My next step was a full abdominal CAT Scan. [I went to the ER for severe kidney pain] We needed to make sure my kidneys weren't failing from the infusions. At least that's what I think the doctor said. I couldn't be sure because at this point, that dried blood had donned a top hat and cane and was singing showtunes. My CAT Scan showed that my kidneys were okay. The doctor did, however, inform me that I have an ovarian cyst. [Seriously, do they SEARCH to find other things wrong??] Anyway, another blood test determined that it was a post-infusion reaction similar to the ones I always get in my arms and legs. Only now, it's starting to happen in my back. Well, I think that's what the doctor said. I can't be sure because I was too focused on the dried blood which was now doing high-kicks in full stage make-up. For all I know, the doctor was informing me that I had agreed to let him put me in a warm bath, cut my kidneys out with a butcher's knife and farm them on the black market.
I left the ER around 5:30pm and I'm not sure what ever happened to the dried blood. I do believe, that as I got dressed, removed my fancy hospital bootie-socks, and gathered my discharge papers, it gave me a little wink and a nod, while one lone tear fell down it's dried and cracking face.
There are some things I [annoyingly] obsess over. For example, and please do not judge me, while watching VH1's I Love Money [no, seriously] I noticed a glitch. "Real" was talking on the phone to his brother "Chance" who had already been voted off the show, and they filmed "Real" from different angles. One angle showed "Real" wearing black socks, the other angle showed him barefoot. While I know that reality shows are far from reality, and lots of editing goes on, how could anyone let such an obvious glitch pass through to the viewers? So, I notice the sock glitch and the entire show is ruined for me. I focus on the socks, wonder why that wasn't caught and by the time I turn my attention back to the show, it's almost over and I missed most what happens. [I'm a smart girl, though, and the easy pattern of a reality show is easy for me to figure out. Did you ever notice whomever they focus on during the first 2 minutes of ANY reality show, is the person who is eliminated? ]
It's this weird trait that almost made me go completely bananas on Saturday. You see, I ended up in the Emergency Room. I arrived there at 10:30am and was put in a room fairly quickly. In that room, I was told to strip everything off except undies and put on a gown. Since I was in a hurry to get to the ER, I didn't think about anything and I wore flip-flops. Actually, they gave me two gowns to put on [because I was freezing] but they didn't give me those fashionable "bootie-socks" they usually give you in hospitals to cover your feet. As I deftly manuevered my jeans off by sliding one leg out and then standing ON TOP of my flip-flops so my bare feet wouldn't touch the floor, it happened....
I noticed dried blood on the floor to the left of my hospital bed.
Now, my feet never hit the floor, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the dried blood. It wasn't a huge puddle but still, someone obviously bled there. And it wasn't me. This is a hospital that I frequent often for infusions. It was recently remodeled, is very pretty and very clean. And yet, there was dried blood next to my bed. DRIED BLOOD. NEXT TO MY BED. RED, DRIED, CRACKING AND BLOODY.
The nurse came in to take 78, 935 vials of blood [none of which fell onto the floor] and hook me up to an I.V. I asked her for a pair of those fancy "hospital bootie-socks" and she laughed and said she would get me a pair. She handed me the remote to the TV. I put it on briefly but couldn't focus on it because...well, there was dried blood next to my bed. I shut off the TV.
The nurse didn't return with my bootie-socks, but the doctor came in to tell me my first step in the ER would be to get a chest X-ray to make sure my lungs were clear since my infusions can cause problems with my lungs. I barely heard him because the dried blood was right there, mocking me. I went for my X-rays and was finally given those fancy hospital bootie-socks by the people in the X-ray department! They had "no-slip grip" on the bottom. While that tempted me to run and slide to see if I could beat the no-slip grip, I refrained. I was wheeled back to my room and all hopes I had of someone swinging through with a mop and a bucket of bleach while I was absent were dashed. The dried blood was still there. Staring at me.
My next step was a full abdominal CAT Scan. [I went to the ER for severe kidney pain] We needed to make sure my kidneys weren't failing from the infusions. At least that's what I think the doctor said. I couldn't be sure because at this point, that dried blood had donned a top hat and cane and was singing showtunes. My CAT Scan showed that my kidneys were okay. The doctor did, however, inform me that I have an ovarian cyst. [Seriously, do they SEARCH to find other things wrong??] Anyway, another blood test determined that it was a post-infusion reaction similar to the ones I always get in my arms and legs. Only now, it's starting to happen in my back. Well, I think that's what the doctor said. I can't be sure because I was too focused on the dried blood which was now doing high-kicks in full stage make-up. For all I know, the doctor was informing me that I had agreed to let him put me in a warm bath, cut my kidneys out with a butcher's knife and farm them on the black market.
I left the ER around 5:30pm and I'm not sure what ever happened to the dried blood. I do believe, that as I got dressed, removed my fancy hospital bootie-socks, and gathered my discharge papers, it gave me a little wink and a nod, while one lone tear fell down it's dried and cracking face.
My next step was a full abdominal CAT Scan. [I went to the ER for severe kidney pain] We needed to make sure my kidneys weren't failing from the infusions. At least that's what I think the doctor said. I couldn't be sure because at this point, that dried blood had donned a top hat and cane and was singing showtunes. My CAT Scan showed that my kidneys were okay. The doctor did, however, inform me that I have an ovarian cyst. [Seriously, do they SEARCH to find other things wrong??] Anyway, another blood test determined that it was a post-infusion reaction similar to the ones I always get in my arms and legs. Only now, it's starting to happen in my back. Well, I think that's what the doctor said. I can't be sure because I was too focused on the dried blood which was now doing high-kicks in full stage make-up. For all I know, the doctor was informing me that I had agreed to let him put me in a warm bath, cut my kidneys out with a butcher's knife and farm them on the black market.
I left the ER around 5:30pm and I'm not sure what ever happened to the dried blood. I do believe, that as I got dressed, removed my fancy hospital bootie-socks, and gathered my discharge papers, it gave me a little wink and a nod, while one lone tear fell down it's dried and cracking face. 
In the process of getting the front porch Halloween-ified. My Dad stopped by today and told me my pumpkin looks like it has a "Gangster Nose" and while I'm not 100% certain what a "Gangster Nose" is, if I stare at it long enough, I'm sure I will say, "Yup. I see it. The "Gangster Nose!"
And a close-up of J's Day Of The Dead pumpkin because his art skillz far outweigh mine. In fact, my pumpkin is curled up in a ball, crying in shame because it is so inferior.
Back when I was in high school, right around the time the wheel was invented, boys were...well, just boys. They could barely form sentences, they rarely used cutlery and their grand sense of humor was repeatedly illustrated in two ways: either by stealing a girl's tampon [1. I'm looking at you Joe B.], removing the applicator, cupping the tampon in their hand with the string hanging out, and pretending it was a mouse, or by throwing random bits of dissected frog at you. That pretty much wrapped up what boys were like back then - simplistic, sophomoric and certainly not capable of growing full beards.
My house is located near a bus stop for the local high school. The other day, I was out walking the dogger when the bus came and dropped the high schoolers off. I was shocked to see two boys with BEARDS! Not one or two patches of random hair, but full beards. [By the way, if you are a youngun trying to grow a beard but can only muster up a few random patches of scraggily hair, making you look like you are a Chernobyl survivor, you should hold off a few years.]
Sadly, seeing boys with full beards made me realized how much "kids" have changed. Instead of being in a parking lot fishing for alcohol [2. Fishing is an act that requires you to stand in a parking lot and beg random people to buy you alcohol so you can appear cool at the party you're going to that night.] like we had to do, these boys with beards could easily walk into any liquor store and buy whatever their bearded faces desire without question. Instead of going to see bands play, their bearded faces are standing outside the venue selling Ecstasy. Rather than buying the girl they have a crush on a rose and leaving it at her house [3. I'll always remember that, Steve N.!], their bearded faces are buying condoms so they can bang that girl.
I'm not sure why kids are growing up so much faster now than we did back in the Dark Ages. Maybe it's all the growth hormones in milk. I fear in another 10 years I will see high school kids getting off at the bus stop wearing Depends Undergarments and pushing walkers.
At the risk of sounding like a bitch, I have something crucial to discuss. Now, let me clear something up. Overall, I don't feel that I am a negative person. Sure, I have my pet peeves but I'd like to believe I can discuss those peeves in a humorous manner. I refuse to become an old crotchety person, chock full o' grievances [ grievances that include instances where people use the words "irony" and "literally" completely wrong] - whose negativity can be seen coming off in waves, much like Pig Pen's dirt waves. However, this particular thing needs to be addressed immediately.
Yesterday, I came across [1. The fact that this S Whistler was a plaintiff on Judge Judy and I could have easily changed the channel is irrelevant. I loves me some Judge Judy.] an S Whistler. You know, one of those people who, when speaking, holds their S's into a long high-pitched whistle that only myself and dogs can hear? I used to be able to tolerate these people by simply telling myself they: a) have a speech impediment, b) are unaware they are whistling their S's, or c) they just like to annoy the shit out of people like me, who notice these things.
Generally, I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. However, after yesterday, I am convinced that S Whistlers purposefully choose words that contain lots of S's or the S sound just to annoy people with their whistle. Seriously, figure out from where the wind is escaping in your mouth. Do you have a small gap between your teeth somewhere? If so, then DO something, anything - stick a Chicklet in there for all I care. Just please STOP the S whistling.
