November 30, 2007

11 Years Ago Today . . .

I married, at 1:30 p.m. a very wonderful man - while his fellow employees held a moment of silence. (see last years post)

I've been married 11 years today. Time flies when you are having fun - and let me tell you, we do have fun. We've been together as a couple since high school.

My house is a house of laughter. My OB told me that my son would be a happy boy because my husband was always making me laugh.

Now, you would not know it, as he is a very quiet fellow - but he is very, very funny. He and I have driven cross country - hundreds and hundreds of miles where all we did was laugh hysterically for days.

He and I once pretended to be French Tourists in British Columbia just so that I could shout out animal names in French for our amusement.

At my lowest times, and I have had a few, he has been a helpmate and friend - and always there with a smile and laugh.

But the best - the reason why my ass is three times bigger than 11 years ago - my hubby is a chef and is an absolutely amazing cook. So there!

His favorite past-time is spending time with us. The Boy and me. No other man could live with me. I could live with no other.

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November 28, 2007

Last Bits of Fall

Here is the Boy in my backyard Weds. By Weds. night, all the leaves had fallen off the bush and the trees!


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November 22, 2007

Happy Thanksgiving From My Savages To Yours

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November 16, 2007

Always On

I'm a lawyer. I've struggled a lot to get to this point in my life. I'm a lawyer. It is my profession, but not who I am. So, I was surprised to hear my husband comment to me last night: "don't you ever shut it off? Are you always in Lawyer mode?"

Shocked I guess because he is right. I can logic - is that an action? - myself out of just about any situation. I've questions swirling through my head at all times. I can usually find the angle, the story, the hidden gem. I am always on.

So, the question du jour is this: Say one is permanently disabled and then that person gets a serious but not usually fatal illness. We will call it Pneumonia.

Treatment for a serious bout of pneumonia involves antibiotics and also possibly help breathing.

Now, say the person doesn't get any better after 4 weeks of treatment in intensive care for pneumonia. Still on a ventilator, still eating through a tube.

Ok, got it? Now, throw in the monkey wrench of a living will which provides no heroic measures, no resucitation. Being placed on the ventilator for a serious but not fatal illness isn't resucitation and was done with the understanding that the person would be well soon.

Ok, still with me? Now, say that person decides to end treatment for the pneumonia. That is an individual's right, isn't it? To end treatment for an illness.

Ahhh, another monkey wrench! Ending treatment may mean a slow, painful death from being unable to breathe because the lungs remain filled with fluid. Then again, it may not.

So, say the doctors end treatment but the lungs don't work and the patient needs resucitated - enter living will.

Ahhh, another monkey, another wrench - the doctor violates HIPPA by calling select family members and informing them of the decision of the patient to end treatment - thus causing the family to enter into a flurry of activity aimed at "gently" persuading said patient to change his mind. . .

Oh wait, did I tell you there were many monkeys at this particular garage?

Here's another, after ordering not one but two psych evaluations to prove mental instability - because really, who would want to die when all they have is pneumonia? The doctor announces to all present that he refuses to follow the patient's wishes because it would be "murder." Since when? If he was a Jehovah's Witness he could refuse treatments!

Oh, but the kicker, the blessed kicker - said patient is a tetraplegic. He has very limited use of his hands and has limited range of motion in his arms andno feeling from his breastbone down. He's been this way for over 20 years, has had two failed suicide attempts that have depleted him of yet more of his physical abilities - what little he had - including the ability to speak without souding like a smoker because of a tracheostomy tube.

After I've gone through all the legal scenarios, all the personal civil rights violations and also the indignity of it all, I come to this: God let him live through two attempts on his own life, he has played the hand he's been dealt - and we are at a crossroads. He has been shown an opportunity - to end medical treatment - the result being the possible end of his life - possible. Perhaps this was in his cards all along?

The problem? Family. Family - compassionate yet jarringly selfish. Content to watch him suffer, to make the obligatory holiday or illness visit, but not content to let a grown man of sound mind decide his own fate - take charge of his own health or lack thereof.

I struggle with the legal side of this potpouri of violations only to come to the realization that perhaps this was God's plan. And to wonder why I am not as selfish - my dear husband will lose an uncle, a father figure, his god father, his mother's twin. Why am I content to allow that to happen? To respect his dignity and his wishes? Is it the law - has it jaded me to human emotion? Certainly it isn't a lack of intimacy. I've known him for nearly 15 years. In 15 years I've seen him leave his bed only during the holidays. 15 years of bed sores, the inability to bath oneself, to brush one's teeth. 15 years of watching the world drive by through a picture window in an overwarm bedroom.

I watched as he struggled to bring a hand to my tiny son's head to brush away the whispy hairs. I watched as he watched the children run around the room longingly. I listened as he described how his cat would curl up on his hospital bed to keep him company in his tiny, stifling bedroom. 15 years of being able to feel pain but not being able to feel his legs. 15 years of a constant morphine drip that didn't dull anything but the senses.

Perhaps, I am jaded, but not because of the law. Because for 15 years I witnessed a struggle I would not wish on my worst enemy - ok, well, maybe my worst - or Hillary Clinton . . .

Next week, God willing, I'll say goodbye to a man who I have both pitied and admired. Next week, God willing. He'll say goodbye to the body-sack he has lived in for over 20 years.

I wonder, does it make me a bad person to want this for him?

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It Snows . . .

We has us some snow folks, just a sprinkle, looks like powdered sugar . . .

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80 degrees a couple weeks ago and now we have snow. . . My life at the moment, sunshine and snow - in an evil narnia ice queen sorta way. I may be dark for a while, while life gets a little sorted out . . .

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November 13, 2007

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Today is the birthday of a dear friend. I am so very blessed to know her - she listens to me rant and rave about the silliest things, yet she is always there. I literally have withdrawal from her if I don't talk to her at least once every few days!

So, my wonderful friend, I am proud to be part of your circle. I hope your day is fabulous! A very happy birthday to you! Oh, and Richmond . . . I got you a present below the fold . . . It's a birthday cake!

OH, DID I FORGET TO MENTION IT WAS A BIRTHDAY "BEEF"-CAKE? MY BAD!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

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November 08, 2007

As Heard In The Car

While driving to Walmart - or as I like to call it "Hell on Sale":

Boy: Something is wrong momma.
Me: What now?
Him: I'll check, you drive and don't get us killed!

*****

Him: Laughing
Me: What now?
Him: The Boy got a zipper stuck on his teeth!
Me: *on the phone* "I gotta go, my kid got a zipper stuck in his mouth"
Boy: *Crying* It is really stuck . . . Waaaahhhhh!
Boy: *Suddenly not crying* Oh, it's ok momma, I got it out!

Seriously, you cannot make this shit up!

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November 05, 2007

And your little dog too!

To the stupid bint who insisted upon driving the shoulder on the BRIDGE this morning to pass as much traffic as possible, then proceeded to cut in front of me and give ME the finger . . . I hope you get food poisoning today!

To the jagoff who thought it'd be cool to prank call me at 3 a.m., I hope your genitals shrivel up and fall off.

To the asscrack that purchased the last diet coke in the machine today - may it be flat.

To all you yahoos out there who insist on riding my six when I am driving 80 frickin miles an hour! Next time - I slam on the breaks, I've got good insurance, do you?

Oh, and just for good measure . . . to the person whole stole my booster seat at the airport last week - we saw it go into the plane - I hope the lingering smells of my Boy's puke come back to haunt you, cause seriously, you can't wash that shit out!

Can you tell I'm having one of those days?

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November 01, 2007

The Haul

This is my baby's haul. He got washed up after trick or treating, took off the spidey costume and dumped out the haul. The only things missing were what he ate "on the road" and a can of soda someone gave him. Oh, the toys . . . specifically the hot wheels were given to him by the neighbor in his "trick or treat" bag - she is such a sweet neighbor!

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