While sitting on the exam table today, waiting for the doctor to enter the room and torture me again, I happened to notice the art decorating his walls.

“Ducks,” I muttered, dryly. “…’Cuz that’s what everyone enjoys looking at while waiting for the doctor. A bunch of boring Mallards all over the walls. ‘Quack-Quack‘.”

Bob chuckled softly as I turned my head his way. “Betcha the good doctor hasn’t correlated the pun he’s got going on there,” I said, speaking a portion of my thoughts out loud. The other portion of my thoughts, the ones that remained silent, hoped that those ducks weren’t trying to issue a warning. Quack?

“Probably not,” said Bob, humoring me.

The doctor entered the room about then, and I suppose I need to set this one up for you a bit. I’ll try to remain as far away from TMI as I can, mainly because I find it a bit uncomfortable to discuss. Anyhoo, I have an incision on the underside of my left breast. On my last visit to the surgeon he made the incision a bit wider and dug into it with his instruments of pain. Thusly, he created a rather deep hole. Under doctor’s orders, I have had to keep this hole (wound) open in order to clear up all traces of infection. Every evening, again on doctor’s orders, Bob has had to ‘unpack’ the wound and then ‘repack’ it with medical gauze ribbon before covering it back up with gauze padding and microfoam tape.

Yeah. ‘Ouch!‘

So there I was on the exam table. The doctor was leaning over me to have a look-see and he said, “Oh, yeah. It’s looking a whole lot better. …a whole lot.” His gaze suddenly shifted from my boob to my eyes (imagine that!) and he said, with a soft, short laugh, “No pun intended.”

Did he really just say that?

After the doctor left the room, and while I was waiting for the nurse to come back in and repack my wound, Bob asked me how I was doing. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly,” I said, a bit dumbfounded. “The only thought in my mind right now is that the doctor just made a punny.”

Bob, also realizing the irony in that, chuckled softly. “Yeah. I noticed.”

So now, I wonder if the good doctor hand-picked the art decorating his exam room walls. And if he did… shame on him. That’s not funny!

I am scheduled for surgery on Thursday morning to remove the lesion and surrounding scar tissue on my left breast. Out of idle curiousity, I asked the doctor if this was going to make me lopsided and he said, “Everyone is a little lopsided to begin with.”

Now I ask you… What kind of answer was that? Talk about avoiding the question. Yeesh. I mean, seriously. If I am a ‘little lopsided to begin with’, then it stands to reason that I’ll only be more so. Right?

So when I got home I stripped and looked in the mirror to see which one of these was bigger than the other. As far as I can tell, it looks like the doc will be trimming the abundant side, so that’s cool.

Not that I was really worried about it or anything.

No. I’m more concerned with what will be decorating the hospital walls.

(***WARNING: This post contains what some ninny may refer to as ‘profane expletives’. However, due to circumstances beyond our control, it has been determined that these colorful words are quite necessary, if not wholly therapeutic.)

So.

In the past two weeks I have endured much pain and gawd-awful trauma; a fair portion of that due to the torture of well-meaning doctors. Tomorrow afternoon I must endure another bout of torture, all for my own good. Or so, that is what I’m supposed to focus upon. And then, if all ‘looks good‘ (Ha!), I will be going under-the-knife this Thursday.

Before my last visit to the doctor I had decided upon the mantra of: ‘This will pass–This will pass–This will pass‘. I told my brain to ditch reality and focus upon the day when this is all over and done. It will pass. I will heal.

Unfortunately, during my last doctor appointment, the pain over-rode my ability to breathe. Thusly, my mantra went something like this:

This will pass.
{owww!}
This isn’t happening.
{Deep breath}
I’m not here.
{gasp!}
Find your happy spot, Stacy.
{OUCH!}
Son-of-a-monkey’s-non-bedside-manner-asswipe-that-fucking-hurts-like-hell-could-you-be-any-more-cruel-leave-me-the-fuck-alone-I-don’t-want-to-get-better-you-mean-spirited-putz!!!
{moan}
{groan}
{wince}
{whimper}
{gasp!}
{squeeze Bob’s hand until it turns blue}
Happy spot
Happy spot
Happy spot
{AAAUUUGGGHHH!}
FUCK-FUCK-FUCKITY-FUCK!
I’m not here.
I’m not here.
I’m not here.

Doc: “I’m sorry. Does that hurt?”
Me: “Yes!”
Doc: {…to the nurse} “Give me 10cc’s of Lidocaine.”
Me: {muttering under my breath} “I hate needles.” {…but all the while I’m thinking–’small prick ends big pain–you can deal’}

(I heard that, Mr. Dyckerson!)

After a total of 30cc’s of Lidocaine, I was mercifully numb. However, I felt the pressure as the doc dug away at the source of my pain. That’s freakin’ freaky. And later, when the Lidocaine wore off…

Yeah. So not fun; especially when my entire body rejected the ‘happy-narcotic-pills’ that the doctor prescribed. I am a narcotics wimp. My bathroom cabinet is stocked with unused Darvocet, Vicodin, and now, Percocet. I don’t know why I bother filling the prescriptions. I suppose it’s because pain makes the brain fuzzily stupid with hope.

So anyway, I had no intentions of writing everything that I just did above. I was simply going to pretend, for today, that all this pain and torment is over and done with; a thing of the past and I’m now healed. This just seems to work well with the Advil-Tylenol and occasional Heineken cocktails that I’ve taken it upon myself to prescribe. (No lectures please. It’s not like I’m driving. {heh} That was supposed to be funny.)

Okay, seriously. Not to worry. My mother is a nurse and she has given me proper instruction on how to dose myself sans the side effect of death.

Right then. Enough about me.

The word for my reality-dodging day is: Onamonapia Anamanapea Onomatopoeia!

Why?

Because it’s a rather effective way to distract the mind, of course! Yeesh. Must I take you by the hand? C’mon now. Get with it!

Goosh!
Pow!
Zing!
Onomatopoeias bring,
a goofy smile
And I say,
“Phblttt!!!”
to pain that makes me,
Gasp!
Wail!
and cry out loud: “Aaauuuggghhh!”

Batman onomatopoeias
twist my lips into a wicked
grin,
as I imagine
a pair of Sock’em Boppers
on my girly hands
My doctor’s wide-eyed face
stares back at me in horror;
my Sock’em BopBuddy,
He is

“BAM!”
“BIF!”
“KA-POW!”
“CR-A-A-A-CK!”
“THWACK!”
“WHAP!”
“WHAP!”
“WHAP!”
“KER-SPLA-A-T!”

… “Aaahhh!”

Therapy via
onomatopoeia

Ha!

Why yes, I have lost my mind. Thanks for asking.

Obviously, I’m not supposed to be here. I shouldn’t be typing. I should be hibernating in a cave somewhere with half a dozen kegs of Heineken and barrel of monkeys. Everyone needs a barrel of monkeys. I wonder if I can get mine in ‘all-blue’. Those red monkeys give me a headache.

Yeah. Uh. It’s just been a tough couple of months. And now… now I’ve got something wacky going on with the muscles or nerves in my shoulder blades. It’s causing a near perpetual state of numbness in my hands. I’m not getting enough sleep because of it. And, as if that isn’t enough, I’ve got a very painful, inflamed cyst on the underside of my left…

Aw, hell. I hurt. Bad. I’m miserable. I wanna cry.

Somebody hug me, please. But not too tight.

Yay me.

Since returning home from my mother’s house, I have felt rather uninspired in all aspects of life, but especially in my blogging. I’m just in that mode where I want to veg, zone out, take a break from life. I just don’t want to think, or worry, or be needed for anything, you know. However, life hasn’t been all that accommodating. Between the 15 loads of laundry I’ve done in the past few days, the constant re-loading of the dishwasher, cooking dinners, figuring out where to rob Peter to pay Paul, and having to take my 14 yr. old son to the ER last night… I can’t seem to escape reality.

That bites.

My son got shoved to the ground by a local bully last night. He put his arm out to stop his fall and wound up fracturing his left radius (wrist/arm bone). Then, when I called for a follow-up appointment with the ‘on-call’ Orthopaedic ER doctor, I was told that they wouldn’t be able to get my son in for an appointment until after September 5th.

Excuse me? Oh, I don’t think so! I called the hospital administrator and got that little problem fixed. My son will be seen tomorrow morning.

In other news… I applied for a FT Seasonal job. Partly because we could use a bit of extra income right now; and partly because it’ll help out someone else. Since we both applied and got hired on at the same place, we can carpool. The hours are from 4pm to 1:30am, so that means I won’t have to cook dinner for awhile. I should be ecstatic about that. But for some reason I’m not. I’m really not ecstatic about anything right now.

Isn’t this a fun post?

Okay. Don’t answer that.

My daughter wants to go back to public school this year. With this new job, I won’t be home for her when she gets home from school. That bites too. Bob will be here, so the kids won’t be home alone. But, he tends to be rather absent-minded at times, so I worry that my daughter won’t have the discipline needed to get her homework done. …And I won’t be available to check.

Bah.

Isn’t it bad enough that we have Lima Beans in this world; and that our mothers made us eat them.

I’m going to quit while I’m behind. I just realized that I should have saved this post for MetalMom’s Monday Moaning. (Hmmm, that’s almost poetic.) As soon as I climb out of this funk, I’ll be back to posting with the funny stuff.

Maybe.

…And no, Mr. Dyckerson, I will not be driving a forklift.

TOP 10 PLAYERS IN JULY
(76 players played during the month.)

HALL OF FAME

1. Marsalinator (719 points, 7 wins)

2. Dan (519 points, 2 wins)

3. Turnbaby (470 points, 0 wins)

4. Trivialime (451 points, 1 wins)

5. Quasar quasar (446 points, 3 wins)

6. Mr. Fab (434 points, 0 wins)

7. JJay (419 points, 5 wins)

8. QueenVelveeta (410 points, 1 wins)

9. Pix (403 points, 2 wins)

10. GeorgianBlue (397 points, 2 wins)

WTG! Good job, folks!

(Note: I’m not always certain which blogger to match to which Trivia ID. So if your name is above, and you would like a link to your blog or website, please let me know in comments and I’ll hook you up. Or, if you prefer, you can add your info in the Mr. Linky box below.)

The Rest Of The Best

Many thanks to Mr. Fabulos for pimping Stacy’s Trivia Challenge. Due to his wonderful enthusiasm, I’ve gained so many new players I can hardly keep up with who’s who. So, help a gal out, will ya. If you’re playing my trivia game and you’d like some recgonition for playing, please add your name and link here. Hey, there couldn’t be a Top Ten without us. Right?

Stacy’s Trivia Challenge: Game Tips

The top factors for improving your points:

• a.) Accuracy
• b.) Speed
• c.) Frequency (Play seven days a week, as opposed to four or five.)
• d.) Current Players (The more people that play, (on any given day), the higher your score will be.)
• e.) Lastly … bone up on your trivia!

If you haven’t played “Stacy’s Trivia Challenge“, what are ya waiting for? C’mon, join the fun. A new (monthly) game starts today. …And we love the competition!

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