Saturday, June 27, 2009

And now you know....the rest of the story

A little later, Q'Deisha comes up to me and asks if I got a plastic water jug (any of you who have been to the hospital anytime recently will know what I'm talking about). I said that there had been one sitting on my side table when I came in. She threw her hands up, all frustrated and said “MAN! They din't give me ANYTHING when I come in here. No water cup, none of 'em bath thingy's either! That really pisses me off!” (Apparently the $300 worth of food she ate doesn't count for anything) She stomps out of the room, her IV pole wheeling along behind her. Next thing you know, here she is with her arms LOADED down with a drug store beauty aisle. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, gels, creams, cotton balls, q-tips, YOU NAME IT she had it. She dumped them all out on her bed and asked if I wanted anything.(Besides a new roommate?) “They's hardly ever lock it. You can just get 'em yourself at that one closet.” (The one marked “authorized personnel only”?) “Nah. I think I'll be fine.”

10 minutes later, as my medicine is starting to kick in again, and I'm starting to forget I'm rooming with a psych ward overflow, she comes over to my window and said, “Get up and look at this!” “I'm really not feeling....” “No, I mean GET UP. Look over there. See that? That there car, right over there?” “Yup.” I replied, not even getting my glasses on. “I see...that one, right?”, I say, pointing indiscriminately at the parking lot as a whole. “Yeah! That's right. That there's my car. I need my cell phone out of it.” She stared at me as if I was going to jump right up and offer to go get it for her. “Ooookay.” I responded. “I NEED my phone.” she repeated again, looking at me. “Oh.” What, are you KIDDING ME? I almost offered to go get it, if for no other reason than to get away from her. Apparently she took the hint, and went to her bed, sitting on the side facing me. I turned over to avoid her, but she didn't get the hint. I doubt she'd take a hint from anything less than a baseball bat. “I'm going to go down there.” she finally said, her eyes boring into the back of my head. “Umm.” I replied as unenthusiastically as I could. “You won't tell nobody will you?” Apparently she didn't think the hospital gown and IV pole dragging along behind her would give her away. “I'm sleeping.” I said back. She left and was back just a few minutes later. They “caught her” she said. Oh good. They caught her and brought her BACK. Isn't there like a hospital “holding cell” you could keep her in, just till I'm released, maybe? Well, not one to be defeated, she “tried again”. She had been gone about an hour when the nurse came into the room for, meds. Oh, sweet medication, if I ever needed you, it was this hospitalization! “Where'd Q'Deishe go?” the nurse asked. This was the same nurse that laughed under her breath at my earlier situation, so I wasn't about to help her out, either. “Who? What? I have no idea what you're talking about. I need my pain meds. And my nausea medicine.” “Do you know where she went?” the nurse continued (Besides off the deep end), “HM.” was all I replied. “She does this every time she comes in” A-HA! So she IS a “frequent flayer” and they probably HAVE seen her pull this stuff on her other roommates. Man, must be a slow day at the nurse's station to need this entertainment. A few moments later I hear over the hospital intercom “Q'Deisha blah blah...Please return to your room” No, really, take your time...days if necessary.

Well, about 20 minutes later Q'Deisha came back inside and over to my side of the bed. She CLOSED the curtain separating our beds, however she was still on my side. “Man, there was this security guard who don't know what he talkin' about. He thinks he saw me all goin to take a smoke, but he don' know WHAT he talkin' about. Man! I just going to get my cell phone and he all callin' up to the nurses station like I been' doin' something wrong! Hey, smell my hands. I'm right handed, so if I smoked, I'd smoked 'em with this hand, they don't smell like smoke do they?” she demanded shoving her right hand under my nose. I've had a great fear of smelling hands after having several kids shoving their “just down their pants” hands under my nose. I wasn't too thrilled to be smelling hers either. “Nope. They don't smell like smoke.” I said. She seemed satisfied. “See! I's told 'em! Smell these too!” she said, obviously feeling more confident, and shoving her left hand under my nose. “OH YEAH! Those smell like smoke!” I replied. “Well, he couldn've seen that I was smokin' and he has NO RIGHT to blame me for smokin' we he DON'T KNOW if I was smokin' or NOT!” She threw the curtain back with all of it's maddening screeching (now becoming one of her trademark moves) and starts SCREAMING at no one about how unjustly she's being treated. She picked her phone up and called...someone...and starts ranting and raving about how they're blaming her for smoking when they don't even know if she was...blah..blah...blah (or I should say BLAH!!!!BLAH!!!!BLAH!!!! which was more like it). I mean she was SCREAMING at this point. She called the nurses in and was crying and ranting and demanding to see her doctor about this injustice. In the meantime, I was laying in my bed preparing my simple, but effective speech, and getting my nerves up for when she asked me if she was out smoking. I was all ready “Absolutely you were. Told me where you were going, and even had me smell your hands when you got back. Smooooooking. Yep, you sure were.” Apparently, I had enough drugs in my system to be brave and truthful. Unfortunately, she never gave me the chance. She called her doctor in (who ever knew that there were doctors without spines out there?) who after listening to her rant and rave for over ½ hour, agreed to let her go outside for a smoke break three times a day. Was that enough? Ohhhhh no, now she wanted 4 smoke breaks, and they had to be at least an hour long because it took her almost 15 minutes for her just to get downstairs. (Well, yeah, if your sneaking around trying not to get caught with an IV pole attached- maaaaybe). The spineless doctor said fine, and Q'Deisha went back to bed where she promptly called the nurse in and demanded more pain and nausea medication.

The final night and day was definitely the kicker. I finally figured out that Q'Deisha didn't like the fan. So, I had the janitors bring up the biggest baddest fan they could find and I blasted it on high the entire time. (Had to ask for a few extra blankets and suffered mild hypothermia, but COMPLETELY worth it). She FINALLY kept the curtains closed! Well, little ole' curtains aren't about to keep someone like Q'Deisha from doing what SHE wanted to do. Around 2 in the morning I woke up to what I thought was a nurse putting more pain medicine into my IV port. Low and behold! It's Q'Deisha messing with my IV tubing!!! Oh yes, my friends. I wake up to see Dr. Kevorkian checkin' to see if I'm ready to meet my maker. “What are you doing?” I asked, rather nicely for someone who just discovered someone else doing what she was doing..which was....what? “Unnnnhhhhh..I'm just fixin' yo tubing. It's all messed up.” I grabbed my IV tubing and said. “It's fine. I'll have a nurse check on it.” I said pushing the nurse button a million times. Well, by the time the nurse finally made it into the room I was asleep again, and by the time I woke up the nurse was in the room with the curtain opened again and Q'Deisha just sittin' in bed smilin'. “You can use lotion in yo hair if you don' have no conditioner, right?” The nurse and I just looked at each other. “Uh. No.” was the nurse's reply. Was this girl for real? “Oh, I jus did and it worked out fine!” I kept trying to get the nurse's attention to tell her about the night before, but no luck. Now I know how a hostage must feel when they go into a convenience store and they try to get someone's attention without getting the kidnapper's attention.

About 15 minutes after the nurse left, my monitor started beeping saying that my IV fluid was low. I pressed the nurse's button (now not expecting a response for anything less than ½ hour) and hit the silent button. It went off a few more times, and I just kept hitting the silent button. It wasn't bothering me, but apparently it was bothering Q'Deisha. She finally gets out of bed in this HUGE HUFF, comes over to my IV computer monitor and starts PRESSING BUTTONS. “Here. Just do this * beep * and then this and this * beep beep beeeeeeep *” ”It's FINE. IT'S FINE. THAT'S OKAY” “Hey. I do this all the time, jus let me...” “NOPE. I'm oooookay. Thanks anyway. Yep, I bet you do. At's okay” Now. I'm not a swearing person. But the only word that kept creeping up into my mind has to do with H, E and two hockey sticks. As in: I'm in ____, where the ____ is the nurse, why the ____ are they keeping me with her....and so on and so forth. I'm sure you get my drift.

Needless to say, I was feeling MUCH better by the doctor's rounds that morning, begging to go home. I knew that I had a much better chance at surviving there than I did in the hospital. About 20 minutes before getting ready to leave, the nurse came in to tell me that they were moving Q'Deisha into another room. WOW!! SO SOON? I wondered. I told the nurses all about the previous nights attempts on my life and the other “incidents”. She just rolled her eyes and said, “Yep. She's in here all the time doing stuff like that.” WHAT A REASSURING THOUGHT!! So, to all of you who might need medical care, I highly recommend avoiding Lutheran Hospital. Or at least Q'Deisha's room.

And so so ends this weeks episode of....these are the crazy days of our lives.

Monday, June 22, 2009

The Asylum Part I

I wasn't originally slated to go to the loony bin, but I'm pretty sure that's where I ended up based on my roommate. Here's the story:

When I first arrived, my roommate was a lovely woman In her early 100s with coke bottle glasses and very little movement. We got along quite well. However, things quickly changed on day 2 when she went home and in come Q'Deisha (we'll call her).

I should have known from the beginning it was going to be interesting, but little could I ever expect what was about to come....

As soon as she was sliding into bed she asked me for my menu. I was happy to oblige, and handed it over. She then called down to the cafeteria and ordered a meal fit for....well a BUFFET. I'm pretty sure the call would have been shorter if she just would have ordered one of everything. After she hangs up, she looks at me and says “How old are you?” I said (quickly doing the math), “35”. “Good.” She responded. Good what? I wondered. “Do you have any cigarettes?” she asked. “Nope.” I replied, hitting my narc button a few more times. “Awww. Too bad.” Apparently we wouldn't be smoking buddies.

Well, her banquet came up a short time later, and apparently it wasn't quite up to snuff. She started arguing, quite loudly, with the poor old lady that came up to deliver it. “WHY would I just order PLAIN English muffins? NO ONE orders PLAIN English muffins. I AXED for JELLY and BUTTER wit' dem muffins! Why can't nobody get these things RIGHT?!!! (Gee, perhaps because it was #48 on a list of 73 items you ordered so quickly they couldn't keep up with you. And, hey, I'd order a whole boat load of plain English muffins if I could cram them all into your mouth at one time just to get you to shut your.....muffin hole.)

Apparently, she sent the poor lady back down to get some jelly and butter, and while she's stuffing her...muffin hole the nurse walks in. IMMEDIATELY she begins “axing” the nurse for some pain medicine, and then, while she's STUFFING HER FACE WITH FOOD tells her that she wants her nausea medicine!! I heard that and I needed MY nausea medicine.

Well, I'm settling down, starting to feel the effects of my meds taking the pain away, when the curtain between us FLIES open with this lovely metallic SCRREEEEECCCHHHH. “I'm claustrophobic so I can't have this curtain closed.” she announces to me. “You don't mind, do you?” What am I going to say? Hey, I saw her take down the lunch lady, who am I to argue with her over the curtain. “Nope.” I said, trying to find a way to sink myself into the hospital bed until I become invisible. Didn't work. Moments later, she came up to my bed and said “Come here, I need you to help me with this.” I'm trying to discreetly hit my nurses button a hundred times. Apparently (like crosswalk buttons) it doesn't bring anything any quicker if you press it REEEEEAL hard. Just makes your IV arm hurt. “Uh. Isn't there a nurse to help you?” “Awwww, no. They's all too busy.” She says depositing an armload of tape, bandages and swabs onto my bed. “I'ms a gonna take a shower, and 'dis here cain't get wet, so's I needs you to tape it up good for me.” And down drops the right side of her gown. Not prepared to see someone's...uh...”eggs over-easy”...I think my jaw hit the floor before her gown did. She starts handing me the stuff, and I'm trying to do this with one finger on each hand, not wanting to make contact with...well, with anything to be honest with you. I kept looking longingly over at the nurses button WILLING it to ring LOUDER at their desk. Just as I'm...uh....”rounding the yolk”, the nurse walks in. I look at her with eyes PLEADING for help. She took one look at me, and...I swear...was busting up laughing internally. I almost heard her think 'I see Ms. Q'Deisha found herself another sucker'. I finished up and hit the bed before I heard her scream at the nurse- “I need my pain medicine and nausea medicine too!” Hey, while you're at it could you get me something to erase the last two hours of my memory? Perhaps something that will leave me comatose.....or HER!

This doesn't even conclude our first day....oh yes, it gets better (or worse, depending on who you are).

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

This is very Private

This is my first day home from another week in the hospital (which I will blog about AT LENGTH as soon as my blogging strength is up. It is quite the story, trust me.).
I woke up this morning to Ava yelling - "Aidan Where are your PRIVATE PLACES?!!" It took a moment for me to comprehend what she was asking, and not completely sure that Aidan wouldn't just comply to keep her quiet, I shake myself awake to make sure I'm understaning this exchange correctly. Then she yells (like a good tatteling little sister "MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM Aidan won't show me his PRIVATE PLACES!" I yelled back "Ava! Private places are anything that your bathing suit covers!!" (We're yelling because were several rooms apart) She comes into my room and tells me "But I want to see Aidan's private places and he won't let me!" (I'm gone 6 days and my children have gone to hell in a handbasket. What next? Vodka in the cheerios?) "Ava, only Mommy, Daddy, and the doctors are allowed to look at your private places." I explained. She just stared at me like I was an idiot. Not a far stretch, I'm sure. "But Mommy, how am I supposed to find him when he hides?"

Give a little bit and you'll get it.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

The Mollies

Okay, I'm trying to download a videolink of The Mollies video from Youtube, but I think I'm failing miserably. Me and computers- a match made ...... never.

Not quite a year

Well, well, well. Three holes in the ground.

Yep, it's been a while. I'd love to tell you it was a year filled with a whole bunch of nothing, but who would really believe that? We'll let it all dribble out slowly in the upcoming posts.

You must really give me more credit this time around, however. I'm dealing with dial-up, so each painful posts takes about 1/2 to one hour to complete (if it doesn't decide to poop out on me before that). In addition, all of the people who are trying to get in touch with me can't because I'm tying up the phone line. Okay, so maybe that's a plus.

Well, we are continuing to settle into our HOME. Yep, H-O-M-E. We knew it was our from the very first basement flood. We like to think of it as "baptizing the home". We are just finishing up the downstairs "scary" bathroom- not so scary anymore, and what used to be the icky laundry room and funky extra room with no door (now a larger laundry/closet room where ALL of the kids clothes get hung and stored). We're trying to finish the basement to the best of our ability before Scott's parents come at the beginning of July. Really they're just an excuse to get things hurried up and moved along downstairs. Nothing like company coming over to get you motivated to clean!

Well, Friday we have our first garage sale at our home. We're getting rid of most of our dressers and bigger furniture hoping to raise some money to put a floor in downstairs (and maybe even fill up the propane tank!). We'll keep you updated and let you know how it goes. The kids are in the front yard right now "washing" some of the things we're selling. My guess is that they're soaking wet, and the items are completely dry- and still dirty. Oh the fun of a garden hose.

Hey! I just signed up for facebook (which I swore I would never do), but it won't let me request any more friends, so....if you're not yet me friend and want to be, you'll have to request it!

One more thing!! I've heard of a GREAT new indie group called "the Happies" (they also go by the name "The Mollies". You can download some of their songs, and even watch one of their videos (Float My Boat) on youtube. I'll try and attach,'s dial goes:

I happen to know one of the cutie lead singers. Actually know three of the singers, just don't know how cute the others are.