Post Op Update and Other Gruesome Goings On.

When last I was here hubby and I were anticipating his upcoming colon surgery for the removal of damage done by an abscess caused by Diverticulitis. Never in a million years did I think I would have a need to know how to spell diverticulitis!

The surgery went well and for the first day or two after coming home he was recovering just fine. He had two small incisions with a staple or two and one larger one where the docs hand was inserted. It was this "hand sized" incision that proved to be a problem. One day while changing the dressing I noticed the wound was entirely to red.

We rushed him to the doc and she put him on some potent antibiotics. If I recall correctly it was either the next day or the one after when I hear hubby calling me from the bathroom. He's sitting on the john and nasty looking blood is pouring from the incision onto the floor!! We rush him back to the doc and sure enough there is an infection. Doc yanks some of the staples and opens the wound. I'm given a quick course on how to PACK said wound with fresh dressing every day. Before all the staples were removed the packing was a bitch to say the least. The gauze had to be shoved back under the staples with one of those really long Q-tip thingys. The trick was to avoid snagging the gauze on the staples. To make a long story short, the staples were eventually removed and the packing/unpacking went on until the incision finally closed.  

Hubby was finally cleared to return to work and so far all is well.

As Visions of Semi-Colons Danced in My Head

  Not sure where to go with this. We've been trying to make jokes about hubby's impending surgery. We think of things such as he's losing a colon but gaining a "semi-colon". I've chosen to nickname it "Frankintestine".



  Not long before Thanksgiving hubby started experiencing sharp pains in his lower abdomen. Because he has a history of kidney stones he felt this was simply another attack.





 This has happened one other time since we've been married and after one of the most horrendous rides to the ER  I've ever experienced, I swore I'd never take him again. I understand he was in agony, but he was demanding I run through stop signs and red lights to get him to the hospital faster. With this attack, or what we thought was a kidney stone attack, he hopped into a cab for his ride back and forth. I meant what I said. His options were to take a cab, a limo or I was going to call for an ambulance. You know, if you're not in an immediate need for extraordinary medical care..it's cheaper to hire a limo than an ambulance.  

  After this supposed kidney stone assault he was sent to a urologist who in turn performed surgery on dear hubby. He was left with a stent between his kidney and bladder. At the end of this stent was a long line hanging out of the end of his dip stick!!! I'm not sure if it was threadlike, a wire or a piece of fishing line. I never looked! After two weeks of walking around with this foreign object implanted in his insidie parts it was time for the doc to remove it. This brought about some interesting scenarios. Hubby was hoping they'd knock him out for the procedure. He invisioned the doc standing over him and yanking on the "wire" as if he was attempting to pull start a lawnmower!! As it turned out, the doc simply pulled the entire apparatus out in one clean stroke.

  Reveling in our ignorant bliss we assumed that all was well.



The stones were gone..we missed Thanksgiving but could still have a wonderful Christmas. We were delusional. In less than a week hubby's pain was back and worse than before! Two more trips to the ER where it was finally discovered he has diverticulitis. There was a large abscess on his colon. He's scheduled for his second surgery in less than a month. When it's over he's sporting a drain tube which is exiting his tummy just below his belly button. At the end of this tube is what the nurse lovingly called a "grenade".

Seriously, it looks like a clear latex grenade. We preferred to call it a pineapple. Seems less menacing. A few days ago the doc removed the drain but hubby will have to have surgery in February to removed the weakened section of his colon. I understand this is a fairly common procedure...but in all honesty...I'm scared shitless!

We thought perhaps it was just crappy luck having two different health issues back to back, but now we're beginning to suspect it was the diverticulitis all the time! The kidney stones were there, but they were in a peaceful mode with no plan of attack. But, we're not doctors and it serves no purpose to second guess what's happened. All we can do is hope that once he has the surgery, he'll be good as new.

Halloween Memories!

Some of my favorite memories of goblin day revolve around the Halloween Carnival at Crane Elementary School in Yuma, AZ. It was an amazing event. There were cake walks, white elephant sales, hay rides, games, tons of helium balloons and the joy of seeing your teachers in costume! 

One of my favorite games involved "fishing". You're given a pole with a string and clothespin attached. When you dropped your line over the wall, a person on the other side would attach a prize to the clothespin. Woohoo!! Sadly, I usually ended up with one of those Chinese finger cuff things!

There was so much to do! Another favorite activity would have been to collect all the balloons we could then inhale the helium out of them. Fun stuff, but apparently something we shouldn't have been doing. Who knew back then? Perhaps that's why I now have a severe case of the "wide-ends"...or "terminal cellulite". Maybe, just maybe it's the cause of the creepy "bat wing syndrome" under my arms? Oh the horrors...if I'd only known.

The huge back doors on the school gym where the carnival was held would be opened up and there would be a talent show. The most memorable act I recall was a band that played "Wild Thing". Imagine what that would sound like now!

As I bring this to an end, I have to mention the Wild Man. During one of the Halloween carnivals a teacher (I think) came running into the gym yelling "the wild man is loose". I don't recall who it was, but one of the adults had dressed in raggedy clothes, he had a chainlike leash around his neck and was running around acting like a crazed escapee from the psych ward! It was great! Kids were running and screaming...some genuinely frightened and some just having a good time. I doubt this would be allowed at the school sponsored "Fall Festivals" today.

The Zombies are at the "Worry Box"!!

When we were very young my Dad and his sister, my Aunt Velma, would take great pleasure in scaring the crap out of us either by story or by deed. One story in particular stands out because it not only involved zombies dragging themselves from the local graveyard to our Grandads' house, there was also mention of the "Worry Box".  It was actually a "weir box" which is used in the irrigation of farm land, but we always called it the Worry Box. The one pictured isn't exactly the same, but still creepy and serves it's purpose.

  At the time Aunt Velma told us this story we were at our Grandads' house which sat WAY out in the middle of several cotton fields. At one end of the dirt road in front of Grandads' house was an area we called "the woods". It was actually just a small stand of mosquite trees, but the adults made them sound just spooky enough to keep us out of them. At the other end of the same dirt road was an old crumbling adobe building surrounded by even older salt cedar trees. We called them "tamaracks", who knew?

Aunt Velma would begin her tale in the graveyard outside of Coolidge, Arizona. She described the zombies coming up out of the ground and slowly making their way toward the house.

She would describe their travels in such detail! They're passing this field, coming down this dirt road and finally..."they're by the WORRY BOX"!! You have to understand that the worry box was only a short distance from the house. We could just imagine the zombie horde shuffling down the dirt road getting ever closer!

One night my Dad and Aunt Velma decided to escalate the fright factor. Daddy had been sitting in the kitchen, we all knew this. While we're listening to the story Aunt Velma suddenly looks very scared and tells us she sees two red eyes looking in the window. We turn around and there they are!! Two horrible glowing red eyes looking right at us. Of course we think it's my Dad but by the time we get to the kitchen he's sitting innocently at the table. They had us running back and forth looking for the monster. Eventually it was revealed that Daddy was simply lighting up a couple of cigarettes and sticking them near the windows.  

Care To Indulge in Some Chocolate Covered Felis Catus!?

I was reminded this morning of an event that happened way back in late 1982 or early 83. My youngest daughter was 2 at the time of her foul deed. This particular Sunday morning she had managed to get out of bed without making so much of a whisper of sound. The end result of this stealth like activity was horrifying yet hilarious all rolled into one. Kind of like finding a large hairy spider laying on the pillow next to your head only to discover it isn't real...just a harmless practical joke. Perhaps not the best example..but you get what I mean.

 We stumble into the living room to find our two year old covered in chocolate syrup. A quick scan around the room reveals our poor cat...also covered in chocolate syrup. On closer inspection, we realize that our daughter...our baby girl has not only shared the Hershey's with the cat...along his spine she's cut out large chunks of fur practically scalping the poor thing's leg!! 

Holy hell. WHY did the cat let her do this? He was either the best behaved cat in the entire world...was so dumbfounded by what she was doing to him he couldn't move...stoned on catnip...or just plain stupid!! 

This could have been so much worse! Our daughter could have gone out the front door and hitched a ride to New York (she's always wanted to go there), the cat could have shredded her beyond recognition..or we could have been the objects of her evil doing and found ourselves waking up covered in chocolate syrup and most of our hair stuck to our pillows!! We never have figured out why. She was so young and had no reasonable...or understandable answers for us.

  

The Dreaded Garbonzo Bumble Bean!

I had to write this down before it completely escaped my memory. After years of working in the industrial/manufacturing field my hubby has lost some of his hearing. Personally I believe it's a combination of work and age, but he prefers the work excuse.

During the summer he sits directly beneath the large A/C window unit we have in the living room. It's very LOUD so between that..the tv and the pedestal fan he has blowing on him I have to raise my voice to be heard.

This afternoon we are watching the PDRA drag races live online. Of course he cranks up the volume when the cars launch down the track. 

One car in particular was pointed out as having a new black and yellow paint scheme. I told my hearing challenged hubby that "IT LOOKS LIKE A BUMBLE BEE"!! He says "WHAT...DID YOU SAY IT LOOKS LIKE A GARBONZO BEAN"?!?! Good gawd. I tried my best to stifle the laugh...but the pressure was to much and unless I wanted to piss my pants and blow snot out of my nose simultaneously ..I just let the laughter fly.

Skeeter Gangs of New Orleans!

Hubby and I are eating lunch and watching the Weather Channel. They're interviewing victims of Hurricane Isaac and some of the people there to help..etc. One of those persons interviewed mentioned how hot and humid it is now that Isaac has chosen to move northeast. 

Hubby and I start discussing the mosquitoes in the deep south right now. I mentioned that they were probably as big as our dog and roaming the streets in gangs looking to attack unsuspecting citizens. The better half goes on to talk about gun or knife totin' skeeters ambushing humans...holding them down while the others have their way with them. My dear sweet husband kinda ran off the rails when he started talking about what the skeeter gang members would be wearing! Carrying guns and knives is one thing, but actual clothing? I'll give him bandanas, but that's it. 

It's almost unimaginable that there could be anything more horrifying than a gang of thug mosquitoes...until you encounter...

THE WEST NILE SKEETER!!!