(not just a) MommyBlog (dot com)

… it seems they never stop.

Casey and Kenny came with me to the hospital for the D&C on Monday, and hung out in the pre-surgery area.   That is, until Kenny started projectile vomiting all over himself, Casey, the floor and the gurney I was laying on.   Casey got  everything wiped up and they took off.   Just before they left, I found out that my own  doctor was delayed in delivery, and they weren’t sure  when she was coming in.

So I waited.   For an hour.   The IV in my arm dripped on, as one by one the other people there for out-patient  surgery were wheeled away by their doctors and nurses, and I was left quite alone in the pre-op room with only a single technician to keep me company.   Once my sweet doc arrived, along with her crew, I was sent into blissful sleep, and was shaken awake only a minute later, as they told me they were finished.   Casey took me home, where I tried to watch the TV show “24” with him,  but in the midst of my drugged state, I got confused and started thinking that American Idol was getting a little violent this year.

Tuesday brought the worse hang-over of my life, and a cranky-hungry Kenny.   Casey was starting to  feel under the weather, too, not unexpectedly, given all he’s been through.   By last night, Kenny did one last glorious vomit (three hours after we’d put him to bed), causing us to have to change his clothes, his sheets and clean the carpet.   Then we ended up sleeping in there on the bed in his room, in case he started choking or something in his sleep.   Of course, no slumber party is complete without Dudley, and he made himself comfortable in there, licking himself to sleep.

Kenny was better this morning, albeit the crankiest he’s ever been in his sweet life, only I woke up with severe upper abdominal pain.   I called the doctor, and she sent me right over to a lab for an abdominal ultrasound.   Let me tell you how much fun a thirty minute ultrasound is with a 24 pound toddler in your lap.   I had to pin him in my legs on the examination table, and keep his hands out of the gooey jelly they spread on my belly, and keep him from swan diving off the table, while I was told to lay still.   He was pretty good,  all in all.   I am not, unfortunately, and it looks like I have now been reported to have gallstones, and am scheduled for a consult with a surgeon for next Friday, to determine whether or not I need surgery.   Again.

All of this, and we are leaving for the airport at 6 am tomorrow to go to Casey’s brother’s wedding in Florida.   I hope our housesitter can overlook the fact that the house hasn’t been cleaned in two weeks…  

I don’t know how much computer access I’ll have over the next four days, but hopefully I’ll have many happy and funny stories to tell, and many pictures to post.   Things have got to get cheerier from here on end.   At least I can drink wine again. But seriously,  I don’t like writing sad and dreary  posts, and I want to return to my giggly recounts of Kenny’s antics as soon as I can.  

You know, I always wondered when or if my “perfect life” would hit a bump in the road.   I always looked at friends who had been through tragedy, and wondered how they survived it all, and how they were still able to smile.   I always thought I could never handle losing a pregnancy, or withstand a serious illness, and yet.   Here I am.   And I am still able to smile.