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Jan. 1st, 2011 07:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stitchwhichI've enjoyed reading people's New Year/Last Year posts. I haven't really thought about 2010... yesterday was a busy day, starting with my CAT scan and moving on to lunch with ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1)
duchessgrace and educaitlin, then Susie & I got to go visit debardeleye where I was treated to the sight of watching Susie hold a tiny baby and croon to her. Went back home, picked up my beloved Bossman, and went shopping.
I crashed into bed as soon as we got home. 6:30, and there I was, curling up to sleep. It's not the miles, it's the road hazards, I swear. I woke up at 9-ish to come out and give the Bossman a kiss on the forehead as he was watching TV, and then I crashed out again, waking up only when two fireworks shot off by our stupid-neighbors (don't know which ones they are) shook the neighborhood and had me thinking that a transformer had exploded. No, wait, there isn't a transformer that close to the house. By the time I'd snuggled down to go back to incurious sleep, they'd shot off their other mortar-sounding round and I was adrenalin-awake and pissed off. Until I heard the police heading our way, which is when I fell back to sleep. And dreamed blissful dreams of devastating idiots with my wit or strength of arm... I think that may have been a left-over of the "Green Hornet" preview we saw at the movies. I've always had a crush on Kato. :)
I didn't wake up until 6:00 this morning. Guess the stress of an incipient head cold and the medical procedure (snow cancellation followed by uncertainty about whether or not it was really rescheduled, and then, where it was supposed to be done (they sent me to the wrong clinic), and the (dreaded and 'sure enough') IV episode*) - well, I was just tired. I'm not now. I've sat down and sent off my first "Feasts and Saints of the Day" entry to the Medieval List, complete with a totally inane intro, and when I'm done catching up with LiveJournal, FaceBook, and my email, I'm going to go into the kitchen and cover the table with fabric, soon to bury myself in the bliss of creating loaner garb for little children. And it will be even more enjoyable because sweet BossMan washed all the dishes last night and the counters are clear - something I'd meant to do and shirked in favor of sleep.
*
"I have a severe vagal reaction to IVs, you will have to put the IV in the crook of my arm."
"You mean you faint? That's OK, we can deal with that if it happens."
"No, I mean that I go into cardiac arrest and you will have to resuscitate me."
"No, I'm sure you think that is what is happening, but a vagal reaction is just fainting, really, and we're very used to dealing with it."
"Lady, I have 'fainted' three time and woken up with nearly-busted ribs and a hole in my chest from the syringe used to pump adrenaline directly into my heart. That is not 'fainting' and if you can't, or won't, put the IV where I ask you to, we're done here. I don't want to experience it again, and I'm pretty darn sure you don't want to be doing CPR this morning on a fat woman."
"Oh my goodness! No, you're right! Here, which arm?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . It gets old.
duchessgrace and educaitlin, then Susie & I got to go visit debardeleye where I was treated to the sight of watching Susie hold a tiny baby and croon to her. Went back home, picked up my beloved Bossman, and went shopping. I crashed into bed as soon as we got home. 6:30, and there I was, curling up to sleep. It's not the miles, it's the road hazards, I swear. I woke up at 9-ish to come out and give the Bossman a kiss on the forehead as he was watching TV, and then I crashed out again, waking up only when two fireworks shot off by our stupid-neighbors (don't know which ones they are) shook the neighborhood and had me thinking that a transformer had exploded. No, wait, there isn't a transformer that close to the house. By the time I'd snuggled down to go back to incurious sleep, they'd shot off their other mortar-sounding round and I was adrenalin-awake and pissed off. Until I heard the police heading our way, which is when I fell back to sleep. And dreamed blissful dreams of devastating idiots with my wit or strength of arm... I think that may have been a left-over of the "Green Hornet" preview we saw at the movies. I've always had a crush on Kato. :)
I didn't wake up until 6:00 this morning. Guess the stress of an incipient head cold and the medical procedure (snow cancellation followed by uncertainty about whether or not it was really rescheduled, and then, where it was supposed to be done (they sent me to the wrong clinic), and the (dreaded and 'sure enough') IV episode*) - well, I was just tired. I'm not now. I've sat down and sent off my first "Feasts and Saints of the Day" entry to the Medieval List, complete with a totally inane intro, and when I'm done catching up with LiveJournal, FaceBook, and my email, I'm going to go into the kitchen and cover the table with fabric, soon to bury myself in the bliss of creating loaner garb for little children. And it will be even more enjoyable because sweet BossMan washed all the dishes last night and the counters are clear - something I'd meant to do and shirked in favor of sleep.
*
"I have a severe vagal reaction to IVs, you will have to put the IV in the crook of my arm."
"You mean you faint? That's OK, we can deal with that if it happens."
"No, I mean that I go into cardiac arrest and you will have to resuscitate me."
"No, I'm sure you think that is what is happening, but a vagal reaction is just fainting, really, and we're very used to dealing with it."
"Lady, I have 'fainted' three time and woken up with nearly-busted ribs and a hole in my chest from the syringe used to pump adrenaline directly into my heart. That is not 'fainting' and if you can't, or won't, put the IV where I ask you to, we're done here. I don't want to experience it again, and I'm pretty darn sure you don't want to be doing CPR this morning on a fat woman."
"Oh my goodness! No, you're right! Here, which arm?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . It gets old.
