single with vodkagood girl gone bad

before i begin, i would like to take this opportunity to personally extend my warmest welcome to the newest members of the swv entertainment empire: Asshat & Co. i can’t tell you how much it pleases me to have expanded my fan base to such illustrious patrons of the arts.  plus, i now have that hard copy of all my posts that i have been meaning to print out for myself for so long which will make securing that possible book deal so much easier one day.

ok, now on with the blog.

part 1: fun at the ER

in the true style of the year that just keeps on giving, 2009, took one last opportunity to spew all over me before it ended. on december 9th, just as i had crossed off yet another day on the calendar of The Never Ending Divorce (18 months now, if you’re counting), and had settled cozily into bed with my darling daughters for the night, i got a frantic phone call from my mother. she was in tears from abdominal pain and had been vomiting for hours. this is a fiercely independent woman who does not ask for help…ever. so when i got that call, i knew it was an emergent situation. and after losing my dad unexpectedly in february, my sister and i were taking no chances: that woman was going to the ER. there would be no discussion about it. we called her neighbors to drive her over and my sister & i met them at that bastion of medical arts known as, centrastate hospital.

it’s an understatement to say i was shocked when i took my first look at moms. she was as pale as i had ever seen anybody and she was moaning in agony. they had her in a wheelchair with a barf pan up to her face and she looked so tiny & frail, i almost burst into tears. despite the 20 year old snot ass triage wench that sighed disgustedly at us & exclaimed, “it’s just a virus, everybody is getting it,” mom was admitted to the ER quickly (we will be sure extol that chick’s delightful bedside manner in the customer satisfaction survey) and we began the long process of trying to figure out what was attacking my poor mother from the inside out.

as you know, things move at the speed of sloth in the ER, but her extremely loud, pitiful moaning definitely upped it to a snail’s pace. they got her hooked up to an IV quick-ish & gave her pain & anti-nausea meds to calm her down until we could see the doctor, which most likely wouldn’t be until close to sunrise the next day. all there was left to do was to sit on her gurney in the hallway & wait. wait and observe. observe humorous things – because that’s what i do folks: find the humor is every situation. and no matter how inappropriate that may sometimes seem, that is how i cope with adversity which, my dear new readers, has always been the entire purpose for the existence of this blog.

one of the first things my sister and i both noticed was the “don’t forget your belongings sign” which had cute little pictures of items such as a cane & dentures. it begged the question: how often do people leave their dentures at the ER that it necessitated a sign?  and, who working in the ER, actually had the time to make that sign? we also noticed the people who were there alone and felt sad for them. especially the 86 year old man with dementia who kept asking for a pillow which was, “under your head, sir,” and shat himself twice. there was the obese dude in the room across from us farting loud enough to be heard outside his room with one shoe on & one shoe off. and there were the snippets of the ER nurses’ conversations such as, “do you have any diapers over there?” which is just plain disturbing to hear anywhere other than the maternity ward, pediatric ward, or babies ‘r us. by the way, ER nurses are really tough. i recommend identifying who’s flanks you need to smooch immediately to get some attention. as the endless wait progressed, we started playing a game called, “guess why this person is here tonight.” there is just no dignity in a hospital. and it’s nothig like scrubs – as hard i tried to troll for dates, there were no cute interns at all.

approximately four hours later, at about 1 am, a room opened up & my mom got to move out of the corridor into a room where we got to watch tv. hospital tv is a real treat since the channels are limited. there was the “all olive oil all the time” channel,  which featured an image of 3 olive oil bottles: light, virgin & extra virgin. i can only assume it had some sort of subliminal purpose. there was the, “don’t worsen your heart condition” channel which featured relaxing nature images on a loop. but, the best was by far, “the don’t kill your new baby” channel which was chock full of “baby care tips” which were really ways not to harm your infant. surprisingly, or perhaps not surprising at all, not one fun medical show to be found. one thing my sis & i both agreed upon, the ER really should have a 24 hour lounge with a bar. this would be a huge revenue source. and how about some on demand movie channels? please, just think about it, hospital administrators.

eventually, around 4 am, my mom had the pleasure of enduring a relaxing cat scan to figure out why her intestines were so unhappy with her. i have to say the mural on the ceiling of the scan room was a nice touch. after another hour, the ER doc finally came to see us to say, mom most likely had a bowel obstruction which was causing such extreme pain & nausea and she would have to be admitted to the hospital to consult with the surgeon in the morning. but to try to clear the obstruction now, he was going to snake a tube down her nose to suck everything out of her stomach until the [real] doctor could see her the next day. the sight was heartbreaking; but we were hopeful this would help & surgery could be avoided. we sat through the rest of the night, watching crap come out of her nose (the tube was clear) and playing a new game called, “guess what mom ate today.” is it pea soup, black beans, or potatoes?  kashi, olives, or goulash? we decided she really should chew her food better. it took until 8:30 am to get her admitted into the hospital proper & into a regular room. unbeknownst to us, we were about to begin a 10 day hospital stay that we are most grateful occurred before the pres’ new health care plan takes effect.

dear reader, you might want to take a break now, fill your wine glass, check on the kids,  go pee, or put the laundry in the dryer…

part 2: centrastate staycation

there is not much to tell about this part other than we had been up for 2 days by the time  the hairy surgeon (he had puffs of chest hair gently cascading over the v-neck of his scrub top) graced mom with a visit at 6 pm the next day so he could tell us he wanted another day of observation. translation: that tube stays in your nose for a third day & surgery would be scheduled for day 4, early saturday morning. then a 6 day recovery would ensue in which i spent my days at the hospital watching my mom sleep in between tracking the ill tempered nurses down for more pain meds (no, not for me, for her) and my afternoons & nights with my children while my sis took the night shift in mom’s room. turns out minors under 18 are not allowed to visit due to the whole current swine flu thang and my kids were really upset they couldn’t see their grandmother for 10 days. graciously, hat agreed to  “pick up the slack”  for me since i am such an “unstable” mother with “comprised parenting abilities.”

the only bennie of surgery, is that afterward, my mom got to be on that really cool morphine drip. she appeared to be totally cognizant while on it, but while we weren’t there she was making bizarre cell phone calls of which she had no recollection. there were some very confused friends. and this is where my sis’ talents shined: unlike me, she doesn’t mind actually talking to peeps on the phone which was necessary to do once we realized this was going to be a We Have To Let The Family Know kind of thing. i believe CNN called it, Intestine Crisis 2009. so sis called everybody so i didn’t have to and i am most grateful.

here are some things that suck about the being in the hospital besides the actual illness that forced you there:

1. you have to pay $7.50 a day for crappy close captioned tv. plus on the weekend you still have to pay for the tv & it’s just reruns of what you watched all week.
2. elderly roommates who talk about food incessantly while your mom hasn’t been allowed to eat or drink for 10 days unless its via an IV tube.
3. dry hands from purell overuse due to constant paranoia of contracting a flesh-eating bacteria while you are there.
4. seeing old sick people & getting a horrifying glimpse into the future of your parents & yourself aging.
5. it’s soooooooo boring.
6. the smells.
7. there is quite a lot of beeping. all the time.
8. hearing random chatter from the nurses about their boyfriends & new cars. it seems like they should only discuss medical stuff, but it’s a job like any other.
9. the realization of how much goes on in a hospital: while a baby is being born, someone is dying. while someone is there for emergency surgery, someone else is there for cosmetic procedures.
10. the mind-numbing amount of endless ass-kissing that must be done to get any care & attention at all because there is a huge nursing shortage & just as you secure your spot on someone’s good side, the shift changes.

i must say, i have a whole new respect for nurses. thank god for you. i truly could never perform such vital services for so little money, poor treatment, &  thanklessness with such dedication. oh wait – i do – it’s called motherhood.

finally mom was discharged on the friday the 18th. it was like we were all being sprung from the joint.

part 3: cinderella moves in

once homeward bound, i stayed at my mom’s most of the time, taking care of her before going home to care for my girls after school. being a caretaker for an adult, especially the very adult that cared for you, is a whole different experience than taking care of your kids. here you are performing tasks for an adult that you weren’t thrilled about performing in the first place for your beloved kids. i speak of: cleaning private parts, clipping overgrown toenails, doing endless loads of laundry, being on vomit cleanup detail, constantly being at a someone’s beck and call, getting no sleep night after night, sucking up less than constructive criticism (“you know, the more you gain, the harder it is to lose...”), and listening to endless crying & moaning for which nothing you do provides relief. mothers sign on for it all and expect it. but you never expect to take care of the one who cared for you. it’s not easy. also, caring for a post-op patient involves checking oozing incisions & replacing dressings and explaining to the surgeon exactly what this goo looks like. also, discussing daily, everything that comes out of her butt to make sure her bowels are healing properly. i thought i was done with detailed poop evaluation after i successfully potty trained my rug rats several years ago.

we thought the worst was over when she was released into the wild, but the challenge was just beginning. the recovery has been brutal for her & us. the pain has not subsided much and painkillers have been a useless dead end. the resulting gas from abdominal surgery is unfathomably painful because so much air gets trapped inside when you are sewn back up.  she can’t do much but be a couch potato which drives this normally incredibly active woman out of her mind. i have called her humorless surgeon umpteen times with “emergencies,” & we now have an unspoken agreement to skip that whole step where i pretend i don’t know his cell phone number & call his answering service first to leave a message. this is where i appreciate having a sibling with whom to share the burden because when i need a break, i beg her to dump her boyfriend for the evening and come stay with mommy. sometimes it easier to have care-taking company. also, this whole experience had been extra hard on the three of us, because it has been a glaring reminder of how much we miss my dad. i do try to fill his shoes, but i feel i am a poor substitute. for my mom, she has to go through this hell without him and it is a renewal of the loneliness she has worked through for close to a year. also, the holidays with my family got a rudimentary celebration this year which was a bummer for my kids.

while staying with mom for the entire weekend after her release, Blizzard ’09 hit & i was stuck there until the plows came at 7:30 pm sunday night. i got to go home to my own un-shoveled, unplowed driveway which is basically a sheer climb like the North Face. i guess the landlord was much too busy all day sitting around to dig out so his kids wouldn’t careen down the vertical slope when walking to the bus the next day.  you know, i think if some people would put just 1/10th of the effort into complaining about me as they did into their actual parenting, they might actually be worthy super-parents. once can only dream, but i digress.

so, here are some things i learned while caring for my mom:

1. shockingly, there is actually a limit to how much HGTV i can watch.
2. though she is entitled, mom gets means when she is in pain.
3. she has tons of wonderful friends who cook well for which i & my flab are extremely grateful.
4. she has not yet upgraded to wireless internet.
5. never underestimate the importance of getting a good regular pedicure.
6. i have higher standards of fridge cleanliness than she does.
7. apparently, i have offensive chronic garlic breath.

part 4: the return

so, today is sunday the 27th, 22 days since we first began Bowel Resection ’09, and i had no intention of a part 4. i was about to post this fine piece of writing this morn, when big mama came out of the bathroom with details of which i will spare you, gentle reader. after speaking once again with her surgeon, my new bff, he insisted we bring her back to the ER today. after spending the day there & visiting with my old pals, the ER staff, it has been determined mom now has a severe urinary tract/kidney infection and is being re-admitted to the hospital tonight. most likely part of the original condition. hey, 2009, enough is enough! stop shitting all over us already. we called for out of town reinforcements to come stay with mom this week & help us. i am in a rough place – i want to take care of my mom, but i am a mother myself and my first responsibility will always be the care of my own children. i enjoy guilt on all fronts.

my sister and i are praying that this new crisis will be resolved with some strong antibiotics and she will be discharged tomorrow and a real recovery will finally ensue. we are all exhausted, spent, stressed out, & need massages. at least, i don’t have to get up for school tomorrow morning.

damn you 2009. damn you straight to hell.