Thursday, July 29, 2010

Creating Frankenankle

Yes, that is what I nicknamed my poor pathetic ankle- for those that didn't catch on. Because of the special hardware that is now helping hold it together.

Surgery Monday went really well. Of course this blog is delayed because I am not very mobile and can't always get on my computer. Kirby made it so I can access it, but I can't sit very comfortable for very long so my time is limited.

ANYHOO- because of the risk of complications I had to be awake for my surgery. Pretty scary. I asked more than once if I could have headphones... I wanted to be sure I didn't hear any "sounds" Like surgery sounds. I'm a big wimp.

BTW- for the record... I hate needles. You get poked a lot before you have surgery.

My anesthesiologist was great! He gave me a sedative- or as the nurse called it: "I don't care medicine" in my IV. I had a spinal. It was a much better experience than when I had Gwyneth. I felt the stinging shot from the numbing medicine, but don't remember the actual spinal needle like I do with her. In fact I remember part way through the surgery if they were going to get started. My legs felt really warm and cozy- no ache. I didn't have to pee as bad as I did before. So I WAS awake, but I was totally out of it. I remember talking around me, but couldn't tell you what was said. I remember looking up and around and seeing people and lights... thinking this didn't look like an operating room. I napped through most of it. I didn't get my headphones, but being as incoherent as I was- that was ok!

When they told me it was over I kept asking about my baby. I wasn't satisfied until the nurse came in and I could hear the little heartbeat myself! I had some feelings in my hands and I put them on my belly and felt him move that way before I could actually feel him move on the inside. It was weird- feeling my own baby move just by my hands and not on the inside. Baby was great and not affected much. I was pretty out for a long time.

They gave me morphine when the spinal wore off. The ride home was the most painful thing I ever had to endure. My toes were purple. It was all I could do to get home and get my leg up...

Good news was they only had to do one side of my ankle with plate and screws. I don't remember why... but apparently the way I broke it the other side will heal okay without the hardware holding it together.

So anyway that is the jist of my surgery experience. I really really missed the kids... I can't wait to see them. Okay before I get all sappy and teary eyed like my pregnant self is I'd better finish this up.

Next time we'll discuss crutches and how bad they suck, and how bad it would suck with out them. We have a love hate relationship. Especially my bruised armpits and hands...

Tuesday, July 27, 2010


Where to even begin? I'm sitting here laid up with my frakenankle. Yup, that is what I have.

So Sunday I was going to visit some family that live out of town. I had my purse, pillow (for my belly), and phone. I started my car and saw one of out neighbors unloading their trunk and wondered if I locked the door. I never check our door. But for whatever reason compelled me to do so would be the decision that now has me laid up.

So anyway I don't know exactly how it happened. I must have had my foot on the edge of the walk and rocks or something. Either way- I lost my footing. I stumbled into the rocks to balance myself on the side of the house. This was probably a matter of seconds... I remember thinking 'I'm glad no one is out to see me walk afool.' Then before I knew it I realized there was no avoiding going down. As instinct- I made sure to avoid hitting my belly when I fell. I heard this distinctive "POP pop pop" and thought 'I broke it!' Then I thought, 'no it was the rocks hitting the side of the house.' My ankle did hurt pretty bad. I knew I at least sprained it. So before I started to get up I did a once over on the belly and felt the baby. 'Okay, I didn't land on my belly...' My foot definitely hurt. I was swollen already and figured I sprained it. I would hobble to my car, turn off the engine, and go back inside and put my feet up. Oh gosh it hurt so bad! I tried to get up and I couldn't move it. I looked down and it looked funny.

I called for help a couple times, feebly hoping the neighbor on the other side of me would hear, but no one heard me. I was starting to freak out a little as I was in direct sun on the hot walk with my car running unable to move. Thank God I had my phone! I called 911 for the first time. They sent an ambulance. I then calmed down enough to get them to let me go so I could call Kirby. Of course my hysterics revived and I was in sooo much pain! Kirby got there right when the ambulance did. He may have been a little freaked, even with my assurances the baby was okay- I clearly was not. That was the first time I rode in an ambulance. It was not that much fun- not like the movies. Not that I figured it would be, but I guess I never pictured myself in one before.

X-rays are the worst. I won't even elaborate because if you've never had a broken bone x-rayed there really is no way to describe it. I wouldn't have known, nor do I ever wish to know again.

So the verdict is: broke both sides of my left ankle. I had to get surgery- plate and screws (hence the nick name frankenankle). Not the best situation for an already miserable pregnant lady...

Until the throbbing stops....

ps- on the flip side my "good" foot is no longer swollen. Probably because I haven't hardly walked on it in the last 3 days...

Friday, July 23, 2010

Last Day Of Work

Not forever though, but until I have this baby and have to (begrudgingly) return to the grind.

I wouldn't mind the grind so much except the "union" took over at my place of employment. I would not recommend union to anyone, but really if you work for a place that has it- you have no choice. Besides short changing me on a 'raise' and creating shift bids (which ironically changed my crappy hours into even crappier hours- 3 to midnight), they have done nothing for me. I feel cheated. Of course maybe if I had been there for 10 years I'd've gotten a big fatty raise and super great hours....

I may also not be as cranky if I weren't sporting shoes that feel 2 sizes too small due to swelling in my pregnancy.

Anyway that complaint is for another day. I'm fighting with the disability people currently. Apparently a DR's note is not enough to for them to follow. Never mind he has years and years of schooling, makes a crap ton of money for what he knows and does, and has been practicing for a ridiculous amount of time with hundreds upon hundreds of ladies in my condition. They have to undermine his authority over my health. It has been a pain with them to reduce my hours per my DR's request (they denied it) and certainly not enough to get me off of work when I clearly have problems. Am I the worst pregnant lady on the block? By all means, no. But that doesn't mean I want to strain myself and stress myself out until I AM the worst pregnant lady on the block. I have #1 to take care of. That would be me, as I'm the sole provider for my baby's well being while he's baking in my oven. So that company can- well I'll save it for if they decide to deny me again. No need to get my blood pressure up thinking about them.

Of course now it's off to get ready for work. I really do like my job... I just don't like the stress. I guess no one likes stress...

ps I know I'd've isn't proper grammar, but it sure does make an awesome contraction, right?

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Work, Pregnancy, and Heat

It really doesn't matter what order you put those words in, they don't go together at all. 6 weeks left (give or take, hopefully take) till I can meet my little guy. The anticipation is growing. Every little cramp I'm asking if it's going to get worse so I can begin the process of having this baby... Obviously I'm still giant with no baby in tow. Ugh I need to get some tums- brb.

Okay I'm back. Gotta love heartburn. At least I didn't wake up choking on my stomach acid (I sleep practically sitting up). I have tropical flavor store brand tums and I don't like the red ones.

ANYWAY I'm really po'd at my work... I've debated if I'm mad enough to complain over the Internet about them. After all, complaining via blog IS my forte. It's not slander if it's the truth, right? My daughter, who just turned 8 yesterday (Happy Birthday Gwynnie!), told me if I don't like it to just quit. Oh, honey, if only it were that easy.

I'm trying to teach her (and all the kids) responsibility. Like pick up your charger that the cat keeps chewing on... "oh yeah mom I will" Well she didn't and the cat chewed a little hole in it. I have picked it up (okay, Kirby did cuz I can't really bend down) and "put it away" where the cat can't shock himself. He is old after all... We'll see how long it takes her to ask for it when the electronic is dead. Lets see if I remembered where I put it away, too. She lost her DS, also. I don't even know how many times I've wasted breath telling her to put it away in her puppy purse in her dresser drawer... She asked me yesterday if I was looking for it. Um, it's your DS, you should look for it.

She is about as scatterbrained as I am when it comes to stuff (I've learned my lesson enough times; I haven't locked my keys in my car for a few years, for example). Maybe someday she'll get it.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

August 2001

Almost 9 years ago I wrote a poem. I've had the same email for probably 11 years. I apparently made a "saved letters" folder with email that for whatever reason meant a lot to me. I found this poem I wrote, no title, saved to myself on August 20, 2001. I found it interesting and thought I would share with the world. I wonder what struggles were going on in my life that fall almost 9 years ago?

The back of my head aches,

from the pounding of your shoes.

I can't stop thinking of you.

You're driving me into a whirlwind of confusion.

The way you constantly play in my mind,

conceiving a forbidden love.

The love that only comes once in a life.

Soul partners,

separated by conviction.

Lovers longing for another,

apart by integrity for one another.

Lonesome hearts broken from the pitiful restrain.

Many hearts have been hardened by the refrain.

She loves him,

and he,


but infidelity is only one lustful touch away.

Excitement and visions chase me.

Energy curls around my body,

delicately caressing the sweetness of my skin.

I helplessly gaze on in my mind,

watching his body tense up when he sees me.

His soft curves.

We know what me must do.

We know our obligations.

So we must part,

like the summer sun leaves a scorching day.

Like the warmth of the night cools.

A still lit candles' burning fades,

but our secret,

untouched innocent love will not.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Okay- not quite a month later

yeah... it's been a while; I promised myself last blog I wouldn't let so much time pass w/o visiting.

I'm still pregnant. It's hard to get on the computer. Not because I don't have time, but because of my new found largeness has prevented me from lap topping it comfortably. I seem to be of a kind of lazy that all I want to do is lay and get my feet up. If only I had some bon bon's!

I now weigh 170 lbs! Yikes!! That is as much as my sexy husband. I don't have quite the physique. I suppose that is a good thing.

Lets see- It's hard work helping create life inside me. I have to change my clothes quite often. I don't know how, but things always manage to spill on myself. I ate the other day with the napkin tucked in my shirt like a lobster bib and of course where do I spill food??? Right on the edge! Never mind half the stuff is below the horizon where I can't see until I walk in front of a mirror! I happen to be a little clumsy and absent minded. My toes needed painted. I don't tie my shoes anymore. In fact, that barefoot and pregnant saying sounds awful good about now. Oh and why do the mosquitoes always want to bite my feet where I can't reach?

Of course I have my normal ailments, heartburn, swelling, tired, hormonal... Still having random cravings... but those are all boring compared to my subconscious ways of finding snacks for later (i.e. spilling food on myself all the time)