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  • Please Don't Copy.
    I really didn't want to put a copyright thing on my site. It seemed a little....I don't know. But it's been brought to my attention I need to remind people to maybe think their own thoughts.

2008.11.17

My Body Is Not Bionic.

I should have bought myself a silk robe with a matching silk eye mask for this period of recovery I'm going through. What with Logan bringing me food and medication on a tray all last week I could have really lived the part of Joan Crawford. The refried beans my friend Laura brought over and the slurpees my friend Jodi brought me along with the milkshake my friend Leslie brought me would have been a little incongruous with the glamorous convalescing but still.

Here's what I think about my tonsillectomy. I think you all had me (rightfully) scared shitless about the recovery. If you're here because you googled "Tonsillectomy How Bad Can It Be?" I think you should go and read the comments on this post. If you're still willing to get them removed, that means they've overstayed their welcome and should come out.

Words like "The worst pain...." "Months of recovery...." "Lost 20 pounds...." came up over and over and I still couldn't face another month of waking up and fearing the strep was back. Or that I was going to be down for the count yet again with a terrible sore throat.

I would not call this the worst pain I've ever been in. Then again my delivery and recovery from Madison's birth was particularly hellish. So hellish that even my c-section with Max was a walk in a field of daisies. I took the pain medication after that for just 3 days and was fine (with small annoying things like not being able to get out of bed without rolling off the side and then standing up).

I will say this probably the most annoying pain I've been in.

When I came home after the event and didn't feel like writhing and moaning, all before I'd even taken any pain medication, I thought it would only get better from there. It didn't really get worse, as some predicted it would. (If you don't count the first night where I laid on the bathroom floor alternately throwing up, sweating and praying for death) (This is a reaction I have to anesthesia...I did the same thing after my c-section). Aside from this, it never got worse. It just remained the same.

Usually when I get one of my many sore throats, the first day is intolerable, the second and third day feels like someone's punched me in the throat and by the fourth day I'm like new.

This surgery left me feeling punched in the throat, so I thought I'd feel punched in the throat for a day or two and then be getting slowly better. Instead I feel like I'm still being punched in the throat even six days later and I'm more than tired of it.

I'm also a little disappointed in myself. You see, I consider myself a Champion Sleeper, a Professional if you will. I thought if I just stayed in bed and didn't push myself too hard and slept 12-18 hours a day, my body would show it's Bionic Capabilities and fix me.

My body is not bionic. I have to accept that. But maybe if I just take one more nap I'll wake up and be better.

2008.11.14

Other Places: The Mighty Edition

Over at Mighty Junior we've been pulling together gift guides for every age. So far we have One Year Olds, Two Year Olds and we recently came up with some great gifts for Three Year Olds.

Threeguide

We've also started our Holiday Guides with Kids' Gifts Under $30.

Under30

Finally, at Mighty Haus, we closed out the Thanksgiving At Your Haus and it's got me all excited to host a big Thanksgiving bash. If only all our friends would ditch their "family" obligations

2008.11.13

Other Places: Target Christmas Wrapped

I am writing a few posts for Target's Christmas Wrapped guide this season.

I wrote about our Holiday Progressive last year after we hosted, but for this post I worked out more of the details on setting a great big table on the cheap. You can read it here.

I just volunteered to host this year's progressive again. I can't understand how we'd live in this awesome house and not invite as many over. Watch for next year's post about hosting a big holiday party in 1100 square feet. (That's a hint for those of you playing along at home.)

2008.11.12

The Reign Of Terror Is Over. Sort Of.

After a very long weekend of fitting in everything we might want to do in the next 2 weeks to 3 years (the various amounts of recovery time I've been told I'll need), I went to the doctor at 5:50am to end the reign of terror my tonsils have held me in for my entire life.

It's funny when people tell me they're afraid of Barack Obama as a president. I've had something far worse lingering in the back of my throat for my entire life. A tonsil that swells and gets infected at an alarming rate making it next to impossible to live a normal life. Nothing could be worse. Just ask my family who has endured all these strep infections with me.

Yesterday I got home and thought to myself, "Wow, this is nothing compared to the last glass swallowing strep infection I had!"

And there was the internet to burst my bubble, "Oh no no no.....it will get worse on day 2,3 and 4. That's when you'll want to hang yourself in a fit of desperation. Also, locusts."

I did feel good almost the entire day yesterday. I sucked on ice cubes, worked a little, napped, took my pain medication.

Then at 5pm all hell broke loose and there was throwing up and other kinds of unimaginable pain. My tonsils just weren't ready to give it up. So I laid on the bathroom floor in a pool of sweat and tried to will myself to lose conciousness. Throwing up just after your throat's been sliced up, well, it's not on the list of pleasant ways to spend an evening.

Or, if you're wondering, not a nice way to spend the entire night.

But now it's day time and I'm up and typing this and have only a mild stomach ache. So for now, Tonsils, I am beating you. And I will continue to beat you. Because you suck.

Does anyone have any good dvd recommendations? Because this is going to be a long three year recovery.

2008.11.07

I'm still more awkward than a camera in the ass.

Yesterday Logan had to go in for his first Colon cancer screening. His dad had colon cancer in his late forties, so it's important for him to get checked out. Logan remembers going to the hospital before his prom (one of the 5 he went to....oh me? I went to exactly zero proms), so his dad could see him and his brother. I can't imagine what life was like for his family then. Actually I can and the thought of going through that with Logan is unbearable.

So camera in the ass it is!

My mom had breast cancer, so the nice thing for me is I can just walk around feeling myself up 24/7 to watch for lumps (with the occasional mammogram) and I'm thoroughly screened. Logan's screening is a little less pleasant.

I've never seen Logan in a hospital bed. I've taken up all the hospital time in this family, Logan got all the proms and I get all the hospitals. But seeing him there with an oxygen mask on his face, I was not prepared for the feeling like I couldn't breathe. Even though I knew he was just a sleeping off the anesthesia and this was a no big deal type of procedure. Well no big deal if you like having cameras in your bottom.

After a few minutes he started to wake up and I'm used to a Logan who can get very disoriented while he's sleeping. I'm sure I've told this story before and I'm sure Logan's LOVED hearing it every time I tell it.

One night I woke up and Logan was on his hands and knees in the bed, looking around frantically. I said, "Honey, what are you doing?" (As one might do in that sort of situation.) And he looked at me, shocked and said, "Oh my God, what are you doing up here?"

He'd been dreaming he was crawling along the edge of a building.

Coming out of sedation was a lot less entertaining than that. He kept saying, "Should I have air? Is air normal?"

He was referring to the air in his body from the test and needing to, as the common man would say, fart. Suddenly Logan was shy about farting.

The next half an hour was spent trying to get the "Air" out of his body. I tried not to laugh, but you guys, the entire recovery room was a chorus of people trying to get the "Air" out of their bodies. I suddenly thought being the recovery nurse in the Colo-Rectal department would be insanely hilarious.

He had one polyp they found and the doctor saw the frantic collecting of everything I know about Polyps in my brain and assured me it was very small, "Like a piece of skin dressed up for Halloween as a polyp! A Junior Polyp!"

It hadn't occurred to me that they'd find anything but a really nice looking colon, as far as they go. The word Polyp, even Junior Polyp was not part of my plan for this. I'm certain it's nothing, really even if it's precancerous after the biopsy it only means Logan has to go back every three years instead of five.

Which, according to Logan is almost worse than just having the entire colon removed.

At breakfast after the procedure we were talking about how awful it was. How he felt really weird about everything. I can imagine it's pretty unpleasant to have a camera in a place generally marked for Exit Only. But then I reminded him about Maddie's birth.

How her heart rate kept dropping and they were trying to find a new position for me so the heart rate would go back to normal. I reminded him of the time I ended up leaning into a bean bag chair on my hospital bed, on all fours....in a hospital gown...with my ass hanging out for the 20 or so doctors and nurses who had gathered in case the situation became an emergency.

At least he was asleep when he was in that position. I got to live it.

2008.11.06

It happened!

This week has flown past me. Monday I spent the day in Chicago walking around endlessly. I have no skill at catching cabs. I think I'm afraid of being ignored so I only just barely raise my hand to get the cab's attention. Cabbies don't pick up on subtlety.

Then I took the 6pm train back to Detroit and it was a train straight through hell. I sat next to a man who must have had a closed head injury. He wouldn't stop talking (about what snacks he bought at the drugstore) and he didn't want to part with his suitcase so he kept it on the floor between us leaving us with no leg room.

There were about 8 kids on this train. Four of them boarded the train and their mother made an announcement, "My Kids Have Been On A Train For The Last Four Days. I Apologize Now!"

Then they sat around screaming. For the first 4 hours of the trip.

I can imagine how awful it was for everyone involved. I can imagine it because I gnawed my tongue off while trying to have empathy for them.

Once those kids got quiet, I realized another kid at the front of the train was losing his shit. He continued to lose his shit for the rest of the trip. He was so over tired, he was literally falling down as he tried to run around the train. His parents didn't speak english but I really wanted to tell them to buy Benadryl next time they take a train with an 18 month old that doesn't end until 1:30 in the morning.

Verdict: Never taking the train again.

On the bright side I had a pleasant day in Chicago having lunch with Velveeta's people and then sitting in Millenium Park reading a magazine and listening to the Obama rally sound checks.

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In past elections I've been surrounded by people who think about things a lot like I do. So that when things like a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage passed in Michigan a few years back I was completely knocked on my ass. I literally had no idea it would pass, I didn't believe it could.

During this election all of my friends had McCain signs in their yards (except one) and I was more than aware people didn't believe the same things I do. I watched videos and read the Twitter Election feed and every day felt like I was going to throw up.

I was worried the fear campaign John McCain and Sarah Palin were running was working. I worried our country's veiled racism would ruin Barack Obama's ability to win the presidency.

When it happened Tuesday I was at a bar with Obama campaign volunteers. We counted down to the closing of the later polls and just like that he did it. And though it was shocking as I stood there watching everyone celebrate, it also felt like it couldn't have gone any other way.

I love this country. I believe we all love this country. I think we all have the same end goal, at least when dealing with non-social issues. We want to be safe, we want to prosper, we want our country to be great.

This is going to be okay.

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