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Making a change

One of my goals has long been to lose weight. It’s not much when you look at the big picture of things, but it’s something I’ve been struggling with because of work and family obligations and my consistently slipping off the diet. (Comfort food is too comforting!) I came to the decision that I can’t do this alone and today took a first step in a new direction. I met with a personal trainer where I’ve been going (or rather, haven’t been going) to work out.

Getting all of my proper measurements done and putting my goals in writing helped more than I realized. I feel really good about this. They’re going to set me up with a couple of people to work with. Learn how to work out and use weights properly. Learn what kind of diet I ~should~ be eating. I’ll be accountable for something, I’ll have to show up on the days I have committed whether I feel like working out or not. They’ll also be on me to come in and work out even on days I don’t work with a trainer.

I’m essentially paying someone to nag me.

And I feel good about this. It’s going to be hard as Hell. My body and my fat are really good friends. They’re not going to want to separate.

I’ve been working very hard to re-organize other parts of my life. It’s about time I started taking care of my health. My headaches are getting worse because of the stress. Getting back down to a healthy weight would help minimize my pain, and would give me another outlet for stress. Most of all, I want this. I want my pre-wedding body back. I want to be able to run up a half dozen flights of stairs and not feel like I’m going to pass out. I want to start kickboxing again.

I want to feel better. And I should’ve done this a long time ago.

Wish me luck!

Humpday Hilarities

Today’s funnies start off with these gems from Cookie:

A “different” Creation explanation

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

Then using God’s great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream and Krispy Creme Donuts. And Satan said, “You want chocolate with that?” And Man said, “Yes!” and Woman said, “and as long as you’re at it, add some sprinkles.” And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled.

And God created the healthful yogurt that Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size 14.

So God said, “Try my fresh green salad.” And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.

God then said, “I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them.” And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof. God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it “Angel Food Cake,” and said, “It is good.” Satan then created chocolate cake and named it “Devil’s Food.”

God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels. And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.

Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds.

God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald’s and its 99-cent double cheeseburger. Then said, “You want fries with that?” And Man replied, “Yes! And super size them!” And Satan said, “It is good.” And Man went into cardiac arrest.

God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.

Then Satan created Cuts to the Health Care System.

Amen.

I’d like to point out that:

In 2011, both Groundhog Day and the State of the Union address occur on the same day.

I want to take this time to point out:

It is an ironic juxtaposition of events; one involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence and competence for prognostication, while the other involves a groundhog.

And last but certainly not least is a football-related funny from Jeff, written by Roy Exum for The Chattanoogan:

The Funny Side Of Losing

Of all the post-season bowl games, the one I anticipated the most was Saturday’s Capital One match-up between Alabama and Big Ten co-champ Michigan State, because I figured it would be a great game. Well, it turned out to be a 49-7 rout, which shows how mighty the Crimson Tide can be and how little I know about college football.

The problem is that a lot of Michigan State fans thought the same thing, as you’ll see in a minute. MSU, winning a share of the first Big 10 title in 20 years, had high hopes, but on a cold afternoon when the Big 10 would go 0-5 on New Year’s Day, the 24/7 message board on a Michigan State booster website during the game was hysterical.

Understand, the game was a mockery, grown men playing havoc with mere children. Alabama seemed to score at will, striking on the first five possessions while dominating the Spartans so badly on defense, MSU had only 171 yards in total offense compared to the Crimson Tide’s 543. MSU left the field with minus-47 yards rushing in the most lop-sided Orlando bowl ever.

Michigan State quarterback Kirk Cousins was sacked four times, finally leaving the game in the fourth quarter with “a severe headache.” After drumming up a 28-0 halftime lead, Alabama played mostly subs the second half – you get the picture, right?

Michigan State coach Mark Dantonio, who had whined before the game that his team wasn’t getting enough respect, said afterwards, “We were outcoached, we were outplayed, and we were out-physicaled and that’s just the way it is. Sometimes, you get an avalanche come on you and that’s just what happened.”

But the Spartans’ fans said it better. Allow me to share the MSU message board during the game:

“Julio takin’ us to schoolio.” (just after Alabama wide receiver Julio Jones ran 35 yards for a touchdown on a reverse.)

“Why are they allowing Alabama to play with 35 players on defense?”

“I think their punter is currently drinking around the world in Epcot.” (Alabama didn’t punt until midway through the third quarter).

“If we played 10 times, they would win 15.”

“If Cam Newton costs $200,000 for a season, how much is a 2nd half rental?”

“…and now Cousins is dead.” (referring to MSU’s starting QB after the fourth sack)

“If I was our QB I would hire an attorney and sue them for negligence or intentional infliction of physical and emotional distress.”

“I’m ready to accept MSU boosters paying for an offensive line. If we get caught I can deal with it.”

“This is getting out of hand…an Alabama defensive lineman just popped out of my TV and threw me 10 yards behind my couch.”

“Do you think this is how Custer felt?”

“We’re going to have a wing named after us at Orlando Regional Medical Center by the time this game finishes.”

“This is embarrassing. So are we officially a basketball school again?”

“I want to know how many times in the history of organized football that teams have punted on 4th and goal”

“So this is what they mean by team speed.”

“If I’m (Andrew) Maxwell, I fake an injury on the way to the huddle.” (referring to the MSU freshman backup QB, who was knocked out of the game three plays later).

It’s just like Mark Twain once said, “Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritations and resentments slip away and a sunny spirit takes their place.”

Excellent article, Roy!

Humpday Hilarities

Today’s funny is courtesy of my mother:

Dear Diary,

For Christmas this year, my husband purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.

Although I am still in great shape since being a cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.

I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.

Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress…

________________________________

MONDAY:

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god — with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!

Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!

Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!

________________________________

TUESDAY:

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It’s a whole new life for me.

_______________________________

WEDNESDAY:

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.

Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.

My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why the heck would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. Blah, blah, blah.

_______________________________

THURSDAY:

Butthole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late — it took me that long to tie my shoes.

He took me to work out with dumbbells.. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me.

Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.

_________________________________

FRIDAY:

I hate that demon Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.

Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the darn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.

The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

________________________________

SATURDAY:

Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

________________________________

SUNDAY:

I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

Here’s to hope

2009 was definitely “The Year of the Suck” (personally speaking). I’ve found myself looking forward to the new year in hope of a lot of positive changes coming our way. And I’d have to say that 2010 has had a promising start already. New Year’s Day we visited with friends and family that we haven’t seen in ages. On the 2nd we honored a friend who’s home on leave from Iraq with a LAN party. Yesterday we pretty much vegged and today I’m back at work, but I guess I can’t complain too much about that. I have a job, and know many who are still looking (including my husband).

I’ve spent the last couple months realizing and appreciating the things for which I am truly grateful. I have a husband and daughter who love me. We have a roof over our heads and food on the table. I have wonderful and supportive friends and loved ones. I have a job. I have hope … I hold on to faith that things will work out in the end — even if I can’t see how they will or am desperately afraid that they won’t.

This is the time of year most people make their resolutions, right? I see many things I don’t like about myself or my life that I’d like to change.

The “musts”

The “might actually get done soon”

The “would like’s”

So here’s to a new year, and to hope. I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me.

Humpday Hilarities

This first funny is courtesy of my mother:

Better than a Flu Shot

Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a glass bowl sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom!

When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist.

‘Miss Beatrice’, he said, ‘I wonder if you would tell me about this?’ pointing to the bowl.

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, ‘Isn’t it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven’t had the flu all winter!’

And this one came to me from Pam L. Mack and her Irish grandfather:

An Englishman, a Irishman and a Scott walked into a pub. Each ordered one pint of beer. A fly landed in each and every beer.

The Englishman turned green and pushed his beer away asking for another one.

The Scottsman took the fly out, shrugged and drank his beer.

The Irish man pinched the fly between his fingers and yelled, “SPIT IT OUT! SPIT IT OUT!”

This is courtesy of Not Always Right (thank you, Mara! )

A Smokin’ Deal

(A customer comes to me with a package of brownies with a “Special!” sticker on the top.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss?”

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Why are these brownies “special”?”

Me: “They’re the bakery’s special of the week. They’re on sale now through Saturday.”

Customer: “So, there’s nothing different about them?”

Me: “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Customer: *winking* “They’re not…’special’ brownies?”

Me: “Oh! No, sorry, they’re just normal brownies.”

Customer: “Never mind, then.” *sets down the container and walks away*

Humpday Hilarities

This one is courtesy of my friend Joseph:

I recently asked my friends’ little girl what she wanted to be when she grows up. She said she wanted to be President some day. Both of her parents, liberal Democrats, were standing there, so I asked her, ‘If you were President what would be the first thing you would do? ‘

She replied, ‘I’d give food and houses to all the homeless people.’

Her parents beamed.

‘Wow…what a worthy goal.’ I told her, ‘But you don’t have to wait until you’re President to do that. You can come over to my house and mow the lawn, pull weeds, and rake my yard, and I’ll pay you $50. Then I’ll take you over to the grocery store where the homeless guy hangs out, and you can give him the $50 to use toward food and a new house. ‘

She thought that over for a few seconds, then she looked me straight in the eye and asked, ‘ Why doesn’t the homeless guy come over and do the work, and you can just pay him the $50?

I said, ‘Welcome to the Republican Party.’

Her parents still aren’t speaking to me.

And this one is courtesy of Don:

Women’s Yearly Exam

I went to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse started with certain basics.

“How much do you weigh?” she asked. “135,” I said. The nurse put me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.

The nurse asked, “Your height?”

“5 foot 4,” I said. The nurse checked and saw that I only measure 5′ 2″.

She then took my blood pressure and told me that it is very high. “Of course it’s high!” I screamed, ‘When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I’m short and fat!”

She put me on Prozac. What a bitch!

It’s What They Don’t Tell You

Well, it’s been an interesting experience. I learned that no matter how many times you re-read the literature the doctors give you, talk to friends who’ve had a procedure done, or ask questions of anything and everything you can think of … you’ll still learn a few things. If you’ve ever had any kind of surgery done, some of this is nothing new to you, but it was very new to me and I’d like to share a few things I’ve learned from my surgery and the time spent recovering from it, along with a few things nobody told me. (and partly glad they didn’t! LOL!!)

Waiting, and Pre-Op

It doesn’t matter what time you are scheduled to come in and be admitted, you will still sit and wait. And generally, the length of your wait is proportional to how hungry you are. I remember by the time I was taken to Pre-Op, I was absolutely starving; and I happily shared this with anyone that asked. I remember one staffer who kept walking by who smelled of peanut butter — that drove me nuts!

A few minutes later I was presented an odd purple paper gown and some non-slip socks, and was given instructions as to how to strip down and in which bags each article of clothing should go. It’s not rocket science, but my attention span was already significantly lessened due to my anxiety, and was gone altogether once the nurse showed me where to hook up “the hose.”

Get this … they have a warming unit which connects to the gown via a plastic hose. It was pretty neat, though once I got the air going at the temp I wanted, the gown quickly filled up and inflated, making me feel like I was wearing one of those inflatable sumo wrestler suits. Jim snickered and told me that I looked like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka, and started snapping a few pictures.

Yeah, I was ready for him to go back to the waiting room at that point.

Aggravations aside, I really WAS glad that Jim was there with me. My parents had also shown up (despite my protests against this) and waited patiently out in the main lobby.

Needles!!!

So the time came near to move me to the OR. Another nurse came by to check my blood pressure and pulse again, and was preparing to insert my IV. She commented that my heart rate was “a little high.” I told her that it’s normal, my heart rate has always been “a little high.” She and I go back and forth about this for a little bit until she says, “No, it’s REALLY high!”

My anxiety was already through the roof and at this point, I was nearing panic. The fact that she was holding the really big needle that she was preparing to jab into my arm didn’t help much!

She looks at my face a little funny and asks, “Are you nervous?”

Ding! Ding! Ding! Tell her what she’s won, Bob!

She then pulls out another syringe and tells me that she’s giving me something to “numb” me a bit. It was a much smaller and shorter needle, and honestly after that, I really didn’t care what else she put into me.

Hooray for good drugs!

Not long after I had my IV, my surgeon popped in and asked me if I was ready. At this point, Jim gives me a reassuring arm squeeze and kiss and is directed back to the waiting room. I was wheeled into the operating room and moved from the gurney to the table. A mask was placed over my mouth and someone told me they were giving me “some oxygen.”

And that’s it.

The next thing I know, I’m semi-awake in another room. I remember falling in and out of consciousness and though I can remember seeing a clock, the minutes seemed to pass like seconds. Every time I opened and closed my eyes, 10-15 minutes had passed. Oh, and pretty much everyone that walked by said, “Wake up!”

That got annoying. I really, REALLY wanted to go back to sleep!

I was wheeled into the recovery room and soon after I remember seeing Jim walking down the hallway. I wanted to yell, “Hey baby! Over here! I’m OK!”

All that came out was: “Yeeeep.”

I’m pretty sure I waved at him, but things are a little blurry there. I remember my throat hurting quite a bit. Everyone had told me that I’d have a sore throat when I woke up because they put in a breathing tube. (And I’m thankful it was removed before I woke!)

Tolerate the drink

I’ll say this: once you are in Recovery, you are expected to do only a few things in order to be released:

• Stay awake.
• “Tolerate” liquids. (meaning, keep them down)
• Go pee.

I was having trouble with the first two. There was a monitor hooked up to me so that every time my breathing was shallow (i.e. I was nodding off), it would start beeping really loudly — which scared the ever living shit out of me every damned time!

Secondly, one of the nurses kept shoving a Coke and crackers under my nose, telling me to eat and drink. Despite how hungry I said I was before the operation, I was definitely NOT hungry then! I guzzled the Coke and managed to chew a couple of crackers, which made her very happy. She suggested I try going to the restroom, so I sat up … and then the floor started bobbing and weaving and I turned a little green.

I buzzed the nurse and told her, “I’m feeling very nauseous!” She gave me this really neat thing. I don’t know its official name, but I’ve been calling it the collapsible barf bag, because that’s exactly what it was. I remember thinking, “Hey, I’d like to play with one of these,” when … one of my puny crackers came back to visit.

Yep, apparently the anesthesia made me very, VERY sick.

It was mostly air though, which was a good thing. (I remember being told that they would fill my tummy with air. Was the Coke really a good idea after that?) Despite being a little embarrassed because I was squawking like a duck, I decided that then was a good time to find the restroom. Jim insisted on helping me walk — which was a good thing because I was surprised to find that my legs just didn’t feel much like cooperating at that time. LOL!

Once in the restroom, after assuring Jim that I could make it to the toilet by myself (after all, the wall was holding me up!), I was delighted to find that I could pee. I remember thinking, “I can go home now. Hooray!” There was no more horking or squawking like a duck after that point, so I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I mostly dressed myself. Jim was such a big help, and I was really grateful to have him there. (even in spite of the jokes)

I was coerced into a wheelchair and taken to the main lobby. Honestly, I had originally protested this, but Heaven only knows how I would have walked there considering that moving at all was a challenge even WITH someone there helping me! LOL

Going home

The trip home was pretty uneventful. I remember talking to Jim about stuff, but have no recollection of what or who we talked about. I vaguely remember picking up my prescription — my surgeon prescribed Percocet for the pain.

Um, yeah. More on that in a sec.

Once again, I was feeling pretty proud of myself; having made it this far without hurling again must mean I was doing well, right? Before we left, I had asked the nurse if I could have another collapsible barf bag to take with me. She thought that was a good idea — I really just wanted to play with it once I felt sober. It turns out, I needed it after all.

We had entered our subdivision and were going slowly through the round-about to the mailbox to grab the mail. We were a whole 15 feet from the house and I lost it. Let’s just say that my stomach was completely empty by the time I was done. Poor Jim was a bit lost and wasn’t sure what I wanted him to do. (Just keep the car still!) I remember being disappointed that I couldn’t play with the collapsible barf bag, but was glad that I had snagged it. (else my car would now be a bit stinky)

We got in and got settled, and I don’t remember much else about that day. I remember being too afraid to eat because of the day’s earlier events and getting up to go to the bathroom was a real adventure (as I was still a bit loopy from the anesthesia and my legs were only semi-cooperating). Jim was a real champ though, anytime I needed anything he got it with no fuss. If I so much as sat up or moved as if I was going to get up, he was quick with a “What are you doing? Where are you going? What do you need?”

It was nice … and obviously a sign that I was still loopy, because any other time I’m all about getting things done myself.

Meds

I took my Percocet like a good girl over the next couple of days and slept pretty much all day Thursday and Friday. I remember the phone ringing a lot. Friends and family called to check on me. (thanks!) I’m pretty sure I was nice to everyone. (sorry if I wasn’t, I blame the drugs! )

I remember speaking to my surgeon’s office and the hospital. I think I told them that everything was “OK” — well, it was sort of. I realized a couple days later that the Percocet really didn’t do anything for my pain. It just made me a little dizzy and REALLY sleepy. Had I been a little more sober, I would have told my doctor this and asked for something better.

My advice to you: be frank with your doctor! If you’re in pain, tell him/her!

It’s not terribly unbearable, but it hurts a bit to bend over or twist. (And getting into the car this morning was interesting. Heh.) I stopped taking my Percocet this weekend and all the grogginess is gone. The pain is still there, but it’s gradually getting better. (and I was told it would gradually go away within the next week or so, so this is not unusual)

I don’t have to do it all myself

Let’s face it, I’m a stubborn woman. I’m all about doing things myself and will only ask for help when absolutely necessary. My husband knows this, and it’s a wonder that he married me anyway. I can honestly say that having Jim home has been a real blessing. He helped me get around when I needed it and took over the household details that I normally handled on the day-to-day. He made sure that Jessie ate good meals, did her chores when needed, and took care of me.

I’m a lucky woman.

Post-op diet

A quick word on this. All of the literature I had received beforehand told me that I needed to be on a liquid diet, moving to soft foods after a week or so. I didn’t care too much for this because let’s face it, the only thing “liquid” that I could have that I enjoyed was jell-o, and even that gets old after one or two meals. I had asked my surgeon during Pre-Op about this and felt pretty smug when he told me that I could eat whatever I “felt up to.”

After I got home, I realized why the literature and everyone else had recommended a liquid diet. When your guts hurt so bad that even moving is too much to handle, you don’t even want to THINK about having to go to the bathroom and do ANYTHING but pee!

Let’s just say that my meal choices became very “selective” after this realization.

Recovering, and thank God for drugs!

Welp, I made it through the surgery OK. My stint in the recovery room took a little longer than expected because the anesthesia made me sick, so they wouldn’t let me leave until I felt that I could keep the coke and crackers they kept shoving under my nose down. (and I almost made it home … incidentally, their collapsible barf bags are neat!) They gave me Percocet, so as long as I keep taking a couple every few hours, I don’t really feel too much pain. Though for some unGodly reason, I thought I could work from home today and tomorrow — what was I thinking? LOL! It hurts to sit up, so I’m taking today off too, and maybe tomorrow, we’ll have to see. Jim was nice enough to set my laptop up by our bed, so I can lay here and surf and type during my “awake times”, hehehe.

So, yeah, I’m doing OK. Moving around hurts like hell, so I’m pretty much just staying in bed (though getting up to go to the bathroom is an adventure, LOL!). The Percocet makes me a little dizzy, so Jim won’t let me walk anywhere or do anything by myself … which suits me just fine, for now.

Thank you all for the warm wishes. With any luck I’ll be up and about in a few days.

Love!

Nicki

Surgery is next week!

I saw my surgeon yesterday — well, actually I saw tons of people. My surgery is scheduled for next Wednesday morning. I’ve already had my pre-admission blood-work done, talked to the anesthesiologist, spoke with several hospital staff who were going to be involved in various things. I’ve been given a list of medications that I can’t take over the next week — but my daily medications have been OK’d, as well as my migraine pain meds. (which I was worried about because I get a headache when I’m stressed and I’m sure I’ll be a bundle of frayed nerves that day)

I was given a pamphlet called “Understanding Laparoscopic Gallbladder Surgery” … it’s on the gallbladder, what causes gallstones, and what will happen during the surgery, that sort of thing. (and I can’t get over how cartoony this thing is!) I’ve got one of those breathing things (called an Incentive Spirometer) that I’m supposed to start using next week, leading up to the day of the surgery and afterwards. Jim had one when he was in the hospital but had forgotten to bring it home with us.

He wants me to keep mine after the surgery so he can play with it.

I’ve been given some funny looking stuff (chlorhexidine gluconate?) to wash my tummy and surrounding areas with the night before. I have several long lists of things not to do or wear the day of the surgery — no makeup, no jewelry, no bra even! (oh yeah, this is going to be fun) Plus Jim is threatening to bring the video camera just in case the anesthesia makes me loopy. He’s heard stories of how entertaining I was when I had my wisdom teeth cut out and thinks I’ll be “hilarious”. (at this rate, I’m going to leave him at home!)

The surgery I’m having is called a laparoscopic cholecystectomy (removing my gallbladder). It’s an outpatient procedure, so if there are no complications I’ll go home that afternoon.

Thank you all for your advice, warm wishes, and prayers. I really appreciate it.

Update on my health …

I just got off the phone with my doctor’s office, they finally received my test results — I have gall stones, and will need to have them removed. They’ll be referring me to a surgeon, I requested Brookwood Hospital because they took care of Jim when he was there. So I’ll be having surgery, and it’s been recommended that I have it soon.

Not that I want to put it off and risk another attack like last week’s!

Thank you to all who’ve sent warm wishes and prayers. Please continue to keep my family in your thoughts and prayers as well … because Lord help me, I’m about to choke my husband!

Nicki

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