When it rains, it pours...

Valentines Day 2008 and it's subsequent weekend will not be fondly remembered. Soon after the previous post things went rapidly downhill. Here's the synopsis:

Tony's Grandpa Charlie passed away on Valentine's Day. His health had been poor, but this was certainly sooner than anyone anticipated.

After slogging through the rest of our Valentine's work day, we head home and try and decide what to eat. While making our decision, I eat a cookie and drink some milk. (Insert Ron Burgandy: "Milk was a bad choice!") I instantly feel as though someone bashed my stomach with a shovel. Mercifully, the abusers let up for a bit and allowed me to sleep until 4 a.m. at which time they proceded to go for an uptempo second round.

At 4:30 a.m. Tony decided to take me to the ER because the pain level was high (8 of 10) and it didn't make any sense--no fever, didn't hurt worse to touch, etc. Three hours later the ER didn't know what was going on either, but discharged me because they guessed it wasn't going to kill me. Tony had to leave me for a bit to shut down the office. Luckily, Tony's sister (who is CMA in Des Moines) was able to get me an appointment in the very early afternoon. The diagnosis: 90% sure it was gastritis (raw stomach lining due to stress and too much stomach acid), 10% possibility it was something gallbladder related thanks to incriminating family history. Because I hadn't eaten anything, they sent me for an ultrasound to help rule in/out the gallbladder problem later that afternoon. (Side note: my kidney looks like an alien life form.) Dr.'s orders at this point are to exist on a very bland fat-free diet, so I'm currently fueled by chicken broth, rice, Toasty-Os, and Krisped Rice. As hungry as I am, I'm not taking any chances until after the funeral (I've been asked to sing during the service and it's usually assumed the singer can stand).

Fast forward to today: The weather in central Iowa goes from bad to worse while we are in church. The Highway Patrol deems that highway 30 is unsuitable for travel, meaning we couldn't make it to the visitation this afteroon, which was upsetting. In addition, our sister-in-law was making her way back from Omaha when she was majorly rear-ended outside of Des Moines, totalling her less than 3 week old car. She was already nursing a knee problem (her knee is the size of a grapefruit) and had an allergic reaction to the pain meds they gave her for it. Now, she's added whiplash to her list of pains.

To close, the funeral is tomorrow. Thoughts and prayers are greatly appreciated.

Sincerely,
Debbie Downer

PS: At least the Cyclones won on Saturday, although we did have to witness the ugliest first half of basketball ever. It seemed rather fitting at the time considering everything else that had gone on. An awesome second half was a pleasant diversion from the insanity.

My Funny Valentine

In addition to being one of my favorite songs, "My Funny Valentine" also seems to fit the general theme of the day as well.

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day?" has been my leadoff question for the week (when appropriate). The stories patients tell about their plans for the day are in turn sweet, bitter, silly, and sometimes even sensible--e.g., waiting for the weekend.

My Valentine IS funny. Yesterday we were looking for handwriting fonts and he found the following little diddy. We laugh everytime we think of it and hope you enjoy it too.

Ready?

"If you're not part of the solution, you're a precipitate."

(insert nerdy giggle here)

Happy Valentine's Day!

A Herd of Piggies

Iowa is known for producing hogs and you are probably aware of several sayings involving them. This morning at about 7:50 a.m. a whole herd of cars did their best impression of hogs on ice.

It was a sad and frustrating display. The cars even did their best squeeling impressions by slamming on the footfeed and then their brakes as they went in every direction other than forward. I belive "grunting" would be a nice way to interpret the sounds inside the cars as people made faces and gestures of frustration.

We were stopped near the crest of the hill by the stoplight and when it turned green again the huge passenger van in front of us started moving--but not in the correct direction. It slid backwards, sideways, nearly into the next lane, etc., all without bothering to turn on its hazards. An attempt to go around the large van ended up with us taking a rather uncomfortable slide to the side. Thanks to a minivan that was a little to close behind me I gave up trying to move. The lane to the right continued to move through three or so more lights and then a little black Toyota gummed it up.

A cop showed up asked each car if we could move and then left to take care of some accidents. Ten minutes or so ticked by along with several Cy-Ride buses along a route that runs right by our office (tried to get Tony to walk up and catch a bus, but he wouldn't). Frustrated, I called 911 and they said that the city had a load of salt and sand on the way. Passing along information seemed to calm the driver of the little black Toyota (he wanted us to try and turn around so he could get out).

Meanwhile the traffic continued to pile up down the hill. We collected several compact cars, a school bus, and other miscellanious vehicles all the way to the bottom of the very long hill. Every now and then someone would make a well calculated run and go around us all when there was a green light.

After waiting for about 20 minutes a city truck lurched around the corner and drove VERY close to us flinging sand and salt. Figuring it was a now or never moment, I slid the shifter into drive and putted right on up the hill.

To think, just a little sand and salt thrown out would have saved so many piggies--I mean, people--so much time.