Monday, November 30, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
I tried to put off going to the doctor a teeny bit too long, and as a result am enjoying a bit of a fever, dizziness, nausea, and headache right now. I should have gone Saturday when I saw it was getting worse, not better. I wouldn't have even gone today, but a friend said to me, "If this was happening to one of your kids, would you take them in today or wait till tomorrow?"
I would have taken them in yesterday. No question.
I think that's going to be my new "Should I go to the doctor?" guide. It makes the answer so obvious. I just wish she'd asked me that on Friday. Sigh. Hopefully these antibiotics kick in really soon, because I feel poopy and my boobs are grossing me out.
Having said that, I've decided I give up on NaBloPoMo being good on any level. And I promise to try to put up one or two good posts next month to make up for the dumbest month of blogging in history.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
For crying out loud. I can't believe this isn't over. Honestly, this is the worst NaBloPoMo in the history of NaBloPoMos. I have nothing to say, other than my boobs hurt, and now both sides are infected, which probably means I should be put back on oral antibiotics which I don't want to do, because today was the first day without diarrhea since almost two whole weeks ago. Judging by the way things have been going, antibiotics will just send me straight back to the toilet.
Yes. Diarrhea. I went there. I am so out of things to talk about that I'm now talking about even that aspect of my misery. Actually, it's not even just about not having anything interesting to say, it's about my mind being completely stressed out by all of this and totally unable to think about anything else.
December can't come soon enough.
Friday, November 27, 2015
I don't think I should have to write a post today because my incision is infected and it's really gross and all I can think about. I don't handle wounds well, especially on myself. Ask Ang. The first time I saw my incision from my ankle surgery I burst into hysterical tears. Imagine my state last night when one of my incisions popped open all disgusting and yucky. I apologized to the doctor for appearing crazy. I want to pour alchohol in it like they do to people who get shot in all the historical romances I read. I feel certain that burning the crap out of it is the answer. Ang has urged me to follow the doctor's instructions.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Is it December yet? I don't want to do this anymore. I just want to watch Doctor Who and hold this little purring kitten. If I weren't typing I could be eating sunflower seeds, so I'm going to get this over with.
Here's a picture of me playing in my first band concert in 20 years. Everyone who knows me knows I used to be a huge band geek, and I missed it. I used to say that if I could live over three weeks of my life, one would be my honeymoon, one would be camp, and one would be a marching band trip. Now all of them would be weeks with my dad, but still, band is way up there.
I almost cried my first practice. It felt like coming home. I wish I could go back in time and fix my flute ten years ago. It haunts me a little that I could have been in band all this time, but the important thing is I get to do it now. It's the funnest and best part of my week every single week.
And the flute section is the funnest section. I love all of my flute buddies. The first week, one of our sheets of music had written on it "at least try." That's our motto now. I might make us all t-shirts.
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Since I seriously can't think of anything to post about, other than my friend's new kitten, and even I have my kitten post limits... Let's talk about my nipples.
Oh yes, this is happening.
A long time ago I wrote a post on here about thrush and how it felt like someone was cutting off my nipples with a utility knife. In my mind, that sounded like the most painful thing I could think of... having your nipples cut off.
So I wasn't looking forward to that part of the breast reduction. They cut your nipples right off, you know. They leave the blood vessels and stuff attached, but they move your whole nipples. Zoop! Just like that.
Want to know what's crazy? It doesn't hurt that bad. Right from the beginning my nipples have felt awesome, especially compared to the incisions under my armpits. Those ones hurt like a bugger. But it turns out having your nipples cut off is no big deal.
Who'd a thunk it?
**** Title credit goes to Melissa who has already suffered through this whole conversation.
Monday, November 23, 2015
I did the most amazing thing today. I went to The Bay. I picked out a bra I liked. I tried it on. It fit. I bought it.
There were billions though. Billions and billions of bras I could have tried on and I bet they would have fit too. No spillage. No trying to cram the spillage into the cup and somehow make something, anything! work. And it was at a regular store that regular people go to and buy stuff.
Do you know, I couldn't even find bras that contained me at the fat stores??? I usually just picked the one that came the closest. It didn't matter what it looked like or felt like on, just so long as not too much of my boobs were hanging out.
But today there were billions that would have worked, but I was tired and sore so I just bought the first thing that I tried on.
It. Was. EPIC.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Crap! I almost forgot to post. Since I haven't gone to bed yet, it's still Sunday to me.
Here's a link to a video of a lion cub trying to roar. I can't figure out how to embed it on my phone. Lol. This is seriously the best I can do.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
I took Ben to Giant Tiger to look for ski pants today. We hadn't been able to find any black ones at Walmart or Superstore so far this winter, so I was worried we'd have to go someplace expensive next. But we found some. Nice and cheap. We like that. Except, wouldn't you know it, the only ones in Ben's size were "girl" ones. They were virtually identical to the "boy" ones except for the logo is in pink, not blue, but still...
And then Ben said these words, "Can't we just stick some duct tape over that?"
I nearly couldn't contain myself. Almost bursting into tears along with my helpless laughter I said, "Ben!!! Your grampa would be SO PROUD!!!!!"
And I was proud. Ben is still my dad's grandson. This proves it. He hasn't been here for so many of Ben's growing up years, but that is a Braun. And not just any Braun, John Braun's number one grandson. Ben-jo-min. I was bursting with pride and joy. I think Ben thought I had gone a bit crazy.
Our Ben. Not only does he hate shopping so much that he'll buy almost anything just to get it over with, his first thought is to break out the handyman's secret weapon to fix whatever is wrong with it. Somewhere in heaven my dad is smiling his most happy smile and proclaiming, "That's my boy!" And right here, down on Earth, I just love them both. So much.
Friday, November 20, 2015
So I didn't apply for that job.
There were a few good reasons. One of them was I really didn't feel like the timing was right. I didn't want to start my first real job recovering from surgery. And I knew there were going to be some huge challenges that I was pretty nervous about taking on when I wouldn't even be 100% healthy. But I told myself I could and should at least try, and had almost talked myself into applying. Then, on the evening that applications were closing I read a friend's blog post about her own unproductive and depressing search for the perfect job. And she was waiting. She wasn't desperately just grabbing anything that came along. The right job wasn't there, which stunk, but in the meantime she wasn't applying for the wrong jobs.
That seemed right in my heart. "Be patient," I thought to myself. And I felt peace.
And then last night a friend texted me the news... I would have very likely got it. And it's almost certain they would have been okay with waiting till December for me to start. I would have got to work right alongside a teaching hero of mine, and I would have made a whole bunch of money, and got some amazing experience. I might have used a cuss word. What had I done? I should have applied! Sure, there were some things that I was worried about, but IT'S A JOB. Who cares? I could have figured it out and then toughed it out.
But today I applied for another job that was posted yesterday, the day after I could have been hired for the first job. And this job. THIS job. THIS JOB!!!!! Ohhhhhhhhhhh, I want this job. It's a wildest fantasy type job. And I couldn't have applied for it if I'd already taken the other.
So I am hoping hoping hoping that the voice in my heart telling me to wait, making me feel nervous about applying for the job was God's voice. I'm hoping hoping hoping that when I felt so right about just being patient and applying for something I really want, it was God with something perfect waiting just around the corner.
Can you hope with me? And pray?
Thursday, November 19, 2015
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
So, for the last week or so there's been a cucumber in my fridge with Fritti's name on it, because Ang and I saw this YouTube video of people scaring their cats with cucumbers.
And it's fantastic.
Obviously, I had to try it. (Even if some people might think it's "despicable" and makes them "question my humanity." Actually, that just makes me want to do it more.)
It turned out pretty much exactly the way I expected it to.
(This video is taking an eternity to upload. And I'm really tired. And I want to take my pain pill and be even tireder. So it might have to wait till tomorrow.)
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Monday, November 16, 2015
Who wants to hear about how pukey I'm still feeling? No? Good! Because I took some really cute pictures of the cats today.
I swear, I am never having another surgery without a litter of kittens to keep me company. Because seriously... narcotics, adorable kittens, a sappy romance novel, and zero guilt about being lazy all day? That, my friends, is an excellent way to spend the day, even if you feel like puking. (Actually, it's probably better that I feel kind of sick. There's still a lot of Halloween candy in this house, and I have nothing but time and opportunity.)
And Fritti loves them almost as much as I do, which makes me love him even more. Look how he's hugging them! I'm so happy. All of this was the best idea ever.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
I just want to lay in my bed all day. (That's how that song goes right?)
Listen. My boobs hurt and I'm stoned. I shouldn't have to write a big long post in this condition right? I should be able to watch Doctor Who and hold kittens and make people bring me stuff. And honestly, if I wrote a post right now you wouldn't like it anyways. It would be all about constipation, and drainage, and why everything tastes funny. Be glad I'm busily watching Dinosaurs On A Spaceship.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Friday, November 13, 2015
Thursday, November 12, 2015
Ang sent me this text Becca's sitter sent to her this afternoon:
In related news, my surgery went SO well. I feel way better than I thought I would, and I did right from the moment I woke up. (Cried a bit on the operating table before they put me under though. Lame. As usual.) I was in and out of there in under five hours. The nurses kept saying how amazed they were at how well I was doing. (And also that my boobs look great. I totally agree with them. They're like totes amazeballs. Literally.) I might actually have to be careful to take it easy though, because I feel that good.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
Spent today running around like a crazy person trying to get everything done that I won't be able to do post-surgery. Stressed. Lots of frustration and yelling. So when it was time to say goodbye to the kids Ben was mad at me. I don't blame him. But since I'm always half-convinced I'll die whenever I take a trip without them, and more than half-convinced I'll die in surgery, saying goodbye SUCKED. I wish I had been a better mom today. I hate that feeling, of letting them down, of not being what they deserve. Blah.
By this time tomorrow I'll be right back where I'm sitting right now. In my bed, with the kids downstairs with Ang, hopefully hopped up on drugs. And it will all be over.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Some people seem very surprised when I tell them I'm getting a breast reduction. I get it. It's a pretty drastic step. I was going to write a post explaining my reasons, but I found this draft that I wrote and didn't post that explains it perfectly. (I do that every now and then when I need to write something to feel better, but don't really need anyone to read it.) I wrote this one in June. My doctor is fairly certain it wasn't arthritis, but plain old back strain. I was on muscle relaxants till just last month. I'm feeling better, but it was bad there for a while, and that kind of pain leaves behind a bit of a terror of its return...
So that's the main reason. If there's something I can do to maybe not have to live like that again, I'll do it. And the rest is all kinds of lovely bonuses. I'm really looking forward to everything being more comfortable... bras, clothes, swimsuits! It'll be fab. I just have to get through this next bit.Un Comfort AbleI hurt. All the time. It's been a while since I've been so sore, I'd forgotten how completely exhausting it is. And most of the time, the pain is just there in the background. It's like when you work out, and you're stiff... just a dull ache that you don't really notice until you move wrong.
But here's the thing, it's always there. Hurting. Every single minute of every single day. Sometimes, I don't notice how bad it's hurting until I sit in the exact right position with some nice soft pillows and I feel almost comfortable. Then I don't want to move again. Ever.
Comfort-able. I'm not, really. Nothing can comfort me. Nothing seems to help. Nothing can fix it, or make it go all the way away. Even when I'm sleeping I often dream about how much I hurt, or get woken up when the pain is so bad it's jumped out of the background to the only thing I can possibly think about and I can't move or even take a breath. Just a breath, I can't catch my breath it hurts so much.
I know I am whiny. I complain that I hurt to the people around me. But honestly, if someone could climb into my body and feel how bruised and beaten I feel every minute of every day I think they'd see... I could complain every minute, but even I, super whiny, don't do that. I push it into the background most of the time, because what else can you do? It just makes me so tired.
Monday, November 09, 2015
I'm a bit of a mess today. And I just kind of want my daddy. I've often said that I'm okay, that really, I just need him for my kids. But every now and then I want my dad for just me.
I think I'd be emotional today anyways, I'm having a breast reduction on Thursday, which is a big deal. I'm freaking out. I'm always pretty certain, in times like these, that things are going to go horribly wrong and I'm going to die. My head can explain in very clear terms why I'm being silly, but I don't believe it.
And I know what would have happened if I'd done this ten years ago. Mom and Dad would have come to stay a week. Mom would have cooked and cleaned and taken care of me and watched reality TV with me and kept me company. Dad would have probably fixed my fence and put up some trim and played with the kids and taken naps on the couch with his book open on his chest. I shouldn't think about it, but when I do, it makes me so sad.
And I'm a lucky lucky girl, because my sister is coming. Even though I've told her a few times I'll be okay, she knows I'm delusional and she's coming to take care of me. So I'll be okay. She'll do all of those things except the fix-it stuff, plus eat my sunflower seeds and drink my booze. And she's bringing my Becca.
But I'm still a bit of a mess over the whole thing.
So of course our van broke down to send me over the edge today. And Glen and I have no idea what to do about it. Which makes me want my dad. Because if he was alive he'd be coming this week anyways, and he'd put a space heater in our garage and try to figure out how to keep the stupid thing running just a little bit longer. Maybe there'd be duct tape.
Ang called. I feel better. She's bringing Gramma's potato salad and has plans to make borscht. (But if you think of it, send a prayer my way for super early in the morning on Thursday. I'm pretty nervous. And pray that we can get our van going again, because we can't afford a new one right now.)
Sunday, November 08, 2015
Fritti is a bit of an asshole. He routinely hunts and then tries to eat the children. If he gets outside and you try and catch him to bring him back inside, he will try to savage you. And if he sees another cat outside through the window or screen door, it's DEFCON 1 in here. Imminent attack. Arm the missiles.
So I was a little leery about bringing four teeny helpless kittens into our home. Except, it seemed like the best possible way to introduce him to even the possibility of a new cat on his turf. Because who could possibly be threatened by a wobbly little ball of adorableness? Fritti. That's who. Or so I thought.
We took it so slow. He didn't even really see them the first few days. I just rubbed them on things. After that he saw them, but from across a whole room. And not running around, mostly because they couldn't really do that yet anyways, he saw us holding them. He disappeared for an entire day when they first got here. When he came back he would approach the bucket o' kittens veeeeeery slowly and then give it a quick sniff, a hiss, and then run away. Then he added peaking inside to that. And ever so gradually he stopped hissing and running and just sat and watched.
I was so sure he'd take up the asshole a few notches, but he never did. Even at the beginning he was so calm about all of it. I was shocked at how quickly he got used to me setting a kitten down beside him, and then bowled over when he started licking them. He loves to lick those kittens. And watch the kittens play. And yes, pounce and roll the kittens, and eat their food, and boof the kittens (that's what I call when they walk by and he just "boofs" them), and knock them off of things, and once he starts stalking them he is relentless and I have to take them away from him if I want him to stop.
But seriously. I never, in my wildest kitten fantasies expected things to go this well.
This has turned out to be one of my most genius plans ever.
Saturday, November 07, 2015
Freedom! Freedom! FREEDOM!
Friday, November 06, 2015
I spent a good part of today trying to decide if I should apply for a job I'd like or not. Part of the reason I was thinking "not" is that I have a surgery booked (I'll tell you about that later) next week and would be recovering when the job starts. But it's a perfect job. At my favourite school. But job hunting has been completely demoralizing, we're talking not-even-been-able-to-land-an-interview demoralizing.
But I had a nice day subbing today, I had grade nines tell me I'm their favourite teacher and beg me to apply to teach at their school. And then a friend told me some lovely things that were said by someone I subbed for this fall. So that kind of thing makes me think that I can do it, even if no one has thought so enough to interview me yet.
It's hard to know what to do, what to choose, so I think I've decided to apply and just see what happens.
Thursday, November 05, 2015
Wednesday, November 04, 2015
Look what's made it into my freezer finally today. I say finally, because yes, I know, Christmas is a long way away... But what you need to understand is that last year I missed it somehow. I couldn't find any in Yorkton when I looked, which was when Melissa and/or Jonathan posted a picture/called me and told me they were eating it.
And I missed it. But not this year, oh no, not this year.
(I just noticed that I took a picture of the French side. lol. Vive la crème glacée!)
Tuesday, November 03, 2015
Monday, November 02, 2015
On the way to the eye doctor today Hannah cried, because I told her she could only get glasses if Dr. Grunert said she needs them. And on the way home Sam cried because, of course, he is the one that could use a pair.
But look, isn't he adorable?
His priority? Which glasses will be most likely to help him get a girlfriend? I ♥ him. It's inconceivable to me that any girl could possibly resist that face.
Sunday, November 01, 2015
(My new very favourite thing to hear on a Wednesday.)
It was with a feeling of
dread jubilant anticipation that I realized today is the start of November. You can see by my last post that the blogging was nonexistent astonishingly prolific on here throughout the rest of the year, as is my custom. I think you can all expect to be reading some mundane mind-blowing posts this month, again, as is my custom.
So let's start this out right. Here's a picture of Ang and the kids playing Wii tonight.
Bam. This blogging thing is dead easy.