Let's getter dun'

I just hung up with my anesthesiologist for tomorrow and he sounds like a really nice guy. He made me laugh and that's always helpful. He told me I could pick my drugs and start my IV, if I wanted. Funny guy. Wonder if he wants me to monitor myself, too, while I'm under.
He told me he'll be giving me some pre-op meds, all of which I like. Especially the anti anxiety one. I just hope I don't leave the party too early (sedation) and miss all the fun. Knowing "Fred", maybe I can talk them in to slipping him something, too. He doesn't do hospitals well at all. And when it's me, he's even worse. I'm talkin' B-A-D. And then he starts laughing.....anxiety laughter. Like an laughing hyena. That's him. Wow....I'm starting to really look forward to that Xanax tomorrow. I wish I had one right now.
Since I am planning a full day of snoozing post op, I thought I'd go ahead and post here tonight. Lord only knows what I might say on here tomorrow, "under the influence". Quit laughing....even I know I'm a tad outrageous at times but sometimes it's just sooo fun, I can't help myself.

Ain't life great?

It seems my tail feathers are draggin' a little bit this morning. Really draggin'. I'm sure those of you with elderly parents can relate. This sounds awful to say but I'm going to say it anyway, out loud and right here: I hope and pray mom goes fast. For her sake, for ours, and in general. Unlike a lot of people, I don't want to live forever and neither does she. But there is GREAT news.

On a muuuuch brighter note, we got her in at The Plaza at Edgemere and I picked out her spot yesterday--in the rain, thank you verrrrry much. My DSW rain boots are coming in quite handy these days. My sister called from work yesterday morning and said they had 3 spots available and would I go look. Well, hell, YES, I'll go look, and I did. I stopped outside, in the rain and said my prayers for "whatever's right", and then I waited for the Plaza lady. Yep...the good ole waitin' thing again. Anyway, we went to a one bedroom on the first floor, overlooking the front of the building. It was the largest of the three -- we are dealing with a Princess here. I happened to glance at the room next door and realized I knew the lady who lived there. We opened the door to number 107 and I literally held...my...breath. IT WAS PERFECT. Done deal. I never even looked at the other two spots on the second floor. The Plaza lady and I just started howling...I was walking around placing mom's furniture, in my head. And I'm not even good at that.

Mom is right outside a little social gathering spot for TV watching with cookies and coffee and on the other side of the hall is their theater---and mom LOVES movies. Hallelujah and THANK YOU GOD. She has a little intake evaluation on Friday and I am in the process of getting her medical records that they need faxed over, in my spare time. Sorry. I couldn't resit a little sarcasm since mom has a staff of people taking care of her while she watches TV all day. Truth be told, she always has. Ahhh, the privileges of old age. Once she's all official, we'll set up the move and getter done.
Yes, she still has two months on her lease and, no, we probably can't worm out of it but that's OK. As my sister pointed out, it will give us time to sort through the furniture that she isn't taking and either absorb it, or sell it.
Just another miracle for this old broad. And I'm grateful.

Humpty Dumpty--Again

The cow is out of the barn once more. It seems mom went to church with two friends this morning and everything was great until they got to the friend's car and mom went over like Humpty Dumpty--AGAIN. We are back to the Avatar look. Again. The good news is she did not need stitches and went on to lunch at El Fenix while the goose egg grew on her forehead. Should she have iced it? Yes. Is it a tad bit late now...definitely.
My sister and I just had the "it's time to move to The Plaza at Edgemere conversation" with her (assisted living) so it's no longer on the down low. I even called my bother with the "all clear"that the deed was done and she'd been OK with it. Not thrilled but OK. Since we've already visited and put down a deposit, now we feel even more sure that this is the right decision. The sooner they can get her in, the better. I need to know she is being taken care of and is safe and I told her that. Her response was "yeah, I know....but it's sooo beautiful here and I LOVE it...can't I just stay here?" And I had to laugh. I told her "mom, I'm my own worst enemy...here we found this place and knew you'd love it because it is soooo nice... and this is gonna be a hard act to follow.... I have really just screwed myself over". My sister looked like she was about to cry and mom and I were laughing. We all do grief in different ways, at different times.
I told mom she had asked me to take care of her and make these decisions for her when she was no longer capable of doing it, and she got real quiet. I told her all three of us (siblings) were seeing a totally natural progression of her disease--nothing she could do anything about--and that it was time for her to do this. I don't think I will ever forget the look on her face.
She locked eyes with me, with a blank look in her eyes, nodded, and said "OK." That I know I will cry about in the shower later. There was no anger, no real resistance. She just isn't there anymore. And that hurts.
She did want to know how soon, and we told her we weren't sure yet but would give her plenty of notice and to just relax and just have fun. Let us do the heavy lifting. She LOVED that part. I told her when it was time to move her, we'd do it like we did last time. We'd have everything all done, moved in, and hung, and then bring her over to settle in. She was worried about her furniture and was assured we'd take care of everything, and I told her what we'd do and how.
So, the weekend curse continues. But at least we have the Oscars tonight! Woo hoo!!

Oh, fried chicken...

Are you a chicken fryer? I'm flat not. Too much hassle, too much grease, too much clean up--all for an inferior product. Oh, yeah....I've succumbed to the lure several times thinking this time is IT. Seems like anything that starts out in a hot cast iron skillet with oil can not be bad. And it's usually not--it's just not great. And if I'm going to be de-greasing my kitchen for a solid week after wards, it's got to be GREAT. I was just reading about how to make "the best fried chicken ever", on America's Test Kitchen tips email, and after about three sentences, I'm already hanging up my apron (mentally) and reaching for my keys. Hell...let Bubba's do all that and I'll just hit the drive through, thank you very much. No wonder all our ancestor's died early. If making the fried chicken didn't kill you, eating it sure did.
The saddest day of my life was the day I learned Brother's fried chicken, near down town, had closed. Again. Seems it had done it a few times but had always re-opened. It was not a dine in type place--Lord, no, unless you were packing a gun--and a big one, at that. Nope. But the drive through?? Stairway to heaven....and their fried okra?? You don't even want to know.

I think if I ever try frying chicken again, it's going to be in my "outdoor kitchen", like Paula Deen's. Hint: I do not have one--but someday I might. And that would rock. No muss, no fuss. Just hose it all down when your finished. But the smell.....that could be a problem. You know what the smell of fried chicken does to you. Uh, oh.

See....I knew it

Clearly I'm NOT the only person who is scared of clowns, and I'm still waiting to hear on the dwarf bunch. Scary stuff is just scary stuff--I don't care what it is--and it brings out the worst in some people. That would be the ones who aren't scared, and love to torture those that are.....like emailing me a picture of a dwarf clown yesterday and putting SECRET ADMIRER in the subject line. Let me just say this: those people are NOT smart despite what they may think. Payback is hell and they best sleep with one eye open--forever--since I have a very long memory. 'Nuf said, Mr. Smarty Pants.

Now for other random facts: I am on rent car #4--I swear--and it smells like gym socks or a locker room. I'm guessing it's a mildew issue so I just keep the windows open and keep going. It's clear I should have kept the red Soup can--the best of the lot--and since my car is now in the paint division, I'm just going to go with this car. The 3rd one developed a nasty habit of not starting so that's why it went back. I read on the Internet that rental car companies have dramatically dropped their inventories, and Enterprise is clear proof of that. The people are super nice--it's just the cars that suck. Really suck. And smell. Awful.
My surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday morning at 7am--I like to be the first one out of the shoot since waiting is not something I do very well--especially with no coffee--and I like everyone to be "fresh". It's Day Surgery and my old assistant is coming by to check on me which makes me laugh just thinking about it. She's not a nurse and doesn't even work there anymore but she'll act like she does. I was there for her surgery years back, with the same surgeon, so it'll be like old home week. She's the funniest woman who ever walked the planet, so I hope I'm not too drugged up to enjoy her. She'll have Bruce howling for sure. We made a pact that when working there stopped being fun, we were gone. Who else are ya gonna turkey bowl with? (One year we were sooo over the frozen turkey's they gave us every year for the holidays, that we "bowled" ours down the long tiled hall by the ER. Yes, one of the lame-o Security guys walked around the corner-- post turkey release--and he laughed his head off. Whew.) Try explaining getting fired for bowling with a turkey..........knowing Keely, she could have done it and made it sound great. She's like that.
I did see the bunny across the street yesterday so he's avoided being a dog's lunch so far. I love when he rears up on his hind legs. Tres' cool. Happy weekend to all. I'm off to fertilize my climbing roses in the back yard--the ones pictured above. With Fred at the office, he can't tell me not to--or how to do it--.
Ohhhhhh, life is good!!

Just now I have had the freak out of the day. As I click on MSNBC, right smack in the middle of the screen pops a picture of a theme park in China, featuring dwarfs. I hate outing myself here but I'm gonna big girl up and just admit it: I am terrified of dwarfs and clowns. No lie. I totally lose it and exit stage left. The boys and Fred know it and they love nothing more than calling me to the den on some other crisis, only to have Little People, Big World, on TV. I guess they think it's hilarious to watch this fat gal run, and I do. In nursing school when we did our rotation at Scottish Rite, wanna guess what my patient was??? Yep, and he was only a baby and I still tried to get another patient. When I told my instructor I wanted to swap him, she, of course, wanted to know why. The infernal "whyyyyyy"? I finally told her, and she made me keep him. That was the longest three days of my life. And did I mention he was in a halo (bolted from head to hip in a metal doo dad--like an ex-fix).........gee....that was a huge help. I had to pick him up and turn him by just holding the metal and that was even more weird...he was just like a chunk of kiddo. A few of my very closest friends in school knew what the deal was and would come give me a break and talk me down off the ceiling. One of them had a patient with no legs--nothing-- and I loved him. He was like a little black ball and rolled all over his crib--and laughed. Mine? Not so much.

Now for the clown part and I know I'm not alone here. My worst nightmare on earth would be to see a dwarf clown or be trapped near one, with no exit. I will chew my way out--I promise you. Just like a dog. And don't give me the "clowns and dwarfs are people , too" lecture--I get that. This is not a rational fear here--this is sheer terror, initially. I guess I need to head to a desensitizing program for people with phobias but I'm not doing it! Nooooo. Too freaky.

P. S. Just trying to load this picture has made me almost hurl. If there are typo's in this, you can bet I'm not coming back to fix them. Just can't do it.

Is it just me...?

Do those ED ads on TV just make you want to hurl? The actors are just sickening and the background commentary makes me feel like a 12 year old again. And not in a good way. And don't go throwing the nurse card at me. I never worked for a Urologist. And I never will... but those ads....omg. They are just nauseating...right up there with contemplating the fact that your parents actually did the deal. I mean...we all know they did, but who on the planet wants to think about it. EEEwwwwwww. Gross. Please. Nooo......that's just wrong. And the hemorrhoid ads? One of Benji's close pal's, mom, is an actress and who do you think is in the latest 'roid ad? Yep.....that'd be Jenny. And I've seen my fair share of 'roids..... and that ad still makes me twitch. And laugh hysterically. Back to twelve again.

"Fred" told me first thing this morning that there had been a huge fire on Greenville Avenue around 5 am this morning and that four restaurants had burned, including "Fertelli's". Good thing I was still in bed because I just started screaming laughing.....the restaurant is "Terelli's". See....I told ya he was hilarious.