Wednesday, March 31, 2010


It is obvious from the fact that my son is still speaking to me that he has not read my previous post. Of course, he just started speaking today after his surgery so I'm not in the clear yet.

Something tells me, though, that he has more on his mind than reading his mother's blog.

Like salvaging what is left of his spring break now that he can eat and speak again.

Which leads me to just that - Blake's apparent success at making the most of the remaining days of his spring break. Said success would not be possible without two of his friends.

Yesterday Cubby came over to visit. Since I was done packing bloody gauze into the craters left in Blake's mouth, I left and went to Kayla's softball game 15 minutes away. I was glad Cubby was coming over. Cubby is a big guy and I knew he could easily pick Blake up off the floor and throw him onto the couch, should Blake happen to faint from blood loss or severe hunger.

Thankfully neither happened.

Instead I received a text from Blake, while I sat in the bleachers: ''Cub driving me to mall." Since Blake can't drive until Thursday Cubby offered to take him to the mall to visit Gamestop and to get him out of the house.

Now, isn't that sweet? Is that the kind of behavior teenage boys are known for?

I say NO! NO it is not. Teenagers DO have hearts. Teenagers are not always self centered.

I *heart* teenagers with heart. I *heart* Cubby.

And it doesn't end there. After the girls softball game, Blake's fellow Marine Recruit, Carmen, asked if she could stop by and have a visit. So Blake, Cubby and Carmen settled in the basement and watched movies and ate strawberry cake.

Well, Carmen and Cubby ate strawberry cake. Blake ate oatmeal and sprite.

So then.

This afternoon, Carmen had offered to drive Blake to their weekly Marine meeting (Poolie night), so she came by a little early and suggested they take a walk around the neighborhood beforehand. So they did.

Then she drove him to Poolie Night and then to DQ, where Blake ate a sandwich and a mister misty freeze and bought Carmen a mister misty (cause she didn't want dinner).

Again, I ask you....are these the actions of a self-centered teenager?

I say NO! NO, they are not! I *heart* Carmen

And now, Cubby is back in our basement with Blake and they are playing video games and watching movies and Cubby is spending the night.

And neither Cubby nor Carmen has even made fun of his chipmunk cheeks.

But seriously, folks. I've been so thankful for Blake's friends this week. He's been such a good sport but I know he's been miserable. And it's so good to see teenagers that take it upon themselves to do good for one of their own.

I am worn out. There is not one clean glass in my cupboard. Thankfully, I ran the dishwasher this morning and there ARE clean glasses in it; I just haven't had time to empty the dishwasher. my floors are dirty. The laundry is backed up. Kayla and I have eaten fast food three nights in a row. It's been a busy week, with the surgery, the gauze management (every thirty minutes the first day), helping Blake swallow his meds (because his face was completely numb and I literally had to place the pills in his mouth and help him pour water down his throat); softball games four nights this week, Easter shopping, birthday shopping for Paul, and a husband that is stuck at work 14 hours a day, I'll admit I'm worn out.

But even though my body is weary, my heart is energized from watching these teenagers in action. Somewhere out there are two families who should be very proud of their kids, and I intend to tell them that.


Disclaimer #1: There is absolutely nothing going on - dating wise - between Blake and Carmen. Carmen has a boyfriend who is away at boot camp. And Blake is not interested in her "that way." They are just buddies.

Disclaimer #2: Despite Blake's testimony that he could easily get $10 a pill for our unused Tylenol with codeine tablets ($30, according to Cubby) at the kids' high school, I do not intend to let the kids sell them outside the cafetorium; our negotiations broke down when I demanded a full %50 cut. I did consider it for a while (OH STOP! YOU KNOW I'M KIDDING) because we DO have oral surgery to pay for and....well....I want a new sofa....but decided it would be a terrible example for my kids. Plus Blake totally needs to spend all of his time in the classroom, not in the halls selling pharmaceuticals. After all, he doesn't even WANT to be a pharmacist.......

Monday, March 29, 2010


My sweet son had all four wisdom teeth extracted this morning.

I am exhausted for many reasons.

I did not sleep well last night because, even though he is almost 19 years old, I lay awake most of the night praying for his comfort and worrying about complications.

The surgeon was running late today. SURPRISE!!! a surgeon who is not on schedule.

When we got back to his office, we realized why he was running late.

Boy can that doctor talk.

And boy does he talk fast. So fast it wore me out trying to listen to him.

I was picturing a child who had eaten his whole Easter basket full of candy, downed a RedBull and then spent the day with Grandma.

I've never seen a doctor so passionate about his work.

By the time he finished with his consultation with us, I felt my eye twitching and I noticed that Blake was having a hard time keeping a straight face. Also, I completely forgot everything he said to us.

He did tell us that patients react to anesthesia in one of four ways:

-weepy, which could escalate into "wailing of Biblical proportions"
-child of the sixties...mellow and thoroughly happy with the drugs they've been given
-loopy and overly friendly....flirting with the nurses
-cussing like a sailor...which will lead the parents of said patient to attempt to crawl under the bed

Then the doctor clasped all our hands and began praying with us - praying that Blake would recover well and that he himself would do a good job for this patient brought to him. Maybe that's why I forgot everything he said to mind was on this wonderful testimony of his faith.

I also realized then why Dr. K spoke so fast and with such enthusiasm - the man is high on God.

I then spent my time in the waiting room praying that Blake did not awaken from his procedure cussing like a sailor, or in our case, a marine. I also prayed that he did not try to cop a feel on one of the nurses, especially since one of the nurses was the mother of his homecoming date.

Thirty minutes later, we were escorted back to his recovery room. One look at him in bed and we knew which category of anesthesia reaction he met....MELLOW AND HIGH AS A KITE. Our son is a child of the sixties

Things were looking PRIT. TEEE groovy for our boy. He seemed to be especially enthralled with the lights and other shiny objects.

He saw us in the doorway and smiled real big and gave us a big thumbs up. I never thought I'd be so happy that my son was a stoner.

He continued with the smiles and. thumbs up sign for several minutes until he told us (through sign language) that he wanted to write us notes.

He wrote us such messages as;

drugs are sweet

doctor is cool

drugs are awesome

How did they get me in here

and my favorite

liberals suck.

Now we are home changing gauze packing every 30 minutes and administering drugs every two hours.

And I am falling in love with texting all over again.

If I'm not in the room with him, Blake texts me for what he needs. If I am in the room with him, he types a text, lets me reads it, then deletes it.

When his Tylenol with codeine kicked in and he fell asleep, I lay down on my bed for a while to catch a little nap. I awoke to my phone vibrating and Blake texting me "new gauze, please."

Texting is the best new medical aid of the 21st century.

But I seriously doubt Obamacare will cover it as a legitimate medical expense.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010


Nobody says it better than Antique Mommy.

The fact of the matter is that for some time now, I’ve been feeling like Forrest Gump in that scene where he is jogging down the highway out in the desert with all those people following him and he just stops. He’s been running hard for five years and one day, he just stops. He doesn’t really know why. It just seems right. He turns and tells all the people that he’s tired now and he’s going home.

That’s sort of how I’ve been feeling about blogging lately, just sort of called away, feeling like it’s time to slow down, be quiet, do something else, invest elsewhere. I don’t plan to stop completely, I don’t think so anyway, but I’m going to take away some of the time and energy I give to this blog and invest it in my photography and elsewhere. Is that called balance? I don’t know.
Not that I have a photography hobby but there are other things going on, other places I need to spend my time. Plus, I just can't get any thoughts to meld together into anything blog-worthy.

Perhaps now that I've used Antique Mommy's words (and she certainly has some of the best words I've ever read) - my mind will be jumpstarted.

Perhaps not.