Tuesday, March 31, 2009

It's the drugs, I tell you!

I've been heavily medicated for the last three weeks.

I had open-abdominal surgery three weeks ago, which I'm still recovering from. (If you really want to know, ask. But don't say I didn't warn you.) I spent two and a half days in the hospital before coming home and feeling like I couldn't even get into first gear. My folks took the Fries for ten days, until after my staples came out. (My mother lies. She said the medical staples would look more like ace bandage clips than something out of my desk stapler. They looked like staples out of my desk stapler, but on steroids.) I came to love demerol and phenergan while in the hospital, although I wasn't fond of the stiff muscles the injections gave me. It took about three days after I got home before that finally faded away. My doctor declared the surgery a raging success, gave me more details than I'm giving you (in an effort to spare your delicate sensibilities), and wished me luck.

Surgery was 3/9; the Fries returned home two Wednesdays later. We were all glad they were back. Grace at mealtimes took on a new formula:

God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food. Bless Auntie J's boo-boo. Bless Unca D SO much. Bless Auntie J SO much. Amen.

A good friend from church came to help me out in the mornings for most of last week, which was a good thing. I saw the doctor for my follow-up visit last Friday, and he's very pleased with how I'm healing. He expected me to come in and complain that I was still in a fair amount of pain, and was surprised when I described what I was feeling a more of a persistent, nasty achiness and soreness. He wanted me to take it easy for another week or so, and said I should feel like a new woman when I come back in six weeks. In the meantime, I live in pajama pants during the day, unless I have to go out.

Sitting really upright for long periods of time is still ouchy, so I recline a lot (it makes church interesting). I still walk at one speed...slow. I can't pick up the Fries because I'm still under a weight restriction, which is frustrating to us all. But I'm slowly getting better. I nap when I need to, since I still tire easily. (Although, I didn't get my nap today. Stupid payroll week.)

Today, Large Fry woke up crying, and her skin was hot everywhere. I wasn't sure if it was just the effects of sleep still heating her skin, or if she was sick like she said. When she snuggled into Hubby in our bed for the usual morning cuddles and conked right back out, I knew something was up. Hubby ended up calling off of office duty today to take care of Large Fry so that I wouldn't be completely overwhelmed with payroll, healthy twin Fries, and a puking Large Fry. Large Fry has spent most of the day just laying on the couch. I think she's feeling better now, though, which is good news. (Fingers crossed that the twin Fries don't get this.) She told me she wanted pizza, and wasn't all that enthused when I insisted on Cheerios instead.

*yawn* I still have 2/3 of an inch of timesheets to wade through tonight--I have to audit them all this week, because our telephony system was down for about 40 hours during the pay period and I need to make sure I have all the shifts for that timeframe in the scheduling system I manage.

But there you have it. The last few weeks in a nutshell.

Now I think I'd better go figure out something for dinner.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Breakfast Redux

Given that Hubby wanted to screen the new Tim Hawkins comedy video last night, and that laughing hurts, I was moving a bit slowly this morning. I'm slowly pulling on clothes in the bathroom when I hear him firmly start to say our usual kid-friendly blessing.

Overpowering his voice is Medium Fry, who is praying along...while crying at the top of her healthy lungs.

"God is great, God is good, and we thank him for our food."

There's an audible gasp as Medium Fry inhales before bellowing/crying out the rest:

"Bless Auntie J's boo-boo. Bless Unca D so much. Bless Auntie J so muuuuuuch," her voice catching on a huge sob at the end. (Those who've heard Medium Fry wail and talk at the same time will have no trouble imagining this.)

Once I had (slowly) made my way downstairs, Hubby explained what had happened.  Medium Fry had not wanted to come to breakfast. She had not wanted to relinquish her toys. Once forced into the kitchen, she did not want to climb into her chair. Hubby remedied that, and he was getting frustrated. Then she didn't want to buckle the straps on her seat that keep her "stuck" (she often complains about this when she's "done" and I tell her she's supposed to be stuck), which she is normally quite adamant about doing herself. Hubby buckled her in, amid wails that she wanted to do it. He announced that they would pray, started speaking, and Medium wailed right in.

Incidentally, this little coda to prayers isn't limited to grace at mealtimes. We go through this little routine even at bedtime, and tonight, Auntie J's boo-boo got blessed three times, and Unca D got blessed "so much" three times. Auntie J? Not a word.

Except, of course, for the boo-boo.


Hubby had just brought the twins downstairs after nap when the following conversation took place:

Hubby: Large Fry, Medium Fry brought those down from her bed. You can't take them.

Large Fry: [takes one of the doggies anyway]

Hubby: Large Fry, Medium Fry had that. I told you not to take it. There's lots of other stuffed toys and friends to play with.

Large Fry:
[runs into the playroom, bawling]

Hubby: [firmly] Large Fry, come here.

Large Fry reluctantly obeys.

Hubby: Why are you crying?

Large Fry: [sniffles and sobs]

Hubby: Why are you crying?

Large Fry: Because I love you.

Hubby: You're crying because you love me?

Large Fry: [continues to sob]

Hubby: Why are you crying?

Large Fry: [mumbles] Because I love you.

Hubby: Keep talking, because Auntie J needs good stuff for her blog. Now, you're crying because you love me? What does that mean?

Large Fry: [mumbles]

Hubby: You need a hug?

Large Fry: Yes.

Hubby: I will be happy to give you a hug.

Friday, March 20, 2009


So, in our beginning attempts of teaching the girls about prayer, we let Large Fry say the blessing before meals. (Actually, we have been sternly told, "YOU don't pray!" if we try to say grace and not let her do it.)

This morning, as I'm putting on makeup in a bid to help me feel more human, Unca D is getting the girls breakfast. He asks Large Fry if she wants to pray.

And I hear this:

"God is great, God is good, and we thank him for the food." I smile. It's our usual mealtime prayer. "Bless Auntie J's boo-boo." I knew they'd done this while at my folks'. "Bless Unca D SO much. Bless Auntie J SO much. Bless Auntie J's special bandaid...SO much. Amen."

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Reasons not to have abdominal surgery

1) You will feel like a failed magician's trick in the semi-waking hours immediately following surgery.

2) You will have weird, drug-induced dreams of conversations you will then only vaguely remember. If you actually had them at all.

3) You'll get a room on the pediatric floor with perpetually perky nurses.

4) You'll have nurses question you when you tell them what your pain level is, especially after your husband has informed them of your failing to normally admit when you're in pain.

5) You'll have the daunting realization that you're going to need a ladder to get into your own big ol' bed at home.

Reasons to have abdominal surgery:

1) The surgeon swears that he's fixed the problem. And it shouldn't bother you any more once you're all healed up.

2) The surgeon will tell you how "cool" one of those things he took out of you was, and you'll try not to laugh.

3) Your boss will send you gorgeous flowers (complete with a note that says, "Quit goofing off and get back to work!") and make your husband look bad, because he didn't buy you any.

4) The cats will be happy you're home.

5) You can see and talk to the Fries on Skype, thus making all of you feel better.

6) You get good drugs.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Found under the couch

*At least 3 dozen assorted-size Lego Duplo blocks

*A good dozen letters/numbers, from two different magnetic alphabets

*A small Bob the Tomato, sporting a soul patch

*Madame Blueberry, with a fantastical wig

*Three books

*A tube of Bacitracin ointment that I lost 3 weeks ago


*Nibbled old pizza crusts (ew)

*Small Fry's missing pacifier

*Dust rabbit

*One white plastic egg (not the Easter-egg variety)

*Several dusty, pathetic-looking preemie-sized diapers (for diapering various stuffed animals and baby dolls)

*A number of small dolls that are of the fast-food kiddie-meal-toy variety

*Arm cover for the blue armchair

What I did NOT find as I picked up the entire Kiddo Korral area:

The two missing duckies.