Monday, April 30, 2007

But more importantly:

I life my glass of wine and toast my sister Susan who would have been 53 today if she had not been taken from us so tragically 15 years ago.
I hate the money gods, hate them hate them hate them. Why can they just not leave me alone?

And all because I paid off 2 credit cards with our income tax return.

First my car dies (last week) and now Arthur gets attacked by a cat and has a gigantic abscess above his eye and is at the vets where he will be for days and probably require surgery to close the quarter size wound. The good news is that so far it looks like no nerve damage has been done after she squeezed nearly a quarter cup of puss out of the wound, the bad news is that it's going to cost nearly $800.

I feel spent - emotionally and financially. All I wanted to do was buy a dress for Dave and Jody's wedding and curtains and a rug for my bedroom. Though I still may get the rug, it's only $150 at Canadian Tire (a shag by Debbie Travis). And I can probably find curtains at Ikea that will block the light from pouring in to my room at too early of an hour.

What am I thinking! I must drink my wine and consider this carefully. Put a cheque together for Dave & Jody's wedding present, wear old Comrag skirt and older shoes with even older black shell. Roll pennies and cash in wine/beer bottles.

And yell "Fuck off money gods, find someone else's strings to pull for a while!"

Thursday, April 26, 2007

The Gods are playing with my emotions again...and my bank account.

Ellie Escort had to go back to the shop, this time for electrical problems. The mechanic called with reservation saying that the cost to fix the old girl will be more than she's worth but fortunately the bill was under $400, unfortunate to think the car isn't worth that much.

With any luck we can squeeze one more year out of her and then find a replacement.

But really, this couldn't happen at a worse time and I'm sure it's because I just dumped Paul's and my combined income tax refund on to our credit cards that it is happening.

I spent the morning at the hospital for my post op appointment where the surgeon painstakingly removed the stitches with tweezers and scissors. It's surreal watching this happen to my body when I have no sensation. I can kind of feel pulling but no pain - and from the look of it, it should have hurt a bit. Especially when small little wounds reopened. I felt a bit queazy afterwards like I had just participated in a sleazy reality show.

Pat's coming over to dye my hair and bringing her entire family to watch. See, once again, I'm part of a sleazy reality show.

Monday, April 16, 2007

I'm home again, recovering from my second surgery. I knew it was going to hurt but it knocked me out more than I expected. I thought I'd be back at work today and instead slept until 11am.

Going back to Easter weekend, pre-surgery, I had my neighbours William & Brenda and their adorable little boy Aidan (not quite 2) for dinner and an Easter egg hunt.

A picture of Satchel egg hunting, Jakob with his loot from the Easter Bunny, and finally Jakey playing with Aidan.

While we ate dinner (my first attempt at a pot roast EVER and in a never-before-used slow cooker - I'm hooked), the kids, while playing together, shut the barn door and then it was stuck with Jakob trapped in the kitchen. We take a look to find the barn door broken and off it's tracks. So either Aidan is the most powerful 2 year old in the world or the door was installed incorrectly, lasting only a couple of months and during that time was rarely.

The powder room door no longer opens all the way unless forced and is now gouging the floor and the door leading to the basement barely catches and during the winter doesn't catch at all. The three doors that were "custom" and cost us an absolute fortune all need to be fixed.

Paul left a message for J*** early last week and we were told that Tim would come the following morning to assess what needed to be done - he didn't show. Paul calls J*** to find out where Tim is and he says "yeah, Tim called in sick, I was just about to call you. We'll arrange for tomorrow." So now it's been a week with no Tim and no follow-up from J***. Paul's calling him again today. It will be interesting to see how J*** reacts to follow-up work once he's been paid. Considering what an ass he was at the end of the job, I'm not optimistic.

Next chapter: the surgery.

Last Wednesday I had my 2nd surgery for the reconstruction and as I mentioned before, it hurt a lot. The surgery started an hour late and lasted just over an hour. The nurse that installed my IV did a terrible job and on her second attempt I mouthed "help me" to Paul. Dr. Lipa came in with her team of 3 and marked me up so once again I felt like a nip/tuck episode and you can still see the faint direction and arrow pointing to my navel. Sadly Christian was no where to be found.

The Princess Margaret hospital was fabulous. When I checked in I was directed to a private room to wait until it was time for me to go to pre-op. This was also the room I returned to and spent the night. It was amazing - except for the horrible decor and terrible food, I felt like I was in a hotel room. It was quiet, had a nice western view. Because the surgery wasn't as serious as the last one I wasn't bothered at night with nurses checking my vitals every hour and there was no intercom system where I would hear the paging of nurses or frantic announcements of code blue. I had so many flannel blankets that I stayed cocooned in one position the entire night, alternating between admiring the city view and sleep.

But now I'm home and I'm still sore. My hand is throbbing. My throat is sore - I initially attributed this to the breathing tube during surgery but now I wonder if I'm instead succumbing to something. I wonder if I'm depressed and if that's contributing to my excessive sleeping coupled with the sleep helping with recovery and pain management. Only pajamas and track pants are comfortable so I haven't left the house and can't figure out what I will wear to work.

I finally braved a shower on Saturday and removed all my bandages and saw myself for the first time. I should do it again today and have another shower but even though I've now seen myself, I don't feel brave enough to do it again. I think instead I'll go watch Volver with Penelope Cruz.

Flowers from Paul (with a shot of my 2 sputniks):

Thursday, April 05, 2007

Part 2 of my reconstruction surgery has been scheduled for next Wednesday. It should be reasonably harmless - I liken it to a 2-hour nap. I should be home by nightfall - or the next morning. Hopefully not a night visit - the food doesn't exactly draw you back in. But the prescription drugs do!

When the surgeon's office first called yesterday to inform me of the date, I have to admit I was thrown. I liken the surgery to child birth but I haven't had the luxury of having a couple of years pass by to dull the memory of the pain. 4 months means everything, in all it's glory, is still very fresh in my mind.

I look forward to having it over, then it's only a tattooing left. I'll have to suggest to Dr. Lipa that she sign me, after all she did rebuild me - just like Steve Austin or Jamie Summers but without the sound effects.