Friday, May 22, 2009

2018 could be a desolate year. If this were to come to pass:

Sandra and I dropped Drew and his friends off at Castle Fun Park for a few hours and we zipped over to the theatre in Abbotsford. We arrived too late to see "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" so we saw this instead.
Now I want to rent Terminators 1 - 3 again.

Had a rough night last night. Got another one of those gastritis attacks at 4 am and it just about killed me.
I was up til past 2 dealing with stuff related to the kids' weekend trip to the Sasquatch Festival at the Gorge in George, Washington. And because the painters leave my garage door open during the day, I had to clean it up so that the neighbours wouldn't judge me as they drove past. And because Friday is garbage pick up day, and every single child said no to my reguest to TAKE THE GARBAGE OUT - I spent half an hour sorting 3 bins of recylables and refundables. Then I gathered garbage from every corner of the house. And then there was the grass clippings. And once I had it all done, I nabbed Max on his way to the kitchen at 1:30 am and forced him to drag it all to the curb.

And because they were taking my Durango, I had to write letters giving them permission to take it into the States. And so on.

My last request of the evening was for Clint to please empty the dishwasher and reload it with all his spaghetti-sauce-making pots and pans.

At 2:30 I finally fell into bed.

At 4:10 I woke up with extreme abdominal pain, so I took one of those little yellow pills, a couple of tums, heated up the magic bag and sat down on the couch to wait it out. Within 15 minutes I was wailing owweeeeahhhh over and over again. My stomach lining was burning and the trapped air was putting pressure on my rib cage - both front and back. I started pacing because I didn't know what to do with the pain - it was overwhelming. Pretending that I was in my 35th hour of labour (yes, as a matter of fact I DO know what that feels like. Ask me about Clint's entry into this world. Long and pain-filled.) I started doing that having-a-baby breathing thing. I was so tense I thought my back would snap. So at 5 I took a shower til there was no more hot water. Then I took a couple more tums. At 5:30 I could barely move. So I lay flat on my back on the heated tile floor in my bathroom. I moaned and groaned with enthusiasm and volume and let my mind go places that it shouldn't. The bathroom floor ended up not being such a good idea so I rolled over and pushed myself up.

Clint didn't clean up after himself, so the kitchen was a mess, and as I paced my 'track' through the living room, dining room, kitchen and front hall, I made lists in my mind of all the things I wished I had done better when raising these boys of mine.

I obessed about the trim color of the house.
I confessed every sin I've committed in the past 2 weeks.
I got all embarassed for the way I spontaneously cried at the staff lunch.
I relived every sad moment in my life.
I just kept feeling wave after wave of gut wrenching pain.

I craved an epidural. Or morphine drip to relieve the sharp and dull pains ripping through core. I was having trouble breathing and wondered if I should wake one of the kids to see if they could hook me up with some weed.

At 6 I took two extra-strength Advil gel caps and made some irrational promises to God.

At 7 I parked myself in the downstairs bathroom and wondered if forced vomiting would help the situation at all. And at 7:10, with my body bent over the sink, I felt a rippling (like the first flutterings of a baby during pregancy) along my rib cage and then an unpleasant twisting flip flop (like a baby changing positions near the end of the pregnancy) that left me breathless and unexpectedly completely pain free.

I stood up straight, took a deep breath, walked upstairs, and said "Thank you Jesus" like a pentacostal.

I fell asleep at 7:20.

At 7:30 the painters arrived and climbed onto the roof outside my bedroom and taped up my window. Of course they would.

At 8:00 Clint and Max started packing up the Durango, checking in with me every 10 minutes or so, wondering where things were.

They left at 9:00.

I managed to put in a solid half day's work, and when I came home, I realized I'd made a terrible mistake with my trim color. I talked to Katie and John, the painters, and they agreed that I should go darker. So I called Josh, and he suggested I hire a designer to come by and get her opinion. Lisa arrived at 4:30, recommended the color that I had picked as an alternate, was gone by 4:34 and it was the best $85 I'd ever spent. You can't put a price on peace-of-mind.

So it's 1:00 am now. And I better get more than 2 hours and 20 minutes of sleep tonight or else you're going to have to read another minute by minute description of my abdominal discomfort. Here's hoping I'll have something fun to blog about tomorrow.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. The colour "Stonecroft". SO rich.
2. Josh, John, Katie and Lisa
3. I'm spending Saturday morning at Starbucks, chatting with my writing group. I'm spending Saturday afternoon at Sendall Gardens taking pics of all my Murrayville friends and their graduating children. I'm spending Saturday evening having dinner with old friends. I'm spending Sunday afternoon and evening celebrating at the wedding of Vanessa and Stuart. So thankful for friends and family.


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