Note: You must imagine Jaws theme song while you read this. Also if you have a relatively calm life, please keep it to yourself.
Seriously, you guys are probably convinced by now that I'm a whiny middle-age woman suffering from panic attacks, lack of sex and an overactive sense of drama. Two of those are true and I was beginning to wonder if I was developing a persecution complex. The old 'why-me' frame of mind...until yesterday. That's when I knew for sure it's not me and I'm considering hiring a private detective to hunt down the evil culprit who has a voodoo doll of me and is intent on torturing me into insanity.
Whoever said, "Truth is stranger than fiction" knew what they were talking about. In my wildest imagination I couldn't make this shit up, nor would I want to subject any of my characters to the Hell that has become my life.
You all know that Bill has had two surgeries this month and I have not left his side as I pray for him to recover. It's exhausting to see him in so much pain and if he's getting better, it happening so slowly I can't see it. The new pain medication is both a blessing and a curse as now I get to sit at the table and watch his eyes roll back in his head many times a day. On the plus side he seems drugged enough to be able handle the other crap raining down on us.
Late Sunday night we got a call from our the fiancee of our youngest son (#3). He was in excruciating pain at the hospital. His gall bladder, liver, kidney and pancreas labs were all horrible. Because of his previous gastric by-pass two years ago, they could not find a surgeon to operate. Upstate in Syracuse wouldn't take him, they were only taking trauma. Neither of the hospitals in Utica would take him as the surgery to remove his gall-bladder would be tricky. Finally they shipped him off by ambulance to Albany Medical Center (a drive of several hours) for emergency surgery, which by the way has still not happened and it's Tuesday! He was running a 104.2 fever, and they have done test after test trying to decide how to approach the mess that is his belly. Right now I am waiting for a call with a time for surgery some time today. At this point I'm wondering if they are trying to let the infection kill him so they don't have to operate at all.
My oldest daughter, an angel of Mercy, hopped in her vehicle and went to Albany to be with her baby-brother, her term not mine, although he will be 32 this year.
While waiting for news the next morning, I spoke with son #2 around 9:30 a.m, giving him an update. He sounded fine, was visiting a friend of his in Utica and I would call him later. At 12:15 I got a frantic call from his wife. Son #2 was having a heart attack and 911 had been called. She was at least 45 minutes away from the trauma center and would get there as fast as she could. I immediately called son #1, who works nearby and asked him to hurry to the hospital. The ambulance ride was only about 3 minutes, but long enough to determine the danger my son was in and a team was standing by as soon as they got to St. E's. He was in the cath unit before son #1 even got there and out again before his wife arrived. They found a big clot, put in a stent and saved his life. YAY, St. E's! He's now in Cardiac ICU, but should get moved to the heart unit today.
My sister # 2 and her husband arrived at our house quickly to provide support to Bill and I. Sister #3 called and asked if I wanted her to fly home. The phone rang non-stop with friends and family offering to help in anyway. Youngest daughter and fiance arrived last evening and did whatever she could to help.
So, to sum it all up, since 9/10 we have had 2 vascular surgeries, one very sad death of a family member, one heart attack and if they do son #3's surgery today all this would have happened in 19 days. Xanax is my new best friend! I tell myself that things could be worse, and surely they could be, but good Lord, I need a break from this. Sparkling lights were literally dancing in front of my eyes when the call came about the heart attack. If you see anyone carrying about a voodoo doll that resembles me, kindly slap the crap out of them.
This page, Stevie Spouts Off, will be reserved for my rants and raves. See the teapot at the top of the page blowing it's lid? Well, sometimes that's me. I plan to use this page to vent as well as cheer, so if you like witnessing meltdowns, this might be the page for you.