My Feelings Regarding Hospitalization (As Promised)


I don’t find hospitals enjoyable. I could leave it at that, and have one of the shortest blog entries ever! But…here goes:

Hospitals are rumored to be places of healing–a place to fix the broken and heal the infirm.  Other than the sometimes really great drugs (and the surgeries that they frown on you taking the do-it-yourself approach at home), I will do ANYTHING to stay out of the hospital. I’ve been in the hospital A LOT in my life. First, as a frequent visitor to my Mom–not only admitted, but she also worked in a hospital, and in lieu of day care, I often went to work with her (typically watching TV in an empty patient room).  Then, as a patient.  Did I say a lot?

Embarrassing, humiliating things often happen to me in the hospital. As part of the reality of my crappy health, I experience bowel obstructions. During one such hospitalization, my system decided to  *ahem* fix the situation itself on the gurney during an abdominal x-ray…in front of a gorgeous male tech with porcelain skin, black hair, and sparkly green eyes. Yep.  You pictured that correctly. I involuntarily soiled myself in front of not just a witness, but a really, really good looking one. Hubbs says it serves me right for lusting after someone who was not my husband, haha!

Sleep is a near impossibility for me in a hospital.  IF I do drift off, I get rousted at 3 am for blood draws (and I have poor veins) or vital signs checks, or get woken up to take a pain or (once) a sleeping pill! Obviously, I’m feeling pain free enough to sleep (leave me alone!) and don’t need a sleeping pill to go to sleep if I’m already asleep (leave me alone!).  

Using the bathroom (or not being allowed to without getting an adult). For me, there is usually the catheter situation OR the requirement to get a nurse before taking myself to the bathroom; this typically results in me trying not to mess/pee the bed due to nurses being chronically short handed (I do appreciate the over all high quality of work from most nurses I have encountered–but hospitals do seem to run those poor folks ragged).
When I’m ill enough to actually willingly go to the hospital, it often means some kind of surgery or painful procedure is on the agenda, or will be.  Hospitals are breeding grounds for staph infections. I’m not a hypochondriac, but that possibility terrifies me! Once you have staph, it can stay in your system forever, like a ticking time bomb…

TV.  There’s only so much Law and Order a person can tolerate, not to mention all of the food commercials when on a liquid diet. Blargh.  I know people usually complain about hospital food.  I’m not going to do that. I live in a foodie town and St. Vinny’s has reportedly some of the best cuisine in a hospital on the West Coast. When I’ve been allowed to eat, I’ve actually enjoyed my meals there. 

…and the superficial reasons? I get bored. I often don’t feel like reading, coloring, doing puzzles, etc…  (This last time, I had Netflix on my iPad.  Thank goodness!).  My friends and family get to see me in a hospital gown, no bra, hair often snarled, with no makeup (I’m an eyeliner and lipstick girl…but even though I don’t wear tons of makeup, I at least want these two things before seeing people).  Also, I get to see loved ones sad or frustrated because I’m in the hospital. That’s stressful for everyone!  

Anyway, finally feeling better today.  Another hospitalization averted! I’m going to end the blog now so that I can go use the bathroom…WITHOUT an adult!  Living life on the wild side, Baby!  


Marathon Doc Visits…Why Do I Do That to Myself?!


(Meme generated by someone else, somewhere else, sometime else using Kitty and Red from “That 70’s Show.” There. Credit given–as good as it’ll get. Now, move along…)

Three Doctors, One Day (not to be confused with the infamous, disgusting Two Girls, One Cup video.  Don’t know about it?! Consider yourself lucky and for Pete’s sake DO NOT Google it! If you do, you have only yourself to blame…I warned you!)


Appointment 1. Therapist appointment first thing. Good talk with a nice Christian lady whom typically forgets I’m agnostic.  But I’m unconcerned and it totally doesn’t matter either way…the thought of which is ironically the cornerstone of agnosticism.  But, she has good ideas, and doesn’t flinch too badly when I accidentally drop the F word. A lot. Hey–no judgey–YOU! Feelings are hard and stuff… Besides, I know about your own potty mouth! Keep it up, and I’m telling your Mother!  Anyway, the therapist is super sweet, and reminds me quite a bit of my Step-Grandmother–well known in social circles in the south (self-reported) as one of the Van Pelts (the Louisiana Van Pelts, not those trashy Texas Van Pelts <my apologies to the Texas Van Pelts–she was a bit wacky and I don’t know you! I’m sure you are perfectly lovely!> ).  Anyway, I still feel kinda bad for convincing Grandma that George Michael’s Faith Album (errr…cassette?!) was Christian music so that she would buy it for me.  Kinda bad…  I can still hear her singing off key to this day (she overheard the chorus of the title song) : “You gotta have faith, faith, faith…!” <giggle-snorts>  Okay…that shit’s still funny!  If there is a Hell, I definitely greased the skids for myself with that one.  

Appointment 2. Wellness check. Been sick. Pleurisy.  Didn’t go well. No work for me next two days. *grumbles* I don’t wanna talk about it. <pouts> I have lots of sedentary projects and tasks to complete.  Lots. And the furry toddler to entertain. He has sooooo much energy! He actually rebounded off of me all evening–being a fuzzy jerk because no one was paying attention to the dog! It’s not wise to piss on the goodwill of the lady who mixes cottage cheese into your food, Buddy…not wise at all! Here’s a picture of the hirsute tyrant:

Don’t let his adorable mug fool you. That piggy he’s holding now sleeps with the fishes!

After that appointment, got to spend quality time with Sister Mistress (Mistress Sister?!  Sounds like a Dom name…I’ll have to ask her for the safe word), eat lunch, and be on hold with a bureaucratic agency for an hour before giving up to try again tomorrow.  (Their music wasn’t even something you could dance to.  Yucky ear worm nonsense. Boooo!) 

Appointment 3: acupuncture.  I LOVE my accupuncturist/naturopath! She was my default therapist before I had one. She is a crafter/creator like myself (she knits exquisite things, I make jewelry). AND she’s done more for my health than any other doctor (except for a brief period of back to back cancellations due to her family needs–but hey, we are all human–and she was needed). She’s been willing to coordinate with my other doctors and specialists,  and has been a great advocate and inspiration to me towards self-empowerment.  She’s moving to the East Coast! I have one more appointment with her. Tears were shed on the drive home. (Which due to high blood pressure and low O2 sats throughout the day, made hospitalization seem like more of a possibility than driving home and sleeping in my own bed.  BUT…the high number went down and the low number came up, so…there ya go! I’ll tell you later how much I despise hospital stays.)

Rush hour traffic then ahhhh! Home! To the loving arms of the Hubbs! Home to tostadas and cold beverages! Home to the stare down at dinner by the fuzzmonster dog. Sigh…life IS good!

Shiny Happy Pain Diva Intro…First Day of (Blog) School


First day of school. That’s what this first attempt at blogging feels like.  Worst yet? It’s MIDDLE SCHOOL.  Does my hair look ok? Do I have something in my teeth? Does my breath stink? Is my dress fashionable enough? <oh gawd, please tell me that my dress isn’t tucked into my underwear!!!>. Do I SMELL BAD?!  Did the cute guy I have a crush on just kiss that girl? *faints*

Ok…it’s ok…pulling my shit together <dusts self off, adjusts tiara>. Let’s do this thang!

Who am I? Good freaking question…I don’t fully have the answer to that, but I’ll tell you what I know.  I’m a wife to a supportive, loving, amazing man (who will argue with me about the amazing part, so I say “hush! You are amazing…because I said so!”), Mom to an adult Son, a nearly adult Son (I really wanted to say “Baby Adult,” but refrained–aren’t you proud of me, Son?) and to a furry toddler (dog). I’m a Sister to several fine women and a couple of men–most hand picked by me, and friend/family member to many. My Chosen Sister, the divine mistress of all that is zombie related, dark, or sinister, along with the Hubbs keep me (relatively) sane–or at least chuckling to myself down the trail to the sanitarium.

I work in a field I love (helping people as a social worker–I like to refer to myself as Glenda the Good Witch of the Social Work World, but many might just agree with the witch part).  My livelihood may be in jeopardy some day due to frequent absences for treatment of multiple chronic illnesses, some of them life threatening. This crushes my heart, as this was truly my dream job.

I live with pain, fatigue, and anxiety daily <that’s why humor is important–especially my friends “Sarcasm” and his close cousin “Self-Deprecation”>. My current battle is with depression–well, that AND my crappy immune system decided I would enjoy a two week bout of pleurisy (Google it–it’s a bag o fun!), as well as a pneumonia-like respiratory infection paired with a delightful bronchitis-esque hacking cough).  Who wouldn’t be a teensy bit depressed with all that?! I’m surprised I’m not sitting in a rubber room, reciting the Jabberwocky,  trying to peel my own skin off like an orange, and attempting to bite my own ear off <note to self: my straight jacket has to be jewel and/or sequin encrusted–for future reference to loved ones>.  (Kudos to Liv, the original ear-biter.)

*sigh* Son’s alarm went off twice. Got to go roust him and grab another hour of snuggle time with the Hubbs before my 9 am doc appt (I have THREE doc visits today…groan…one of which will determine if I’m released for work yet or not).  Wish me luck! <lottery-winning type of luck is most appreciated>