6 days off the road…

shoo-wee, what a week, she says inscrutably.  Good week?  Well, I am getting better every day.  Bad week?  It’s been a lot more painful than I expected…

I have discovered that in addition to our smooth dance moves and perfect pitch, Michael Jackson and I also share a love of anesthesia!!!  That’s some good shit, man.  I was flying for 2 days, really.  To those of you who received phone calls during that time, sorry or you’re welcome, or whatever, because I don’t remember what I said.

There are about 8 stitches, 4 incisions, and they gave me a wonderful ice bag for those;  they have been the least of my complaints.  You don’t have to be a nurse to figure that I’ve been fairly obsessed with pooping.  You’d think they’d invent a better laxative, wouldn’t you?  Maybe mix it in with the Lortabs.  I  think I’ve got the problem worked out…um, TMI?

So, after I landed back on the Sonnystone runway, I began to worry.  The doctor has me a little confused, partly because he spoke to Casey after the surgery (a lot of good it would have done to talk to me), and partly because he does not use a familiar metaphor to describe the size of the cysts…  I am probably most comfortable with the citrus metaphor, e.g. “size of an orange, grapefruit” , but could easily understand using legumes in this setting, e.g. “size of a walnut, pecan”.  Dr. D, however, used size of his “pinky”  (the small, hidden ovary) versus his “thumb” (the scary ovary).   He said there was a lot of “goop” he cleaned out—all this is according to Casey–and  he mentioned “adhesions”, but said all the tissue was sent over to “the guys who own the microscopes” and he’ll share the results with me tomorrow.


No matter what the verdict, Saturday is still Derby Day!!!  and I’ll be doing Something Fun…

Breaking News

You may have noticed that I’ve been kinda quiet lately…

I’ve been very busy finishing up reports, organizing chore lists, and compiling histories so that I can be away from work for a while.

I will be having surgery tomorrow at 8am.

I had a hysterectomy back in 1988, but kept my ovaries.  About 6 years ago some cysts were noted on the ovaries and most recently there were some changes seen during a routine pelvic ultrasound.  There were some other indicators that made the doctor just a little suspicious that something was developing, so we’ll just yank those babies out tomorrow morning.

I’ll be off work for a couple of weeks and EVSC is not even sending in a sub for me.  This means that the front secretaries have to do my job and they haven’t been exactly thrilled with the prospect.   I’ve really felt the pressure from them, and it has only added to my anxiety…  I’ve done all I can…


I got a lot done in the garden this last week-end, as it will probably be the last time I’ll be able to work out there for a while.  Check it out at http://www.growingeveryseason.wordpress.com/.

I’ll be in touch…must be back to form in time for Derby Day…!


Mid-week Missive…

Halfway to Friday, Happy Hump Day…images of the camel dance through our heads.

After starting the steroids on Tuesday, I felt just fine by Friday…maybe a little headache, certainly a lot of muchies, but sooo much better… Of course, I got outside on one of those sunny, 60degree days and sprung the back again.  Okay, though…if I’m going to be laying around on a heating pad, why not have the soundtrack be torrential rain?

I ordered the carpet for the bedroom and when that arrives in a couple of weeks, we’ll be completely done with the remodel.  The pictures really don’t do it justice.  It’s zehr cool to actually have a door to my bedroom.  (It’s the little things)


check out the new pendant lamp in the window seat…


Saturday I’ll be playing piano/organ at the wedding of Kenny Thomas and Amanda Lewis.  Kenny is the son of my good friend, Kristi, and his dad is the late (and legendary)  Chuck “Grady” Thomas.  It will certainly be bittersweet to be a part of their nuptials.  I admire Kristi so much and am so honored to serve;  however, I haven’t practiced piano this much in Years!  It’s a real work-out, as any church musician will attest.    I love the music, though, and have dragged out much more than I’ll need just because…



Take heart:   the day after tomorrow is Friday…I think we’re gonna make it, friends.


Recap of backstory:   While in NYC visiting my daughter, I suffered excruciating butt pain and saw a doctor who gave me an injection of  lidocaine so I was able to survive the flight  home.

I didn’t mention it before,  but he also gave me a diagnosis of  Episacral  Fatpad  Impingement Syndrome.  Huh??  When he first said “fat” my brain clanged shut…say what did he just call me???   Even after sort of agreeing that the symptoms matched somewhat, I was still pissed at having the word, the f!  word!, used to describe any condition attached to my Self…

Today I saw my nurse practitioner.  She upgraded me to a sexier  diagnosis of Piriformis Syndrome.  Ah, yes, the good-old piriformis muscle, buried beneath my gluteals…who would suspect such a shy muscle of having such a mean streak?


No, it wasn’t caused by too much twerking…


I’ve got some stretching to do, 6 days of steroids,  and enough narco to get me back to normal (whatever that is).  So that’s that!

Thanks for your concern!  You are the nicest readers a writer could have!