Episode 2, Part 1: What Happens in the Hospital Should Stay in the Hospital...but won't

I see I have one follower so...thanks for being patient.  Most of my friends know that I was in the hospital for 4 days...so my sitcom was on a brief hiatus.  But I'm out and ready to turn my experience into a episode full of hearty belly laughs...too bad I can't laugh...damn pain.  I'll try to not go into too much detail...it's supposed to be funny not gross.

Scene:  Emergency Room
Time:  Friday Morning

So we'll start off here.  I've already called the doctor and explained my symptoms which involve severe abdominal pain and a discharge out of an exit-only orafus that should not have this particular discharge.  I'm told to go to the ER.  I've checked in...didn't get weighed, yay!...and am being prepped for my first two pokes which would be the initial blood draw and an IV for fluids and (halleluiah) pain medicine.  The pain medicine doesn’t do much for the pain but did make my head feel like a 20 pound bowling ball that I could not lift off of the pillow. 

Do you know the movie Fletch?  Well it is my favorite.  You can keep your “Gone with the Wind” or “Casablanca”…give me Chevy Chase at his sarcastic comedic best.  Well the next part comes right from that part in the movie when Mr. Babar goes to Stanwyk’s doctor to try and pry some information out of him but uses the worst medical condition to do so for a man…kidney pains.  Dr. Jelly Finger then has Chevy bend over the bed as he lubes up his fingers.  As Chevy tries to talk his way out of it he starts to sing “Mooooooon Riverrrrrr”.  So there I am, being a wonderful wife facing my husband although part of me wanted him to get the other view with my Dr. Jelly Finger checking to see if I was correct about the discharge…so I sing “Mooooooon Riverrrrr” which gets everyone to laugh.  I was not imagining things he finds what I am talking about and I am allowed to resume a normal laying position.  “I'm sure it’s not from a lack of looking.”

Then I am informed that I will be having a CT scan…which requires drinking 2 large cups of gook that I’m guessing was supposed to be tropical flavored.  It didn’t make me feel like I was on a vacation in the Caribbean…it made me long for anyone to bring me some rum to put in it.  After kicking hubby out of the room to eat because I now have to wait 2 hours before having the scan so that the icky drink can make its way through my system a wonderful nurse gives me more pain meds.  This works and my 20 pound bowling ball head rolls to the side and I fall asleep.

 Dr. Jelly Finger wakes me up so I can be wheeled to my scan.  Once I reach the room I lay on a table so I can be inserted into the center of a giant donut…you so know a guy designed this thing…you slide in and out of the hole?  Come on…pervert.  Thank God holding your breath was the only exertion I had to give for this test because I was still wonky from the pain meds.  Then I got injected with the dye…that dye that makes you all warm and it feels like you are peeing your pants (I’m serious).  I giggle and so far that is the highlight of my day…and I slide in and out of the giant donut and it is over.  Between the dye and the fluids that are slowing dripping into my body I really have to pee…and sure enough the bathroom in the giant donut room is being occupied.  So I make my way back on to the gurney and I am wheeled back to my room only to find my co-habitated bathroom is being used.  Give me a break!  Hubby lets me know when it is free and I move as quickly as my bloated, swishy belly will let me. 

Time passes by and Dr. Jelly Finger emerges to give me my test results.  All bloodwork came back negative, but my scan showed my small bowel is inflamed.  Fantastic…

Next step…being admitted to the hospital.  I’ve never been admitted to the hospital before from the ER.  I’ve had trips to the ER and I’ve had a couple of day surgeries…also stayed a few days with each of my kids.  Let’s just say I’ve always had an opportunity to plan for it, but this was not to be.  Soon I’m hit with a barrage of doctors, nurses, specialists, physician assistants, all asking me the same questions over and over…except for the nice nurse who gave me morphine…love you.  So one moment I feel like I am being admitted, next…because Dr. Greek can’t do my big test until Monday…I feel like I’m being sent home and will have to do the prep and test outpatient.  Then I’m having my blood pressure checked every 10 minutes…don’t know why.  Finally it’s confirmed…due to my abdominal pain I am being admitted and I will be there all weekend.  At 8:30 at night I’m finally being moved to my room…apparently the 2 mg of morphine dropped my blood pressure and they couldn’t move me until it came back up…surprise!

I’m wheeled into the only wing with available rooms…pediatrics.  Now, anyone who knows me knows this is the only place I belong because I am a big kid.  But I feel weird…seeing dads holding little babies and hearing toddlers asking for mommy is making me uncomfortable that I am sharing a wing with them.  But then I see my room and I’m totally okay with it.  I end up in this nice size room with a flat screen television on a swivel arm.  It’s a private room with a walk-in shower, blow dryer, and sofa.  It’s beautiful…and it is all mine!  Once I’m all hooked up and situated in my room my hubby returns with the kids.  I give them a brief synopsis as to what is going on and assure them that I am okay, and then I gave them an opportunity to ask me questions.  The cafeteria is closed and I’m not all that hungry so the nurse makes me some toast and I have some ginger ale…I hate ginger ale but I need soda at this point in time after my steady diet of tropical goo, saline, and pain meds.  Everyone leaves and I wish Billy good luck at his karate tournament (heartbreaker…I was supposed to go and cheer him on so I tell hubby to take video for me).  Suddenly it’s quiet…I pop on the tele and hunker down for a nice sleep…which is interrupted by a beeping IV machine, a bladder that has to be emptied every 2 hours, and a very uncomfortable bed.

Episode #1 - Aiden the Kitten

Setting:  Current Day
Location:  Tiny 1 bathroom house on "Crack Street"

So my oldest daughter has found a new love and they are deeply and madly in love after 2 months of dating (gag).  They are so in love that loverboy likes to say he is our future son-in-law (dry heave).  They so know this is going to last forever that they've already gotten an accessory for his apartment to symbolize their commitment to each other...a kitten.  A very cute black kitten named Aiden that looks like Basement Cat's son (looooove lolcats) with seriously long claws to match.

Here's the kicker...loverboy does not have an apartment.  So, where does said kitten reside?  My house!  Oh you have to love a surprise when your daughter says "I'll give you a hint...it rhymes with 'mitten'".  Now one would think that the appropriate way of going about getting a kitten would not only be having your own place, but possibly discussing it with the people who pay for the house that you reside in.  But noooooo...instead we get blind-sided by a ball of furry cuteness.

So, hubby allowed Aiden to stay because although he is the stoic one even he has a soft spot for kittens.  But now you can add Wolverine kitten to our list of demented pets.  Did I mention I don't like cat claws?

Fade out

Alycia-isms...Insert into any episode for an instant laugh

An "Alycia-ism" is something my daughter says or does that make you wonder if we fed her lead paint chips as a child...or if you are a fan of Arsenio Hall think of it as "things that make you go...HUH?"

For example, the time she said, "mom...when I go on my honeymoon I think I'd rather go to Canada than Paris...I don't want to deal with French people".

or...the time she was straining a pot of pasta and told me the steam was fogging up her glasses...but I had to inform her she wasn't wearing glasses.  Ugh, and she drives a vehicle!

Alycia-isms are also innocent sayings that pop into conversations or situations that don't fit in.  Like the time I said goodbye to my parents before they left for Florida.  The car was quiet...I was balling, Cassie was crying, hubby was stoic as usual...and then Alycia, while gazing out at the illuminated retail signs on Main Street, blurts out "oh look!  Walgreens sells bacon!".  Ah yes, see how it doesn't fit in?  But it did make me laugh and that made me feel better.

So, if you find yourself in need of a quick laugh...or a way to draw awkward looks in your general direction...reach for an Alyica-ism*.

*Copyright pending

Pilot Episode...Introduction

Okay...I've been told for years that my life should be a sitcom.  Between the kids, the husband, the pets, the friends, the kid's friends, the parents, the in-laws...my whole life is one big, giant laugh fest.  If by chance it is a somber time don't worry...something funny is sure to follow.

If there is one thing I've learned in the 37 years I've been alive is that if it wasn't for the ability to make my life funny I wouldn't be here.  I truly enjoy laughing...think about it, it burns calories, it cheers me up, and frankly I find it very sexy.  I also enjoy making others laugh...which is what brought me here to this blog that is about 5 years past it's coolness.  But since I'm an 80s chick enjoying things out of date is my specialty.  I make it a point to make people laugh basically every waking moment...frankly if I can't make you laugh I have a hard time talking to you at all.  I'm amazed at the people who simply lack a funny bone...or possibly had it surgically removed to further their illustrious cubicle career.  I am friendly and outgoing to everyone I meet whether it is a friend, family member, or the cashier that should be friendly and outgoing to me since it is their freakin' job.  Ummm...hello retail hell?  I've seen the people you hire and I'm still waiting for a call for an interview...

I have an amazing, totally dysfunctional family that keep me scratching my head long after they all go to sleep.  I have a 19 year old daughter, a 14 year old daughter, and a 12 year old son.  I've been married to the mister for 19 years (no need to do the math folks...the oldest was at our wedding).  We live in a tiny house with 1 bathroom.  We have 3 pets:  the dumbest, fattest beagle you'll ever meet nicknamed "Hoover"; a fat gay cat who only comes out at night and says "hello"; and another cat who's holds top ranking in the pet department.  I'd like to count my son's hermit crabs as pets but they are gross and frankly I'm still surprised they are still alive.

 I am an only child who is very close to her parents...who up and abandoned me by moving to Florida last year and if it wasn't for the free place to stay on vacation I'd still be mad at them.  My husband, on the other hand, is the 7th of 8 children...and his family probably will not be discussed too much here due to the fact that I do like being married to hubby.  Oh the stories...

Well I'm going to end the pilot there...but stay tuned because I'll be posting new episodes any chance I get!