Thanks for bearing with me people. I've been gone from my blog for a little bit.
So here's the low down. Or the down low.
Here's the DL.
I've been a little bit sick and on Monday I was in the hospital for a procedure. It was ever so slight. It was ever so not serious. It was very much minor. It was not a boob job.
The bottom line is, I'm feeling better than I have felt in a LONG time. IT'S LIKE CHRISTMAS!! (oh my gosh is it here yet? we are in double digits counting down people! after that it's just SINGLE digits!!!)
Can we talk about going under? So, I've never had anesthesia before. I was scared. Actually, I was probably more scared of getting the IV stuck into one of my appendages more than anything. I learned, long ago, how to properly poke and prod people with medical pokey things, but that doesn't mean that I enjoy having it done to myself. I was nervous. Mike and I get to the hospital at some awful hour of the morning and they give me the loveliest of "dresses" to wear (Mike laughed at my butt) and I'm laying there trying not to throw up from nerves/not feeling good and trying to decide if I should go to the bathroom for the third time in a ridiculously short amount of time, when in walks Mary, the nurse who has been sent to prep me.
Mary doesn't smile. Mary doesn't laugh. Mary means business.
She starts asking me questions and giving me papers to sign and attaching things to my finger and arm that cut off my circulation but how else are they supposed to know what my heart and lungs are doing if they don't cut off my circulation? She leaves and then she comes back and people come in and out and one guy is all 'Hi I'm your anesthesiologist' and then ANOTHER guy comes in and says 'No, no, I'M your anesthesiologist.' They were both old and they were both funny, so really I would've taken either. Mary came in at some point and put some pokey stuff on the table next to me, leaving me to wonder when these things will be pointed in my direction. 10 minutes later, the first one came at me. It turns out it was a shot to numb my hand before putting the IV in. I've made it a habit not to watch when people insert sharp objects into my skin, so I decided to go ahead and continue that. At one point, some weird guy named Mike (no not my husband, I know it's confusing) came in and introduced himself as my nurse and in the middle of him talking to me, I realized Mary was putting stuff away on the table, and while awkward nurse Mike was giving his monologue or soliloquy, I burst out 'DID SHE ALREADY STICK ME?! I DIDN'T FEEL A THING!!' I then told Mary that she is awesome and if I had a gold star, she would be getting it.
Then, something magic happened.
Mary laughed.
And said 'I deserve a gold star' and from then on, she laughed at all of my bad jokes. Mary and I were best friends after that, and it was even okay when she couldn't find a vein in my hand and slapped it repeatedly saying how small my veins were and the 2nd old anesthesiologist had to find a vein for my IV. We really bonded, me and those hospital people. Then the 2nd old anesthesiologist, who turned out to be my real anesthesiologist, told me he was going to give me a margarita to make taking the anesthesia drugs easier (after he had told me this, and walked out of the room, I looked at Mike and said 'are they going to give me alcohol???' and he laughed at me. Thanks for your support in my time of need, husband. I've never done this! I don't KNOW these things! Mom, stop laughing right now because I know you are)
Anyways, so 2nd Old Anesthesiologist does something to my IV line and says 'In about a minute you're going to feel very funny' and about a second after that my vision started to feel very funny. I am told that shortly thereafter I said something along the lines of 'I've never done pot, but I think this might be what it feels like' and then awkward Mike and 2nd Old Anesthesiologist laughed and agreed 'no, probably more like drinking wine' and then I looked over at my Mike, smiled, waved, and said 'Hi Mike!'
Then they sent him away, and they took me away, and really everything after that I can't remember, except waking up and throwing up in a blue bag. Can we talk about how waking up is the worst part about being knocked out? It took for-freaking-ever. Not a fan.
Anyways, the bottom line is, I'm doing great, Mike (my Mike, not awkward nurse Mike) took fantastic care of me (although I'm pretty sure awkward nurse Mike did as well) and my mother in law gave me the most spectacular, bizarre plant I've ever seen. I love it!
Now that that's out of the way, caan we talk about a couple of things that have been eating at me for awhile?
I don't get the hummus thing. It's been around for awhile, I realize this. But, what is the big deal about hummus? I've tried it a couple of times, and I just.... I don't know. Maybe because it's Greek? I like Greek things. I like 'My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding' and 'My Life In Ruins' which takes place in Greece. Basically I like movies that have Nia Vardalos (LOVE her) writing/starring in them and she's Greek, and also I'd like to go to Greece someday, so I like Greek things. Right? Except the food. One time, for a date, Mike and I thought we'd be cool and try out Greek food for the first time in our lives. I can safely say that neither of us were fans. I remember ordering this appetizer that sounded so good. It was something along the lines of spinach and feta cheese mixed together and wrapped in phyllo dough. Sounds good, right?
Nope.
No one in their right mind should ever mix that much cooked spinach into anything ever. Ever. It was probably a ratio of 76 parts spinach and 1 part, each, phyllo dough and feta cheese. Oh, I'm gagging remembering it. Probably the best part of that date is that we actually took the leftovers with us, and forgot about them, and left them in Mike's car which has the ability to absorb the smell of everything even if it's only been in the car for 2 minutes. We left the leftovers in the car overnight, and the next day it rained so he couldn't crack the windows when he got to work. That was a funny day.
The second thing that is eating at me is this whole Missoni thing with Target. Am I the only woman that thinks all that zig zag crap is crap? I don't get the big deal, nor do I want to. I don't need it explained to me, so don't try. I think it's a tad ridiculous that people have fought and cried, literally CRIED, over a line of clothing/home goods/seizures waiting to happen. Do you know what I'm talking about? Have you ever sat behind someone wearing a striped shirt and looking beyond them is impossible because the pattern makes you dizzy? That's how I feel about the way all of those clothes look.
Moving on, things are becoming normal around here again. As normal as they ever can be. Which isn't much.