Saturday, February 28, 2009
Things I hate about being sick:
The feeling that your head will explode at any given moment.
Red, puffy, swollen eyes that won't stop crying.
Red, irritated nose that would give Rudolf a run for his money.
Sneezing, with a seismic rating of 8.0 on the Richter scale. Can we say the big one?
The feverish chills and sweating episodes.
Ears that are plugged and feel like you are underwater.
The waterfall of yucky stuff coming from your sinuses, requiring the use of 10 boxes of Kleenex and 6 rolls of TP.
Children who insist that life go on as normal such as meals and transportation.
Yesterday, my husband was home and I went to bed at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, after taking all the cold medicine I could find. I had a fitful 5 hour nap, was up for a few hours, and then spent the rest of the night tossing and turning.
Surely it can't go on for that long. I have been drinking about 3 or 4 emergencies a day. That's probably enough vitamin C to kill the wost of any virus. We will see. In the mean time I will just have to get used to feeling like me head is the size of a watermelon.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
So here is the tag, go to the 6th folder and open the 6th picture and post it on your blog.
Here is Diana with her gingerbread house that was a purchased kit. Nice huh.
Monday, February 23, 2009
So for my $25 dollars, I have been subjected to the humiliation of seeing myself in all the mirrors. The horror and terror, I am pretty sure I saw a small child cry and run away. At least I am sure it would have if it wasn't being entertained at the play room.
I think if I ever own a gym, there will be a no mirror rule. Or better yet, the mirrors should be magical and show you what you will look like if you continue to come to the gym, because then when you see yourself at home, you would jump in the car and go to the gym to see your self the way you could be.
Or maybe for that much money, they could provide me with a blindfold and guide dog to get me from the dressing room to the machines in the women's gym. Or better yet, how about a conveyor belt like they have in airports. I think it is so rude to make people walk to where they are going to be exercising. We should just be able to ride along and jump off where we want to start our work out.
In addition to humiliation, as an added bonus, I get to have TMI (too much information) in the form of what color thong underwear the person exercising in front of me is wearing, because her sweats keep falling down. Or if she bends over to stretch. Again with the horror and terror. Seriously there should be a law or something. Can I get an amen sister? Talk about a bang for your buck. Eeeewww.
Then there is the annoying part when you can't get one of the machines that has a TV on it and lets you pick the channel you want to watch, so you can numb your senses about the fact that you are exercising. Instead, you are stuck with the four TV choices that are up on the wall. These consist of MTV, Comedy Channel, Fox News, or discovery channel showing Dirty Jobs. I would much rather watch the food channel while I am exercising. Might as well plan what you deserve to eat because you exercised, right?
Man this is good stuff, I should become a marketer for the gym, huh?
After the gym, I decided to stop and get some Chinese food. My husband was gone on a camp out, and I didn't feel like cooking after working out.
Diana was with me, she loves the playroom at the gym, especially the DDR, dance video game they have.
She took the keys out of the ignition and said she would hold them for me. I should have known better. This is me and my life we are talking about here. Have I learned, nothing from the past. Apparently not, so I am doomed, doomed I say.
We ordered. Waited patiently in an impatient way for our food. Then we headed to the car. I looked for the keys, at which time I remembered that she had them last. I asked her where the keys were to which she replied she didn't have them. Problem.
We went back inside, and I asked if anyone had turned in some keys. No luck. We searched everywhere she had been in the restaurant, the table, the pop/soda machine, everywhere. NO keys.
I went out and looked to see if they were still in the car. NO. We looked to see if they had fallen on the ground while we were walking in. NOPE.
My mind raced as to what to do. My husband was gone right, so he was useless. Actually at this moment the other two spare keys to my car are lost and this was the only one I had. I cursed my lack of making 20 copies for just such occasions.
Just as a side note, about 18 years ago, I lost a set of car keys while I was at work. I drove the 17 miles to work in the morning, and then even went out to lunch. But when it was time to go home, no keys to be found anywhere. Finally my husband had to get someone to drive him to bring me an extra key as we were a one car family at the time. Good grief. And I never did find that key. Who knows. Bermuda triangle, is my best theory.
So back to my daughter and me, stranded at Pick up Styx. I was thinking that she may have dropped them into the garbage can when she threw away the wrapper to her straw. I looked in to see if anything was evident. NO. Just uneaten food, napkins, drink cups. You know just the kind of thing you would rather be dead than stick your hand into.
It was as I was weighing the options of searching through the disgusting trash can, calling a friend to give us a ride home leaving the car stranded, or paying an arm and a leg to a lock smith, when a worker came and saved our life. One of the other workers had found the keys somewhere. We were spared from spending our Friday night dumpster diving.
It is at this point that I am thinking my kids are ganging up on me to see how long it will take me to pull all my hair out. They must really want to see me bald. What will be my breaking point? I bet they even have a pool.
And I still have the answered questions of will my nice padded cell have Internet connection so I can still blog, and when they come to take me away and put me in the straight jacket, will it make me look fat.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Another of life's little practical jokes, in which I consider if pulling all my hair out would be worth the cost of a wig.
I worked for a few hours this morning, and came home to pick up Jared and take him to his follow up appointment with the gastric doctor. We left in a bit of hurry. Jared beat me to the car and was sitting inside of it honking the horn in short sporadic rhythmic spurts. I was not amused as I was running around inside the house trying to gather a few things, like his shoes and socks that he conveniently did not put on.
So I jumped in the car and off we went. He hadn't had lunch, but a quick/not so quick stop by Wendys solved that problem.
I have only driven to this doctor office one other time and it was from the pediatricians office, so I wasn't quite sure about how to get there. Minor irritating details of life.
It is right next to the hospital that we went to last week, but after driving there, I was convinced that I had taken the scenic route, so today I opted for what I hoped would be the fastest route.
Our appointment was for 2:15, and we pulled into the parking lot about 2:05. Our parking karma seemed to be all used up. Not a spot to be found, let alone a handicap one. What is with all these handicap people and doctors offices?
After circling several times, I spotted someone walking to their car, and followed them at what I hoped was a distance that did not scare her, but at the same time let other drivers in my same plight know that I had staked a claim to the soon to be vacant spot.
At last she pulled out, and in my eagerness we almost kissed bumpers, but I manged to avoid the fun that comes with car accidents today. So I pulled in and felt triumphant. We would need to walk a ways, but Jared said he could do it.
As I got out of the car, and went to get the crutches out for Jared, an empty back seat met my ever widening eyes of terror. I looked again. Not much chance of missing crutches that are tall enough for a 6'2" kid. No crutches.
I said to Jared, "Why aren't your crutches in the car" To which he bravely/stupidly responded "I guess you didn't put them in". Oh Mylanta.
At this point I called into the doctors office and spoke to someone and explained the absurd situation we were facing.
Yes, we are here for appointment that is in 5 minutes, but we have no way to get up to the second floor.
Does the doctor make car visits? No I didn't think so.
Is it really necessary that he actually see the patient in the flesh? Yes, I thought you would say that.
Do you have a wheel chair in your office I could use? No, but maybe next door at the hospital.
OK, I will try.
As I was having this conversation I was walking through the medical office building looking for a wheel chair. No luck.
So I went back out to the car and pulled around the corner to the valet parking. No one was there so I left Jared sitting in the car and told him to tell the valet guy to just wait to park the car.
I entered the lobby, and saw a volunteer information desk that was unattended. So I went back to where we had been last week. Down several long halls. I came to a door that was stuck a little bit, but when I put my shoulder to it, it gave way and I went back to the surgery center.
It was barren as the Sahara desert. Not a person to be seen anywhere. Obviously they were closed today. So I tried to get back to the lobby, but the door that I had to push so hard on, it was now closed all the way and locked.
Great now I am trapped in side this place. It's not that I don't love hospitals mind you, but being trapped somewhere was not my idea of a good time as I was on a mission impossible. And what would I do? Call 911 and say, hey I am trapped in a closed, locked section of the hospital, can you send a fire truck or something?
Instead I gathered my wits, although sparse at the moment, and saw a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only". Now I don't know what they meant by authorized, but if they meant someone who was about to have a meltdown, then I was authorized.
So I pushed on the door, and it opened. And then I walked down a long hallway full of people, nurses, doctors, patients IN WHEEL CHAIRS. And no one even spoke to me. Do you think it was my crazed face of determination? And it was like when you want to buy a certain car and all you see on the road is that particular car, do you know what I mean? Surely not everyone had a wheel chair, but it seemed like it.
Eventually I found myself back in the lobby, where I felt as if I had just run a marathon, not that I would know what that feels like, but if running a marathon makes you feel like you want to fall on the floor and never walk again after throwing up, then that was how I felt.
I plead with someone at the express check in TO FIND ME A WHEEL CHAIR. Perhaps something in my eyes warned her not to trifle with me, and so she went to see what she could find.
She was not soon in returning, at which point I noticed that the volunteer desk was now occupied. I hastened to her desk, where she said I could use her wheel chair as long as I brought it back. I was desperate. I told her I would be happy to give her my drivers license/credit card/second born son (Jared) as a deposit. She said it wouldn't be necessary.
The good news during all of this is that Jared had lost his phone, and so I was spared the text messages and calls informing me of his impending death or blood clot as he waited impatiently in the car. The bad news is that I did not have my mp3, and even if I did, I do not have a playlist titled musicforthefranticsearchforawheelchairbecauseyouhavenocrutches. How unprepared of me. Surely I could have anticipated such a thing if I were only physic.
The wheel chair did not have any foot rests so he had to try and hold his legs up. We raced off to the medical office building. We sped by an old lady with a walker. On the bright side it was a nice sunny day.
After all of that, the rest of the appointment was pretty boring. The doctor told us that the biopsy showed that his stomach is a bit inflamed. This could be due to stress, medications, or other things. Although he couldn't really say why it was like that, he could give him some medication that would coat his stomach. He needs to take it 40 minutes before eating. Jared is to take it for a week and then if he doesn't feel better, the next thing is to have an ultrasound.
We checked out and headed back to get the car. It was at this point that I realized that I did not have any cash. For some reason the line from Pride and Prejudice came to mind: "I wish that I had saved up money with which to bribe silly young men into marrying my daughters, but alas I did not." Or something like that. I too wish I had a stash of ones which which to tip valet parkers for desparate times when we can not park our own cars.
Do you think it was too ridiculous to tip someone with two quarters? The guy was very understanding and didn't even give me a dirty look, but I wonder what he said to his co worker. Maybe they pool the tips. That would be good, huh.
And so another medical story comes to a close. I suppose I should be grateful for such good material to blog about, but I am not sure that I wouldn't rather be postless.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
It is interesting, my job last week for the actual furniture show, was to stand at the doorway of the Global Views showroom and greet people. You know saying things like "Welcome to Global Views" and the always popular "Have a nice day". I did, however, manage to squeeze in a few ba bye's ala Helen Hunt on Saturday Night live stewardess sketch. But man being cheerful and smiling all day long is exhausting.
Can you imagine what would happen if when customers asked "How are you today?" I responded with saying "well my back is killing me, my feet hurt even worse, and I have a son with multiple medical issues, and a mother and mother in law both undergoing Chemo for breast cancer. Not to mention a husband whose job wants to cut back his hours, a pool that looks like a swamp and a house that looks like a candidate for clean sweep or some other television make over show, and I am not prepared for the pandemic flu that I keep reading is coming, let alone knowing what to do with my wheat, despite my ward's valiant efforts to teach me. "
So instead of scaring customers away, I lie through my teeth about 500 times a day and say "I am fine, How are you?" And they probably lie right back to me as well.
All this faking it did seem to rub off a tiny bit. It was a change for me, and sometimes a change is as good as a rest. But other times a coma or a straight jacket are as good as a rest.
I do bow down in ardent admiration to any working mothers. Honestly I have no idea how you can do it all the time. I have seriously neglected my full time motherhood job, for my full time paying job for three weeks. Hopefully no one is scarred for life. And hey now I can pay for their therapy, right? And now I can try to get every one back on track and doing what they are suppose to be doing, when they are suppose to be doing it.
So I am extremely grateful for the extra cash, which is already spent and will go to paying off debts. But it has nearly killed me both physically and emotionally and to say I am glad it is over would be an understatement like saying the Titanic was a little bit wet and cold.
Perhaps it will help me appreciate the blessing of having only one full time job. We will see. I already made two phone calls about medical issues today, so it is good to have time to work on those problems again. Just like when it is good to get a root canal. And now I am taking my daughter to the mall for a long promised trip. Although I don't remember the promising, but she assures me that the promise was made and insists I make good on said promise.
Some important things were learned during my foray into the work field:
A family can survive for three weeks on cold cereal, chips, frozen food both cooked and uncooked, and various canned goods. Although no one cracked open the number 10 cans of wheat, so it couldn't have been that big of an emergency, despite their cries otherwise.
The day of miracles has not ceased as attested to by the fact that my 17 year old found his work shoes one day and his apron and cap on another day all by his very own self. This is something that would have fallen under my expertise had I been home to rescue him. Good job of bending and lifting things and looking in more than one place, son.
It would appear that I am the one doing much of the stuff that needs doing around here, as most things did not happen. You know things like getting the mail, picking things up around the house, handling of school affairs, and life's little luxuries like food and water. To my husbands credit, he did do the laundry one Saturday, which can not be discounted in its helpfulness to me.
Although I had assumed otherwise, I was able to adapt to the custom of putting on a bra, clothes, and make up every day. I figured that it was a habit I had manage to completely break but wearing a bra, clothes, and make up must be like riding a bike. Easy to get back into. Although I have never ridden a bike without my clothes so perhaps I have nothing with which to compare it to. Anywho, I even wore clothes that made me look professional, instead of a bag lady having a bad hair day.
Truth be told, I would never want to have a career. Way to much pressure. Unless it was a career as a Broadway star, then I might be interested. So for now, I will be very content to return to my life as a full time mom with my little some times part time job.
And who knows someday, when my kids are grown, I may find myself returning to the workforce in my chosen profession of accountant, but til then you will find me bra less, laying on my couch, eating bon bons watching Oprah. Oh, yeah and resuming my position as the chief operating officer of our household as well.
Monday, February 16, 2009
And then in the freezer section, this fun little item. Luckeeeee! Can it go off any cool jumps? Vote for Pedro and all that fun lingo. Tell me your favorite Napoleon quote in my comment box, unless you don't have one, in which case I like you anyway.
So I think it was a very nice evening, even if I didn't get chocolate or flowers. I'm not really into that anyway, and my husband has had a $50 gift card to Cheesecake factory that we hope to use in the very near future. So it is all good in the neighborhood.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
This is what the package looked like before an absent minded 17 year old got a hold of it and put it in my beautiful new microwave. (Cue ominous music usually reserved for horror movies.)
If one was inclined to read the directions and follow them, one might notice that one should add water to the noodles in the package and cook in microwave for 6 minutes.
If one is a 17 year old male, with better things to do than follow directions, one might just put the package in the microwave, hit 6 minutes and walk away, with nary a care in the world.
And when the house fills with the smells of an outdoor camp fire, one might expect one to notice.
And no amount of cleaning, opening of windows, spraying of air freshener, or ranting and raving, made any difference the first day. I finally realized that the smell was in the microwave itself. The inside was permanently stained a golden brown. No amount of bleach even made a dent. And I think the filters and inside were permanently charred.
I tried not to despair that my brand new microwave now smelt to high heaven of burnt offerings. But I was tempted to make some burnt offerings of my own, if you know what I mean.
So here is Diana doing a very nice Vanna impression as we are taking the microwave into Lowes.
Did I mention that by some divine intervention, I for once had purchased the extended warranty on the darn thing? I don't think it mattered, but it couldn't have hurt.
I walked up to the return desk at 8:30 pm and told the girl at the register that I needed to return my microwave. She asked why, and I said because it smells of smoke and I can't keep it. She asked what happened, and I openly admitted that my son had burned something in it.
At this point the manager was called. He asked the same questions, and I was equally open with him. He checked my receipt and because it was less that 30 days, he said they would refund my money.
And so the same guy that loaded/crammed it into the back seat of my car, helped me out with a brand new microwave. And we left the burnt offering back at Lowe's.
It seems to good to be true. But this time, a tragic event has actually worked out to be Okay. Who'd have thunk it?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Today was the day for Jared's endoscopy. Even though I have been working ridiculous hours that have left me with the energy of a wet noodle, I manged to feel stress/anxiety/concern over yet another medical procedure. I hate it when life's little/ginormous worries make their way into my dreams/nightmares. So not fair. Sleep should be a safe haven, but alas the sub conscience says it isn't so.
Because the procedure would involve anesthesia and because the medical system takes pride in poking me in the eye as often as it can, Jared had to be NPO starting at midnight last night. For those of you who did not go to medical school NPO stands for Nil per os, which in English means nothing by mouth, and in Jaredspeak means Nothing Pleasant Out of his mouth, once he woke up this morning.
I gathered all I could think to take with us to the hospital, which was pretty much my whole house including the kitchen sink. I kept throwing things into the back seat of the car as we were preparing to leave. The lap top, the heating pad, my gospel doctrine manual, and so on.
After much groaning and moaning and wailing, I had him in the car and we backed down the drive way. A minute later I remembered I had forgotten the movies to watch on the lap top. So we did a u-turn and I ran in to get something to occupy the hours of waiting.
It was at this point that I got a lovely call from my daughter at her school informing me that it was picture day. I mentally thought about what she had worn to school. Nothing ripped, stained, or unflattering, good news. But I had not filled out the form and sent a check. So we made a quick pit stop at the school in which I ran in, filled out paper work, and wrote a check. It was my last check, how life did not decide to spit on me by my check book already being empty was nothing short of a miracle. And the first blessing of the day.
The other good news was that I was spared all of the drama that picture day usually brings. No complaints that her hair wasn't right or she didn't have the right outfit. I have decided that I wish it would be this way every time. Surprise picture days totally rock.
So we were off to the hospital. Did I mention that it was our third hospital since this whole medical crisis first began last July? I suppose before he is totally recovered, we will have attended all the hospitals in Vegas. But I am not setting it as a goal or anything. Do you hear that universe? I will be content with just the three hospitals we have visited. Although if we do go to all of them I could write a nice little book reviewing all of them. Kind of a medical Zagat rating system, if you will.
This hospital is called Summerlin hospital, and guess what? They had valet parking. This was totally awesome because the little picture fiasco had delayed us a bit and we were a few minutes late. So when I saw "Complimentary Valet parking" I was all over that, like white on rice.
This is where it got a little embarrassing, as the valet guy had to wait while I stuffed all of the contents of my back seat into a tote bag. He kept trying to close the door and race off to park my car, and I kept saying just a minute, I need this one more thing. Anyone thinking of the valet parking guy scene from Ferris Bueller's Day Off? I hope that did not happen, but my car is not that exciting to drive.
We wandered the halls for a while until we found where we were supposed to be. Then the fun of filling out the forms and co pays. A nurse came by, and Jared asked if there was any way he could lay down. So she took him right back, while I finished up.
The nurses there were very kind and could not believe all that Jared has been through at such a young age. He was finally able to get the public Wifii to work and kept himself busy with the laptop. I listened to my hospital play list on my mp3, which consists of songs that soothe my aching heart. Also I took advantage of some time to read my lesson for Sunday.
They started an IV and took his vitals. I answered questions from the nurses and anesthesiologist. Before I knew it, it was his turn to be wheeled away. As long as I live, I don't think I will ever get used to the way my stomach feels when that moment comes. I know he will be fine, I know that it is no big deal to have an endoscopy. But I also know that last summer I came close to losing him and I hate not being right by his side at every moment. I some times wonder if at any moment I will just loose my ability to hold it all together and just turn to a puddle of liquid on the floor.
I went to the waiting room and enjoyed the laptop and checked up on some blogs. Before I knew it, the doctor was back to talk to me. He said that everything went well and that he could see nothing obviously wrong. He handed me a nice picture of a pink esophagus and stomach.
This is suppose to be good news. But it means that there is still no explanation as to why he is having stomach pain that is keeping him from school and continuing on his road to recovery. They did take a biopsy and we go to get the results of that next week.
Soon after that they called me back to recovery. This was very funny, because Jared was feeling pretty happy by now. They let him have some juice and he was saying the funniest things. Good news he did not swear. The nurse told me that most kids swear when they are waking up, even if their parents think they don't swear. So apparently even sub consciously Jared does not have a language problem. Good to know.
He told me Happy Birthday and he kept asking the nurse the same questions over and over. It was pretty hilarious. He even asked if there was anyway he could spend the night at the hospital. That can't be a good sign when he wants to be at the hospital rather than being at home.
And before you could say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, we were being wheeled out to the car. We arrived at 9:30 and left at 1:00. I have had longer stays at the ER and urgent care centers.
So best of all it is over. Now that I will be done working, I will go back to working on getting him healthy enough to get back to school. So far in 4 weeks he has only gone 4 days. I will get him signed up on home bound schooling which will mean a teacher will come to the house. I have to get him back to physical therapy 3 times a week, because we have taken a break for the past 2 weeks.
Next week there is a list a mile long of things I have been putting off for the past three weeks. I know I will be glad when I deposit my check and pay my bills I will be even happier.
So we survived another encounter with the medical system and lived to tell about it.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Some wise person once said "When you reach the end of your rope tie a knot and hang on." I think I am there. But it is tempting to tie the knot around my throat instead.
Last night I got home at 8:00 pm and did the dishes that had been sitting there since Sunday all the while crying because I feel so overwhelmed and inadequate to deal with everything going on in my life right now. I prepared a delicious meal of Taco Bell burritos and Tacos. Folded the laundry that was on my bed so I could fall onto it in utter and complete exhaustion.
I am so tired of being everything, to everyone I could just pull my hair out and scream until my voice is gone.
And guess what I don't want to make it, I don't want to get through this. If one more person tells me that I am strong enough to do this, I will strangle them with my bare hands. Unless that would break a nail. Maybe not such a good idea.
Ok I just had to get that out of my system. Vent over. Move along people. Maybe I won't even post this, because I just posted the thing about Diana's fashion show that has been in my draft box for about two weeks.
Crash says I throw the best pity parties, so just FYI refreshments of hot fudge brownies are being served in my comment box. And I make the best hot fudge you have ever had. Just so you know. One of these days I am going to post that recipe.
So if you leave a comment, could it be a joke, because I really need to laugh right now, crying is so last year.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
- I worked 48 hours between Tuesday and Saturday. Friday I worked for RAZ from 9-6 and then went over and worked at Global Views until 8:30. After I got home I had to run to Target and get a birthday present for a sleep over that Diana was invited to at the last minute. Saturday I did sleep in, but then I went in and worked for 5 hours, came home and did 7 loads of laundry, shopped at 4 stores for a new microwave, because of course ours broke the day before, prepared a gospel doctrine lesson, and went grocery shopping. I am physically exhausted, can I get an Amen? Oh yes, the hamster wheel is on overdrive for sure.
- Jared started second semester, went to 2 out of 3 days the first week, 2 out of 5 days the second week, and it doesn't look like he will go this week at all.
- His problem now, besides the ever debilitating nerve pain, is abdominal pain. It has been getting worse over the past few weeks. This past week has been the worst, and at first I thought it was the flu, and of course said suck it up, to him.
- Finally it was so bad Sunday night, that I took him into the ER. I hated to go. I postponed it as long as my conscience would allow. Then I packed up as if I were moving back to the hospital just in case. I wore my warmest sweatshirt. I took my phone charger. No one can say that I have not learned a thing or two about visits to ERs and hospitals. We were there from 7 til midnight. They took a urine sample, did a CBC, and took x-rays of his stomach. They couldn't find anything horribly wrong, so they sent us home to see our pediatrician and get a referral to a gastric specialist. I recognized one of the nurses from the night he was admitted back in July. They did guess that it is an ulcer, but they do not do those kinds of tests at the ER, hence the need for the specialist.
- This morning, I called to get an appointment at 8:00 and was told Wednesday was the soonest. So I called the special doctor office number that I have and they said could we be there at 9:30. We hurried and dropped Diana off at school and headed out on our medical quest.
- Checking in, filling out forms, waiting, waiting, and more waiting, then the pediatrician came in and checked him over, agreed that he needed the specialist and called to see when they would see us. He came back and said could we be there at 11:00, it was 10:30. So we did our best amazing race impersonation because the other office was 20 mins away.
- More checking in, more forms, more waiting, waiting, waiting. The Gastric specialist wanted more blood work done to check his liver, pancreas, and gall bladder levels. Also he scheduled us to be scoped next week on Thursday. I am suppose to work that day, but they will have to let me have it off.
- Next we went to the lab, where guess what we checked in, filled out forms, and waited. One couple who were there before us got so mad because someone was taken back before them. The receptionist tried to explain that the person was a STAT order and so they go to the front of the line. This older gentleman pretty much threw a hissy fit and finally left. Which was entertaining to watch and then we moved up in line. I did share his pain though.
- Sorry this is so sloppily written and not very humorous. But it will give you some idea of why I am so missing in action. I hardly have time to breath. This week could be a little bit easier on the work hours and that just might save my sanity which is hanging by the tiniest sliver of something.
The other night I woke up screaming out loud, which is either a sign that I am too stressed out or I just like my profile picture so much that I try to imitate it at any given moment.
I will get through this. I am reading a book called When you can't do it alone, or something like that. He talks about having a break down as a mission president when the stress got to be to much and how focusing on Christ and his love helped him get through hard times. I will keep telling myself that I can do this, and I will make it and maybe I can fake it til I make it.