Ok, Rigs. I called. It’s not in yet, but it still might come in today. So I’ll call back this afternoon to make sure it didn’t come in today.
This is pissing me off. I already have the anxiety about starting treatment, why can’t they get their act together and get the meds here so I can start, dammit?
What the heck, I’m already in the nurse mode…
knock knock knock
Hey, welby! How ya doin? Can I get you anything??
I’m such a stinker…
He’s semi-dozing in front of the olympics. I know he’s not feeling well because I bought him some strawberry pop tarts - non generic - with frosting, and he barely acknowledged them. I expect once he’s back to himself, he’ll snarf 'em all down. I’m keeping track of when he can have his various meds - don’t need him OD-ing. So far, he’s sorta OK. I tried the ice pack that the physical therapist sent home with us, but he said it didn’t help at all. I’ll just go back there and hold his hand for a while - I don’t think I can do much else. Poor baby…
We’ve had N.O.T., N.O.E.C., and now N.O.N.. You know, I just hope no one starts talking about stiff fabric covers attached to the top of shoes.
Okay, everyone pay attention! It’s time for … AN ANNOUNCEMENT. Ready? Eyes front now …
EVERYONE WHO IS SICK OR INJURED IS TO GET BETTER POSTHASTE. IS THAT CLEAR?
We now return you to your regularly scheduled MMP.
It’s supposed to snow this weekend? I thought spring had already arrived. Weirdest damned weather I’ve seen in the twenty years I’ve lived down here.
My favourite part of insomnia is when you can’t sleep till dawn, and then wake up two hours later and can’t get back to sleep. That wasy yesterday. Last night I slept fine. Much sympathy to my fellow insomniacs.
Prayers and good thoughts continually being sent for the FairyChatFamily
Fluids and rest, welby. D’you want anything? Can I get you something? How’re you doing?!
I should get Mr. Lissar up, since he wants to go to noon class. Today I will go downtown and look for a particular type of bouillon powder that Nigella Lawson and Nigel Slater (who are my cooking gods) say is actually good enough to make soup with. Then I come come, clean the kitchen, and sweep, vacuum, and mop. After that, I have no plans except loafing.
I’m off for five days! Whee!
I’m sorry to hear FCD is still suffering. I hope things improve very quickly for him. I know it can’t be soon enough for him or you FCM.
All the rest of you sickies out there get better too.
I’m feeling back to about 98%, so I guess I’m okay.
There’s a big cold front moving in here. With wind chill temps will be in the single digits here, that’s damn cold for this part of the country. There really isn’t supposed to be any snow, so it’ll just be miserably cold with wind.
I been tasked as an investigation officer for a property loss. Oh, lucky me. :rolleyes: I have 18 calendar days to complete my investigation and recommendation. The problem is I can’t even get in contact with the very first person I need to speak with. Double :rolleyes:
It used to be only green suiters did this here, but they’re behind on these types of things, we can’t touch our health care providers because the patient load is too heavy, and the rest are stretched to the max or deployed. I don’t mind, but I’ve never done one of these before, so I don’t want to botch it. I guess I should be happy it’s not a 15-6 type of thing (and I AM), but blech, I don’t look forward to this. Ah well, I’m a big girl, I’ll suck it up and drive on. We all have to do crap we don’t like.
I have nothing exciting to report. I am mundaneness (is so a word) personified.
Okay, I was lazy and didn’t use preview. Please excuse my typos in the above post. I need to be better about that.
My big news is that I’ve changed the scented oil in the plug-in in my office. Now I’m surrounded by the lovely odor of green apple and honeysuckle. For the past month or so it’s been vanilla. Boy do I live an exciting life.
so I suppose now if someone were to speak of giving roses to a SO, they’d have to type “(but N.O.R.)” ?
YAY
Good luck.
Likewise, I guess I am to be N. O. metal structures intended for support.
Don’t see that coming up in convo any time soon…
FCM --of course you dont’ want him to OD! But there should be several hours between the doses, I would hope. He should NOT try to “tough it out”–once a severe pain level is achieved, it takes MORE meds to get it under control–and I mean more meds IV (usually). So, if it’s been the elasped time between doses–he can take another dose. That’s all I’m saying.
And I doze in front of the Olympics and I didn’t even ahve surgery. The Pop-Tart is worrisome, though. Put on your bustier and strut in front of him–if no response, call a code!*
I’m bored and have to do housework. The ChessMaster type guy said last night that I was “delightful” to play (I was going to say “with” but better change that to “against”). I smiled all the way home. It’s been a long time since a guy told me I was delightful at anything. So, mini-yay for me. I thanked him, btw.
*attempt at medical humor. Do not attempt at home. 
Even if it is a word, mundanity sounds cooler.
Which is exactly what I meant - I’m keeping track of what he takes when and I remind him when dose is due. So we’re in perfect agreement - quit arguing with me, dammit! 
But you’re also insightful - he worries about being a “wimp” and he’ll frequently try to play thru the pain - he is SUCH a guy!. What’s worrying me a bit more right now - he doesn’t want to eat or drink at all. He had a popsicle earlier (his throat is sore) and a sip of water to take his meds. That’s it. I’ve offered tea, water, soup, I’d go fetch ice cream, but he just doesn’t want anything. Not good, I’m thinking, but I can’t force feed him.
I’d make a terrible nurse - I have little patience for this kind of crap!
Obviously they are the guilty party. Write it up and submit it thatway. Problem solved (with the added bonus that you will never be handled another one of these investigations again.)
I had my wisdom teeth removed on the day of the opening ceremonies for the 2002 Winter Olympics. They gave me hydrocodone for painkillers, which makes me somewhat weepy. Katie Couric made me cry for no reason I could discern. But after an hour or so of listening to her describe everybody’s uniforms, I just burst into tears, and my friend made me shut off the tv and go to bed.
Roomie’s doing okay–she’s on the couch with her leg up, wrapped, and iced, and she’s just absolutely flabbergasted that I stayed home to be her bitch. In fact, I thanked her for hurting herself so I didn’t have to go to work. That’s awful in so many ways.
The locksmith has been and gone–two hundred dollars to replace one frickin’ deadbolt. Something tells me I just got robbed, but at least the door is fixed.
Now, off to hunt up my resume. Hopefully, it’s on this computer somewhere.
I am further impressed by Good Samaritan Hospital. I just got a call from someone there checking up on my poor sweetie, wanting to know how he’s managing and how his pain is and all that. I don’t recall ever getting a call from a hospital after surgery. As soon as I post this, I’m going to find their website and see if there’s someplace I can give muchos kudos. I just wish I’d remembered all the names of the people who helped him…
That is impressive FCM! Around here the main hospital would call you up, but it’d be to discuss paying your bill. If they could get away with it they’d have hired thugs to come collect in person.
We bought chocolate last night. I hear some of it calling out to me from home. I didn’t realize it’d get that lonely. Maybe I need to bring some of it into work tomorrow so it doesn’t get so lonely.
I have returned, and they didn’t have the stuff I wanted. I’ll have to order it online. It is wet and miserable and sleety outside. Today is an indoor day. I am trying to get Mr. Lissar to do the sweep/vacuum/mopping so I only have to clean the kitchen and cook. I want to spend today puttering. I like puttering.
I wish it was that simple. No, the guy I need to see is the guy that gives me further instructions and guidance.