Tuesday, October 30, 2007

What color crayon are you?

A co-worker sent this to me, and of course I did it. I'm a YELLOW. Sounds like it describes me pretty well. What do you think?

You Are a Yellow Crayon

Your world is colored with happy, warm, fun colors.
You have a thoughtful and wise way about you. Some people might even consider you a genius.
Charming and eloquent, you are able to get people to do things your way.
While you seem spontaneous and free wheeling, you are calculating to the extreme.

Your color wheel opposite is purple. You both are charismatic leaders, but purple people act like you have no depth.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Butter......It's Not! Vol. 1, Issue 2

It's random thought time once again in Seraphim's Wittle World. Lord only knows what's going to come from that mushy loaf of ground beef between my ears that some people call a brain.

*My surgery was July 17th. Although I think that most people who read my blog also read Tal's, so they know about it. It was a pretty easy procedure (at least for ME). I was in there early that morning. Was delayed for 1/2 hour due to an emergency, but they got me in the OR and it was lights out. I woke up a few hours later in recovery, upchucked a bit, then went back to sleep until they wheeled me to my room. Tal and my mom came in for a little bit, but then they left to get something to eat and go home for some rest. I was pretty out of it anyway. Drugs.....they can be a wonderful thing sometimes. They had my IV in a weird place on my right wrist because that was the only vein that would cooperate. But I kept occluding it when I would fall asleep and my wrist would bend, and an alarm would go off and wake me up. I would lie there and listen to it beep until the nurse came and turned it off then we'd try to figure out how to keep me from bending my wrist. Actually, she tried to figure it out, I just lay there in my drug induced coma and watched. We found that if we propped my arm up on a rolled-up towel, that helped a bit. They also had me hooked up to a machine that dispensed painkiller whenever I pushed a button. I called that my "happy button". Then I would lie there and watch the button, waiting for it to turn green so I could press it again. Fun times.

Next morning, they woke me up and gave me some breakfast. Then they removed the IV, catheter, and other things I care not to mention at this time, got me up and on my feet, and we took a walk down the hallway. I felt like a toddler who was still learning to walk, very unsteady on my feet. At the end of the hall, a lady in another room waved at me from her bed and asked how I was feeling. "We met each other in recovery.", she says. Sheesh, apparently I make new friends easier when I'm on drugs. (Doesn't surprise me, seems I get more social when I'm under the influence........) Apparently we carried on a short conversation too, but I have absolutely no recollection.

(LOL........I just pooted and then Classical Gas started playing on the radio. Sorry, just had to share.)

AnyHOO, back to my room and both doctors show up to discuss the surgery (separately, not at the same time). I wish Tal and my mom had been there, because I barely remember what they said. By then, I was sitting up in the chair. Mom and Tal show up, then decide to go get some lunch while I get to eat the yummy hospital food they nurse brought in for me to eat. Finally, they get me all checked out, cleaned up, and discharged and send me on my merry way with my hair sticking out all over the place.

Back home, recovery was nice. A whole month off of work, my every need being catered to, not a whole lot of pain, I was pretty spoiled. Talmadge had gotten me this contraption called the "Golden Retriever" - a mechanical grabber thingy to assist me in picking things up off the floor without bending over. Although, a much more fun use I found later was goosing Tal in the hiney as he left the room and harassing Puddy with it.

It was so tough to return to work after I was released by the doctor. Of course, I HAD to go back to work during one of the busiest times. I'm still struggling with my energy level. I have more days that I am dancing as fast as I can to keep up.

* I just got over a bout with a cold that turned to bronchitis. I still have a bit of a cough, but I'm not sure if it's the bronchitis refusing to totally let go or if it's a side effect of the blood pressure medicine my GP put me on after she found my BP was higher than usual. I'm pretty sure that it spiked because of the cold medicines I was taking. Because of all the coughing, I could not use my CPAP machine for nearly a month. Now I am trying to get used to wearing the mask again. For some reason I'm having problems with a dry nose, now, also. I swear, if it's not one thing with me, it's another.

*I'm also still trying to make myself go back to working out at the Y. It's a struggle to WANT to go. With my still-low energy level, some days I'm raring to go and other days I just feel like I am slogging through wet concrete. Most days, after working all day then nearly an hour in the car on the commute home, I barely have just enough juice left to make supper. Although, I HAVE found that on days that we DO manage to go, I feel much better after working out than I did going in. It's just the GETTING THERE that's the hard part. Have to get home, change clothes, get stuff out for supper if necessary. And - tell me if you agree - the toughest part is that once you get home, you just don't feel like leaving again!

*A couple of weeks ago, the mother of one of my co-workers was fatally attacked by an alligator. She was 82, probably just taking a stroll around one of the many lagoons in their community. It was thought that she may have collapsed from a stroke or heart attack and then the gator came along and found her. This happened on a Friday evening, she was not found until around noon on Saturday. An autopsy found that she did not have a stroke or heart attack, and had succumbed to injuries from the attack. The 9-ft gator was caught and an examination of it's stomach contents found it was indeed the one that killed her. The news stated that while there have been about 8 reported gator attacks in the state of Georgia since 1980 and she was the first fatality in as much time. Please keep this family in your prayers.

Just seems so surreal - almost as if it were an episode of CSI.

*Talmadge and The General have recently been voted the World's Most Freakin' Cute Husbands.

*I really need to get some work done. I'm not getting paid to blog. Where CAN I get a job like that??? :-)

Until later!

-Seraphim "Time Capsule" Gleck