Misty Eyed Moron...

"Who would that be?" you ask. Me. Unbelievable amount of tears that seem to seep out of my eyeballs these days. Make. It. Stop.

This could border on TMI, but if you're a reader of my blog you know that just about nothing is off limits. So here goes.

I had a very easy monthly visit from Aunt Flow. Very easy. All my life, (well okay except in 11th grade when I pretended to have cramps to get out of gym class. Only the gym teacher was also our school nurse who informed me "Exercise is good for cramps.") I had no real issues with Aunt Flow. I was regular, light, and never a moody basket case. Oh I had mood swings, I won't deny that. I was just never that crazy girl who went on an emotional roller coaster during those precious days each month.

Crying was something I left to the serious heartbreaks or losses. And I assure you there were many heartbreaks in high school and college that brought me knee deep in salty tears. Still, I felt I was a strong girl. And as Frankie Valli said, "Big Girls Don't Cry" (or Fergie for you younger crowd...she said it too).

It was rare that I cry in a movie. I left the sniveling to Blueberry. She used to cry when we would watch Little House on the Prairie re-runs in college. After the show I'd shove the box of Kleenex toward her and she'd exclaim, "Pa can always make me cry."

But not me. No way no how. I wasn't a crier.

Until recently.

Apparently by removing certain girl parts certain other parts feel the need to go into overdrive and leak tears. Its insane. I cry at every little thing these days.

Break a nail - I burst into tears.

Stub my toe - I lose it (but it really hurt)

Then I was watching Ellen tonight and she had a 12 year old kid from the Philippines who came out and sang "All By Myself"...it was beautiful...and by the end of the song...weeping.

Watch some stinking hallmark commercial about Thanksgiving and sending a loved one in the war a card -- oh geeze here I go again.

Talk amongst yourselves.

*sniff sniff...
Right. I'm composed.

Now, I am no where near where others are or have been. I can't even imagine going to that place...and if fact just thinking about it makes me cry.


The doctors told me I "could" have some menopausal side affects because the estrogen patch I'm on was such a low dose. When the said "could" I heard "never".

Still, here I am getting ready for bed thinking about all the things that made me tear up a bit today (9 times, but who's counting) and suddenly I realize, my EYES ARE LEAKING AGAIN. ARGH!

On a more positive note, and a note that won't make me cry - I don't think - I have 8 shots left. E-I-G-H-T! But again, who's counting.

I guess this is my life now. Weepy Woman! And the BEST part is I suspect it'll get worst when I'm in my 50's when the real menopause kicks in. Oh that will be just ducky. Can't wait. I've got so much to look forward to.


If you're still reading, stay tuned for my next blog where I discuss my own personal summers that go on too.

I did manage to go into the office today too. I spent 1/2 of the day getting reacquainted with all the old crew at work. It was nice to go in and have conversations with people who actually talked back instead of look at you blankly with their black furry face. I may have over did it. May have. Still it felt good to get out among the living, non crying people.

Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs.

Not too long ago, I "accidentally" dropped the cat down some stairs. It wasn't intentional - I swear. It. Was. An. Accident. I've explained it to him. I baby-ed him after. I would never do something like that intentional.

The cat, on the other hand, has exacted his revenge today. I knew he had been plotting, but never really thought he'd follow through. And yet, today he followed through with his dastardly plan.

Let me back up a bit.

Yesterday I shot a wedding for the first time. Friends of the family had asked my BigBro to shoot their wedding, and he asked me to be his "second". The promise was made way back in like August and I never thought then I'd be recovering from a surgery. Still, I managed to get dressed and off to the wedding (which, by the way was located at the edge of the world - Enumclaw). I spent as long as I felt I could there and headed home early.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I needed rest. So I slept for almost 12 hours, but the afore mentioned cat decided I had had enough sleep (me thinks he may sleep outside tonight).

I had been up for about 2 hours and decided to head upstairs to clean out my belly button. (Side note: not of lint. But rather the incision there is an open wound and requires some maintenance so it doesn't get infected. ) On my way downstairs, the big black beast of burden was "following" me. He loves, LOVES LOVES to run in front of you and stop. No warning, no nothing. Just a dead stop. Normally I have my wits about me and catch his evil plot to trip me and step to the side. Being exhausted and not fully engaged yet, I didn't notice he hadn't moved on to the next step to stop and wait. Instead, I stepped on him. Between his whaling and me trying not to break anything on him, I slipped and took a tumble down about 4 steps.

Hitting the platform my first thought was, "Bring it on. Is that all you got?" Followed by, "Dear God the pain." The cat, meanwhile, was at the bottom of the stairs with a coy almost evil smile on his face rubbing his little paws together in triumph.

I managed to get to my feet and thought it best to head back up stairs to survey the damage. Sore-er now than before, but everything looks okay. The belly button is quite sore and is "leaking" more than normal. I may call the doctor tomorrow. I'm such a pansy.

In other good news, only 11 more shots! Woot Woot!

Oh and my Check Engine light went on in the Stang. Bring it! I can take more. Despite the cats best effort to put me down, I'm not...what else ya got? I'm thinking the world is out to get me right now...must be karma.

Total naps today: zero...something's wrong here

Let it be known by all that today, November 10, be the day I almost blacked out by the number of emails in my two work accounts. I didn't even know Outlook could hold that many emails and not implode. I did manage to get through about 10% of them, the easy ones. And thankfully I had Law & Order: SVU on all day to help me through. Then I had Ellen and her show help me through, then Oprah, then the news...and then I realized there's really nothing on daytime TV.

Shot update:
I know you care. But I've now given myself 5 shots. Five! 10 days ago I never would have imagined giving myself one. It may not seem like too big of a deal to some, and you may be thinking, 'Enough already.' If you are, too bad - my blog my rules (ala Patron Saint). I have a mere 15 more to go, but who's counting. Last nights shot hurt like hell though. I hesitated and stuck the needle in slowly. THAT won't happen again.

Healing Update:
Who knew that healing took so much energy. It saps you. I never really had a reason to think about what the body goes through after surgery, but now that I've had time to think about it, I guess it makes sense. I mean it was used to being a certain way and having a few extra parts, then this big claw came in and rearranged and took a few parts. It's only answer is to take it's own sweet time healing. I'm in the danger zone now though. I feel good, and the pain is minimal, and I think I can do things that I know I shouldn't. I find myself hourly "assuming" I'm well enough - then stop and ask myself if I really should be doing that. Mom would be proud.

Stera-strips Update:
Good god those things stick. Which is their job, but man, do they have to take it so seriously. My finger nail caught one in an attempt to itch the incision (itching apparently means they're healing - who knew?) and tore it a bit...I thought I was going to cry like a baby. I did check though and all my skin still appears to be in tact. The curious Girl in me though wants them to come off so I can actually see the incisions, though admittedly I'm not sure I wouldn't pass out.

Today is brought you by the number two.

Two. That's the number of shots I've given myself. Can you believe it? I certainly can't. I don't even gag a little when I do it. It doesn't hurt and by golly it's almost fun. Okay that last part is a lie, but still I'm super proud of myself for being able to do something I never thought I'd do. It's amazing what one is capable of when one's life is on the line.

Speaking of life lines, thank you to EVERY single one of you who has had me in their thoughts and their prayers. I'm positive all that super charged positive energy has helped me the last couple of days.

It's been two days since the surgery and I'm feeling pretty good. Sore. Very sore at times, but with a little rest and pain medication, all is good in the world. I've not had any weird side effects from the percocet, but I guess is good. I heard so many stories I was a bit scared to even take it.

Surgery day is a blur really. I remember getting up at O' dark what-time? and driving to NW hospital. The parental units are here taking care of me (okay so it's only mom - but who doesn't want their mommy around in times like these?). I sailed through pre-op. Managed to stay engaged even with the check in nurse was having troubles finding a vein on one of my hands. She put this lovely numbing stuff on so I didn't really feel anything but the pressure - which is creepy. The doc stopped by and the last thing I remembered was someone asking if we were good to go. Next thing I know I'm being wheeled past the waiting area and hear my last name called out.

Blueberry and the units met me in my room. I have a vague recollection of talking to them. Overall I felt pretty good. I was uber sore then, but then again...those dandy pain meds.

The staff at Northwest Hospital were fantastic. A great selection nurses and CNAs who had excellent bed side manner. I'll be writing a thank you note to them later this week.

Yesterday I was discharged, only after I passed a few gas bubbles and showed them I could potty all by myself (weird I know). The ride home was miserable. Didn't ever realize how many bumps were in the roads, but man there were a lot.

Slept most yesterday afternoon, and then lazed around today - managed to sneak in a 2 hour nap this afternoon in my busy schedule.

All in all, I feel good. The soreness grows less and less by the day - getting up out of bed or chairs isn't as painful now. The four little open cuts I have are healing - I think. It's hard to see really with the bruising around one of them (they actually went through my belly button - sure hope they cleaned it of all the lint first). My insides seem to be jocky'ing for the new found space. They were rearranging themselves last night. I think my liver has a new address - I'm just sayin'.

So again, thank you all for your support. It means the world to me. I'm sure I'll never be able - oh geez I'm tearing up - stupid hormones - to express how much it has meant to get so many well wishes. You're all the best!

Now if you'll excuse me, I hear my bed calling.

Emptier than I've ever been...

Tomorrow is the big day. As it quickly approaches I'm filled with anxiety and a bit of excitement.

The doctor appt on Monday deemed I was a "perfect" specimen (hey!) for the laparscopic robotic hysterectomy. Lucky me. The doc told me, and I quote, "You're set up perfectly." Who knew I was "set up" perfectly. I would hope I'm "set up" like all women, but maybe I am more different than you all thought.

Two things came out of the appt that didn't please me at all and is the reason for previously mentioned anxiety.

1.) I had to starve myself today by an all liquid diet. AND I had to take some nasty stuff that "tastes like cherry" to clean out my innards. I know TMI, but still.

and

2.) I get to give myself injections for 21 LONG days after the surgery thanks to my blood clot issue I had a few years ago. The doctor doesn't want to take any chances, and while I agree with him, I'm sure modern technology allows for another method to thin my blood. Like, can't I just drink more water? Or can't I take a pill? Why shots? I expressed my concern to him by nearly begging, but he would not be swayed.

The biggest news of the appt was that he will be taking all my girly parts. He wasn't 100% convinced that the ovaries aren't in danger and so thought while he was in there might as well. My sentiments exactly! Naturally my first concern was the steep drop into menopause without my girly parts, but rest assured he had an answer for that too. I get to wear an estrogen patch for 10 more years or however long before I hit menopause.

Now, if you're up on your facts you may know that estrogen was the cause of my blood clots to begin with. They think. I was on birth control pills and we all know those are estrogen. We all do know that right? So he'll be putting me on an extremely low dose. AND apparently taking estrogen orally causes way more problems with clots due to something your liver does or doesn't due in processing (frankly I glazed over when he was telling me). Whereas with the patch, it seeps in through your skin, and it's safer.

In the long run it'll also reduce my risk of breast cancer in my later years.

The parental units made it up here and are settling in. Mom's been laughing at me all day as I've made many, many MANY trips to the little girls room. And even though I've had nothing to eat today, I'm somewhat surprised at how not hungry I am. Though I have my mind set on a nice big burger sometime Thursday.

I wanted to say a BIG FAT THANK YOU to everyone who has sent me well wishes. You never really know how much support you're friends will provide until you need it, and I've gotta say, you are all the best friends ever.

So with that, I'm going to go drink some more water and have some orange jello, get a good night sleep and by this time tomorrow I'll be 3lbs lighter and without my girl parts.

Glitter on the Mattress

If you see a faded sign on on the side of the road....

Yes. That's right. The boys of DMQ were the B52's last night. Classic. Absolutely classic.

I'm not a huge B52 fan, but at least knew 2 of the 3 songs they sang last night. Rock Lobster and Love Shack. Hearing Rock Lobster rocketed me back to my sophomore year in high school and attending the USA Camp with BFF Laurakens. They had a little party for the teams and I remember hearing this song for the first time. Oh the memories.

Ahem...

Right, so the boys did a damn good B52 impression. The lead singer sounded shockingly close to the guy in the B52s. Oddly though they didn't sing all 10 of the Top 10 Worst songs. I was a bit bummed, because some of them were way bad. A few on the list they didn't sing: Party All the Time, Sussudio, You Light Up My Life, a couple more I can't recall. But of the 4 they did sing...wow, were they bad...in a good way. Oh, you want to know what they were?

The #1 of the Top 10 is one of my all time favorite 80's songs...and I admit, it's a bad song. It's the Final Countdown. Other songs they sang: We Built This City by Jefferson Starship, I was Made For Loving You by KISS, and Sister Christian.

In attendance last night were three, count them, THREE Dudley Virgins: Seattle SIL, Mrs. Braspir, and the PMGoddess. Of the "old" gang partying all the time were Blueberry, myself (of course), PhotoGirl and The Yank. The place was packed and some pretty darn interesting costumes. Of my crowd we all wore this Pippy Longstocking Witch hats, but The Yank and PhotoGirl out did themselves. One was Major D. Pression and the other was General Anxiety and they were both dressed in army fatiques.

Happy Halloweeny! You weeny!

Did you get your fill of Ma Nah Ma Nah?

Tonight is the annual Dudley Manlove Spooktacular (that's for you PMDude). I can't wait. A load of Dudley virgins are coming with me tonight. They have no idea how their lives are going to change after tonight. Who do you think the boys will dress up as? Madonna's? The Bangles? We shall see.

Yesterday was a rough day for the cat who owns this place. I'm sure when he woke up in the morning and started the diatribe of "feed me", he didn't think he'd be stuffed in a box three times and stuck in the Stang each time and the off times outta the stang stuffed in the bathroom. Because had he known ... well he wouldn't have gotten out of bed.

The day started like most. He got fed. Yet he hadn't read the memo indicating the Fire people were coming to check the systems. According to the landlords I had to be out as did the cat for the "test" all day. I had no idea what to do with the cat "all day". I mean it's a cat. I can't take him to work.

I had a 9AM call and I just knew the fire people would show up in the middle of the car. So to avoid having to explain to a client what the screeching noise in the background was, I thought I'd take the call from Tullys.

I had already stuffed the cat into the bathroom - he was already aware that something was up. At 20 till I stuffed the cat into the "Live Animal" box (it cracks me up that it says "Live Animal". I mean as if you'd be shipping a dead one.) and headed downstairs to leave. At the bottom of the stairs I had to stop and open the garage door. I carefully put the Live Animal up 5 steps so I could open the door. I turned and that's when my calves were slammed by said Live Animal. Poor cage and kitty tumbled down the flight of stairs. I started giggling at the thought of Pookie being in the spin cycle. He was unharmed, just a bit frightened I think. Oh if he only knew what was next.

He got put in the stang and off we went. The Tully's is all of less than a quarter of a mile and let me tell you, he had a few things to say on the way. I left him in the car and went into Tullys. Finished the call and headed home. He was none too happy to have been left.

Back at home, back into the bathroom. The look on his face was, "Just wait. "

Again, we had to leave to get lunch. He and went to Subway. Usually he likes Subway turkey, not so much this time.

One last trip came as the inspection boys showed up. This time we only sat in the Stang in a parking spot. I tried turning on the radio thinking that music calms the savage beast. That's a lie. The savage beast out sang the 80's hair band belting out a ballad.

At last, he was freed from his captivity. I didn't see him for most the rest of the day. Finally he showed his furry face and managed to settle down on the couch. He no sooner closed his eyes and the fire alarm went of. I didn't see the black blurr, just saw the fur still hanging in the air. You know how in cartoons the character jumps and appears to be running in place in mid air...then they bolt? Yah, that's what this looked like. About 8pm last night he came sleeking downstairs.

He survived. I survived. I have yet to find the "treats" I'm sure he's left me.

Ma Nah Ma Nah

Oh man I soo needed this...

The Great Pumpkin Carving...Part VIII

Thought I would add two more photos of the event...and Blogger is being a Pain so I can't move them down in the thread...but Pumpkin Peeps and Spider Cupcakes finished out the evening.

I've lost count at how many of these I've had. It's relatively annual and I think I started in like 1998 or something. I'm trying to remember where I was living so I can pin point the year. Still, last night was the "8th" annual Great Pumpkin Carving at Chez Jenn's. As expected all was in rare form and as creative they could be with pumpkins. This year I decided to let everyone bring their "scariest" appetizers. And naturally we had WAY too much food, but we did our best to get rid of it. (BTW I tried the Trader Joe version of chicken gyoza...OMG sooo good).

All the photos are here, if you dare.

I decided to step outside the box this year and carve a WHITE pumpkin. Which by the way I've never done...so guess what's been added to the list of 40?

I went for the pirate theme on accident. I started by carving the top off, digging out the guts and then wanting to be 'creative' when Mr. Volleyball suggested square eyes. Okay. Square. And we were doing well until one cut went too far - thus the notches. It's all in how you improvise.

I'm always amazed how people go about their carving. Some dig on in like Blueberry and others have to serious contemplate where to cut - Like ChickenLady. She wanted her pumpkin to "talk" to her.

So drum roll please.........

Here are the finished products. Left to right: Kim used a template, but you can't really see how good it was, mine, ChickenLady's Spider, Blueberry's Big Eyes, Mr. Volleyball and The Dane's unfinished drawn on gourd, and Claudia's tree carved pumpkin. Ooo La La.

The Pumpkin Murderer's: Me, Kim, ChickenLady, Blueberry, The Dane, Claudia and Mr. Volleyball.

If you weren't there you missed out. AND you may have been taken off the dinner rotation at Chez Jenn's. Unless you have a good excuse...and I mean a good excuse. Like maybe being in another state, that might be a good excuse. Might be....

Along with the Sunshine, there's gonna be a little rain sometime.

First let's start with the good news. Not that there's bad news, per se, but let us begin with good news. Solid good news.

I ROCKED THE CASBAH TODAY IN A QUARTERLY BUSINESS REVEIW!

What's more, the feedback from a major player was so astonishing to me that I almost felt like I could do anything. I found renewed faith in doing a good job. I felt confidence I hadn't felt in a long time. The interesting thing to me, this last wave of positive feedback comes on the heals of other good and interesting comments made by friends.

Right, so the not so good news. If you are one of those friends of mine who find I share too much information on this blog. You should turn away now. Don't read further. I'm about to disclose some rather personal information - and I don't want to hear from you that I share too much. You've been warned.

I get to have a hysterectomy. I know. Don't be jealous. You wish you were this fortunate.

Turns out that after the last little procedure the doctors found some nasty little pre-killer cells. There are two options for me. One of which isn't really an option and the other is a hysterectomy. Me? At just 40? Seems so surreal to me.

I've had about a week to take this all in and I've had some very quiet evenings at home to have little freak out sessions. I'm feeling pretty normal now. Scared to death and yet I feel in control of my destiny. I know that this surgery is one of the most common that women go through and rarely have any serious issues related to it. And I know that this surgery will save my life.

And that is what got me.

Realizing that removing an "organ" that I really haven't needed means that cells that were only interested in killing me will be removed. Stupid cells. Hah. I'll show you. You won't win. Neener Neener.

And besides, I've been informed that I'll really have the best of both worlds. I won't have Aunt Flow visit monthly AND I won't be in menopause (they aren't taking the ovaries). So really, this could be a good thing, right? No. It IS a good thing.

So, I'm adding a hysterectomy to my list of 40 new things. Funny little thing life, I had no idea this would be one of my "new" things.

Wanna an update of my 40 things? I know you do. I'm starting to think I may not make 40 things, but ... we'll we shall see.

1. Starbucks Instant Coffee - Nummers
2. Boss and BossBoss for Dinner at my house
3. Podiatrist visit
4. Walk of Hope
5. 5K Run Photography
6. Grease at the 5th Ave
7. Roller Derby - YeeHaw
8. New place to live
9. Read 100 new books - 67 read to date
10. Volunteering for the Getting Started Meetings (3Day)
11. Volunteer photographer for 3Day
12. Pampered Chef party
13. 3 Day Expo Volunteer
14. Race For The Cure Volunteer Photographer
15. iL Divo (ooo lala)
16. Ducks Tour
17. Dueling Pianos (and really bad food)
18. Volunteer for Survivor Brunch
19. Try over 100 new recipes (I need to count these - I think I'm around 65)
20. Ultra sound
21. Hysteroscopy
22. Hysterectomy
23. Volunteer Photographer for Gala

Things I still need to do:
1. Glass Museum
2. Smith Tower
3. Photograph a Wedding

And I'm at a loss now...I need more new things people!
4.

The World IS out to get me...

Sitting in the dr. office this afternoon for the "No big deal" post op, I felt confident that in fact the little bugger of a surgery would be "no big deal." As I sat and waited for the dr. to come in, I glanced around the sterile room. My mind focused entirely on getting out of there and back to work...I mean, I have things to do. This little visit should be quick.

My eyes take in the room. The counter tops are covered with baby stuff - or rather anti baby stuff. I'm slightly amused with the "models" they have on the counter top. The calendar is of babys, the pamphlets are all about either having or not having a baby. Everything around me is about having kids. Naturally. And somewhat ironically.

There's a soft knock on the door and in walks Doc. She seems a bit apprehensive, but she starts jabbering on asking me how I felt after the surgery. We banter back and forth about the entire process and finally she clears her throat. "I've received the pathology report."

Something in me felt cold. I had a bad feeling about what was coming next. My hands were suddenly clammy and I was sure my face was white as snow.

She smiles softly and proceeds to tell me about the results. She mutters off large words that are incomprehensible to me. I nod politely and act as if I understand what she's saying. I remind myself to pay attention as I am immediately taken back to my semester in Mexico where I simply nodded yes regardless of what I understood. It didn't have any real consequences then, but it could now.

I tell myself to focus and get back into the conversation just to hear the words "pre-cancerous". Wait what? I'm too young for the C word. She did not just say the C word?

Shaking my head I ask her go over that one more time, and please use words a 2 year old would understand. She proceeds to explain about atypia cells. They are just abnormal cells, that may or may not be cancerous.

The bottom line is this...I have to make a decision about how to proceed. I have two options. One of which isn't at all something I think I want to do. Which leaves option 2. Option 2, not something I thought a 40 year old would have done.

Still, as she wrote down the pathology report terms and a phone number for a referral to an - gulp - oncologist I found myself suddenly a bit numb.

The "C" word and the "O" word in one day. Surely that just proves my point in the title of this blog.

I must have appeared like death warmed over because she patted my hand and said she was merely referring me to these doctors as they specialize in a "robotic" method and wants me to discuss my options with them.

Right so nothings cancerous now. But could be. Maybe or Maybe not in the future. How does one make a decision based on that?

In the end, I toddle off to the car I'm playing the visit over and over in my mind. Freaked out to say the least, I pour myself into my car. Comforted by the warmth of the Stang and the really bad 80's tune. I take a moment and breath. Closing my eyes to really think about what just happened. And I did what any normal woman would do after this type of doctor's visit....

... I drove to Starbucks!

Maybe Tonight, Maybe tomorrow

In case you've not noticed it's Breast Cancer Awareness month. So for you ladies out there, check your boobies. For you men who have ladies you care about - and can get away with it - help them check their boobies (oh and check you're own too 3% of men can be diagnosed with breast cancer).

I was turned on to this song by a video from Young Survivors and it just touched my heart. Give it a listen. Read the lyrics too - I promise you, you'll feel it - in your throat as you get all choked up.

Maybe Tonight, Maybe Tomorrow - Wideawake

I heard the news today.
It came out of nowhere.
I wish I could run away,
but where would I go?
Is this my destiny?
Something so unfair...
What will become of me?
God only knows.

And they say the road to heaven might lead us back through hell.

Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow,
we will win this fight and bury this sorrow.
We're so alive, still holding on, not ready to die,
so we LIVESTRONG.

My pride is left for dead,
as my world gets shaken.
The thoughts inside my head
are so hard to control.
I am staring down the unknown,
but one thing is certain.
You could break my body,
but you will never break my soul.

And they say the road to heaven might leads us back through hell, but we're holding on for more than stories to tell.

Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow,
we will win this fight and bury this sorrow.
We're so alive, still holding on, not ready to die,
so we LIVESTRONG.

Around the house...

I felt the urge to get the camera out today, but didn't want to go too far in my adventures. I decided to wonder around the house and neighborhood and see what I could conjure up for the fall and halloween.

Pookie...the scariest spook of them all!

A few Lizard Legs.

A ghostly tale

Eye of Newt

Uncarved

My favorite flower

Fall Foliage

Skeli-mingos!

Better out then in I always say...

And with that I can add two more new things to my list:

1. Surgery
2. General Anesthesia

Surgery was a simple little procedure to remove a growth, nothing serious and nothing to worry about. At least that's what I kept telling myself. I wasn't so worried about the surgery as much as I was about the General. Not having every been put "under" before I was, understandably, concerned. You know, with me being a "control freak" and all, I was having issues with the idea of being "out of my own control." The idea of going to sleep in one room and waking up in another, was a bit much for me.

Still the morning started like most mornings, up early. Seattle SIL picked me up and drove me to the surgery center. By the time I was checked in and walking down the corridor to the operating room (with a slight breeze on my back side I might add) I had met 9 new friends from nurses to pharmacy dropper off-ers, to Dr. FeelGood(anesthesia guy - who was hilarious BTW. Who knew Dr.s could have a sense of humor?

I was gently guided into the operating room by Mr. FeelGood. I momentarily laughed at myself because the op table looked like a crucifixion table. Nursey-poo directed me to the table and indicated that she had been warming the bed for me...and she said, "Hop on up!" Right..hop...that's funny.

Still Dr. FeelGood and the Nursey-poo were working in tandem to keep me occupied while they forced a needle into my vein and began the prep work. Finally I noticed I had a needle in my arm, and clear fluid dripping into it. "Oh you're good," I said to Dr. FeelGood. He just smiled and said, "I'm putting the sleepy drug into you now...you should start to feel...." and that was all she wrote.

Some time later I was being tugged awake by another nurse asking how I felt. "Drunk!" That's how I felt. Like I had had a few too many Cosmos. After a few minutes, I was able to get up and stumble my way to the restroom to dress. I giggled out loud at myself trying to put my pants on after what felt like one helluva a fun night (with non of the calories).

Outside there was my SIL and a nice little recliner chair for me to sit and drool in (okay - so I didn't drool). Finally, Miss Pharm-Oh-Looky-At-The-Fun-Drugs stopped by to give me my prescription for hydrocodone.

Of which I won't need to take. I feel great. No pain. No nothing. Just starving and in need for some caffeine.

So thanks everyone for your well wishes and good thoughts. They clearly worked. Hopefully now I can get back to life on the fast lane. (Insert Eagle's Song Here)

Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door...

I had myself a very Pink weekend. I know you're not overly surprised that I be involved with some pink, are you?

Saturday, BigBro, Seattle Sisterinlaw, Blueberry, and Blueberry's sister all attended the Drink beyond Pink. It was a silent auction that was sponsored by Young Survival Coalition. They made a bunch of $$ to help fight breast cancer. Sadly, I didn't buy anything because a girl has to save $$ to pay medical bills here shortly.

Then Sunday BigBro, Seattle SIL, Blueberry and I stepped to it and walked a the Walk of Hope 5K. It was great to get out and do some walking. I've been sidelined - mostly by myself - because of the bruised balls of my feet. The 5K was a nice stroll through a nice park here in Seattle. The sun was shining so I did all I could to ignore any pain the footsies were feeling. Only later did the feet really hurt. But it was for a good cause.

I had an interesting dream last night which brought on the title to this blog. I've been struggling lately with dealing with over-bearing ego (OBE) types lately. I let too much get to me and it gets me all wound up. This dream made me laugh when I woke up. Dreams, they say, are your subconscious doing some filtering of thoughts, issues, etc. This dream there was no doubt what it was telling me to do.

I was married - which isn't the odd part, I'm getting there. Suddenly these little alien "bugs" were everywhere. They would dig in and get under my skin. They were painful to say the least. WE tried everything to kill them. We stumbled onto happy thoughts, and letting go of things as one method to kill them. And if that didn't work, apparently sawdust killed them. I carried a can of sawdust with me for sticking my hands into it on a whim to kill them. And we had a swimming pool of sawdust in the back yard too, just in case.

So what do you think? You think those little alien bugs are my OBE? Maybe I should start giving in to the "just let it go" idea. Something has to start working, or this girl is going to go INSANE.

In other non useful news you may want to know, we are getting very close to the "procedure" date. Friday I'll be adding another "new" thing to my list by having a little procedure done (they are calling it a surgery because they put me out - which by the way is another new thing).

And then, I guess after that I get to add paying medical bills to my list of new things. The first few came in already and let's just say someone is going to have to start scraping pennies together and start reviewing her spending habit again.