The Post That Was Written Between Naps

Well, here I am. 

I’m afraid I won’t have a whole lot to offer in the way of witty witticisms, wise wisdom or wry . . .um . . . wryness.  

What I do have to offer, however, is a drugged up, spaced out brain which is causing me to spend a lot more time on each sentence than I’m used to.  I keep on having to reconfigure the misplaced letters and recombobulate the misspelled words that somehow managed to sneak from my brain to my finger tips without even consulting me first.  And I thought my fingers were better trained than that!

But anyway---off to my surgery report. 

Let me first say that having one’s surgery done in the afternoon instead of early morning is not a good thing.  I didn’t mind so much not being allowed to eat; it was the not drinking stipulation that just about did me in.  I drink a whole lot of water every day and to go for 15 hours with nary a sip?  It was tough.

The morning hours seemed to drag by, especially since we got to Greenville an hour earlier than my scheduled 1 pm check-in time.  The surgical nurse had told me last week that many times they run ahead during surgery and if they did, they'd call me to come in earlier.

But alas. No call.

The longer the wait stretched out, the more I started to feel a little bit of that yucky pre-surgery anxiety creep in. Tuesday’s surgery was my third “put to sleep” surgery in less than six months and even though the two previous surgeries went well, I‘m still not real crazy about scalpels cutting into my very own personal skin; I’m also not real crazy about the thought of having a breathing tube stuck down my throat.  And then of course, there is always the background buzz of worry about the results and how things things will turn out in the “revision and repair” department.

With no last minute phone call, we killed some time around town and got to the Surgery Center at 1 pm.  By that time, I could have knocked back two gallons of water without even stopping to breathe.

Part of the pre-opping activities included providing a urine sample.  I remembered I had done that for the previous surgeries as well, but I never asked why. This time around I found out that the test was to determine whether or not I was pregnant.

About ten minutes later the nurse came back into my little curtained off cubicle and happily announced, “The pregnancy test was negative.”

I looked at her and said, “If you would have told me the test was positive, I would have passed out cold right here, right now and the anesthesiologist wouldn’t even have to show up for my surgery!”

During the whole pre-op process—height and weight recorded, oxygen level noted, blood pressure and temperature taken, IV started, and really fashionable support stockings applied to my person—I kept one eager, earnest eye on the clock, waiting for the magical time of 2:15 to come around so that I could be given my happy medicine and wheeled on back to the operating room.

However, at about 2 pm, the nurse poked her head in and said, “By the way, Dr Franklin is running late today; it’ll be at least another hour until he’s ready for you.”

An hour?  A whole nother hour?  With no water?  With no nuthin’?

And what was worse, they couldn’t even give me my dose of relaxing medicine early because the surgeon still had to come by and have me sit up on bed so he could get out his little magic marker thingie and draw all over my “relevant skin area.”  (I’m sure what he used was much more high tech than a magic marker, but that’s what it looked like to me.)

So I spent a long hour lying on my little gurney in my curtained off cubicle, attempting to read some magazines, which turned out to be a bit of a challenge since I had an IV in the right hand and couldn’t turn pages very well. Unfortunately, my bed was turned right toward a huge clock on the wall and I must say that I have never ever seen a minute hand move more slowly in my entire life.

At long last, the surgeon arrived and did his Magic Marker-ing;  I got my little dose of relaxing medicine and we were off! To the O.R!  Finally!  Hurray!  Let’s git ‘er done, already!

Woke up in recovery an hour later with just a little pain—actually, my throat hurt a lot more than the surgical area did.   I was ecstatic to get my first sip of something cool and to munch on a few Saltines.  Utter bliss.  

We arrived back home about 9 am.  I downed 27 gallons of water, took my round of meds and went to bed.  It was such a fabulous feeling to be at home and have it all over with!

I’ll have a follow up appointment next Monday and in the meantime, I will actually be allowed to shower! I don’t even have to wait a whole week, like I did the last time.

The only bad things?  The infamous Girdle Bra has made a reappearance and has to be worn 24/7 for at least a week.  Or more.  And my throat is still very painful and I can barely even talk.

But at least it’s over. 

And now I’m going back to bed for a little while to give my poor befuddled brain  (and fingers) a break!

Thanks for your prayers and encouraging words; you guys are the best blog family ever!

Made It.

We got home at 9:15 last night and I went straight to bed. Five hours on the road plus surgery is a pretty tiring way to spend the day!

I'm headed back to bed (pain meds are causing me to be loopy and I have to keep correcting the words I'm writing) I'll try and write a little more as the day goes along.

Pictures on a Tuesday

Since today’s surgery has stolen my writing time, I’ll let a few miscellaneous pictures say my thousand words for me.

A Manteo beauty.

Some more Manteo beauty.

An area coffee shop where I recently met a new friend who is also a singer/songwriter.

 

 

I think this pose looks exactly like one of those pop/folk/modernist duos you see on CD covers.  They really weren’t posing in particular; we had just gone outside to take pictures for something else and I snapped this picture so I could see what the light was like.

Reflections on a Smith House.

The Sarah’s Room Painting Project Continues.

 

  

Feet of a photographer.

Face of a photographer’s doggie.

Snowy headed downstairs from Sarah’s room.

Don’t even ask . . .

Offended By The Weather

There are few things I love more than getting to stay inside when the weather is cold, windy and rainy. There is something marvelously cocoon-y about settling into a comfy chair with a good book while the nasty weather spits and spatters against the windows.

But alas.

This week? This week when I will have surgery and be housebound for 7-10 days? This week is supposed to be sunny. Wisps of wind. Temps in the mid 70’s. Low humidity. In other words, Perfect Fall Weather.

Don’t you think the weather could have taken a bit of pity on me and come up with lots of rain? Cold temps? Whipping winds? All in order to make my indoor stay more pleasant? And cocoon-y?

But no. It has to be beautiful.

I am so very offended.

Okay. All Weather Whining aside, I am happy to report that these past few days leading up to my surgery have also been beautiful and so we’ve been trying to make time in the midst of all the busyness for some family outside-ness.

Before we could take off on yesterday’s family bike ride though, Steve had to get out his new air compressor which he bought to air up tires on the car and bikes and also to run some of his tools. (I don’t understand that whole concept of air-powered tools but he seems to think the concept is pretty nifty so I’ll take his word for it.)

Sarah patiently waits for her dad to get all the airing accomplished. And also patiently waits for her mother to snap innumerable photos of the whole airing/waiting process.

And they’re off!

Here they are at our Official Turning Point on the ride, which is a few hundred feet from the sound and also right at the house where a state senator lives.

This is one of my favorite spots in all of Manteo, riding under this arch of trees.

When I asked them to stop for a minute while I put my camera away and got back on my bike, Steve did the ol’ “Stopping that’s not really stopping since his feet weren’t touching the ground” trick.

Crossing the road to get back to our neighborhood from the bike trail.

Bikes and helmets, ready and waiting for the next Smith outing which will be down the road at some point after my surgery.

Speaking of bike rides, I got an e-mail from a lady we knew when we lived in Smithfield. She and her elderly mom wanted to take a day trip somewhere and finally decided to come to the Manteo area. She wrote that they were driving down the main road in Manteo and happened to look up and there were Steve, Sarah and I on our bikes. How fun was that?

_________________________________

On another note, my surgery is tomorrow. We’ll get Sarah to school, Snowy off to the kennel and then hit the road. Although I’m not thrilled about not being able to eat or drink before the 2:15 surgery, I am happy that we don’t have to get up at 4 am in order to make it to an earlier surgery. (Like we’ve had to do before.)

I’ve got my two pain meds, anti nausea, and antibiotic meds all lined up and ready to go; I also plan to spend the rest of the day working fervently and frantically on getting a week’s worth of home and church duties accomplished in the space of a few hours.

I’m hoping I’ll be able to sleep in my own bed tomorrow night but it depends on if the surgeon is running behind, how long the surgery ends up taking, and how long I have to stay in recovery before being discharged. We’re going to pack a few things for an overnight hotel stay if I don’t feel up to the long trip home. We’ll see how it goes!

In the meantime, thanks to all of you who’ve said you’ll be thinking of me and praying for me. I’m hoping this will be my last surgery for a very long time.

This Man

question: why is this man smiling?

 

answer:  i have no idea.  but he’s so cute, I think I’ll keep him.

Dad. Daughter. Room.

Steve has been hard at work getting Sarah’s room painted. And since he feels that his daughter should get the same sort of Paternal Painting Training as his son, he has enlisted Sarah as his Painting Princess Apprentice. (Try saying THAT three times fast! Seriously. I can’t even do it.)

Here he is expounding to her on the fact that if she touches some sort of a certain something at the same time as she touches another sort of a certain something she will get a shock. (Try not to be too impressed with my highly technical language.)

The lesson continues. (Note that Sarah is wearing a t-shirt from Nathan’s university. It makes us all feel a bit closer to him when we can look over and see SEU!)

And the lesson continues to continue.

Not sure what this conversation is all about but it looks important!

Sarah finally gets to be taller than her dad!

You may find this hard to believe—I know I did—but they actually let ME paint a little teeny bit. However, it didn’t take me very long to figure out (once again) that painting is not my gift. I told myself, “Becky, you really need to back away from the wall, put that paint brush down and . . . go do something with your hair, already!

The Painting Princess Apprentice hard at work.

Or not.

If you’re wondering why she’s saluting . . .

. . . it’s because the guy in the poster did it first. (Poster is of Reliant K, one of her favorite bands.)

Such a lovely gal.

QUESTIONS/COMMENTS/ANSWERS

“A Guest Blogger! A Nathan and Meagan Story! Hurray!”

Becky said, “What is the ring on the left hand? Great story and great couple ~ I can't believe if I missed they got engaged and I didn't see it.”

Nope—no engagement ring!

Mrs. Pam said, “What a fun story! Nathan and Meagan are such a great couple! Were they at the Melting Pot restaurant?”

Yes, as a matter of fact they were! That is such a great restaurant; we’ve eaten there three or four times in our marriage and have enjoyed every single bite. Nothing quite like it.

“Known By Love”

Anonymous said, “Hi Becky. I loved this recent post for a few reasons. I am Jewish and my husband was brought up Roman Catholic. When I say "was", it is because he has since decided that it is better to be a good person than a bad person who happens to go to a place of worship. I do not always agree with him because I feel a comfort when I do(which is rare) go to Temple. I was wondering if you ever considered other religions in your monthly meetings. At Passover, our community holds a huge Passover dinner and includes everybody. I once had a friend say that such and such a person was a good Christian and it so bothered me. I said that it is possible that the person being "good" had nothing to do with religion. I think your meetings are wonderful. Everybody has a place and we should all support and embrace each other. Just wondered if you ever considered expanding even further into other religions. I think it would be so interesting. Thanks. Love you Smith Family

Anonymous, we would be DELIGHTED and HONORED to welcome religious leaders of various backgrounds—rabbis, priests, etc. to our monthly gatherings. Although we may not agree on every single theological point, we would most certainly agree on enough things so that we could enjoy each other, learn from each other and encourage each other.

Thanks for your comment and for sharing such interesting thoughts!

“Snowy: The Boss Man”

Mary H said, “Boss man, Snowy - what color did you select for Sarah's room? I wasn't sure if the blue that I saw was a primer paint or the color.”

Mary, Snowy here.

I woke up from my last nap long enough to hear one of The Fam say how much they loved the blue paint and how well it matched the carpet. So I’m assuming the blue is paint, not primer. Okay. Back to my nap.

And lastly, both Lisa and Margie asked, “How are you feeling, Becky?”

Ladies, thanks for checking!

I’m feeling pretty well, all things considered. I’m very much looking forward to getting next Tuesday’s surgery behind me. The recovery time will be about the same as the last surgery which was 7-10 days. I’m not really thrilled about being out commission for that long but it’s gotta be done.

This time around, my surgery isn’t scheduled until 2:15 (instead of early in the morning) so Steve and I (Sarah will stay behind) are not sure what we’re going to do about getting home that night. Depending on how quickly I do (or do not) come out of recovery, we may have to end up staying in a hotel that evening. We’ll see how that goes.

Anyway, thanks for checking in; it’s a good feeling to know I’m getting near the end of this thing!