She says: gaping

The stitches are out. Cindy's not happy with the situation. If you can imagine. The flexing isn't right. And the wound is not closed. Still open? She says: gaping.


Doubts it will heal. Doubts removing the alien tracking device was the right move. Doubts the stitches were in long enough. Swarms of doubt lingering around her head like a dull army of slow gray bees.


My prediction? The wound will heal. The flexing will get right. And she'll be the only one on Earth to notice the scar. But by the time those memories fade, she'll be on to the next arm of bees to keep her buzzing.

Agent Scully's Surgery

Some alien object has embedded in my bride's lovely hand. Not sure what it is. Not sure where it came from. Discovered it several weeks ago. At first, touching the area sent lighting through her hand, straight to her spine. Then she shined a flashlight through the meat between her fingers. And spotted the foreign invader. Like an angry grain of brown rice. Finally, last week, it started to rise to the surface. Forming an impressive zit-like head and daring me NOT to dig it out. (Click to zoom.)

However, Cindy being Cindy, I wasn't allowed to carve it out with a buck knife. Instead she opted for an out-patient adventure. Simple stuff, pretty much in line with what I wanted to do at home. But instead of Cindy slamming a couple of Jagerbombs, they'll put her under. And instead of a knife, they'll use a scalpel.

Ultimately, she did very well. Waited in pre-op for a couple of hours, texting checking Facebook. Then off she went. Twenty minutes later, the doctor comes to see me. Said he wasn't sure what it was, but sent it off for testing. Didn't have to dig to deep. Didn't see any nerve damage. Shouldn't even need physical therapy. And ten minutes later, they rolled her back to me. Shivering from the anesthetic, talking non-stop. A good sign. And she kept getting better from there. 

Hopefully Agent Scully's surgery will not offend the alien hivemind. I think it was a tracking device. And once they realize she's off the grid, then the real adventure will begin!

From The Driveway

Most of this came out while we were in the driveway, about 20' from the front door:

• Wishes she had worn long sleeves instead.
• Wishes she had brushed her teeth again.
• Forgot to bring the oranges (which are inside) for her Mom (who we're going to see in 5min.)
• Can't wait to go to sleep tonight. Even though it is 5PM. Except the Emmy's are coming on.

Weekends. Love 'em!

Wants New

She needs a new adorable haircut and a new girl to do it.

She needs to figure out how to redo Liam's floor this summer. Even though I know  how to do it.

She needs a new house with more space because her closet is full of too many clothes and photos.

She doesn't want to go to the party tonight because she doesn't have anything to wear.

She needs her Mom to help her decide what to wear.

She needs new boots. Wants a $300 pair. But would accept a $150 pair.

She needs to wax her hands because they are so dry from chemicals and taking care of kids this week.

She needs a different outfit because the black one won't work in this cold weather.

She doesn't want to go to my favorite non-smoking bar. Even though she doesn't have any cigarettes.

She doesn't want to watch anything up front. Especially not a show about building cars.

...that's all,  for today.

The Whole Fence

She let the dog run around the yard this morning. A few minutes later, the dog disappeared. All too briefly. Before long, Meg heard a scratching at the front door. It was the dog. She'd gotten through a gap in the fence. Ran around the side. Wanted in through the front door. Much rejoicing.

Instead of fixing the hole, she wants to replace it. The whole fence.  Um. Yeah.

That pesky gall bladder.

Bad news: Just before lunch, a migraine crept behind her eyes.

Good news: The tests of her gall bladder came back without any negative results. The little villain gets to stay. For now.

Her Abs

She decided to do some kind of home workout today. "Kinda ran," and did some sit ups with Liam on her feet. As a result, she's walking around rubbing an odd muscle on her right thigh and cursing the aging process. All because, she "kinda ran" and did ten crunches?

An ill omen

Not sure what detonated inside my cranium or why, but I've been wrestling with an odd headache for the better part of two days. Wrecked the second half of the day. I spent most of it on Cindy's side of the bed. My eyes closed. A pillow over my head. And the television droning in the background. After a couple of hours being numbed by MSNBC, I could walk around again. Hopefully it isn't an ill omen for this weekend.

Regardless of the outcome of this weekend, I tried to make up for lost time. Wrote some backlog entries from last year.

• Halloween 08
• Highland Games 08

 Need to get back to trying to fleshout my archives. I probably have three hundred pending entries. And miles to go before I sleep.

Giant Blue Puppies

Cindy took it upon herself to suddenly and unexpectedly force Meg to sleep in her own bed tonight. What followed was a bombshell of little-girl-lunacy and the most amazing quotes.

"I can't sleep in my own bed! I can't! I have bad dreams about giant blue puppies stepping on me. And snakes wrapping around me. And my eyeballs falling out!"

And Cindy stressed to the point of seriously thinking she was having a heart attack. But she survived to see another day. And no dogs landed on Meg.

Week Ends

The calendar says Friday. This is normally when the week ends. But it doesn't end to me. Too many projects. Not enough time. Not enough sleep. I get these headaches after three days. A buzzing, like pop rocks, in the back of my throat. And after eleven hours on the job, I'm dragging home thinking about nothing but drinking until my teeth float.

At least I have this lovely sunset greeting me in the parking lot.

Lightning Fallout

Burned a vacation day and spent time dealing with the lightning fallout. Had to call the electric company since they're responsible for the outside power lines. Had to call the gas company who said everything should be good since we have manual valves and nothing was cooking when the lightning hit. Had to get an appliance guy over to check out the washer, drier, oven, microwave, stove, and confirm the range top is dead. And had to get some electricians over to confirm the wiring is still good (for 35+ year old wiring) and they also installed a whole-house surge protector.

Not how I wanted to use vacation time. But at least nobody was harmed. And my computer is still working!

Interestingly enough, just before she went to sleep, Cindy made an unusual discovery. She was cleaning in the kitchen when she spotted something strange on the face of the clock. Click the pictures for larger views. It looks like the bolt of lightning went from the power outlet (right of the clock) to the range top (left of the clock) and along the way it melted the plastic on the clock (by the number 3) and then singed the dish rack (by the number 6.) It left a trail of smoldering bread crumbs that we were able to follow.

Never a dull moment these days.

Bad Weather

A peal of lightning. Instant detonation of thunder. Liam shrieking, "I'm scared! I'm scared!"

I wake up in the hallway, on my feet. My son's face pressed to my chest.

Down the hall, an odd clicking. Like a taser discharging. I walk into the kitchen. Sounds like popcorn in the microwave. But there is something flashing blue and white under the stove burners. A stobe light behind the clicking of the taser. And while my brain is trying to figure out what poltergeist has infected my appliances, a spike of pure orange flame shoots up from the stove. The clicking and flashing stops, but the fire remains. Without thinking, I stick my face over the stove and try to blow out the flame. Thankfully, nothing explodes all over me.

Eventually, we discovered that the lightning had come in through the front wall, took out our TV and the kids' Wii, then proceeded to run along the wires to slag the garage door, and kept down through to the kitchen, where it lept out of the wall and hit the stove, destroying the igniter and setting the plastic on fire.

Not a good start to the day. Maybe four grand worth of damage. But nobody was hurt. I can replace "stuff," but some wounds don't heal.

Much better

I'm happy to report that Liam is finally feeling better. For the first time in a month, he's almost made it through an entire week of school without checking out.

So, what happened? The short version is that Liam has developed Gastroesophageal reflux disease, or GERD. More commonly known as acid reflux. Thanks to a pediatric G.I. specialist in Mobile, AL, we learned that we had been giving Liam's meds to him completely bass ackwards. We were sold several times (by local pediatricians) to give it to him twice a day, morning and night. We gave it to him after breakfast and after supper. We were SUPPOSED to be giving it to him on a completely empty stomach. Before breakfast. And before supper.

The very first day we gave the meds correctly, we saw positive results. And each day has improved since then.

We hope we have seen the worst of it. We'd like to get back to a sane, relaxed, and productive household.

Downtime

I'm completely swamped, under-motivated, over-worked, stressed-out, and up to my eyeballs in drama. As a result, I haven't had any energy or spare braincells to document my adventures as of late. Hopefully I will catch up on them and retro-post some of the things I've documented with the Ye Ol' Blackberry. But I'm not sure when.

Liam's stomach issues continue to devour all our energy. He has acid reflux. He's incredibly consumed with fear that he will "get sick." Meaning he doesn't want to throw up. So he literally asks us every few minutes, "Am I going to be sick?" When he isn't asking that, he's reminding us, "I'm worried," or "I'm afraid," or "I'm scared." Hours and hours and hours of that. It saps our strength and disrupts work, school, and everything in between.

He's on a new med as of today that we hope helps.

Some Bad Food

Trying to write and Cindy stumbles out of the bed. Holding her stomach. Notice the time. Almost midnight. Well past stumbling time for my bride. She's usually observing the back of her eyelids at this point.

"I'm real nauseous," she says. "I hope it wasn't something I ate. Some bad food."

I hope she isn't pregnant and ask, "What can I do to help?"

She shakes her head and goes back into our bedroom. Her and the nausea and Meg.

Something Gritty

Didn't see this one coming. (Pardon the pun.) Cindy's eyes are hurting.

"Feels like I have sand in my eyes. Or dirt. Something gritty."

She wrestles down a couple of drops of something magick. And is off to bed.

That's her version of "Good night."

Not A Headache

It's Monday. Cindy's got some digestion issues. I'm sure she could elaborate with some wicked medical terms to help explain. But I'm just glad it is not a headache.

Her bad veins

Cindy says her leg has been hurting for two days. Says it is her bad veins. They hurt. And she points them out to me. Or tries to.

I call them spider veins. I didn't know they were painful.

Cindy says hers hurt.

And that was our conversation before she went to sleep.

Woes Du Jour

Cindy thinks her blood pressure is causing problems again. Switching to a different med. Third time is hopefully the charm.

Liam's belly acts up. He goes home with Nana for a long nap and a day off.

Ringing returns to my right ear. Really disappointed. Only two days of peace. Have to find the cause before the vertigo returns.

Cursed By Cheese

Cindy's woe of the day: her belly is bloated. It don't feel pretty, either.

The story goes: She made a turkey and cheese sammich for lunch. Took a bite. It tasted funny. Took another bite. It smelled funny, too. Took a third bite. Still tasted and smelled bad. So she threw it in the trash. Came home, checked the label on the Swiss: expired in January.

Now her belly is cursed by cheese.