Life is strange. All things happen for a reason, but occasionally I wish God would send me an email and spell it out. "Vicki, you twit, that's not what I want you to do, do this instead!" I'm pretty hard headed. It usually takes a couple of whops to get my attention. I guess I've had those this month. So Lord, I'm listening. Just for your entertainment, here are a couple of pics from the hospital. One is of Stephanie, one of the lovely ladies that made my stay at Casa Cox South bearable. The other is of me doing what I do. Work on my computer and look yellow (Atabrine folks, makes the skin look yellow but my eyes are still white, no liver problems here). Me and my Mac are not soon separated. Note the stuffed kitty. My momma loves me, she got me a kitty because she knew I missed my babies. I probably have that goofy morphine look. Oh well. I think you can see Spike and Buster off to the left, just hanging out like the gang should be.
The arm is doing better, the second clot was up around ye old armpit but the pain is better. I did end up having to take Lovenox shots in my stomach for 6 days and they doubled my rat poison intake. Evidently I must have sludge for blood. They wanted me to give myself the shots and, after I woke up, I said I didn't think that was a good idea. Luckily I have an awesome friend in the medical profession who was kind enough to give me my shots. The most comical setting was the Sunday shot at the hospital (no, it wasn't me in this time, but my grandmother). My friend came over and visited with my parents, sister and I and then we adjourned to the restroom to get my shot. We had my friend's Dr. ID in case someone came in and saw us shooting up in the girls room. There was lots of giggling going on. Luckily, we had no witnesses. I thought my Sunday shot was my last one (it started originally with 3) but after bloodwork on Monday, we got another round of 3 plus a double on the rat poison. Guess I'll be on that for a very long time.
For those of you who want a piece of me this week, forget it. I'm booked. I'm living at Ferrell-Duncan all this week. Everyday. Doctor hopping. Bloodwork schmoozing. Everyone knows me by name at the cashiers desk and lab. They are all very nice, too. Of course, since Hobby Lobby has a 40% off coupon this week, I printed 10 or 15 of them and I use one a day and hand them out to everyone I see. It makes the trip to the southside of town worth it. After I found out I had the blood clots, I called my husband and told him, and of course he was upset, so I told him I was so depressed that I needed to go spend some money at a couple of craft stores. I was hoping I could squeeze three out of it, but I evidently didn't work it hard enough. Opportunity lost. Bummer. Dumb bean counter...
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