Sunday, September 9, 2012
just another notch . . .
and so, it being Saturday, Joanie, Lee, Linda, their friend Laurie and I hopped in two cars and headed south to a restaurant on the river for lunch. Each of our meals came with a wonderful cinnamon bun. Not just any cinnamon bun but a ultra delicious, ooey gooey, warm from the oven, melt in your mouth, put a smile on your face cinnamon bun. Yup, that good.
We were happily chatting, scarfing down food and having a good old time enjoying the day. After three glasses of water and a full tummy, it was time for me to visit the home of the royal throne, which I proceeded to do. Nice digs, by the way. So as I was sitting there doing what comes naturally . . . aren't you glad I discuss these things on the net . . . I started to feel so not very good. My brains started reeling, my body lurching and all I could think of was getting back to the table and my friends.
No sooner did I sit back down, still feeling very, very, funky when next thing I know, everyone is standing around including the EMT's, half the restaurant staff and my buddies in crime. Evidently I passed out cold at the table and let me tell you, embarrassment is leaving a crowded restaurant on a gurney. EEK.
I threw Joanie the keys to the Miata and rode up the interstate with the sirens blaring. Not sure if it was the noise, the excitement or riding backwards but my tummy decided to revolt adding yet another notch in my embarrassment belt. And yes, we passed two other hospitals because I wanted to be on my own home turf. Once a brat, always a brat.
The ER was fun especially after being joined by Joanie and Lee. We harassed the nurses, a PA, the vulture who wanted more blood, the beautiful Isaiah Washington look-a-like who took me for a CAT scan, the xray tech, the EKG tech and finally the doctor on call.
Remember how your mother always told you to wear clean underwear in case of an accident? Was it my fault that the only pair of black undies left in my draw had somehow jumped in the bleach with a white load and looked rather faded and tie dyed? I think not.
The fourth notch on my belt had something to do with forgetting I had a bobby pin holding down a still not grown out tuft of hair that refused to stay tucked behind my ear while having the CAT scan so that the tech had to ask me if I had anything else on my head since she wasn't having fun trying to figure out how said bobby pin got inside my brain. Oops.
It might also not have been in my best interest to have told the doctor that he was not exactly inspiring my confidence as he asked me how to turn off the ever beeping machine reading my blood pressure, respiration etc. But he was a really good egg and merely replied they didn't have them when he was in school. I'm so glad he had a sense of humor.
They finally let me loose with a 24 hour heart monitor because that's what they do in unexplainable cases like mine along with papers for more blood work and an appointment with my own doc in the very near future.
Apparently, it was just one of those things . . . the depths some people will go to for a little attention.
Side Note #1: Kidlet came rushing home against my wishes even though I am glad she did. So I was forced to share the free basket of cinnamon buns the restaurant manager sent home with Joanie for me as my gong show prize for my dead fish act.
Side Note # 2: Since Joanie can drive a stick but had not done so in quite a while, one of the restaurant staff had to start the Miata for her. Never fear though, she drives it better than I do and I love that she ratted herself out.
Side Note #3: To the sweet young thing who was doing the paperwork to release me from the hospital, it might not be the most politically correct thing to tell me you 'hope I have great friends like yours when I get old', but you know what, I hope you do too!!!!
We were happily chatting, scarfing down food and having a good old time enjoying the day. After three glasses of water and a full tummy, it was time for me to visit the home of the royal throne, which I proceeded to do. Nice digs, by the way. So as I was sitting there doing what comes naturally . . . aren't you glad I discuss these things on the net . . . I started to feel so not very good. My brains started reeling, my body lurching and all I could think of was getting back to the table and my friends.
No sooner did I sit back down, still feeling very, very, funky when next thing I know, everyone is standing around including the EMT's, half the restaurant staff and my buddies in crime. Evidently I passed out cold at the table and let me tell you, embarrassment is leaving a crowded restaurant on a gurney. EEK.
I threw Joanie the keys to the Miata and rode up the interstate with the sirens blaring. Not sure if it was the noise, the excitement or riding backwards but my tummy decided to revolt adding yet another notch in my embarrassment belt. And yes, we passed two other hospitals because I wanted to be on my own home turf. Once a brat, always a brat.
The ER was fun especially after being joined by Joanie and Lee. We harassed the nurses, a PA, the vulture who wanted more blood, the beautiful Isaiah Washington look-a-like who took me for a CAT scan, the xray tech, the EKG tech and finally the doctor on call.
Remember how your mother always told you to wear clean underwear in case of an accident? Was it my fault that the only pair of black undies left in my draw had somehow jumped in the bleach with a white load and looked rather faded and tie dyed? I think not.
The fourth notch on my belt had something to do with forgetting I had a bobby pin holding down a still not grown out tuft of hair that refused to stay tucked behind my ear while having the CAT scan so that the tech had to ask me if I had anything else on my head since she wasn't having fun trying to figure out how said bobby pin got inside my brain. Oops.
It might also not have been in my best interest to have told the doctor that he was not exactly inspiring my confidence as he asked me how to turn off the ever beeping machine reading my blood pressure, respiration etc. But he was a really good egg and merely replied they didn't have them when he was in school. I'm so glad he had a sense of humor.
They finally let me loose with a 24 hour heart monitor because that's what they do in unexplainable cases like mine along with papers for more blood work and an appointment with my own doc in the very near future.
Apparently, it was just one of those things . . . the depths some people will go to for a little attention.
Side Note #1: Kidlet came rushing home against my wishes even though I am glad she did. So I was forced to share the free basket of cinnamon buns the restaurant manager sent home with Joanie for me as my gong show prize for my dead fish act.
Side Note # 2: Since Joanie can drive a stick but had not done so in quite a while, one of the restaurant staff had to start the Miata for her. Never fear though, she drives it better than I do and I love that she ratted herself out.
Side Note #3: To the sweet young thing who was doing the paperwork to release me from the hospital, it might not be the most politically correct thing to tell me you 'hope I have great friends like yours when I get old', but you know what, I hope you do too!!!!
Saturday, September 8, 2012
and yet another water color . . .
I need to work on my technique but any thing to keep me out of trouble and off the streets.
Friday, September 7, 2012
sandra revisited . . .
Kelli has a friend in my general neck of the woods who reads my blog . . . jumping up and down and waving to C. After reading about my, um, escapade with Sandra, she sent the following email to Kel who forwarded it to me. If I thought little of Sandra before, I think even less now.
You're right, C., she is a vulture. I wonder how she sleeps at night. I'm sorry you had to deal with her too. There really is a special place for her. just saying.
"Wow, I was reading Jeanne’s blog about the letter she received from Sandra Edmonds about her house.That’s the same VULTURE that came to my FRONT DOOR and rang the doorbell when Jordan was so sick and I was swamped in medical bills, and my mortgage was behind. I opened the door (and I had company over at the time), and there was this SANDRA and she started in on how she sympathized about my misfortunes with the house and how she could help, blah blah blah (right in front of my kids and my company!!).I told her she was pathetic, to get off MY property, and I slammed the door in her face.I was soooo upset for weeks.She’s a piece of work."
You're right, C., she is a vulture. I wonder how she sleeps at night. I'm sorry you had to deal with her too. There really is a special place for her. just saying.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
i spent the entire day playing . . .
photoshop. paper and glue. felt. brads. card stock. ink.
although the bulk of the time i spent playing with real life embellishments, that project won't be ready to unveil until October.
in the meantime, i found a new watercolor tutorial and came up with the above.
paint me happy.
in the meantime, i found a new watercolor tutorial and came up with the above.
paint me happy.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
friendship is . . .
getting a call at 8 something in the morning to make sure you are alright since you hadn't put the garbage out yet.
getting a call from Publix with instructions on how to get the lemon out of the squeeze bottle you've been fighting with . . . because it didn't register that the bottle would even require directions but you weren't utterly estatic using a towel and a pair of pliers.
getting wonderful art goodies in the mail from across the state that brighten your day.
suggestions for a phone-a-thon . . . I'm still giggling over that one. it made my week.
support from someone whose been there and done that and still has the heart to help you through it.
being dragged out of the cave to go kayaking, have lunch, or just lending an ear.
a kidlet who gets totally outraged on your behalf . . . p.s. she is more than a friend.
to all the women in my life: thank you for being here. i love you.
getting a call from Publix with instructions on how to get the lemon out of the squeeze bottle you've been fighting with . . . because it didn't register that the bottle would even require directions but you weren't utterly estatic using a towel and a pair of pliers.
getting wonderful art goodies in the mail from across the state that brighten your day.
suggestions for a phone-a-thon . . . I'm still giggling over that one. it made my week.
support from someone whose been there and done that and still has the heart to help you through it.
being dragged out of the cave to go kayaking, have lunch, or just lending an ear.
a kidlet who gets totally outraged on your behalf . . . p.s. she is more than a friend.
to all the women in my life: thank you for being here. i love you.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
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