The Waiting Game

So I've been spending quite a bit of my free time lately in hospital waiting rooms. This has led me to discover that I am a people watcher. And people's habits are nasty. And funny.

SuperHubby went back for more surgery this week. Some tidbits I've noticed along the way:

• There IS such a thing as an external wedgie. It is not attractive. It's actually worse than the more common internal wedgie, because this one's out there for everyone to see. And you can't dig it out, because that's nasty. But if you're fat (like MUSC Guy) it's really obvious, so you really SHOULD dig it out. What a conundrum.
• The "no food in waiting area" signs to not apply to the people sitting directly under them. Apparently.
• You can eavesdrop on deaf people if you know sign language. This is really actually pretty cool. If you eavesdrop on hearing people, you have to pretend like you're not doing it. Deaf people are so caught up in signing that they don't notice. And you don't have to whisper when you tell your neighbor what they're talking about.
• People will wear ANYTHING to the hospital. Now I'm all for comfort. Most days I've sported jeans, tees and flips. And fabulous hair. But one lady was there in - no kidding - pink gardening shoes with white socks, pink flannel pajama pants with candy canes all over them and a white tee shirt. I don't care if you're going in for surgery or not, at least try to dress like you're not 3.
• People come to the hospital like they're going on vacation. I saw more rolling luggage there than my last trip to the airport. It was nuts. SuperHubby comes in with the clothes on his back; I carry them out in a little hospital-issue plastic baggie. What could you possibly be packing for if you're having surgery?
• The length of "the doctor/nurse will be with you in just a minute" depends on whether you're the doctor/nurse or the patient/patient's wife.
• No matter how many different things I bring to amuse myself, I will sit with my arms crossed and a blank stare for the entire time I'm in the waiting room. This is commonly referred to as Lori's Don't-Talk-To-Me Look. Those who have seen it know it well.
• All waiting rooms should be equipped with recliners.
• The quality of the cafeteria food actually increases with the length of time you're at the hospital and have to partake of its offerings. At least it seems like it does. Anyway, they only serve 3 different meals, all made with the same ingredients. Nothing like a little variety while you're waiting.

SuperHubby had surgery on Wednesday. He's still in the hospital. That means it's Pop Tarts for the boys, all 3 meals, every day. I'm on a sweet tea IV. But I learned a few new things this week.

Sick...and Tired

WARNING: There is a very good chance there will be whining in this blog. I would apolgize for it, but I am not in the least bit sorry. The only thing worse than no apology is an insincere one.

Last week (not this past week, the one prior to that) was a really BAD week. Maybe not the worst week ever, but it definitely rated up there.

It actually started while we were on our annual family vacation, which is a blast. I'd tell you all about it, but you'd just be jealous, so I'll save that for another day. Anyway, while we there, SuperHubby started feeling a little under the weather. Nasty, actually.

So a couple of days after we get home, I actually convince him to go to the doctor. This sounds way less impressive than it really is. SH normally doesn't go to the doctor unless a limb has just fallen off. Or he's having trouble with his shunt. Right.

So he spends the day at the emergency room. Nothing. They tell him he's great, good, go on home. I realize these are doctors, but he knows his body and I know his symptoms, and we both knew there was something going on. We had some tension in Fitzgerald house that weekend.

By Sunday I had him back in the ER. He was admitted. Fast forward to the end of the week, and SH has been to the ER twice, has had his shunt tapped twice, had one spinal tap, 2 brain surgeries, and 15 staples in his head (not including the various scans, etc. done on him during his 6 day jaunt at MUSC).

So it's been a stinky week. Still, I was reminded how wonderful our friends and family are. My aunt took my children so often that she could have petitioned to legally adopt them. My brother called every day - sometimes more than once - from Spartanburg, where he was one of the leaders at his church camp. One of my co-workers made me a lasagna (her surgery meal for us - which I haven't had in a long time - and although I love it, would prefer never to eat it again!). A group of co-workers pooled their resources and gave me gas money, etc. for the week. My babysitter picked up the boys after VBS and took them home, then waited until my aunt showed up to get them - the night before he was leaving for Kenya! My aunt and uncle even cut my grass. Incredible stuff from the people who love us - and all have their own lives to get on with at the same time!!

So SuperHubby is sick ... and I'm tired. (I know, cry me a river Lori, you're tired...but SH had his head opened up several times last week. What am I complaining about?)

Friday we went back to MUSC for the lovely post-op visit. Those are never fun: that's when they take out the staples. However, with some concerns we were having, and then the doctor had the same ones, we ended up spending the majority of the day there with SH having more scans, tests, etc. We go back tomorrow -- realizing that we could be looking at more surgery.

God is faithful, but my heart aches for SuperHubby.

Someday

I love lists. To-do lists, weekly lists, long-term goal lists, what to pack for vacation lists...More work goes into my lists than the actual jobs they detail. I love bulleted lists, boxes to check off, items to scratch through ... and then re-writing the entire list, because who really wants a list that isn't neat and tidy?

I've created a new list for myself. Not a weekly or even a daily list, not a long-term goals list or a list of names for future pets or a list of body parts that can be pierced. This is my "To Do Before I Die" list. It's a really great list.

1. I'd like to learn to play one song on the piano. This could be challenging, as I am not at all musically gifted. I can sing any lyric to any song written since 1980, but nobody wants to listen. When I was a little girl, I wanted piano lessons. My parents agreed but said I would have to put the piano in my room. I declined their invitation. I still regret it.
2. I'd like to learn to drive a stick shift. Not because I think it would be fun, but because I think it's a good skill to have. Maybe.
3. I'd like to own a car that I actually pick out and buy. I'm not talking new, and I'm certainly not talking expensive. But I'm not talking Suppository.
4. I want to be involved in finding a cause and a cure for autism.
5. I'd like to have feet pretty enough for sandals. I wear flips now, but I shouldn't be allowed to...my feet are just that ugly. But I would like pretty feet. I didn't say everything on this list was possible.
6. I'd like to learn to cook one full meal (not spaghetti). This is another challenge, as I don't enjoy cooking and don't have much talent in the kitchen department. This is not a desire for myself; it's more for SuperHubby. Plus, it would be great if I needed it. If your children have ever told you, on day 3 of your husband being in the hospital, "Mommy, can we have a different flavor pop tart today?" - it may be time to learn. (yes, this really happened)
7. I want to take my children to Disney. And maybe Legoland.
8. I'd like to be half as smart as I am organized.
9. I'd like to become a good housekeeper (moving up from "good enough").
10. I want to ride a horse. Apparently I rode a horse when I was about 2 or 3, although I have no recollection of it, but we have pictures. I am wearing a hideous cowgirl outfit, which perfectly matches the ones my brother and 5 cousins are wearing. Complete with hats. Even the horse felt sorry for us.
11. I'd like to ride in an airplane without being (a) completely terrified, (b) heavily medicated, or (c) dead.
12. I want to lead a small group. I have the plan. I need the guts.
13. I'd like to not turn a thousand shades of red whenever spoken to, looked at or breathed on.
14. I want to learn American Sign Language.
15. I'd like to teach someone something important - although I'm not quite sure what.
16. I want to have really cool glasses. The kind where people stop on the street and say, "Wow, what a trendsetter. That chick is wearing some groovy glasses."
17. I want to write a book.
18. I'd like to be a foster parent.
19. I'd like to have the occasion to wear my tiara. FrogBoy gave it to me for Mother's Day. It is heart-shaped and has jewels that light up (blinking) at the touch of a button.
20. I'd like to go swimming. In a pool. I haven't done that since 1994, the year I became pregnant with Spanky. I decided I was fat, then I was fat, then I had a baby and was paranoid, then I got pregnant (and fat) again, and I stayed fat. But I love to swim.
21. I'd like to live in a house with 2 toilets, a screened porch and a laundry room that's located somewhere other than the garage.
22. I want to be the best wife to SuperHubby and mom to Spanky and FrogBoy that I can be.

I also have a dream on my list ... That all women will experience at least one fantastic hair day and own one fabulous purse. Everyone deserves that.