Saturday, September 02, 2006

To Cleanse Your Palate

For those of you who have been getting sentimental/weepy at recent posts from me and/or Alex, I thought I'd offer you a little respite. A nice slice of sharp cheddar to to go with the apple pie, if you will.

For example: Yesterday, Alex happened to come into Walgreens to pick up prescriptions at the same time that Bella and I were in Walgreens picking up prescriptions (we kind of have a lot of prescriptions). I happened to be wearing actual polite-society-approved clothing (instead of, say, Razorback pajama pants , a Jermain Taylor t-shirt, and a pair of Crocs); an outfit consisting of a tangerine-colored polo shirt, avocado cotton capri pants, and a pair of jeweled, kitten-heeled mules with leather uppers and wooden soles and heels. There may even have been some remnants of makeup on my face left over from the morning's therapy appointment. (See there? THERAPY. It takes counseling to keep us married to each other.)

Now, HOURS prior to this, I had liberally applied some "Dr. Scholl's For Her Foot Softening Balm with shea butter" to my tragically dry and ashy feet. It seemed to have been absorbed. But after a few minutes' walking about, your feet tend to begin to perspire a little. And apparently, that process tends to re-activate the active ingredients in your "Dr. Scholl's For Her Foot Softening Balm with shea butter," and my feet got a little slippery.

As we were leaving the store, my left heel happened to just sliiiiide, quick as a wink, to the outside, off my shoe. To keep from falling, in the words of the great Helen Mirren, "a** over t**s" into the Walgreens dairy case and cracking my head open on the door of a refrigerator case, let's just say that: 1.) Some fancy footwork was required, and: 2.) the noise of WOODEN heels on retail-store tile is, well...LOUD AND ATTENTION-GETTING.

The point of this story is that my Dear Husband was standing right in front of me, and immediately turned to face me at the first sound of trouble. Did he step in to grab hold of and steady me? Did he reach out a hand to give me a more stable anchor to grasp onto than the Cheeto rack? Not exactly. What he DID, was, he stood there with a laughing smile on his face, WAITING TO SEE IF IT WOULD GET FUNNIER BEFORE IT WAS OVER.

Later, in the parking lot, he had some colorful metaphors about the sound of the hooves of cart horses on cobblestone streets...it was quite flattering. OH, the love.

BUT WAIT. That's not all! Last night, Alex went to bed early, really early, as in before 9:00 P.M., while I tossed and turned and fretted and hurt and worried, until finally, sometime after midnight, I woke him up and bade him speak with me a soothe my troubled mind. But he kept not wanting to wake up, and I had IMPORTANT things to discuss, such as my great (and yes, insane, gibbering, completely irrational) fear of the upcoming surgery--which is now going to happen IN THIS ACTUAL MONTH--and he groggily asked me EXACTLY the wrong question, "What could go wrong?"

Now, THIS is exactly what my sick mind was waiting for, and I began cataloging just a FRACTION of the VERY MANY things that could go wrong with this surgery, from my being accidentally colostomized, to my untimely death under anesthesia, because, you know, they basically KILL YOU during the anesthesia portion of the operation; did you know that? Your respiratory system? NOT WORKING ON ITS OWN, but relying on just some guy, or gal, some REGULAR PERSON, who might have had a really bad day that day--anything from having been kept awake the night before by a cranky baby, to having had a fender-bender on the way to work, to having JUST QUIT SMOKING...to keep it going. You see the possibilities? They're ENDLESS. I know that MY mind wanders while at work on the best of days.

Anyway, as I tried my best to convey to Loving Husband the gravity of this whole surgery situation, he reached out one large, sleep-wobbly hand, and used it to cover my whole face. After a second or two, I asked, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

His answer? "I'm hoping you're like a parakeet, and that you'll shut up and go to sleep if you can't see."

Yeah. That's true love, folks. So go ahead and curtail any mushfest on our account.

16 comments:

  1. I totally get your fear of anesthesiologists -- I mean, they have more power than GWB! They are an actual *medical specialty* for God's sake. My one experience was so awesome, though. I hate to tell you this but it was because I had a pregnancy scare when I didn't need it (#2 son had just entered Kindergarten and I saw some freedom on the horizon...) so decided to get my tubes tied pronto. It was great: I had a lovely sleep and woke up all bundled in warm blankets with lackeys serving me coffee and muffins while I got to watch the hustle and bustle of the recovery room all around me. Better than A/Ds! Then I got to go home and read trashy novels in bed all weekend while being waited on hand and foot even though I felt pretty good. So make sure you get the princess treatement for all that angst you'll be suffering.

    Now I need to actually spend some time *away* from your blog this weekend... yeesh ...

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  2. Oh Belinda, I love your writing.... but Alex is too much. Where did the crack about the parakeet come from? I just busted out laughing at the visual in my head. The worry about the surgery does no one (especially you) any good. Hit the sleeping pills to get you some well deserved rest before the surgery and make sure you get waited on by everyone during your recovery. You will be amazed at how much better you will feel even a month after your surgery. I sure did.

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  3. Okay, NOW I have tears from LAUGHING!!

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  4. Best. Line. Ever. I'm gonna have to try that one....

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  5. LMAO! God almighty, I love that guy!

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  6. What a hoot! One question: Did the hand over the face work?!!

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  7. No, the hand over the face didn't work. It was already pretty dark in the room and the theory behind putting a sheet over a parakeet cage is to trick it into thinking it is night. This wasn't going to work on Belinda and she is smart enought to know that it is already the middle of the night. Plus, I think if I left my fingers there any longer she might have bitten one of them completely off. She was THAT nervous and anxious. So, how did we finally work it out and get her to sleep? Well, there is more than sleeping pills to relax someone and make them sleepy when they are all worked up in the middle of the night. She was asleep about 30 minutes later.

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  8. That's right--it's called XANAX.

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  9. Parakeet?? Bwah hahahahaha!!

    I'm SO using that one. I get woken up at night ALL the time.

    Does Alex need royalties? :)

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  10. Okay, too funny. Nice to know you are not always sappy:o)

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  11. Love your post, Belinda? Are you sure we're not sisters? This sounds EXACTLY like my fears!! I can feel the panic...I'm there with ya.

    Only, my husband works as an RN in the recovery room, and didn't tell me until the DAY BEFORE MY SURGERY that they STOP YOUR BREATHING! And did you know they tape your eyelids shut, too? I was horrified.

    Xanax was (and still occasionally is) my best friend. Shuts the anxiety-riddled mind down a bit so you can sleep.

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  12. *chuckle* Nice. Very nice.

    "Alex: Well, there is more than sleeping pills to relax someone and make them sleepy when they are all worked up in the middle of the night...

    Belinda: That's right--it's called XANAX."

    *snort* But THAT'S comedy, right there. Alex, dude...please tell you were using your best stud-man voice in your head when you typed that one.

    Man, between you guys and Mocha's Coffee Porn, it's like Blog-Bodice-Rippers-R-Us! You all are going to warp my innocent librarian mind. ;-)

    And I'm serious about that email - I'm annoyingly stubborn (or is that stubbornly annoying?) enough to bug you both about it...every...single..day.

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  13. You and Alex are a hoot! God definitely knew what he was doing when He made you for one another. I hope this month goes quickly...AND that everything goes well with the house AND your surgery. What a load all that will take off of you. I hope we hear something about the appraisal this week.

    I am going to Chicago on Sept. 18th to the Diamond Headache Clinic and will be hospitalized for 7-13 days hoping for a miracle cure of my chronic pain. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we both were free of pain this time next month? We will need to go out and celebrate. I'll be praying for you.

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  14. LMAO! Reading the comments was nearly as funny as the post! At least your hubby woke up! Mine doesn't move, he just snores louder. Worthless.

    I think I need Xanax. Sounds good.

    : ) Sue

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