Girdle Bra.

You know how stinkin’ uncomfortable it is to wear a girdle for any length of time?

Well, right now I am wearing the girdle equivalent of a bra—a very, extremely, horribly, incredibly tight girdle-esque bra. And what makes the situation all the more lovely is that I have to wear said bra for twenty-four hours a day. For the next seven days. Ug.

Which means no shower or bath. Ug. Again.

And since I’m not allowed to raise my arms higher than 90 degrees, I can’t wash and style my hair. Ug. Yet again.

By this time next week, I will no doubt look like something out your worst nightmare. Plus I’ll probably be just a tad bit crabby as a result of being everlastingly ensconced in this Houdini-type straitjacket. I tell you one thing, next week when the surgeon finally removes this torturous bra and all the dressing underneath, I’ll probably be almost as happy as I was when the surgical drains were removed last time.

Overall though, everything went very well. The surgeon did tell Steve, however, that he had to do some unexpected extra surgery in the area which would definitely cause me more pain than usual during the recuperation process.

So far though, as long as I keep on schedule with my meds, the pain hasn’t been too terrible. And I’m also happy to report I’ve had no nausea whatsoever, which is a wonderful thing. Vomiting in the hours following surgery (which is what happened last time) is pretty awful.

Yesterday morning, after I had been taken back to the pre-op area and had gotten myself all pre-opped, Sarah and Steve were allowed to come back for a few minutes. We talked a little bit and I just vaguely remember Steve praying. (I told Steve it’s great having my very own personal pastor to come and pray with me before my surgeries.)

But what I do remember quite well are the unexpected tears that came to my eyes as Steve and Sarah kissed me good-bye and left the room. Surgery is such a lonely procedure, being so cut off from the whole world and from the people you love. Those last kisses and good-byes only magnify that feeling all the more.

I had another teary session in the shower the night before the surgery and I can’t really put my finger on the name of my feelings. Maybe it was just the knowledge that although I was moving one step closer to my new normal, I was still grieving the old normal that I knew would never come again.

Through the long, hard day (five hours on the road and five hours at the surgery center), Steve and Sarah were extra attentive and helpful and compassionate. They even got to be entertained by all of my woozy ramblings. Steve said I told him the same thing four different times on the way home!

And another aspect of surgery-related wooziness I’ve been experiencing is trying to keep up with the storyline of my mystery novel. I read for awhile last night in kind of a twilight haze and had to keep going back through the beginning of the book to remind myself which character was which. And then by the time I went back and scanned a few pages, I had already forgotten which character I was searching for. And then I couldn’t remember which page I had been on when I started the whole backward scanning process.

So then I just gave up. And went to sleep.

Which I am about to do right now.

Note from Sarah

I updated at 9:15 this morning and for some reason, after it had been up for a few minutes, it just disappeared! Happily, we found the post again and were able to get it back up. Even though the news is already old news, you can scroll down one entry and see that earlier update.

Home...

Sarah again.

Mom, Dad and I arrived home about forty-five minutes ago, and of course Snowy was only to happy to see us after being alone for so long. The surgery went just as planned, and there were no complications - praise God! Mom is currently in bed asleep, and she will probably be resting the rest of today and tomorrow as well. Dad said she should have a post ready by tomorrow, though, so you all can get back to your regularly scheduled Smithellaneous-ness!

Hello Smithellanites!

Sarah here, Becky's daughter, to say that the Usual Blogger Woman went into the surgery room about half an hour ago. Dad and I just came back from our brief visit with her; we prayed over her and kissed her goodbye, then were skedaddled from the place. By then, Mom was already quite loopy and slightly forgetful, as she had been put on a relaxing medication about ten minutes previous. This aside, she looked somewhat aware of herself and she seemed ready to get this part of her journey over.

Thank you for stopping by.
Stay tuned!

--Sarah

The Toilet Paper Stand Off (Reprised)

Since I won't be able to update today, I thought I'd re-post one of my favorite pieces from the past. Enjoy!

The Toilet Paper Stand Off

Monday, April 27, 2009

I'm sure you've all been sitting around your computers this entire day, completely incapable of tearing your eyes away from the screen for even one second for fear that you might miss the first installment of the first moment of the first word of the first telling of our first Toilet Paper Stand Off.

But the moment has finally come. The time for the telling is here. Here's the whole story.

Last week, I bought toilet paper. Nine rolls of toilet paper. On sale.

What I normally do when I get home with the Smith Family Supply of toilet paper is to put three rolls in the downstairs bath, three rolls in the master bathroom, and three rolls in the kids' bathroom.

(Aren't you ever so excited to have the inside scoop on how our family's toilet paper is distributed? I realize that blogging really doesn't get much better than this.)

On this particular day however, I did my first two drop offs and then I thought, "I'll just throw these three rolls down the hall towards the kids' bathroom and one of them can pick them up and take them in when they go that direction."

Just so you know how well that plan worked, I would like to share a picture of what the hallway looked like on Thursday evening, several hours after I had tossed the toilet paper down the hall.

Now I'm just asking this for the purpose of scientific research, not because I'm dissing my children or anything, but if you walked down this hall and into this bathroom several times a day, would you notice those three rolls on the floor?

I kept on thinking with my perky positivity, "Any moment now, either Sarah or Nathan will pick up the rolls and carry them the two or three steps into the bathroom and put them into the Official Toilet Paper Storage Area. It's a no-brainer!"

Alas.

On Friday afternoon, this is what the hallway (still) looked like.

Now it may just be me, but I can't really tell much of a difference between those two photos, can you? Once again, I'm asking for research purposes only. I am not in any way insinuating that my lovely children would ever ignore such a vital housekeeping issue for TWO days in a row.

And you'll never, ever guess what the hallway looked like on Saturday.

Even though I'm not going to post a picture, you won't even have to use your imagination. All you have to do is to scroll slowly back up the screen to look at the pictures on Thursday and Friday. There was No. Change.

My first instinct was to make my way down the hall and with my patented, martyred maternal sigh, pick up the three rolls and put them away. But then I thought, "Nope. I'm not going to do it because first of all, both of those children bend much easier than I do and secondly, it's their toilet paper and their bathroom."

By Sunday, the (unspoken) stand off was still going strong. At dinner however, Steve casually mentioned the toilet paper that had been sitting in the hallway for three days.

I said to him, "Oh, you weren't supposed to say anything. I was going to see how long the kids were going to let it sit there!"

Both Nathan's and Sarah's heads shot up and their eyes opened wide. By the looks on their faces, I could tell that they either hadn't even noticed the toilet paper lying there--on the floor, right in front of them, that they were tripping over and stepping around---or else they hadn't thought it was any sort of a big deal. They both kind of made a joke about it and we went on with the meal.

After we ate, Nathan disappeared upstairs. Steve followed a few minutes later and when I heard him up there sort of chortling to himself, I went upstairs to investigate. This is what I saw.

Well, I just stood there and laughed and laughed. It was such a Nathan-esque thing to do; it was like he was saying with his Tower of TP, "Okay, Mom. I moved the toilet paper. Are you happy?"

Now if your heart is longing for a more artsy view of the Tower, I took a picture from a different angle. I know how important it is for toilet paper to be portrayed in an artsy manner.

When I had finally finished my laughing, I called Sarah upstairs and she got a pretty good giggle out of the TP Tower, too. However, when all the laughing was over, Sarah (being a female), figured out that enough was enough and that it was time to get the toilet paper moved to its rightful home.

After posing for the inevitable picture, she cheerily deposited the aforementioned rolls into their aforementioned Official Toilet Paper Storage Area and just like that, the stand off was over.

Later on, I was kidding Nathan about the whole "toilet paper in the hallway" situation and asking him how long he had been planning to leave the toilet paper in the hallway. He replied with the kind of sincerity and wide-eyed innocence that only a 19-year old college student can muster, "But Mom! I was planning on going out there and getting a roll whenever we ran out in the bathroom!"

Like that was the obvious solution. Leave the toilet paper in the hallway and just get out and get some when you need it. No biggie!

He is SUCH a male. Such a beloved, funny, "non-picking up the toilet paper" kind of male.

And Sarah is SUCH a female. Such a beloved, funny "I'll help Mom and and pick up this toilet paper for her" kind of female.

And I am SUCH a Mom. Such a beloved, funny "Those kids had better jolly well pick up that toilet paper or I will have a major mamma hissy fit!" kind of Mom. (smile)

I am very happy to report to you all that the stand off ended peaceably. The toilet paper is where it belongs and the hallway is neat.

And that's the end of the story, right?

I wish.

I had actually written most of this entry before dinner and was going to finish it up and post it after we ate. Well, while Nathan and Sarah and I were at the table (Steve is away at a conference) I casually said to them, "I'm about to post a blog about the toilet paper and how Nathan stacked it in the hallway."

Nathan looked at me with great puzzlement and said, "Mom, I didn't stack the toilet paper in the hallway!"

I gaped at him and said, "You didn't? Well, who did then?"

He said, "It must have been Dad!"

Sure enough, when Steve called home a few minutes ago I asked him The Stacking TP Question and he said, "Oh yeah, I stacked it. I just called you upstairs because I was having such fun with it."

Somehow all along, I had assumed it was Nathan's doing. And now my entire blog is ruined because I told the story wrong.

Hmmm . . .

Here's the deal, folks. I would like to earnestly request that you please just ignore the untrue portion of the blog that talks about Nathan's stacking because I have spent way too much time already writing about toilet paper and I'm not going to re-write the entire blog over one little ol' stacking error.

The bottom line is that the stand off is over. The toilet paper is put away. Peace reigns.

Life is good.

Day Before Surgery. Unraveled Spices. Poll Results.

So what does a girl do with herself during the days before surgery? During the days leading up to the time when she knows that she’ll not be feeling real great for a week or two?

Well, this girl spent the last few days giving into my “nesting” instincts, trying to get things cleaned, organized and arranged so that I can spend time recovering without worrying about a million things that need to be done.

Don’t laugh, but I even alphabetized my spices! I’ve actually done that in the past but in the last few weeks, the alphabetization had started to unravel a bit. And there’s nothing worse than unraveled spices! I must say that it is wonderful to be able to find a spice in an instant. (Is it so obvious that I’m very easily entertained?)

I also got the bright idea of using the walls in my (fairly small) pantry for storage. That helped to free up lots of drawer space. And free drawer space makes me a happy woman!

The pantry got a little pre-surgical attention as well. Because we all know that one can not go into surgery until one’s pantry is clean! (I think they mentioned something about that in the pre-surgical instructions.)

Earlier this morning I also took my last bike ride for a while. I never thought I’d say I’d miss exercising, but when exercising takes me into lovely places like this—well, I can’t help but miss it.

The pictures below are from another one of our bike trail destinations.

As for the surgery itself, its scheduled for 8:45 tomorrow morning. We’ll have to leave the house about 5 am to get there in time for all the wonderful pre-surgical activity. And of course, I can’t eat or drink anything so I’ll probably be dreaming of oatmeal with blueberries the entire trip.

The surgery will last somewhere between ninety minutes and two hours. The surgeon will open up the incisions that are already there, take out the expanders and put in the permanent silicone implants. Even though he and I have had a conversation about sizing options, he will still have several sizes of implants in surgery so that the final decision can be made as to which is the “best fit.”

I’m not quite sure who makes that decision. The surgeon? The nurses? The anesthesiologist? I have this wacky picture in my mind of the whole team surrounding me and having a long discussion about which implant they think is best. Maybe they'll have some coffee and pastries while they're doing it. Maybe they'll sit down and put their feet up and have a long conversation.

Or maybe they could just wake me up momentarily and get my opinion. I mean, I’m the one who has to live with those things, right?

But the really good news? No drains!

I am so ecstatic about that little piece of info that I think that I shall leap up off the surgical gurney and entertain the assembled troupes with a No Drain Dance. Happy, happy, happy!

I’ve already gotten my four prescriptions filled (two pain, one nausea, one antibiotic) and have printed out the Med Schedule Sheet that Steve made up for me after my mastectomy.

So now that I have a med schedule and an organized spice rack, what more could I possibly need? I'm good to go!

In closing, I’d like to thank everyone who participated in last week’s poll.

Here are the results

There were 621 votes cast in the age category.

Readers are who 18 years old or younger:
5

19-25
45

26-35
183

(Oops! I left out this category earlier but I'd already erased the poll so I couldn't go back to find the figures. Instead, I added up the other categories and subtracted them from 621 and came up with 183. Sorry to overlook you wonderful folks!)

36-45
181

46-55
178

56-65
7

66-75
19

76-85
1

85-110
2 (One of these votes was my husband!)

For the male vs. female poll, 513 voters out of 522 were women.

To the brave guys who venture by here occasionally, let me just say that I’m glad you’re here!

Okay, that’s it. My To Do List for the day is longer than you can imagine so I’d better run. Steve or Sarah will update tomorrow as soon as they can.

(By the way, stop by Sarah’s site when you have a moment and read about a special family memory we made before her bone marrow transplant.)

A Post of Quietude. And Snowy As You’ve Never Seen Him Before.

If you’re having a frantic, hectic, stressful, wild, disquieting, tense and taxing day, take a deep breath.

Let it out.

And then scroll down.

When I was on the bike trail a few days ago, I took a few pictures of loveliness in the hopes that they would be like a sip of cool water to a dusty soul.

Oh, wait. How did Snowy sneak in there?

Technically Snowy is not a “picture of loveliness;” he’s far too macho for that. But he does come equipped with a guarantee to bring a smile, especially when he’s posing so nicely in his “long hair hippie” mode. All he needs are some leather sandals and a beaded head band and he’d be, like, groovy, dude.

Or.

How about this picture of Snowy. You know, since he never got to “officially” graduate from college?

Enjoy the smile. Enjoy your day!

The Visit.

Last weekend, Steve’s parent’s spent a few days with us. We worked them so hard during their visit that they finally had to flee back to Charlotte in desperation, just to catch up on their rest.

Their first job was to change the message on the church sign.

I thought it was appropriate that two people who have been married for fifty-five years would be assigned to put up a sermon title like . . .

. . . this.

(Note: During the service, Steve had a couple brave souls come up front with him and sing a few bars of that song. It was most entertaining.)

After that job was complete, Ken went around the house and worked on the switch plates that we had removed for painting.

Vernie got right to work folding bulletins with Our Regular Folder of the Sunday Bulletins. Don’t they look so inspired?

Then Ken was “talked into” singing a special with Steve on Sunday morning. (That line is really a joke because there are few things Ken enjoys doing more than singing in front of people.)

Before he started the song Ken said, “I tried to get a good guitar player to get up here to accompany me but all I could find was Steve.” That got a good laugh.

Then Ken called “his favorite alto” to the front to do a duet with him.

And as if THAT weren’t enough work, Steve took Ken with him to sing at the local radio station.

Steve preaches on the radio 15 minutes every Monday morning but he usually just does it by phone. However, since he had a local singing celebrity with him this time, he decided to go on into the studio instead.

I must say that Steve and I have been both been so blessed through the years by the parents God has given us. My Mom and Dad always had the same attitude as Ken and Vernie do. Whenever they arrived for a visit it wasn’t, “Okay, entertain us.” Their attitude was, “What can we do to help you?”

My dad has been gone to heaven for almost a year now, but I’ll always remember the way he and Mom invested their lives into other people at every possible opportunity. Both sets of parents have provided such excellent examples for our kids.

Okay. Back to the visit . . .

Just in case you’re thinking that Ken and Vernie’s visit was all work and no play, I have to add that they took Sarah to the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse where Ken and Sarah climbed 268 steps all the way to the top of the lighthouse. (Ken will be eighty years old in January so I’d say he’s in pretty good shape to be able to do that.)

One evening, we got out the bikes and took a spin up and down the street in front of our house.

One of the most endearing sights of the whole visit was this one. Vernie hadn’t ridden bike in a long time and was a little wobbly starting off. Steve ran along beside her, just like she and Ken had run alongside his bike when he first learned to ride. Sarah and I stood in the driveway watching them and both got teary-eyed over the sweetness of it.

Saturday night was video night. We watched Jungle Book which is one of the best movies ever. You can tell that Snowy was fascinated by it.

On Sunday night, they took us out to dinner for an early celebration of Sarah’s fifteenth birthday coming up on August 23rd. (View from the restaurant.)

This is at Stripers in Manteo which serves the best crab stuffed flounder I’ve ever had.

Leaving the restaurant to go get dessert at another restaurant.

When we got out of the car at the next place, Steve looked at Sarah and said (as he often does), “So! Do you want to skip?” Usually she says no but on Sunday night she surprised him by saying yes. It’s kind of a blurry picture but it still captures the whimsy of the moment.

Waiting on the deck of the restaurant to be seated.

Sarah and her grandpa--looking ahead to another year.