| Aynde 的个人资料Maniacal Ravings of a Lu...日志列表 |  工具  帮助 |
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1月9日 Having IssuesWith my stinking computer..... I am trying to changy the blog also. Wish me luck. LOL  1月5日 Talking about Breakfast In Bed....
Quote Breakfast In Bed? My Name in ChineseAynde vs. The Grim Reaper Part 3The evening nurse cometh.......
Mark. Mark was the epitome of all the Rock Springs male cliché’s you could thing of. Mullet, porno mustache, members–only jacket, probably drove a Trans-am. Terrifying is not strong enough of a word. He spent insurmountable amounts of time in my room. StudHombre thinks he had some kids of sicko crush on me. LOL! Hell is the 7th floor of the hospital when Mark is on duty. By the way if he is not on duty he visits on his night off. I am sure he does this with all his patients.
 This is exactly what he looked like. I am not kidding.
In the morning on day 5 of my wonderful stay they start getting serious about me being discharged. All I needed was another cat scan of my lungs to make sure the clot was dissolving. If the cat scan looked good I could go home. So we wait and wait. We wait. And wait. Finally at 8 o’clock that evening the CAT scan folks finally find time to fit me in. Again I have to have the I.V. with the special sauce to put on the light show.
As fate would have it my body would not cooperate. Every time they attempt to stick a needle in me the vein blows wide open. Add to that I have teeny veins and they need to find one big enough to accommodate the right size needle for the special sauce. I was stuck by 3 different nurses multiple times. I can’t remember how many times they stuck me. All I remember is that is was extremely painful and was crying like a little kid.
Finally they gave up and said I had to stay another night until the doc came on rounds the next day and decided what the heck to do with me. Sure enough the doctor came by and said he’d love to let me leave but there was a small problem. My blood pressure was too high. FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!!!
He got out his BP cuff and took it again. By the Grace of God it was normal and he said I could go home. *sigh of relief*
All in all I had spent 6 days in the hospital. By the time I left I felt worse than I did when I went in. I had horrible bruises on my stomach from shots, bruises all up and down my arms from my wrist to my shoulders from IV’s. I was extremely tired and missed my bed, my husband and my kids.
For all the agony…I was still alive. Lucky, lucky me. 1月4日 Aynde vs. The Grim Reaper Part 2 WE have just received the new that I have to be admitted to the ICU........
StudHombre and I are stunned. I am asking why and StudHombre is trying to get a little more info than the standard “it’s a blood clot”. We finally get our answers when we get to the ICU.
The nurse tells us I have a saddle pulmonary embolism. This (very large) clot goes and lodges itself at the bifurcation of the pulmonary artery and obstructs lung blood flow. Saddle embolus can cause almost instantaneous death. Talk about close calls. Apparently the squeezing chest pain I felt was when it passed through the RIGHT SIDE OF MY HEART! Talk about close calls! Thus they feel I need to be on complete bed rest and constant monitoring by medical staff until it is going away. I guess if I was up and moving around I would possibly dislodge the darn thing and die. Really?? No kidding?!
I have to be on 2 or 3 kinds of blood thinners. One of which is a shot I had to receive in the stomach. I can honestly say I’d rather chew on broken glass than have to have another of those shots. Everyone in the curtained off are could hear my profanity laced vocal exclamations when I received the first shot. And the whole time I was in the hospital I got them every 12 hours. In addition I have to take Coumadin, a common blood thinner, in pill form. This according to the very nice doctor is the main ingredient in RAT POISON! He then says “…the therapeutic threshold is very narrow…” Lovely eh?
To make me feel better the nurse kept telling me, as she gave me the shot from hell and small doses of rat poison, that I was very lucky to be alive.
So very lucky. Lucky, lucky me.
Back to the ICU. So sure what’s a couple of days of rest and relaxation?
Complete hell that’s what. The ICU here is all windows except for windows to the outside. And the toilet is just curtained off. There is no phone, no radio and no TV. You are not allowed to receive flowers and only family can visit. When they say complete bed rest they mean complete bed rest. I could not move out of bed not even to go to the bathroom. If I wanted to roll over or adjust the nurse would assist so that I didn't run the risk of dislodging the clot. I am hooked up to a heart monitor and vital signs machine. I have my blood pressure taken every 15 minutes. I am on oxygen. I have this thing hooked to my finger that read my oxygen saturations. I am starting to feel like a Borg recruit. OR Frankenwoman. To make things even better is that all the other patients were about 70 years old and having triple bypass surgery and were practically comatose. And there I am 31 and bored out of my skull. And just to add insult to injury a really great looking male nurse named Philipe (had an accent and was just beautiful) came in especially to put in a catheter (so I could pee in a bag). At this point I wished I had died.
Two and a half days I was there in the ICU. Two and a half days without a shower. Two and a half days of near lethal boredom and finally they said I was out of immediate danger so I could go to the regular hospital floor. The first thing I did was take a shower. Never in my life did a shower feel more wonderful. The regular hospital room had a radio, cable TV, a phone AND a DVD player!!! HUZZAH!!!
Then they said I’d be there for 2 or 3 more days.
Just when I thought I was feeling better.
Again I was stuck on a geriatric floor (literally StudHombre's, mine and your ages added together would still be 20 years shy of the old farts in there). So I am sure the boisterous visits from my friends and family were not appreciated by anyone but me. I was still bed resting but they said I could go for short walks. After a couple of days I am convinced that I am really fine and I really should go home.
No such luck. “You need to stay here until we are sure you are not in any danger” they kept saying. I was soooo sick of the hospital and I missed my kids. Stud Hombre, Bless him stayed by me 24 hours a day. On the evening of my 4th day in the hospital the doctor came by on his evening rounds and again I begged to go home. I even threw in a generous helping of pathetic sobs and whimpering worthy of an academy award for a Steven Spielberg film.
Then the doctor says to me “You don’t have to stay here. You don’t if you don’t want to. I am not the police. I can’t force you to stay here……BUT you will have to sign some papers saying you were released against my wishes and were releasing me from all liability when you drop dead outside the hospital doors.”
Well since he put it that way I decided it was probably best to stay. So there I am on night 4 of my stay feeling as if things could not get any worse. Then the evening nurse came on duty. To be continued.......... 1月3日 Aynde vs. The Grim Reaper Part 1So here is the saga of my nearly dropping dead.
It all began on a Monday morning. I got out of bed, dressed and went to sit on the couch and read until my toddler, The Girl, woke up. I felt a little uncomfortable and kept taking deep breaths thinking I could shake off the feeling. Around 9 am The Girl wakes up and as I am changing her and getting her ready for the day I feel short of breath. In my head I am thinking “…hmmmm that’s odd…” But no worries right??
I go into the kitchen to get my daughter her morning glass of milk. As I am standing there pouring milk I am short of breath and I start feeling this EXTREMELY painful squeezing in my chest. I start to panic thinking “Oh shit I am having a heart attack…” I am torn between calling 911 or waiting to see if it will pass. In addition to all this I am freaking out out because my 12 month old daughter is there looking at me and I have no idea what is going to happen to her if I keel over. Slowly the pain lessens and while I am struggling for breath I make my way over to the couch and sit down. As soon as I am sitting and relaxed I call my husband, StudHombre. Now by this time it’s around 10. He wants me to go to the ER but I am reluctant and said “hey I’ll just call a doctor” and see if it’s not something I can just take a pill for right? WRONG. I call and talk to a nurse and she says I need to get me to the ER immediately. Well hell.
So Stud Hombre comes home and asks how I am doing. I am sitting on the couch and so long as I stay there and don’t move I am fine. If I get up I start to gasp for air. Keep in mind that I am trying to take care of a toddler and not move at the same time. Exactly.
It is about noon and we venture to the ER. I say “hey I am short of breath and have chest pain”. Do they take me in to the ER? No. They make me sit there and fill out paper work and take my temp and blood pressure all casual like I am there for a physical. This is getting on Tony’s nerves because I needed to be seen by someone a.s.a.p. according to the nurse I talked to. I am, again, sitting so I feel ok. We get taken back to an ER room thingy which is pretty much just a curtained off area. Thus we can hear everything that is going on around us. The guy in the next curtained off area was having complications from his gastric bypass surgery. It was like listening to a radio drama.
“Mr. Johnson I have good new and bad news”
“What is it doc??”
“The bad news is we nicked your colon in surgery and it is seeping into other areas of your body creating infection…”
“Dear god NO!”
“The good news is that we have a specialist coming in and you WILL play the violin again!”
“Bless you Doctor!”
You get the idea. As for myself they first took me in to have a chest x-ray done and after I have the x-ray I am ordered not to get up or move. So we sit there waiting forever for x-ray results trying to entertain a toddler in the ER. Exactly.
They X-rays come back showing nothing so they want to do a cat scan of my lungs. They get me ready to do this but I have to first have about 12 vials of blood taken for tests (not including the 2 they took when I first got there). This is not an exaggerated number. Then they put an IV line in me because they have to give me some kind of crazy chemical that will make all the blood vessels in my lungs “light up”. StudHombre is asking questions like crazy and all they will really say is that they are looking to see if I have a blood clot in my lungs. They were pretty casual about it so I am thinking “hey must not be a big deal”.
I go in for the CAT scan and the chemical they gave me, via IV, they said would make me feel like I am getting warm from the inside out. What I felt was something like I peed my pants. I am laying as still as I can surrounded by this doughnut of a machine and embarrassed as hell at the thought of losing control of my bladder while 3 people in another room look at a light show put on my lungs. I was in hell. Come to find out I did not in fact pee my pants but rather experienced another common effect of this chemical. Why didn’t they mention that one before the test?!
Again more waiting for test results. FINALLY the doctor comes back and cheerfully says “You have a blood clot in your lungs we are going to have to admit you!”
Now realize I am a stay at home mom with no health insurance. The thought of the bill for the ER alone was enough to send me into a coma. So I tell her as plainly as I can without trying to let the panic show in my voice (to be honest I was near hysterical) “ I am a stay at home mom and I have no health insurance. I will do whatever you want me to do, take whatever medicine you want me to take, I will do ANYTHING so long as I can just go home.” Now up until the point they have been very casual and cheerful and relaxed as if I had nothing wrong with me. StudHombre is getting even more annoyed because they aren’t really telling us anything.
WE have by that time spent 6 HOURS in the ER. Waiting and trying to entertain a toddler. Exactly! That’s what we said.
StudHombre chases after the doctor to get more info and they call up to prepare me a room. StudHombre comes back after a few minutes with not much more info. He and I are making a list of who to call and trying to make arrangements for someone to watch the kids. The doctor comes and informs us that not only will I be staying in the hospital but I have my very own room in the ICU. That’s right the Intensive Care Unit.
To be continued......... 12月31日 20 things about me....
There ya have it! If you didn't learn something new about me it's beacause you are Short Fat Mama, Dr. Cara or StudHombre. LOL (they've known me for years! And as far as I know they still like me........) 12月30日 Talking about Top Ten Things I Would Love To Forget About 2005
Things I would love to forget about 2005 ( thanks day care mom!)
When your kids know you a little too well....Conversation with my son:
Son - What are we doing tomorrow?
Mom - Cleaning the house.
Son - Who's coming?
And there you have it. Talking about Time for Resolutions!
Time for Resolutions! 12月28日 A Recipe for "Play Dough"I made this for my kids this christmas. It's very soft and easy to clean up. I used gel food coloring and the colors came out great.
4 c. Flour
1 C. salt
4 c. Water
4 tbs. oil
1/2 c. Cream of Tartar
Mix all ingredients in a saucepan - cook stirring constantly over low/med heat. Heat until dough is formed and no longer sticky. Turn out of saucepan and knead. Divide dough and color with food coloring. Place in plastic baggies. I don't like to eat......Huzzah!!!
This is definitely something I can get behind!!! I must add my 2 cents!!
Things I don't like to eat:
Green Bell Peppers cooked - raw in salad I can sort of tolerate then but it you cook them? UGH I can't stand the smell or the texture. *shudders* Blech!
Canned Refried Beans - I added this because I like to give my best friend a hard time.
Oysters or any other fish that comes in that rectangular shaped can - Not only do they taste icky but I swear who ever eats them smells icky afterward. *wrinkles nose*
Now here is where most people think I am nuts:
Chocolate and peanut butter - this is the most VILE combination I can think of. Just the thought of it makes me nauseous. running a close second is - mint and chocolate..... ew.
Thanks Eric! 12月27日 Whose Undies?Today I caught my daughter wearing her dad's underpants. She had both legs through one leg hole of the boxer shorts and her arm through the opening in the front. She is holding them up. I tell her to put daddy's undies away. She drops them where she stands and is nekkid with a big smile.
I have it all on video.
I am still laughing. The Story of Milk and CheeseFor Susie!
Along time ago in a galaxy far away (college) I used to be a comic book fan. Now I wasn't a super hero comic book fan. I grew up reading Conan the Barbarian. (thanks dad.) I liked anything that was different.
I was hangin out with Dr. Cara in someones dorm room when in comes the fellow named Jeff. Jeff (Crom laughs at him from his mountain!) was also a comic book fan. He invited me to check out what he had.
There in his small collection was a comic called Milk and Cheese. Dairy Products gone BAD. They were full of hate and discontent. They drank and watched too much TV. They created much mayhem where ever they went.
It was the life of Cara and Aynde reflected in print!
Thus began my love affair with Milk and Cheese. I had all their comics. I read them often and as I was not a comic book nazi I didn't mind if they had a few wrinkles and bent corners.
The tattoo was a product of 2 things. A friend of mine was a budding tattoo artist who just opened her own shop. I thought I'd have her ink me up as a form of advertising. Plus I don't like getting tattooed by people I don't know personally.
She had done arns and legs and backs and butts - She had not yet done a head. So being as mine was already shaved (no I don't have pictures) I figured we'd put a tattoo on it. Don't you just LOVE impulse decisions??
I didn't want the typical gurlyfied rose or tribal design. No stinkin dolphins or cuddly characters. No stinkerbell (tphtphtphtph Short Fat Mama!).
So I went with - you got it - Milk and Cheese. I took an image of them and altered it a bit. Added the words "Fear Us Suckers!" and there ya have it.
No it didn't hurt. I don't shave my head anymore (though I am tempted daily). I still smile when I think about it.
Now I am a mild mannered stay at home mom who enjoys scrapbooking and trying new recipes. But underneath a full head of hair lies the evidence to the contrary. *smiles*
12月26日 Under Construction......CHRISTMAS OVER> TIME TO CHANGE THE BLOG!
I am re-arranging for the new year. tee hee!!
Is there anyway to get rid of categories you are no longer using? I am soooooo inept! 12月23日 Merry Christmas!I don't know if I'll get the chance to post until next week sooooo.......
Wishing you all a Very Merry Christmas!!
12月22日 The Mother Of All Surveys - Part 3What's your screen saver? A slide show of my collection of Bollywood Stars.
Thanks to Susie for the Survey! 12月21日 How An Unpaid Ticket Will Get You A Jailhouse TattooPart 2
I am taken into the women’s detention area. That is the nice way to say cell block. I am put into a cell with another woman. She has the bottom bunk. Yes there were bunks. Made from concrete and attached to the cell wall. That means I had the top bunk but it was 7 feet off the ground and I didn’t have a ladder and they didn’t provide one. Had I more athletic prowess I could have stepped on the bottom bunk and lifted myself up to the top but again…the girth factor. I had to sleep on the cell floor. My cell mate, whose sleep was unfortunately disturbed, greeted me and told me some basics. Put this here. Keep that there. She told me her name and why she was there. I forgot her name but she was up on federal drug charges. Distributing I believe. Lovely eh? She then asks me what I'm in for. Now imagine how ridiculous I sound when I say “oh, I drove without tail lights.” LOL Sure I told her the story of the unpaid ticket and she looked at me like I was 5 kinds of fool for not calling every person I know and getting the bail amount. She then assures me that I’ll be released in the morning. By the end of our little tete a tete it was three in the morning and I was exhausted. I did not sleep.
At 7 in the morning they bring you breakfast. Here is where the spork and cup come into play. You have your spork and your cup. You keep them in your cell with you. You do not leave them on your meal tray. If you do you won’t get it back. After you finish your meal you take your cup and spork and wash them in your cell. I am not making this up. You are not allowed to have real forks and spoon because again I might try to pick the lock of my cell with the tines of the fork or WORSE dig with my spoon all the way through several feet of concrete and rebar to FREEDOM!! So you get a spork. Only one. For the duration of your stay. Yep in the big house all you have is your pride and your spork.
Most of the female inmates sleep the morning away. Because it’s not exactly a cruise – entertainment is not provided. No TV. No Radio. If you are lucky you can check out a book from the “library” to read. I was awake, sleep deprived and bored. I was due in court at 9 am and was the only person awake except during breakfast. So I took a shower and tried to look as good as you can when you look like a criminal. Showering in jail is a lot like showering after gym in high school. No privacy. I didn’t have shampoo but they did give me one of those little bars of soap you get at a hotel.
After I was done the officer came to escort me to the courthouse. I was handcuffed for this. I assured then that I posed no flight risk and I would walk happily to my judgment. They I think feeling the teeniest bit sorry for me said that it was protocol and they didn’t have a choice. Well I’d like to think they felt sorry for me. They probably just thought I was dumber than a box of hair to land myself in jail over a broken tail light. I am escorted with 2 men from the men’s “detention area” and to the courthouse. The ONLY time you see people you know in court is when YOU are the one in trouble. This is the rule. So your mailman, your boyfriend’s sister, your pharmacist, and your pastor are all in the gallery for one reason or another at the time you are brought in. Also if you are an inmate they have a special row of seats for you right in the FRONT. So there I am in an orange jumpsuit and no bra waiting for the end of the world.
The Judge comes in. The bailiff says “all rise”. We stand up. The Judge sits. The bailiff says “be seated”. We sit down. He starts calling names and handing down punishment. I am thinking he will start with the people who have namby pamby charges and work his way up to the worst of offenders. Nope. My two fellow inmates get to go first.
My two fellow inmates are charged with drug possession and vandalism and there I am standing right next to them. Naturally everyone in the gallery is looking at me like their accomplice and NOW I am thinking maybe I should have let my mom bail me out. As only my fate would have it I am one of the LAST to be called. A lot of the people in the gallery have left so I am sure all the ones who knew me left with the wrong idea.
The judge does not feel sorry for me. He asks me how I plead to the charges against me. GOD HELP ME I DROVE WITHOUT THAT TAILLIGHT!!! GUILTY!!!!
He pretty much gives me a lecture on responsibility and gave me more fines. Include that with court costs and I owed more than the offense was worth. I was at least nearly a free woman. J I was taken again in handcuffs back to the “detention center” and told to gather my thing to be processed out. So I grabbed my blanket and my spork and headed for the door. I got my clothes back and my personal things. I was finally a free woman.
Outside I went with bruised wrists and bleary eyes straight to the workplace of Short Fat Mama. We went to luck to celebrate my freedom. She them took me to get my car and what do I find?
A 50 dollar ticket for parking on campus without a permit. 12月20日 How An Unpaid Ticket Will Get You A Jailhouse TattooPART 1:
Among the many adventures I’ve had I thought I’d tell the story of the one night I spent in jail. Yes you heard me right. I once spent a night in jail. And I seemed like such a nice girl. No I am a worldly woman with much life experience. I have *gasp* a criminal record. If the story weren’t so redikkerous I wouldn’t be able to show my face for the shame. It begins with – a broken tail light.
I was driving one of my favorite cars I have ever owned. An 86 red Toyota Celica. I was getting off work around midnight. I was driving on our local college campus when one of the campus police-pulled me over. No big deal I think. I have all my ducks in a row….. WRONG! I was being stopped because my tail light was out but in the course of their routine traffic stop I found out I had *dramatic pause* an unpaid ticket. Now this was not a HUGE ticket. About 186 bucks. Okay it was kinda big. I am not telling you what it was for. You’ll just have to wonder. Because I had this “unpaid ticket” a bench warrant was issued for my arrest. Lovely eh? That’s right folks. I was a wanted woman. So instead of getting another ticket I got “cuffed and stuffed” and taken to the station. This is not easy. First of all hand cuffs hurt. A lot. Second the backs of cop cars are not made for comfort or a person of my …..Shall we say…girth? Third, try getting in and out of said cop car with your hand bound behind your back. Remember the girth factor. After the scenic drive to the station I got “booked”. They took my picture and let me finger paint! Not so bad eh? The very nice police officers said if I paid the bail amount of one hundred and eighty six dollars I could go home. Interesting how that had that set up eh? OF COURSE…….. I didn’t have that kind of money. At least not on me. They said I could make one phone call and see if someone could “bail me out”. Well I have this whole “pride” thing that I tend to take a bit too seriously. I called my mom. I said “Ma, I have a little problem and I was wondering if you could go by the house and get your grandkid and make sure he gets to school on time.” She said “It’s one in the morning what is going on?” I said, “Ummmmm…….I am in jail *holds breath*” She says “WHAT?!?!...What is going on??” I tell my mom the story and naturally she offers to come and get me which if I had been a normal person I would have taker her up on it. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOO I am miss independent. I am miss “be responsible for your own actions”. I am the queen of making a bed and lying in it. I cut off my nose to spite my face. At this point they have to procure a cell for me and do the inmate check in thing. This consists of me removing all clothes including my bra. See I was wearing an under wire and they are prohibited. I guess they believe I could pick the lock on my cell with it or turn it into a shank and harm one of the other inmates. *shakes head* I am not making this up. Remember how mom used to tell you to always wear clean underwear in case you had an accident and had to see a doctor? Same holds true for jail. I then had to don the standard inmate attire. The dreaded orange jumpsuit. Oh even better yet it took them a while before they could find one my size. It was beyond embarrassing. I was then issued some slip on shoes, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a blanket, a heavy plastic cup and a spork, yes a spork, made of the same heavy plastic as the cup. I have NO IDEA what the hell is with the cup and the spork but I find out soon enough.
To be continued..........
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