Monday Mimisms ~ Ala Recuperation Bloggingham

Now I ask you.

Do you see anything remotely resembling a nurse here? But it's my fault. I forgot to unlock the dungeon door before I went to the hospital-from-hell and had my blue/green thingy out. That's medical lingo for gallbladder. Consequently, Homer is stuck down there with no way to get up here to help me and I can't descend the stairs (doctor's orders). What am I gonna do??!

I am so sick of his howling!

It's just as well he's there. He's heard this story a thousand times already. Yeah, Homer, I know it's you listening in on my phone conversations. Join the crowd. It went something like this...

"Put this on."

You've got to be kidding.

They weren't kidding.

Look at my socks.
They don't even know how to dress me. I'm trusting them to remove a vital organ??

It was 5:30 in the morning. My hair was a mess. I was not amused.But I am nothing if not brave.

Look. I know there are nurses that God sends down from Heaven on a regular basis, but the day I landed in the OR was not one of those days. How would you like to hear this when you wake up from surgery?

Nurse #1 "I don't think she's breathing right."
Nurse #2 I don't think she's breathing at all."

My son was not amused.

Back I go to the Recovery Room. Shouldn't they have been able to tell if I'm breathing before they let me out the first time??! Big Baby Boy (seen here being a smart alack wearing a mask) said they argued for five minutes about the state of my respiration and all I could say was something about calling the blogger bees.

I am nothing if not resourceful.

During one of the most unQueenly moments of my life a nurse actually told me, "I have other patients to deal with." "But my arm HURTS. You have to use small needles in my veins, Nurse Ninny, I'm trying to save us all a lot of trouble here." Several sticks later and a search for veins that would have put Columbus to shame she added, "Be still. It's all in your head."

I kid you not.

My son was on the phone with my blog buddies at the time and reading text messages, trying to figure out how people from all over the country I'd never met knew more about my anatomy than he did. He was so confused! And even in my drug induced state of nonsense I remember him laughing hysterically. "Mom, one of your internet friends said not to worry about the nurse. Something about goat voodoo?" ....Finally! Some people with some sense! I thought. I hope Ann made a big ole' batch for Nurse Ninny.

"What is Reiki? Somebody in a grass skirt just sent you some from Hawaii...maybe England. Is Kat really a cat? And Mom, who are Bruno and Guido? Bees? Bees?! You have strange friends, Mom......Anyway....they want to know if there is padding on the walls. "

Very funny, my friends, very funny. I lose my ning and you're making jokes. How many of you actually still have your nings? I'll bet not many. Hell hath no fury like a ning-less Queen ya know!

Just before I slipped into that nice fog of unknowing, they asked if I had a religious preference. That was comforting. Their timing really stinks. I looked at her as seriously as one can wearing nothing but blue paper and a rubber-banded ponytail and said, "Preference? Yes. Somebody better be praying to Baby Jeebus!" (hat tip Starr)

She laughed and warned the psychiatric ward of my impending arrival.

I am now on week 3 of Ala-Recuperation-Bloggingham. I no longer need drugs that make me see waterfalls on the wall and spiders in the bed (yes. really) but I'm beginning to think they extracted my fun bone. I know I used to have one. Friday I got to see a picture of my very own liver. It was beautiful! The other-thinga-ma-bob ...not so much. But it could be worse. Without this little adventure I might never have discovered that goat voodoo really does work and my body CAN function without wearing earrings for twenty-four hours. I'm working on my new diet of bland this week and hiding bags of Cheetos and boxes of chocolate covered cherries for later. Somebody needs to get over here and rescue Homer from the dungeon. He's running up the phone bill down there. I don't know why he's been doing internet searches on voodoo and....and....

Why am I craving goat cheese?