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.

Overwhelmed

     I'm making costumes for five people and trying to finish them up by Friday, (ha not gonna happen), I need to clean the house for house guests and make it relatively fur free by Friday, (BIL is allergic to cats), I need to clean the costume stuff out of the spare room so Mom has somewhere to sleep tomorrow, (she is not allergic to cats), I have one more paper mache project, feathers to dye, sequins to buy, head pieces to make, get Mom to surgery, then there is the care of mom after her surgery, the daily change of bandages, groceries, blah, blah, blah.  It's going to kill me if I don't have those costumes ready for Mardi Gras, but then again, I'm not focusing on mom like I should.  I need an extra pair of hands, but they're not here yet.

Parade Day

     Today is parade day; basically I'll be out on the neutral ground with the family, extended family and any friend anyone wants to bring along.  This year the BIL parked his trailer on the route and his sister contributed a portable tent so the kids are going to be corralled in the trailer.  SIL lives on the route so we have a restroom and then of course everyone will bring food or drinks.  BIL will be doing the BBQ as usual.

     We are hoping to see "Elvis" and his family this year, an older gentleman who does his hair like Elvis.  He always sits next to our spot.  Last year "Elvis" didn't come out, and while we never have anything much to say to one another, we did miss not seeing them last year.  This particular parade brings the people who moved away after Katrina back for a visit so it's almost like old times.  Those of us who came back always keep our eyes peeled looking for familiar faces that we haven't seen in a year.

     So today while awesome as in it's a day filled with food, fun and friends, it's also kind of sad.  The gaps along the route where people once were, the one high school band when there used to be three, and a missing "Elvis" are sort of depressing and one of those many reminders that the most important thing we lost in Katrina was our people.  It's a weird feeling looking forwards to an event that both elates and saddens.  You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

EDIT:  Good news!  "Elvis" was in the building, (so to speak)!  Whoo hoo!

  

Lovin' Me a Smart Ass in Training

     The four year old niece got sick so I baby sat yesterday.  We had a blast.  There was the scintillating conversation where we discussed the merits of watching the Backyardigans to further one's dancing abilities.  Then we played several exciting games of Candy Land and the blue guy continuously heckled the yellow guy for getting stuck in the licorice spot which of course prompted the red guy to try and make nice between the two, (green just wanted to play the game and stay out of all the drama).  All of this was great, but the best part of the day was lunch.

     Trying to get a four year old kid to eat a decent lunch is hard enough in a house with a coca-cola cake sitting in full view on the counter, but throw in the chips, and a sandwich just isn't going to appeal.  As anyone knows one doesn't order a four year old to eat and think it's going to end well, you have to go at it like a poker player.  So there we are at the table, Blondie, (Clint Eastwood) and Doc Holiday, (Val Kilmer), (I'm Doc), looking at our hands and playing with the chips eyeing one another;(cue the theme music from The Good, The Bad), and...

     I open with, "Okay, I'll give you three chips for three bites of sandwich."  "No.  I want three chips for one bite of sandwich."  The child expertly pulls a straw from the juice box wrapper, slips it between her lips and chews on the end as if it were a stogie and squints at me hard.  I realize I'm not playing with any ordinary four year old so I try another tactic.  "Okay, I'll raise you one handful of chips for one quarter of the sandwich."  A few moments of silence and then, "Okay, I'm in."

     So we sit in companionable silence eating until we come down to the last chip.  Suddenly Blondie says, "I need more chips."  "But you didn't finish that quarter of your sandwich yet."  The straw shifts from the right side of her mouth over to the left with one flick of the tongue.  "But I'm almost finished so I should get more chips."  "You don't get any more chips until you finish another quarter of that sandwich."  Blondie knows how this poker game goes and that while Doc lives up to a bargain, she isn't going to cave in either.  She squints across the table working that straw back and forth between her lips, (she's got a juice box habit that's hard to kick), back and forth, back and forth.  Time seems to stand still.  Just when I think we are going to have to draw from under the table, she reaches down and snaps the single chip left in her plate in two.  "HA, SO WHAT?" she shouts.  "NOW I'VE GOT TWO CHIPS!"  I love me a smart ass.