Sunthing Special

I was at Home Depot today and on my way out I saw a big bucket with yellow warning sign next to it. Apparently the roof was leaking. Wouldn’t you think Home Depot was the one place you wouldn’t find a leaking roof?

We’re driving to my in-laws this morning (Thanksgiving) and get a flat tire. We’re on the side of 77 S and while my husband is putting the spare on, he asks my son to hold the lug nuts. Of course all one can think of is the great scene in “A Christmas Story” when they get a flat tire and Ralphie holds the lug nuts, spills them into the snow and utters the F bomb. Fortunately, my son did not lose the lug nuts (though he did really really want to pick up all the trash he saw (or at least the empty can of Budweiser) on the side of the highway) and in minutes we were back on the road, over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house.

Overheard while in post-op today: one woman who was with a few-days-old foster baby who was in drug withdrawal from its birth mother. The woman, who had adopted several other babies in need, was explaining how “crack babies” need to be swaddled closely and  rocked constantly and loved like all children. I thought to myself, “Thank God there are people who have the love and incredibleness to take care of babies like that.” A few minutes later we heard a teenage girl, also recovering from a tonsillectomy, crying and fighting with her mother. The mother’s telling her daughter to “stop your whining and crying right now” and the daughter’s telling her mom to “shut up”. It went on and on like this and I’m just thinking “I hope to God that my kids and I never have a relationship like that.” How awful.

Anyone who’s had anestheia knows one of the worst parts of the experience is not eating the day of the procedure. My daughter’s tonsillectomy was supposed to be at 12:30 today and I was dreading the thought of being with a child who could not eat. Fortunately (?) the day before the hospital called to move her surgery up to 7:30 a.m., meaning we had to be there by 5:30. Sure, we had to get up and out before dawn, but at least we didn’t have to deal with the hunger issue, right? Well, during preop the child life specialist was talking to her, saying, “You’re probably pretty hungry, right?” To which I’m sure my daughter thought, “I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, yeah, I am.”  I flashed back to when my other daughter had her tonsils out a couple years ago and had a longer time of fasting. I swear four of the 16 people talking to her before her surgery were like, “You’re probably pretty hungry, right? Well, just think, after this is over you can have all the popsicles you want and then tomorrow you can have ice cream and pudding and mashed potatoes and shakes … ” I’m like, are you trying to torture this child by telling her all the things she CAN’T have now or what? It’s just wrong is all!

be up and at ‘em by 4:45 a.m. but tomorrow is one of those days. You don’t mind when you’re getting up that early to go, say, to the airport for vacation. But to be at the hospital at 5:30 a.m. so your child can have their tonsils taken out is, well, not so fun (for you or the sleepy child you have to drag out of bed).