A Conspiracy of Pauls

So, I was thinking about this today, and have come to the conclusion that what is happening to my body is not so much a sad turn of events, or perhaps even some would say a tragedy in the making, but rather, a vast medical wing conspiracy.

It came to me this morning in the glorious cleansing ritual that the commoners refer to as a "shower". It is a Conspiracy of Pauls.

Exhibit A: My urologist is Dr. Paul K. He has been to Omaha, he owns a hunk of Warren Buffet's empire, please go to Dairy Queen today and support him.

Exhibit B: My General Practitioner is Dr. Paul G. He has never been to Omaha. He is Italian (I think) and there are lots of good Italian restaurants in Omaha. Watch the Sopranos tonight, think of Dr. G.

Exhibit 3: My favorite actor is Paul Sorvino. He is Italian, he sings Opera, probably likes ice cream, and I don't care if he has been to Omaha or not. Go watch "Goodfellas" tomorrow.

Can you see it?!?!?! It is all here in dark green and dots! Paul K. discovers the pain, Paul G. writes me prescriptions to treat the pain, and Paul S. plays the legitimate businessman who supplies the pharmacy with the drugs that "fell off a truck" to fill my prescription!

Oh....My......GAWD!!!!!

It is now that I will advise you of the fact that I inherited the Blanche DuBois gene from my mother's side of the family. Fortunately it is tempered with the Hakuna Matata* gene from my father's side of the family, so the majority of my hysterical rantings and dramatic license are literary.

Dr. K has already talked to a local laparoscopic surgeon at the Kidney Stone Center at Riverside hospital here in Columbus. He has agreed to take my case, and my information is being sent to him, I see him Tuesday.

We leave and take Buddy to school. We are late, and he managed to stop for one picture,






and then I got one more.





He pretty much left me in the dust.

We picked Buddy up at noon, came home. I made him his "first day of school" lunch, PB&J cut in triangles and arranged like NASCAR flags around the bottom of plate, red grapes in the middle and quartered strawberries across the top of the plate. I served this with a glass of "yellow juice" which is, ironically, Orange Juice.

He looks at the plate, and the side of yogurt served with it. "oh Nice!" He thanks me and proceeds to eat a package of Zesta Saltine crackers.


Buddy, don't you want to eat the lunch I made for you?

By now I'm bent over the counter, holding it for support, I literally cannot stand because of the pain.

"nope, it's too pretty"

Never again will I serve aesthetically pleasing food.

I convince him to come upstairs and play with his trains so I can lay down. After about 90 minutes, he is in the bed with me, and we are watching a very entertaining episode of Spongebob Squarepants, when I finally feel the meds winning out over the pain.

We go see Dr. G. I tell him of my Paul Conspiracy Theory. He looks suspiciously at me, and now I know I'm being watched.

He prescribes a Duragesic Patch for me. I put it on when we got home. I began to feel a gradual numbing of the pain a few hours later. It flared up again, but I was able to beat it back with Percocet and rest.

Narcotics do not make me sleepy. I don't get a "high" from them, so I don't understand why people abuse them. I guess if you aren't in pain, you get all euphoric with them, but not me. The Duragesic patch so far is great, except keeping it on. I'll have to find a better place on Sunday when I put the new one on.

Then I tried to go to bed. Normally, this is an exercise in futility. But I felt myself drifting off to a peaceful sleep....and I freaked out. Oh No! I feel floaty and light, I must be having a fentanyl overdose....ack! must consult internet immediately!

Anyway, I got about two hours of sleep in, when I was awakened by a smell. I got dressed and followed my nose to the source.

The bassets looked guilty in their crates. I was sure one of them had an accident.

I let them go potty and investigated the crates. It seems that Mr. Brutus had some really bad gas. So bad that when they came back inside, he immediately ran to bunk with Henry. It must suck to have one of the strongest senses of smell in the animal kingdom.

So I'll leave you with this. Hounds are the most burying type of dog I've ever seen. Give them a rawhide bone, they have to go bury it....to let it ferment or age or something, and then go dig it up a few hours or day later and enjoy it. This must be a useless "throwback" instinct, as they tend "bury" their bones in blankets, clothes baskets, couch cushions, etc.

Monday, Super G cleaned the litter boxes for me.

He found very little cat poo, (all dogs love catbox crunchies) but he did find a rawhide bone.

It is so very weird to live HERE.

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* Hakuna Matata is a phrase from the Disney Movie, "The Lion King" which translates to "no worries"

Here we go again

Hello.


A year ago I started this blog. It was fun, for those who know me, to read about the life as a stay at home mom. You know, eatin' bon bons, watchin' soaps, doin' the cabana boy. Uh huh. But then I got pissed one day, (once again a speck of dust was found under the divan, I had to flog the maid, then hide the body) I realized that I just could not do it ALL by myself, and deleted the blog.

So now I find myself with some leisure time, and I decided that I had too much goop in my head, I must re-open the blog. Because my two readers were bored.

Here it is. I have had 20 minutes of silence, but that is ending. So much for blogging today. I gave each child a bowl of candy, sent them upstairs to watch Spongebob for 3 hours. The candy must be gone.....

So here is the deal. I sell cloth diapers. really. People use them, they're cute and they save you money and people think you're weird. It's a great thing. See the link labeled "My Store" and you'll be amazed. I am not JUST a Stay at Home Mom (SAHM). Even though rearing children is a JOB, I also have what is commonly accepted to BE a JOB, I do data entry from my home, about 30 hours per week. Sweet deal, you say? I get to sit at my desk in my pajamas, or less, and work when I want! But wait, you interrupt the fantasy, didn't you say that you had a job rearing children? Why yes, I answer, I do two jobs at once! I key a document, I stop to break up a fight, I key two documents, then clean marker off the dog. You see? I have 6 hours of work to do per day, It takes me 13 hours to complete.

I have no maid. My house is a disaster. Oh yeah, we have pets. Two old cats, who hate me now because we foster Basset Hounds for Ohio Basset Rescue (see the link) Yup, crazy huh? We have an Australian Shepherd, 6 year old, 20 pounds overweight, with bad hips and an attitude. So last fall I had to have a Basset Hound, I thought they were big carpets with floppy ears. We decided to foster dogs first, but we kept the first one...Henry aka PeeCircles. Then came Droopy, the puppy who stayed for 4 months, then Maggie, who stayed a week. Then my husband went out of town for a month. Then came Luke, Diego, Cooper, Rascal and now we have Brutus. (go to the OBR link, and check out the adoption page, Brutus is towards the bottom) PeeCircles and Brutus like each other, Brutus is huge, drooly, floppy and so damn cool. I want to keep him. My husband does not. Please flood my inbox with reasons to keep Brutus. I like him. I can't make another hole in my head, so I must get another dog.

Oh, oh yeah. I also babysit other people's children. So when Bug went to first grade the other day, I'm at home, trying to work the paying job, I have three kids, ages 3 1/2, 33 months, and 2 1/2.

I'm crazy. But that is okay. Some day soon I'll post some e-mail I have sent to describe how my 3 year old is trying to kill me.

Oh yeah, my favorite actor is Paul Sorvino. I don't know why, but oh man. Some women swoon over George Clooney, or Brad Pitt, or Clark Gable (for the older gals), Me? I'm all about the old Italian guy. Did you see "Goodfellas?" Forget Ray Liotta, and DeNiro is so overrated, but his turn as Paully, the boss......yeah baby.

I'm serious. It's in my blog description, I mean it. I wonder when his lawyers will put out a cease and desist order. Oh well.

Hmmmm, guess that is all I have for today. My son has just advised me that whales don't eat hamburgers, they eat fish. My moment of silence is at an end.