My Day In Mostly Pictures

My mom called me early this morning and asked me to come pick her up. She told me they wanted her out of the hosptial by 11am. This picture was taken at 1pm. We were still waiting for her discharge papers.

This is what your arms look like when you: a) have a bleeding disorder

b) have been taking Prednisone for a long time and

c) have a dumb ass trying to start your IV.

My mom has great veins. She offers herself up to nursing students when she is in the infusion clinic because she knows they will be able to get her IV in on the first stick. She also lets phlebotomy students practice on her in the lab. They never miss. They stuck her SIX times to find an IV before surgery. That IV didn't even last through the surgery and she was stuck THREE more times. Both arms are covered with bruises, above are the lightest ones.

She lost 12 pounds in 5 days in the hospital. All she wanted was a milkshake when we finally left the hospital.

She got a coconut shake. She loved it. Drank every drop.

Storm coming in from the east.

It looks scary on the right side of the freeway.

But so gorgeous on the left side.

I'm tired. Going to bed.

Back to Mom's house tomorrow for nurse duty.

Woo Hoo!

Dog Days Of Fontana.

We have always been a "Dog" family. As long as I can remember, almost everyone in my family has had at least one dog in their home. Much to the chagrin of my Grandpa, Chuck, the dogs were treated as family members. Grandpa would bring a dog home, tell us it was a hunting dog and we were to keep away from it. Well, as soon as he would leave the house. The dog came in and was spoiled.

My Nana, Ferne, my mom and her sister, Marian, and I could not resist. To this day I don't really understand the concept of an "outside" dog, I actually find it a little mean. Dogs are pack animals; they want to be with their pack, even if the other members are humans. The women in the family "ruined" a: German Shorthaired Pointer, an Irish Setter and a Springer Spaniel. Finally, Grandpa gave up and stopped bringing home hunting dogs.

My grandparent's house was without a dog for a few years. Around my 6th birthday, my uncle brought home a male Springer Spaniel. We named him "Tigger". He was from champion lineage, but as a result of irresponsible in breeding, he had problems. Bad ears that was prone to infections and too many "jowls". To add insult to injury, he was a little dimwitted. We loved him nonetheless and he was welcomed into "our" pack.

When Tigger was about 6 months old, my Aunt saw a man beating his dog. She started yelling at the man to stop. He was pissed because the dog had eaten his peppers in his garden. Aunt Marian said if he did not stop, she was going to report him. He said; "If you care so much about this dog, you take her!" She did. That is how we got our second Springer Spaniel, Daisy May.
Grandpa had not been thrilled with Tigger's arrival. When Daisy May showed up, he almost blew a gasket. He started bitching about how much money it would cost him to feed the dogs, the cost of the grooming, the cost of the vet bills, etc. He said he wasn't going to pay for any of it, "You three need to get a God-damned job to pay for those God-damned dogs. I am not gonna pay for a God-damned cent!" I knew he was all talk, but over the next few months, he kept repeating the same thing, over and over again.

Eventually, Nana had enough of his bellowing, so she told him; "Chuck, you be quiet. I am taking the dogs for a walk each night and while I am walking, I collect cans. I will pay for the dogs with the money I get for the cans." My Aunt Marian and I thought Grandpa would say he didn't want his wife walking around town collecting cans like a hobo, but he didn't. Both were stubborn and neither would give in.

So every night, after the 11 o'clock news, Nana would walk her dogs and collect cans. I would go with her most of the time. I would wear my roller skates and skate along side her. We would head out on Orange Avenue, cross Sierra Blvd, stop at City Hall so the dogs could swim in the fountain and I could practice my groovy roller disco moves on the smooth cement. Then turn on Palmetto, take it down to Arrow Blvd and maybe stop at the Post Office if we needed to mail some letters, then back onto Nuevo Avenue. We had a routine, unless the dogs needed a shorter or longer walk.
Nana was getting a bit obsessive with her can collecting. She would even go through garbage cans looking for cans. It was embarrassing. But neither Nana nor Grandpa would budge.

Until one morning...

My Aunt Marian woke up late for school, so Nana had to give her a ride. Marian was so late, that Nana had to drive her wearing her housecoat and slippers. On the way to FoHi, Nana saw a can in the middle of the road. Marian saw the look in Nana's eyes and said "Don't you dare! You will make me really late!" So Nana kept on going and dropped Marian off in the nick of time.

On the way home, she saw the can. Since she wasn't dressed, she didn't want to get out of the car. So she drove up slowly along side the can, opened her car door and leaned down to pick up the can. When she did this, her foot slipped off the gas pedal, the car started rolling forward, Nana fell out of the car and the car's back tires rolled over her right ankle before heading down Nuevo Avenue without her.

Luckily, Dr. Goldstein, our family doctor, was just coming to work. He saw Nana lying in the middle of the road and rescued her. A little later, Grandpa was coming home and he noticed a fuzzy pink slipper in the middle of the road. Then he noticed that Nana's car was on the side of the road. He went home to see what was going on...no one was home. Nana's coffee still sat at the kitchen table, the paper open. He was worried. Just then, the phone rang. It was the doctor, he told Grandpa that Nana was okay, and she had just sprained her ankle. Grandpa asked how, the doctor told him about the can. Then, Dr. Goldstein said; "You know Chuck, if money is tight, I know a few people who are looking to remodel. I could probably throw a few jobs your way."

Grandpa never gave Nana a hard time about the cost of dog ownership again.

Don't You Have Something To Do?

Shouldn't you be:

At church?
Walking off all those calories you consumed at the Seder?
Participating in a Pagan festival celebrating fertility and spring?
Hanging out with relatives, eating too much?


Looking for eggs?

Biting the butt of a chocolate bunny?

Don't you have:

A bonnet to put on?

A hot bun to cross?

An egg roll to attend?

A parade to watch?


Stop reading this and go do something!


Happy Easter, Belated Happy Passover, Belated Happy Spring, Happy Pagan Celebration, etc.

What Did You Call Me?

We seem to have an issue with names in our family. I have about 4 or so names that I will answer to and Mr. Misha has at least 5. I am not talking about pet names, I am talking about names our family, friends, co-workers and acquaintances call us. We are not criminals. We do not have records. We are not in the witness protection program. It just happens that I have a very common first name, so I got a few nicknames. My husband on the other hand, he has a stage name, a Polish name, his legal name, his other stage name and his married name- Mr. Misha.

It gets even more ridiculous with our dogs. Both of our dogs are from rescue. We didn't get to choose their names, they came with them. Our Cocker Spaniel's name is Mimi and our Pug's name is Harley. They weren't names we would have chosen for them, so consequentially they have received a long list of alternative names while living with us.

If I list them in a evolutionary kind of way, one can see how the names developed.




Harley:
Pug
Puglet
Pugnacious Bean
Harley Bean Barley Corn
Butter Bean
Baby Headed Pug
The Dutches Of Snarfleshire
Adopted Chinese Baby from Szechwan Province
Dim Sum Dog
Ching Chong China Pug (not Politically Correct, I know)
Mrs. Swan
Crotchety Broad
Bolivian Fruit Bat
Gollum
Pug Roast




Mimi:
Meemers
Meems
Meemarino
Cocker
Cockie Spannel
Cocker Spannel Channel
Cocker Doodle Doo
Crockodile
Wigglebutt
Princess Wigglebutt of Cocker Doodle Doo
Velcro Cocker
Needy
Chenille Afghan Dog
Leggy Blond Supermodel Dog
Cocker Chops
Pin Nosed Cocker
Lamba
Jeebus Lamba
They seem to answer best to their actual names and their breed. The poor dogs are probably so confused.

Eye Popping Television

Behold, the cuteness that is our little girl pug, Harley. She also goes by Puglet, Bean or The Dutchess of Snarfleshire. We are a bit ridiculous about our dogs. So it is no surprise that if there is a show on about our breed of dogs, we will watch it.























The other day, Mr. Misha and I were watching this video about Pugs:



Everything was fine until we got to the part about the eyeballs. Mr. Misha has a thing about eyeballs. He doesn't like to talk about them. He doesn't want to touch them or see them touched. And when this show started talking about how Pug's eyeballs are known to POP OUT- he almost lost it. It really traumatized him.

Now, every once in awhile, I will hear him in the other room petting our little pug and saying to her, "Don't worry, Daddy won't squeeze you too hard. I won't make your eyeball pop out." Thank goodness she doesn't understand English.

Vibes

My mom is having surgery on her back today.

She is scheduled to go under the knife around 7:30am PST.

Send some good vibes or juju or prayers or whatever her way if you are so inclined, will ya?

Thanks.

Ack.

I had a doctor appointment Wednesday afternoon at 4pm.

Guess what time I was finally seen?

6pm.

How long did she spend with me?

5 minutes.

What happened?

Nothing. "Keep doing what you are doing, come back in a month."

But when I got out of the exam room at 6:05 pm. The receptionist had gone home- AT 5PM. So I will have to make my appointment another time.

Two hours and five minutes I will never get back.

I Had A Couple Of Babies Sunday Night-I'm Exhausted.

I am getting this one in just by the skin of my teeth. I am only getting this post in because all but one of the pregnant ladies in town delivered their baby in the last 24 hours. The last one is here and I am slowly trying to coax the baby out. I am watching her baby's fetal heart rate and her contractions on a flat screen TV here at the nurse's station while she sleeps. I am waiting for the next busload of pregnant ladies to drop in. Last night was fun, but I would have appreciated time to pee and 15 minutes to shove some food in my gullet. Tonight, I get to eat my lunch AND write this-such luxury!



One of the ServPro dudes came by this morning before I went to sleep. The only places that are still damp are Mr. Misha's bathroom and the kitchen. So he was able to remove 6 fans and a dehumidifier. I am hoping that my eyeball juice will regenerate itself when this is all over- until then, I encourage you all to buy stock in Carmex and Visine. Mr. Misha and I are going through it like it's crack. I wonder how the dogs have not seemed to be bothered by the drop in humidity. I keep checking their noses and eyes- they seem fine.



I have the next 10 days off. Goals for my days off:

• Get my mom safely through her hospital stay. She is having spine surgery on Thursday. If she survives the hospital stay without getting an infection or a bad bleed, I will be happy. Surgery scares her-recovery scares me. It's all about perspective.

• Get a floor installed in my house. This is complicated by the fact that my landlord was just seated on a jury Monday. I hope the case is short and they don't deliberate long. I need her to be out of the courthouse so we can get the ball rolling with the reconstruction. I WANT THIS OVER WITH.

• Get re-certified for Neonatal resuscitation. I have to do it every two years. It's relatively easy, it's just time consuming.

• Get the dogs to the vet and get their shots up to date.

• Get the house put back together and arrange a charity pick-up of all the stuff I am purging.

• Get the backyard cleaned up and ready for the summer.

• Get some sleep.

• Get a pedicure.

I think that is a reasonable list? Isn't it? I will be enlisting the help of my nephew, Joseph, do all of the heavy lifting and manual labor. I think I can do it. Stay tuned.

Happy Birthday Mr.Misha

Today is Mr. Misha's birthday. He is turning 45. I found out on our first date that he was born at the hospital that I now work at, birthing babies. The first time I met his mom, she told me the story of his birth. It is quite cute, especially when you hear it in her Polish accent. So that is how I decided to write it, in her words.
















"Honey, za pains kept comink and I kept pooooshink. One time, before za next pain, an announcement came ofer za loud zpeaker; 'Lady and Gentleman, General Mac Arthur has joost die'. Well, I could not think, za pain come again and I must poosh. Zo, I am poooshink and poooshink, and zen, ze doctor he say 'Mrs. Knee-Klev-Itch, you have ze leetle general!' And zere was Pawel. Bud he deed not look like general to me, he look like za colt. Like leetle horse on my bellie, wit arms hangink off one of my sides and legz hanging off zee ozzer side. I am not big wooman, and Pawel was BIG boy. When Stan make to za hospital, he get so exzited that we have boy after two girl.....he forget he is on third floorz and walk right into window, knock himself out!"

Happy Birthday Husband and Thank You Emilia, for birthin' your son.

Forward Payment

My friend Lauren posted this on her blog. I think I was too late in responding, but I like the idea of making something and sending it out into the world. Hopefully, it will make the recipient laugh or smile or feel good in some way. So here I go:

I hereby pledge to make something for the first 5 persons who respond to AND agree to the conditions of this blog/offer. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations so please read carefully:

1. I make no guarantees that you will like what I make. What you get is what you get.
2. What I create will be just for you.
3. It'll be done this year (2009).
4. I will not give you any clue what it's going to be.
5. It may be something that needs to be mailed, so you'd have to be willing to provide a viable address.
6. In return, all you need to do is post this text into a blog or bulletin of your own and make 5 things for the first 5 to respond to your note.

IMPORTANT:
This offer is null and void if you do not post your own blog/bulletin to pay this forward.

So folks, act fast!