A Tad Bit of Delirium

Michael's procedure went very well yesterday. They knocked him out, stuck the tube down his throat, thrust a balloon in his esophagus and then dilated it. Apparently he's suffered from moderate to severe heartburn long enough that there is scar tissue built up in there. That has been causing some issues that he would like to avoid in the future.

He was still pretty groggy when they called me back to the post-surgery area. The doctor came to talk to us and the first thing I noticed, (after the man's lack of stature), was the rapid fire way that Michael was asking questions. He kept interrupting the doctor and wouldn't let him complete a full sentence. Don't get me wrong, Michael was asking good questions...he was just asking them like he would never, ever, get to see another medical professional for the rest of his life that would be able to answer these questions. They also gave us complete written records in case Michael didn't believe me later when I reminded him that he was to stick to soft food, and not to eat meat or drink alcohol for at least 24 hours.

After the doctor left, Michael proceeded to show me how he could alter his heart rate, by ONLY USING HIS MIND. I hope he keeps using this super power for good instead of evil. Then his nurse came in with a a small cup of liquid.

Nurse: Here is your Diet Coke.

Michael: My what?

Nurse: Your Diet Coke.

Michael: Why are you giving me a Diet Coke?

Nurse: Because you asked for it.

Michael: I ASKED for a DIET COKE?

At this point both the nurse and I are laughing at his utter disbelief in requesting a Diet Coke. In all honesty, in 15 years of marriage I have never heard him ask for a Diet Coke, so I do understand his surprise.

Michael of course wanted to know what else he had said that he didn't remember and the nurse side-stepped that a bit. She claimed that patients usually got too embarrassed when they heard the nonsense they were spouting, so she kept that entertainment to herself. Michael was persistent though, so she provided him with this dialogue exchange that occurred while she was adjusting his IV:

Michael: You have really cold hands!

Nurse: You know what they say, cold hands, warm heart.

Michael: No, I think you just have poor circulation.

That's my boy, wooing the women with his honesty. I guess I don't have to worry about his ability to flirt with others.

He made it back home late that morning, and his only request to me was for a veggie omelet, grits and a biscuit. Good thing we live in the South. This of course was after he said he wanted to grill something for lunch. When I asked WHAT he planned to grill, he responded with "I don't know, sausage sounds good". Isn't sausage a meat? A reminder to take away the propane tank.

Prescription, lunch, slippers on his feet, corgi near by...I felt safe that he would behave himself if I went off to work. It seems like he did fine, and he seemed to be feeling good when I came home from a partner dinner later in the evening. When asked though what he made for dinner, he responded with 'pasta'. And then sheepishly added that it had sausage in it. Apparently my dear boy needs to flirt less and listen more. Patient #1090480, you are lucky that you are cute.

No Offense to Old People

At the moment I am sitting in the waiting room of the Wake Endoscopy Center. In his attempt to surpass Elizabeth and odd ailments, Michael is having a gastrointestinal endoscopy this morning. His doctor expects that he is suffering from esophageal dysphagia (difficulty moving food through the esophagus to the stomach) and will need minor surgery today. Basically they will stick a tube down his throat, blow up a balloon and attempt to open up the esophagus.

When I was reading up on dysphagia, I was not at all surprised to learn that it is most common in the elderly. Elizabeth, Michael is really trying to overtake your old person disease count. Good thing she's already taken hip replacement, or I'd have to start strapping bumpers around Michael's waist when he goes running.

Speaking of old people, I spent the past two days at the Sheraton in Durham for an off-site meeting. While the Sheraton may not always be associated with the elderly, it sure was this week! On site was the Grand Chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star - the largest fraternal organization that allows both men and women. It was founded in 1850, and from the looks of the attendees, all members were actually born between the inception and 1900. On the first night they had a formal event and it looked like the formal night on a cruise. That is if the cruise was the Titanic and all the original passengers were still alive and wearing gowns. Very entertaining. One of my colleagues said it was the first time he had seen double-parking in the handicapped spaces. Those were some precious commodities.

Back to Michael and the story at hand. This is the year we've challenged him to get healthy because I require a higher degree of confidence that he will live longer than me. I am presently feeling pretty damn good, so he is not allowed to fall behind. Hence the running, the gym, the doctor visits, the blood work and all the other fun tests he is currently being subjected to. Ticks and esophageal blockages be damned, this man needs to add on some years. I quite like him.

Michael's poor family has had a rough week, so please wish them well. Grannie went into the hospital, Terry had shoulder manipulation and back surgery, (coming home today, we hear!), and Donna was home alone during a terrible storm last evening. Apparently there were tornado warnings in Dallas and winds upwards to 80 MPH. We are sorry to hear that a portion of their roof came off. Here's hoping for a much better week ahead for the family.

I think we can do it

Although it is going to be warm this week, it is nothing like it was last year. It was our first week and it was 100 degrees or hotter EVERY DAY. And we were living in the plastic house with it's minimal and immature landscaping. There was no hiding from the intense sun. Sometimes I am surprised we didn't just turn the car back around. But then that would have meant we were in the car...driving...again. Yeah, scratch that.

At least our big trees keep it tolerable in the neighborhood. The swarms of mosquitoes have been behaving, so I am only been bit a dozen times or so. Since these are spread out over my whole body, I am still dealing. Once the summer really rolls in, I will have a dozen on every body part. I swear they just start biting on top of bites. Delightful.

Speaking of bugs...we saw about six roaches milling around near the stone wall along the sidewalk a couple nights back. While that is still a great distance from the house, and I haven't seen them inside anywhere, I still freaked a little. I hate, hate, hate them. So I think Orkin will be getting a call.

Michael swears that he sees the nasty black things almost every weekend when he works in the yard. That is not inspiring me to help him. I think my contribution to the yard will be the management of the fence fund. That seems pretty damn bug free.

Get me out of the car

I am not quite sure if either of us think of NC as 'home' yet, but we are trying. I can say with certainty though, that on the drive here we would have called anyplace home, as long as we could have gotten out of the car. And stayed out. Even the corgi was thinking "ENOUGH". She seemed to sleep less and stare more as the trip wore on.

Day 4 took us from Little Rock to Knoxville. This wasn't a terribly long day and the scenery was beautiful. I took a bit of a risk by taking the photo of the Tennessee state line, but I think it was worth it.

We arrived at the Knoxville La Quinta while there was still daylight. It was such a freakin novelty. The hotel was new and had only been open for a couple weeks. That meant there were few guests, and Iona and I actually got to run up and down the empty hallway without bothering anyone. I don't know who enjoyed it more. I got to run and she was off leash. We were pathetically happy.

The FIFTH AND FINAL day actually took us into North Carolina. I actually wanted to burst into tears as Iona stood peeing for the first time in our new state. We actually made it. And a year later, we are still here. Plastic house and mosquitoes be damned; we are still here.