Friday Update

Last night I had a fever (100F) so my dad pulled strings at the hospital this morning and got me in to see one of the other C&R surgeons (mine is out of town this week).

So Jerry drove me over there and the surgeon took a look at things.

My wound has completely opened up, which “happens sometimes,” and is probably the source of my discomfort. Gee, ya think?

But the infection looks to have cleared up, and the surgeon told me that I could stop taking the antibiotic that makes me so sick. I cried with joy right there. I’m to stay on the Cipro, though (no anthrax for me!)…

They took some blood to check my counts and took a urine sample to check for a UTI and my electrolyte levels.

And I puked in the bushes on the way out — and I DID take an antinausea pill this morning, so I don’t even want to postulate how I would have felt if I had not.

I did ask the scheduling nurse at checkout how long people hate their lives after surgery like this (she had tried to warn me, by calling it a “sphincter OH! plasty — because that’s how you’re gonna feel — ‘OH!'”… but I guess I just kind of dismissed it)… She said usually about three weeks. So here I am at 2 weeks and 1 day. She said, “You’re almost there. Just hang in there. You can do it.”

They’re all so nice over there. I told the nurse (with whom I’ve spoken several times this week already), “I’m going to need to send you a Christmas card.” She laughed.

At least I have NO issues with the surgeons or the office staff. They have all been so wonderful to me.

Of course, I say this prior to receiving any sort of bill. I hope my tune doesn’t change.

Sisterhood

Anjali apparently has noticed my pitifulness of late (since I’ve been beating you all over the head with it, I’m sorry), and sent out the Chi Omega Alarm (Hoot! Hoot! ? Maybe? Or curls of red and yellow ^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H^H cardinal and straw smoke? Whatever the method, the message carried). πŸ™‚ I’ve gotten emails and e-cards already. I love you girls, and I am reminded why I pledged a sorority in the first place, after thinking that I was anti-Greek before my mom insisted that I rush.

I had never felt comfortable being friends with women until I met my ChiO sisters. Never. And I now understand why it is so important to have women friends. I love you, ladies. Thanks for reading. πŸ™‚

And thank you, Anjali, for sending them here. You’re the bestest.

Ten

Ten years ago this morning, I went to my mom’s friend Claire’s house, because she really thought I needed to meet a particular guy. This particular guy had been her daughter’s boyfriend for more than four years, but they had parted ways because she’s a big city person and he is not, among other differences. They remained friends, so he remained in touch with her family.

Claire and I had talked at the St. Thomas Lobsterfest that year about what I wanted in a guy, and I described her ex-future-son-in-law, so she chose a Saturday morning garage sale outing as the venue for our introduction.

I remember wearing a natural-colored cotton fisherman’s sweater from Eddie Bauer, my favorite jeans, and my Bandolino boots that morning. I had gone to the Debutante Ball the night before with Chad-the-Ice-Rinser, so I had gotten about 2 hours of sleep, tops. I remember that Jerry was wearing a blue jacket, jeans, and I think a striped shirt. Not really sure.

We fell into conversation easily, and traded phone numbers and email addresses at the end of the outing. He left the day with a lamp, and I don’t think I bought anything that day.

Our first dates were October 29 that year, carving pumpkins together and then going to see the Tibetan Monks at UAH (ask us to do an imitation sometime. It was a strange evening). We maintained an email friendship for about a year while I finished being treated like crap by Chad-the-Ice-Rinser, and started dating for real in August 1996.

Happy Anniversary, Jerry. I love you! πŸ™‚ It’s hard to believe we met a decade ago. Wow. πŸ™‚