and advice-givers when needed.
Being singleminded, when done well, can be Faaabulous when you have great Frieeeends and Faaamily for Fuuun Festiiivitiiiies!
Question: Do you have an Amy in your life?
