February 23, 2006
Okay, This Is Getting Ridiculous
This makes three times in as many years. Yes, I'm talking about Husband's latest trip to the E.R. (which is why I didn't post last Wednesday, or Friday).
Now, I thought that The Curse of Valentine's Day had been broken this year. But it turns out that, although we didn't recognize it at the time, Husband's symptoms started that evening at dinner, when he didn't finish his spaghetti. Husband loooooves spaghetti, so I thought that was weird. But since Husband so often displays weird behavior, I didn't think much of it.
The next morning, he woke up all cold and clammy with a headache and stomach ache. He's been working himself to death, so I figured it was just the flu and Mother Nature's way of forcing himself to spend a couple days in bed. (Ma Nature is a bitch that way. Not exactly the subtle type.)
I went to work; he stayed home.
About 9:00 on Wednesday, he called me -- winded -- and said my Dad was on his way to take him to the E.R.
He's like, "Yeah, I'm kinda worried. I've been pooping black. Since early this morning. I probably should have told you."
Um...
YA THINK?!?!
Still, I'm very proud of him going to the hospital of his own volition. So Dad took him to the E.R. (one of the many benefits of having retired parents in the same town).
Now, you know that I have the easiest job in the world and the coolest bosses in the world, and on any other day of the year, I could have just sauntered out the door, stopped for a McShake, run a few errands and dropped by the hospital. But nooOOOooo, not that day!
That day, I had to type some endorsements for Chick Boss that needed to be emailed IMMEDIATELY!!! Oh, and also? Head Boss' daugthers' book report needed to be typed.
But seriously, he wasn't dying, he wasn't in any pain at that point, my Dad was there, he was being taken care of, the doctors weren't very worried. What's the point of going to the E.R. to watch him nap and listen to other people puke and moan and whatever?
My family has always had a very strict rule -- "Don't panic until it's time to panic." And I just didn't think it was time to panic. Of course, everyone at work thought I was a monster for not going to babysit him. And frankly, I didn't really like what I was wearing that day, so I left work about lunch time.
By the time I got there, the doctors had pretty much ascertained that it was a bleeding ulcer, and they were going to keep him overnight and do an endoscopy. Husband was a little nervous about the thought of a camera going down his throat into his stomach, but I've had it done, and it's a piece of cake.
Mmmmm, caaaaaaaaaaaake.... arghlrghlrghlrghl...
Yeah, that anesthetic is weird. It's not like sleeping, where you're semi-aware of falling asleep and waking up. It's like you blink, and you're staring at a different ceiling going, "What room is this? What time is it? Did you already do the endoscopy? Is PoPoZau even a real word?"
Anyhoo, Husband was in a holding pattern -- waiting for a bed, waiting for an endoscopy -- so he dismissed me. Seriously, he was like, "Well. You can go now. Nothing to see here. Move along."
All he wanted was a nap. Which was pretty much all I wanted, too. Oh, sure, I had big plans for the rest of my day.
1. Take down Christmas tree.
2. Grocery shopping.
3. Hang curtains in basement.
4. Alphabetize my Silkstone Barbie Fashions.
But in the end, it was just...
1. Masturbate.
2. Nap.
3. Watch "The Simpsons."
4. Call and check on Husband.
In that order. It's not that I don't care about my husband; it's just that there wasn't anything bloggable going on.
Tomorrow, I'll finish the story, which will include a topic I have never yet talked about on this blog. A person, actually. Someone I have always thought it was best not to blog about -- and I'm still right about that -- but it's just too nuts not to share, so I'm breakin' all the rules! And then? I'm going swimming right after lunch! Craziness tomorrow, chilluns! Tune in!
Comments
I've been reading for a while and this latest entry just made me I dunno, happy? So I thought I'd let you know that I love to read your blog.
...and every so often I go back and read your summaries of the Strawberry Shortcake dollies.
Posted by: Jenni at February 23, 2006 09:48 PM
DO NOT POST
I don't want anyone to know that I thought this one was real good....but I did.
Hope husband has recovered from his GI bleed. When I visit, I'll bring the salsa!
Posted by: matt at February 23, 2006 10:00 PM
Bleeding ulcers suck. I hope he gets through this okay. Could mean a major change in diet, and no man wants that.
On a lighter note, you should remember that masturbation is always blog-worthy.
Posted by: Uncle Twitchy at February 24, 2006 05:31 AM
Did you say you just took down your Christmas tree? In February? Why not just leave it up for next year?
Posted by: Billi at February 24, 2006 11:16 AM
Hey, off Wenchie's back about the Christmas tree! Mine just came down a few days ago too. *ducks flying missile*
And Most Beloved Pirate Wench: I suppose that the only thing I can say in a comment to a post where you mentioned ON A LIST that you masturbated is....
VAGINA.
Then again, I suppose I could also say...oh, I dunno, CLITORIS!!!
Yeah!!
CLITORIS!!!! CLITORIS!!!! CLITORIS!!!!!!
(ok, I'll shaddup now.)
Posted by: Scarlett Cyn at February 27, 2006 12:20 AM
Also, Please let hubby know that I hope he'll be feeling ready to shake his grass skirt and belt out a few tunes in no time! Well, that and the fact that I'm sending a big hug for him too! (Don't be jealous, you get KISSES!)*SMOOOOOOOOOOCH*
Posted by: Scarlett Cyn at February 27, 2006 03:39 AM
Sugar, if you need to put Masturbate on a LIST, it's time you started doing it more often....just sayin'
Posted by: Queen of Ass at February 27, 2006 11:20 AM