My Bedside Manner Could Use Some Work

     "You're 81 and I think it's a good idea that we do a cardiac check up on you," said Dr. L.  That was two months ago and ever since the stress test has been scheduled all I've been hearing from my mother is how she doesn't want to do it, how it really isn't necessary, and of course how scared she is of doing it.  I explained how I went with my father in law for his and it really wasn't anything to be concerned about.  It's really a couple of shots and siting still for some monitors.  Of course there was no convincing her that it was going to be fine.  Yesterday she asked me to Google how many, "old folks were outright killed by this test."

     So today was the big day.  I wore my Dorothy shoes in honor of her wishing to be back home in front of the TV.  She wasn't impressed.  When they gave her the drug for the nuclear stress test, I told her not to go towards the light.  She wasn't impressed.  When they told her they were going to give her the drug for the cardiac stress test, I said I could stress her out without the drugs; by now sick of my picking, she agreed.  I know I'm terrible, but it's how I deal with stress.  Hell, you should have seen me after Katrina, I found a dead squirrel plastered to the window, named him Rocky and made him my, "little buddy," but I digress...

     What impressed Mom was when the male nurse smacked me on my rear end, accidently.  She actually didn't see it, but came in on the conversation afterwards.  I felt the smack and immediately knew what had happened.  He turned to walk away and his hand swung back making full and firm contact with my left buttock.  Poor guy was six shades of maroon and apologizing all over the place even before I could turn around.  I gave him a stern look and said, "you now owe me a dinner and a movie for that; pick me up at seven thirty."  Even I couldn't keep a straight face after that one.  To his credit he came back with something along the line of having gotten to know me better.  I can say that had Mom leaving the place smiling.

Been A While

     It's been a while since I've written anything so I thought I'd pop in.  I used to do the blog thing sort of regularly after Katrina, but back then I had plenty to write about, now days not so much.  As usual, the world here stops for Mardi Gras.  I remember a few years before the storm we had a new superintendent for the public school, the guy was from somewhere in the Northeast.  I remember the combination of amusement and outrage when he announced that giving the kids time off from school for Mardi Gras was a waste of time and he was going to put it to a stop.  The poor thing had no idea what he was doing.  Fast forward to his first Mardi Gras where of course the local press found him on the parade route, covered in beads grinning from ear to ear and saying how foolish he had been.

     Anyways, for the past few weeks I've been working on shrimp costumes, dealing with mom, her surgeries, her doctors, and her spring gardening, then there is my own spring gardening and the building of a patio cover, DIY of course.  The thing is far from finished, but I'll bet the cats are going to love having the shade and the famous lawn furniture to sleep on, (we couldn't agree on a sofa and so we lived on the lawn furniture for a few years).

     One day this blog will be more organized, put together, yada, yada, yada.  Today is not that day.  TTFN

Busy

Mardi Gras is almost upon us and it's gotten really hectic.  It's 2:20 AM and I'm just tryin' to slap this together.  Met big sister's friend for lunch @ Mandina's, then went to Pizza place owned by nice's friend, caught the super Krewes with a cajun and the family of a well known local politician.  We all walked away injured.  Got stuck in traffic with cab and started rapping about the idiots driving about.  Some smart ass thought he'd take the parking lane and ended up getting in a wreck.  Nite nite, or dodo.

Nerf Ball and Pig Headed

     After fourteen hours of fun in the hospital I am finally home.  Today was Mom's surgery.  I knew they were going to take out a nice chunk of her face, but what I wasn't expecting was the ping pong sized yellow Nerf Ball thingie that was sewn onto her face.  The shaved section of hair also added that extra little something to the whole image which of course made me say, "WHOA, I'd better not let on how weird and freaky this looks."

     Boy is she going to be freaked out when she sees this thing sticking out of her face.  What happened to the good old days when they slapped a bandage on top of a wound so you couldn't see it?  Perhaps this is some sort of heart test that her doctors have come up with, give her the mirror and start up that EKG.  If she doesn't have a heart attack when she sees this we'll give her a clean bill of health.

     The other thing is that the doctor did a skin graft.  Where the skin came from I don't know.  We didn't see any spots where they took it off of Mom, so was it donated or was it pig skin, (which was an option).  If it was pig skin that means we can call her pig headed.  She was pig headed today.  She refused to let them move her to the bed in her room, she insisted on getting off the gurney and walking into the room.    She was heaving, gagging, limping, her paper gown torn exposing her backside to the world, and her face was a lovely shade of grey, but of course we did it her way.  Of course I being the kind of person I am, I had to tell her, "I told you so," as she barfed into the little bowl.  I have no problem telling anyone, "I told you so," I eat that stuff up.  It's one of my few real joys in life, well that, cats, oysters, books and cake.