The Dog Town train-update

Mr. Wiggles Felix Francis Harris WAS NOT aboard the train to Dog Town, I am happy to relate. He has lost two pounds, though, since he was seen a few months ago which may be attributable to his teeth and gum issues. And his breath was exponentially worse than just "stinky teeth", so they checked his liver enzymes. For the second time in a row, my man-dog rocked his labs so much that the Vet was laughing when she came back in. Mr. Pigglesworth (a.k.a. Wiggles) will now be on a round of antibiotics to see if that helps with the gums and he'll also be taking half a Pepsid AC, in case it's his stomach that's making his breath so rank.

As a result of his stellar achievement of avoiding the Dog Town train, we celebrated with fresh cooked burger meat, for dinner. Deeeeelish. Since he needed something soft, I felt this was only fitting (and I had some left over in the fridge anyway.) Hey, he's 15......how many times do you think he's going to get to eat burger?
Guess I better go dust off his Halloween costume. He's gonna be ready to "partay".

I'm not sure I'm ready for this

My man-dog and I have a 2:30pm appointment at the Vet, to talk. Yep, that talk....the one nobody ever wants to have--the "where are we and what are our options" talk. This morning, his back legs were going out from under him. He's better now but for how long? And is he in pain? He whines A LOT but is that "hook worthy"? At fifteen, I know our options are nominal but I trust my Vet and know she'll hear me--either way.
Clearly, Wiggles (yeah...that's his name) isn't long for this world but how do you know when enough is enough? I don't want him to be in tooth grinding (more like gum smacking) pain and I also don't want to send him to "Dog Town" on the Express train.

Sometimes he has that limp eared, rheumy eyed "I'm ready" look, and then he goes outside later and gets his frisk on. Talk about conflicting messages... I guess when there's no more frisk to be gotten, it'll be time. Maybe he'll even tell me he's ready ...who knows? He tells me other stuff all the time. Like he wants to go out to doo-doo alley --not the backyard via his doggie door. He wants to go on the driveway side and he can't open the door. Got it. He's ready to eat. Got it. He wants up. Got it. He wants under my covers and when he gets it, he thanks me. The guy talks a lot.

I take this stewardship of him very seriously--probably more so than I would some people I know. He has been there for me no matter what so my sense of loyalty and duty is even more intense. He deserves the best. Now I just have to figure out what that is.

Talk about fun

Yesterday I got to make a phone call to Parkland that was probably one of the most satisfying one's I've ever made. Some outside funding has become available to give to Parkland and I pitched my idea to Bruce. First, though, I had to find out if we could earmark the funds for a specific area. Being a veteran of hospital budgeting and knowing all to well what can happen with department wish lists, I got r-e-a-l specific about what we wanted to do with the money. Sort of Deal or No Deal, without the briefcases.
All too often it's the sexy, flashy, or big income producing departments that get all the dough. Well, yes, they do need to remain competitive with other hospitals but the meat and potatoes departments continually take it on the chin, over and over again, and the staff morale plummets. And it doesn't just go down--it stays down. When you don't have what you need each day, to do your job in a way that makes you feel proud of the job you are doing, it's just a daily whippin'.

That said, 8 East at Parkland is about to hit the jackpot. It's the Physical Rehab floor in the "old" building where Brian was transferred when he was ready to start PT and OT. Oh, Lordy....can you say depressing, old, and dark?? How about skanky?? And the pipes rattle when you turn on the water. We are talking o-l-d. Having just come from 7N, part of the "new" building, the difference was startling. Yes, a brand new Parkland is in the works but that's 5 years away and when we were there, this floor didn't even have a working ice machine for patient use. One was requisitioned but let's get real here. If the money's not available, you aren't getting an ice machine and who does that directly impact? Patients. Staff was schlepping ice in biohazard bags from another department, and throwing them in their freezer, for patient use. Eeeeeewwww. Not exactly hygienic, folks. And when staff gets tired of schlepping for that day, or is too busy, guess who gets no ice? Patients.

I can hardly wait to see 8 East's wish list. I was specific that I wanted Mona Frazier, Nurse Manager of 8 East, and the staff, to create the list. Not Mona's boss, not her boss's boss--the actual staff who works that floor. Nobody knows better than they do, exactly what they need to do their job, and what would make their job easier each day. Hello, increased job satisfaction. Hello, decreased staff attrition from 8 East. And the trickle down here is that guess who also benefits?? The patients. And isn't that who we were really trying to impact anyway?
Wooo hoooo!. Christmas in October. It just doesn't get any better than this.

Brain drain

Whoa....now that the dust has settled on Brian's accident, and we are at the three month mark, my body is finally beginning to feel what went on.  Earlier, it was pure mom / nurse/ emergency mode fueled by pure adrenalin.  Now?  I wake up tired.  There is a h-u-g-e disconnect in my brain and my body.  I'm having "word retrieval" issues...sometimes I can tell you what letter the word starts with--just not the damn word.  Menopause?  Well, OK maybe some of that, but I think it's really just more like total over-load.
I was asked yesterday "if I was all rested up after Brian"?  Huh? Whaaaaat?
I've been realizing over the past several weeks that in order to do what I had to do, my feelings had to take a back burner seat--in another county.  Had I allowed my fear, anxiety, or worries to be present, I would not have had the energy to function.  It's different than denial--denial is when you just don't face what's in front of you and you pretend everything is ducky.  I was way too fully aware of what was going on--and things were clearly NOT ducky---I just had to deal with it.  This was more like a "postponed processing" and I was fully aware that was what I was doing.  It was a choice.  I could either fall apart or function.

I'm also aware of the strength other people's prayers gave me--I could literally FEEL them.  I knew the energy I was receiving sure as heck wasn't mine--it was "other worldly".  And day after day, as Brian had miracle after miracle, I began to relax into this spiritual power.  AND IT WAS BIG.  AND IT STILL IS.  I look back at this experience as one of the most defining moments of my life.  The life lessons, the spiritual gifts and miracles (and there were plenty), the "angel people" who came into our lives.  Yeow.  It gives me the chills just reflecting back and I don't want to speed past any of it.  I want to remember all of it.

I've made a deal with myself that for the next three months, I'm going to take care of myself--whatever that looks like.  To some, that will sound selfish and "they" may not like it.  OK.  Don't like it.  But I'm going to do it anyway.  I'm going to take this time to reflect back, write, re-read my journals, and just process.  This was too big an event to just rush through.  For me, it was life altering.
And that's just how I see it.....

OK...I've got a bone to pick

While staying over at my neighbor's house last week, during the no water crisis, I looked through the October issue of Martha Stewart "Living" magazine.  In specific, I looked at the daily reminder calendar of what "Martha will be doing", each day.  OMG....I nearly wet my pants laughing.  Does Martha really think anyone's buying that fact that she does all that?  Horse pucky.  Here were a few of her reminders:  Pick apples-bake a tarte Tatin.  Take down screens and put up storm windows.  Make preserves with hardy kiwifruits.  And my personal favorite:  Check for drafts and repair broken seals.  I could go on and on but my question is simply this:  what the hell is she smokin'? 
Can't you just picture Martha taking down the screens and putting up the storm windows?  Or checking for drafts and repairing broken seals?  No doubt she could bake a tatin or make preserves but do you really think that's what she doing?  Nah. 
There is also a shot of "honey from my hives".  Are you really thinking old Martha tends a bunch of beehives??  Or that plump squash picture?  You think she actually planted & grew that, herself?  Hell, no.
I think it's simply hysterical that she sets herself up as a combination Heloise, Julia Childs, Bunny Williams, & Superwoman, all rolled in to one.  NO ONE is an authority on all that stuff.  And it just slays me that Martha makes sooo much money off the "assumption" that she really knows all that stuff, when she clearly has a staff of minions who do it for her.
They research everything and then hand it to her, think up her crafts, perfect them, and then teach them to her.  In other words, she rips off their ideas and then laughs all the way to the bank. 
And here's the worst part:  I enjoyed the magazine.  Damn...I wish I was that smart.

Whoa....

Just when you think things are starting to slow down.....well, uh, no.  Not an hour and a half after dropping Brian (and his crutches) off at his house yesterday, he called me to tell me "I  was just almost run over".  Brian and roomie, Elliott, had gone to the store, and a man, native to the country south of us, had nearly backed over Brian, on his crutches.  Elliott yelled, and the guy just kept on coming.  Elliott yelled again, in Spanish, something that would not be complementary to the man's mother, and the guy gunned it & took off.  Thank you, Elliott, for your command of Spanish--no matter what you said.  For the rest of the afternoon, I had Parkland flashbacks.

My new address stamper that I ordered online arrived today.  I was delighted and all set to stamp away--until I unwrapped it to find 7409 Westwood Dr. on it.  The problem??  Our street is Wentwood.   Oooops.
Luckily, they could immediately check the order online and see clearly my street is Wentwood.  Not even Wentworth.  Or Westwood.  W-e-n-t-w-o-o-d. 

And lastly, one of my favorite people has received a diagnosis I am not at all happy about.  IT SUCKS.  I HATE IT FOR HER.  She does not deserve this.  And today I know this:  SOMETIMES STUFF JUST HAPPENS.  There's always an upside and a downside to everything.  And sometimes the upside is hard to see--but it's there.  I just have to be willing to look, watch, and sometimes wait for it to be revealed.  And if I can laugh in the process, and be of service to someone else, that is the upside.

This just in....breaking news... Brian update

Brian has been set free on the world to drive and use crutches--no more wheelchair.  Oh, Lordy.  Look out for a big green Chevy truck with a guy smiling like a crazy person.  That'll be him. He'll be ramping up the PT to try to get back to normal walking since his peroneal nerve is still not responding.  That happens, and it often takes months before it starts working, if it starts working.  Prayers for that would be most appreciated as well as for an improvement in the vision in his right eye.  It's not terrible right now--just not what it previously was--due to the old head smash to the ground, in the crash.
He's been transferred from the Trauma E Service to Sports Medicine, for future follow up.  I'm still trying to figure out what sport they think was involved here....motorcycle crashing, head banging, bone breaking??  What???  It is logical that this is where they'd transfer him--just sort of funny, when you think about it.
Anywho....just wanted those who've wondered how he was doing to hear it first here, on his momma's blog.
Hugs to all and thanks for all the prayers!!

I am soooo grateful

I'm grateful for a lot of things but just lately, I've become aware of just what a luxury running water truly is, in my life.  Since we've been without running water for 2 days and just recently found the source of the leak, I've had a good forty eight hours to take a hard look at this.  Washing your hands (or brushing your teeth)??  Nope.  OMG.  Especially during flu season??  Solution: Bottled water --the hand sanitizer thing just doesn't do it for me if there's any clean H2O available.  And then there's the flushing issue...not gonna happen-- which can really destabilize your day, if you aren't thinking about it.  Showering, shampooing?  The Y, or next door at my neighbors.  Water for the dogs and cat?  Again, those big honkin' things of water from Tom Thumb.  Washing clothes, running the dishwasher?  Nope.  Not gonna happen.  Cooking?  Eeew..Let's just stop at totally gross--there is take out, you know.
Today, I have a whole new perspective on and appreciation for those ladies in Third World countries who carry their families water, on their heads, daily, or for those people right here at home, who, for whatever reason, have no access to running water.  I personally couldn't carry enough water-on my head or otherwise-which is truly making me take a hard look at my own water consumption.

I know some of you all must be rolling your eyes since perhaps you are the "camping" type.  Weeeeell, good... for.... you.... is all I can say to that.  I can camp out--I just want to do it at one of those fabulous, luxurious places in Montana or Canada where you live in tents with furniture, electricity, gourmet meals served on china, a chandelier, turn down service, and your own personal bathouse next door.  Now that's what I call camping.  The other??  Nah.
Water??  Gotta have it.  And I think I'll be more mindful of it in the future.

As one friend put it....

It just keeps getting piled higher and deeper around our house.  We no sooner launched Brian back to "his crib", for the most part, than we were finally ready to tackle what we think is a leak, under the house.  With all the rain over the last few weeks, it's not like the plumber could tell, by looking.  Shoot....we could have fished under our house.  Anyway, we've called Nick, the plumber, and (drum roll, please) he wants to cut the water off in the house for a minimum of 24 hours.  Guy's got a real sense of humor, don'tcha think?? 
I finally get my house back and the beginnings of my sanity, only to have the water cut off.

I admit it--I'm a laundry freak.  I even like to brush my teeth, shower, and am a  flushable toilet fan. I never thought that made me weird.  But to men, I guess it does.  Oh, and I might be a tad hysterical, too, since the plumber just cut off the water, without my knowledge, and the hot water heater started sounding like something on the launch pad at NASA.  Scared the you know what right out of me.
Stay tuned.  This can only get more weird.  Meanwhile,  I'll be bunking at my neighbor's, away from all this.  A girl can only take so much.

I'm losing my best friend...

Sad but true.  My best friend for the last fifteen years is on that l-o-n-g, one way trip out of town.  To Dog Town.  I can hardly stand it. He's been my rock forever.  He knows all my secrets and still loves me.  And he still wags his tail like he can hear me, when I talk to him, even though he's deaf.... as.... a.... post.
This morning when I tried to wake him up to leave the Farm & head home, I thought he'd already "left", if you know what I mean.  Nope.  He was just sooo dead asleep (no pun intended) and deaf, I practically had to shake him like an old rug to wake him up.  I really thought he'd checked out, when he finally rolled his eyes at me and yawned.
And then the breath hit me....well, something's dead, anyway.   And it's not like he's even got a mouthful of teeth--he doesn't-- but that b-r-e-a-t-h........oh, Lordy.  The Vet won't clean them anymore since he's so old so we're stuck brushing them--with chicken flavor toothpaste. 
He's started that "dementia dog" barking---on just one note---over and over and over.  It doesn't do any good to yell at him to stop--he's deaf, remember??  And did I mention the whining....sometimes he does it when he's just sitting in his bed alone.  Or the paw licking, or the blanket licking.... I had the Vet check him to be sure he wasn't in pain and the Vet said "nope...he's just old". 
Whew....what a relief.  Even stinky I still love him, buzzard breath and all.

Whadaya think?

OK...this occurred to me yesterday while I was shopping at Target.  It seems that whenever I go, which admittedly is not often, all the cool, fun, inexpensive stuff in my size is already gone.  There's always the size 0 or 2 or the "larger ladies" sizes, but everything in between is history.  Even the accessories ...the fun, trendy scarves, Ugg "wanna be" boots--you name it.  G-o-n-e.
Here's my solution:  Target Personal Shoppers.  Doesn't that rock??  Yes, admittedly, we would need to upgrade some of the Target staff's style quotient, but ask yourself: would that be a bad thing??  I'm thinking not.  Sales people could develop their own clientele, gather up stuff, and call you.  Yeah...there might be the occasional knife fight between sales people over sizes and colors, but think how great it would be to get the right size on your first trip.  No more calling and running all over town to other Target stores.
Plus, sales people could earn commission on their sales.  Extra moolah for them.  It's a win-win.
Now...I do realize this idea would take some further R&D (research & development) but I'm thinking it could work.  Extra security for those potential knife/cat/bitch slapping contests??   Well, there is that.... but with the holidays approaching, shoot....they've already budgeted for that anyway.
OK...I'm on it.  I'm going to submit this in the Target suggestion box and I'll do my best not to act smug when I get first dibs at everything.

Humbling gesture

Yesterday I witnessed a random act of kindness that was small but humbling.  I was sitting at a meeting and the man in front of me, off to my right, was struggling to drink from his can of Coke.  It seems he had opened it and the tab did not fully open the can.  He kept trying to turn the can in a different direction, over and over again to drink, but the opening was still tiny.  This man is older and suffers from some sort of neurological disorder, perhaps dementia.  I watched him for a minute or two and then my attention switched elsewhere.

A few minutes later, I was aware of two ladies beside me, moving.  One handed the other a dollar bill and the one with the money left for a moment. Shortly, she returned with an unopened can of Coke.  She gently removed the coozie from the man in front of me, with the Coke in it.  Out went the old can, in went the new, fresh, cold one and she opened it for him.  Silently, she slid it back between his hands, smiled kindly at him, and sat down beside me. I'm not sure the man even realized what had happened--he was just thrilled to have a Coke he could drink.
Then wham.....it hit me.  I could have done that, but it never occurred to me.  All I could do was thank the two ladies beside me for setting such an example of kindness and service to someone else.  Wow.  Sometimes it's just the small stuff that really teaches the lesson.

I'm seriously considering...

Have you ever really considered not reading the newspaper any longer?  I'm almost there.  It is nothing more than a barrage of "negative news".  While I realize this isn't exactly news to anyone, my question is this:  do I really need this and what are the negative consequences to me, taking in all this garbage?  I can't do anything about most of the stuff --it's already happened--and all it does is either make me feel scared, angry, powerless, or frustrated.  Maybe even some from column A, some from column B.


The bigger question is:  do I want to spend my day, with all that sludge rolling around in my brain?  Ditto TV.  Unless it's something educational like Nat Geo, the History channel, or something that makes me laugh like Big Bang Theory, why bother?  Wouldn't a good book be better?  Admittedly, that was a shameless plug for my favorite show but since nobody reads this thing anyway, except for Charlotte & possibly Bruce, they'll get over it.  It is the most hilarious show ever and Monday night's at 8:30pm are like a tomb around my house.   If you talk during the show, which means you are definitely male, I won't watch with you.  Let's get real here...I'm not turning on the TV to hear you talk.

Bottom line here?  If it's not positive or fun, I'm probably not going to spend a lot of time doing it.  Boy, that almost eliminated exercise, didn't it???  But I don't do it much anyway.

OK...I did it

And it was sooo worth it and continues to be.  I made my first fire of the Fall.  When it hits the mid 50 degrees, it's time, and it was.  Bruce was busy doing much needed yard work so I didn't have anyone naysaying in the background, as I readied the fireplace.  He'd mowed the front & just finished blowing the patio, so both front and back yards were clean, and he was otherwise engaged.  I figured I had a good fifteen minutes or so of pure pleasure before he'd come in, and my fire would be well established by then.
So, to the wood ring I went and loaded up my arms with wood.  After piling the wood on the log holder and opening the damper, the "fire" rush started.  OMG....I gently turned the knob for the gas, and struck a long handled match.  Almost there...  And pouf.  The crackling began and the smoke furled, as I tossed the big match onto the pile.  Skinny logs and fat ones burned side by side.
All afternoon I have fed and nurtured that fire.  I just added another stack of logs, as my "alternate fire keeper" let it die down while I took a nap.  Big no-no. 
 You know....you just can't get good fire keepers anymore. 

Texting and Twittering....? Why?

Do you Text or Twitter?  I personally despise texting, probably because I'm not super fast with the typing part and would rather just call someone than spend the time and effort (and expense) required to text.  Yes, I realize you can stealth text, both sending and receiving during a business meeting on in class, or even worse, while driving, but again, I ask, why???  I have yet to receive a life altering or life saving text so can't it just wait and either go to my voice mail or email?  I'll get back with you.

And Twittering....who in this solar system needs or cares to know what I am doing, right this minute?  It's not like I'm cutting into someone's heart or brain but if I was, and it was you, wouldn't you want me to be giving you 100% of my attention, and not be Twittering?  Even if someone was Twittering for me, as I operated, I'd still have to be multi-tasking, while I fished around in your heart or brain??  I realize modern medicine thinks this is a huge breakthrough--Twittering during surgery.  Sound good to you?  Me??  Not so much.

Families....everyone's got one

Why are families so damn difficult?  As we approach the holiday season, I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it.  Why is it that we all have someone in ours that we just frankly cannot stand and sometimes it's more than one?  Why can't it just be like it looks, on the fronts of most holiday magazines where it looks all cozy, happy, and warm with a touch of snow vs. angry, irritable, and dishonest, with everyone stuffing their real feelings and wanting to be anywhere but where they are?  And why do we all do this, year after year?  You know why....it's because we're afraid.  OMG....what if we pissed somebody off?  What if they rejected us?  What if we started a new tradition?  What then??
 
I'm not suggesting we all go postal--I am suggesting we all take a look at what bothers us.   If I can't stand someone and find they are just too toxic for me to be around, I can choose to limit my contact with them or choose not be around them, period.  I can also use the forbidden holiday and family word, "NO".  Or even No Thank You.
  I can decline, not attend, and make alternative plans that are joyous and fun, and move on, folks.  In other words, I can take care of ME.  I don't get to make choices for anyone else--just myself.  I also don't get to manipulate others in order to get my way, but that's the advanced course, so keep reading.  I realize what I am saying will most likely shock the ever lovin' you know what out of some people.  Others, not so much. 

If I say NO, will I most likely be called selfish & self centered?  Count on it.  Will it kill me?  Not a chance.  But stuffing my feelings will.  So go ahead.  Do it anyway.  You're worth it.

(OK, if this doesn't get some comments, nothing will.)

Random thoughts this morning

On the Today Show this morning, they showed a clip from Saturday's SNL skit with Lady Gaga and Madonna, in super skimpy bustiers.  Al Roker cracked up the rest of the show regulars with his quip "that it was just so sad that Madonna had really let herself go".  She did have better biceps than a lot of men I know, and less fat than a rice cake.  Al had me rolling until I remembered what Guy Richie had said about the big "M", during their divorce.  He said Madonna worked out so much, that in bed, she was like sleeping with gristle.
OK....Madonna may have millions and a rockin' bod at 50+ years of age, but I can promise you one thing: no one will ever say sleeping with ME is like sleeping with gristle.  Bags of marshmallows?  Oh, yeah.  A big fluffy duvet?  You betcha.  But gristle??  No way.  And it makes me scream out laughing just to think about it.  Now, I realize I probably should aspire to a more gristley body according to Vogue, but it just gets in the way of everything fun.  And I'm sorry, but I have never found skinny to be fun.  The one whole time I was--it was really more just an altered state, for me.  And one of constant hunger  And no chocolate.  Fagedaboudit.

My other random thought this morning had to do with wood and people who burn it.  Are you a gas or wood person?  Do you get excited at the thought of the wood man calling to see how much wood you need this year?  Are you already anticipating the first fire of the Fall?  Will it be a half or a whole cord this year or if you are a total "pyro", like my sister, do you need three cords??
  Or , God forbid, are you one of those people who's gone over to the dark side, and put in fake logs??  OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!  What possible fun or ambiance is there in flipping a switch to turn on your fire...where is the smell of wood, the pop of the logs, the crackle, the scent of smoke in the air??  And don't go all Eco friendly on me...God created fire and he meant for us to burn wood.  I know because He and I've talked about it and it's why we have forest fires.  He told me.  I just don't get this burning "gas" thing....and fake logs???  That's just wrong.  Convenient, but w-r-o-n-g.

Cliches...

Remember those little one liners your mom or grandmother used to say all the time when you were little, that either you didn't understand or made you want to grind your teeth?  And how is it that now that you do uderstand them, they're all true??  Whaaaat??  How'd that happen?

Remember "what goes around, comes around"?  I didn't truly get that one until I hit my thirties, I'm embarrassed to admit.  All that going around stuff really threw me.  One of my favorites was "do as I say, not as I do" since I could apply that one daily in my family of origion.  That one I really got.

 But what the heck does "pretty is as pretty does" mean??  I remember Forrest Gump saying that in the movie and it sounded just as dumb then as it does now.  But others, as I've grown older, have taken on a much more significant role in my life.  They've kept me out of trouble, helped me resist doing something just for a moment's satisfaction, and helped adjust my growing, ever changing perspective.  Where some things used to be just a rigid black and white, today the spectrum of gray is simply enormous.  The more I know, the less I know these days and it makes life infinitely more interesting and rewarding.  Allowing my mind to be open has brought countless individuals into my life that ordinarily I might never have gotten to know--I would have just blown right past them and missed their pearls of wisdom.  OK...that's another one....pearls of wisdom??  "Pearls of wisdom" always sounded like some sort of hokey nonsense your grandmother would say, only now that I'm that age, it makes perfect sense.  I guess that's the beauty of growing older--as long as you continue to grow.  Somethings that never made sense, suddenly do.

And he's off....

This afternoon, Brian got up with his elbow walker, and literally, took off.  Yahoo!!  That means that though he can't bear weight yet on three out of four appendages, we are in the home stretch and best of all, he can now get up and get his own stuff.  No more delivery service.  I'm thinking of putting one of those tacky baskets on the front, like ladies used to have on the handlebars of their Huffy's or Schwinn's, back in the 50's, so he can keep his cell, shades, and other accoutremount with him, as he travels.  The other outstanding side effect??  It wears him out.
He's going to be a lot less chatty and a lot more "strenf", as Benji would say, when he hits PT on Monday.  He refers to himself now as "The Terminator" and boy, have I had fun with that one.  Aside from reminding him he a-l-m-o-s-t "terminated" himself, on his motorcycle, I'm hopeful he'll be careful with all this new found freedom, a la walker.
Realistically, probably not.

Sure makes me wonder...

Sometimes it's the little stuff that trips me up, takes me totally by surprise and makes me just shake my head.  Such is what happened last night after Bruce and I helped Brian shower.  I was rubbing Vitamin E into one of his suture lines-the one on his right arm--only to realize there were still sutures in his arm!   The sutures were supposedly removed over a month ago, and since they kept slapping another cast on his arm, I never got a really good look at his suture line, and clearly no one else thought to look.  But the best part is, we were just at the Clinic on Monday and were seen by an Ortho Resident, who didn't notice them either, after examining Brian's arm. 
  I removed several of Brian's sutures myself--the ones that weren't almost totally grown in--but puuuuulease!  I guess I can be grateful that I've seen Brian's xrays and there are no clamps or "extras" left behind, beyond the titanium rods, screws, and bolts that are supposed to be there. Is it just me or does it make you really wonder what else they've left in other people???
We'll get the two remaining sutures out on Monday and though Brian would not have died from retained sutures, it was just a real eye roller and hassle getting their removal set up this morning.  Sure makes you wonder, doesn't it???