2008

Breaking the bank

This week has been rough on my bank accounts, not to mention my sanity.

Part I:

On Tuesday afternoon, Kiddo sent me a text message saying that her stomach hurt.  Because I'm that kind of mom, I asked her if she had to poop.  No go.  She wasn't at home yet so I instructed her to take two Pepto and have a few sips of Sprite when she got home.  I was really leaning towards gas.

I asked her where it hurt and she said that it was in the middle over her bellybutton.  Anywhere else?  Nope.  Okay then, we'll play doctor when I get home.

She was napping when I got there.  She awoke a short time later and we chatted.  The pain wasn't there as long as she, well, didn't move.  Not normal.  She did manage, however, to make it downstairs for dinner. (The girl doesn't miss meals and she's stick skinny!  Ah, to be 15 again.)

I'd say about 15 minutes after we finished dinner, she saw it again.  This is very bad.  I did a little research on the internet to see what might be the cause.  Of course, appendicitis was tops on the list.  They say that one of the symtoms is when you make a quick press and release on the stomach area, it hurts more than if you press and hold it.  Unfortunately, this is what was going on with her.  I wasn't 100% on what to do at this point.

<sidebar: At this point, we were catching feeder bands from Ike, meaning it was windy as all get out and rainy.>

So, for lack of a better option, I called the hospital to ask what they thought.  I mean, hell, they're medical professionals!  I explained the situation and they suggested that I bring her in.  And then the power went out.  Seriously, the dog farts and our power goes out.  Well, there you go.  Even the powers that be said I should take her.

We brave the wind and rain and hop in the car where immediately my dashboard lights start to flicker.  Hooray, one more thing to deal with.

Upon arrival to the ER, it is IMPOSSIBLE to find a place to park.  Thank goodness she wasn't dying.  Finally found parking and got her in and registered.

We got called in but then bumped because a lady was hysterical and complaining that she couldn't breathe.  Now.  I'm no doctor, but it would seem to me that if you can scream and cry, then you can breathe, but whatever.  We waited.

The triage nurse asks me "You're related to her how?"  I love looking young.

Back to the lobby to wait for the intake lady.  Intake lady asks me "And you are her….?"  I still love looking young.

Transferred over to the blood lab.  The phlebotomist says "This is your sister?" Hahaha, awesome, but now mildly annoying.

Finally into a room where the doctor will see her.  The nurse, Adam, comes in and asks some questions including "How are you related to her?"

At this point, it's after 11pm and I'm tired and I'm tired of asking the same question.  My response: "Oh, I don't know her.  I picked her up off the street.  I have a soft spot for homeless kids."  Kiddo laughed immediately so I couldn't pull the wool over his eyes.  (she doesn't so much look like me, at least I don't think so)

Another Brian gem included Kiddo threatening to leave if they stuck her with another needle.  Me telling her she couldn't because I have the car keys.  Her responding oh yeah and saying that she didn't know where she was.  Brian, shocked, asks "you don't know where you are?!?!"  Kiddo explains that she only means that she wouldn't know how to get home from the hospital.

The doctor finally came back with the verdict.  No appendicitis, only gastritis.  Gave her some IV fluids and meds along with some Maalox and a prescription for Prilosec.  Kiddo got YET ANOTHER warning to not have any more energy drinks with the promise that if found out, she will live in her room under her bed until the next school year.

I suppose a $75 co-pay is much better than the bill I racked up (and am still paying) from the same hospital where I went before I had insurance.

My poorness continues in Part 2.

Read and post comments

QotD: Home Sweet Home

What is your definition of home?
Submitted by
naynay72

Home is the place where I feel safe, where I can take refuge from the rest of the world.  It's MY corner, my personal space.  It is where I can grow and build and share, where I can entertain and be entertained.  It's the place I would always rather be.  It's where the sun shines a little brighter and the night isn't quite as dark.  It's where I love and where I am loved.

Read and post comments

A Lunch Story

It would seem that everything funny happens at McDonalds.

I went there to pick up lunch because, well, I'm hungry and I'm gonna die one day anyways, so I might as well enjoy myself while I'm here.

Ordering was smooth and fast today and hooray, there's my order.  Even though it's only 2 things, I check the bag to make sure it's correct.  My fries don't look so good.  So I eat one.  Confirmation.  My fries are NOT so good.  For $1.89 and my health, I'll take fresh fries please, Alex.

So I sashayed right back up to the counter with those things they were trying to pass off as fries and said that I wanted new ones.  The girl at the counter (who I see nearly every time I come in there) informed me that all the fries looked like that today.  Well, fine, but you're at least going to give me some hot ones.  I'll wait.  I can see the fryer from here and I know they're almost done.

While I am waiting for new fries, up comes a lady to the front with her fries.  Apparently, I am not alone.  Following her was a guy with two orders of fries.  I didn't make a big stink, just asked for my fries to be replaced.  And while the other lady didn't make a big stink at the counter, her commentary walking away was priceless.

"Ya'll need to change the motherfucking oil or something.  This is MAC-DONALDS!"

Hahahaha, so this is who sets the quality standards for her food?  I shouldn't laugh.  That's actually a very sad statement. 

Read and post comments | Send to a friend

And in this corner….

This bout is scheduled for, oh, I'd guess another 50 or so years.

In the red corner, weighing in at just under 7 pounds, the Wii Fit Balance Board!  WFBB has a record of outrageous sales, minimal complaints, and for some, actual exercise value.

In the blue corner, weighing in at about 3 pounds, my brain.  The Gray Matter has a record of crazy thoughts, funny outbursts, and mostly not going haywire.

Damas y caballeros, ahora veremos quien es el mas macho!

<cut to pre-recorded video>

Interviewer: So, are you ready for this battle?

WFBB: I'm about to show the brain the truth!

Interviewer: The brain is undefeated.  How do you feel about that?

WFBB: That's because the brain hasn't gone up against me.

<fade to black, fade back in>

Interviewer: Are you at all concerned about your upcoming bout with the WFBB?

Brain: Nah, man, I can take the BB.  I run this body!

Interviewer: The WFBB claims that you've been telling half-truths about the body.

Brain: Look, I was here before the WFBB and I'll be here after the WFBB.  We'll settle this in the ring.

<DING, DING>

Here's the thing.  My weight fluctuates between about 126 and 132.  6 freaking pounds.  You would think that 6 pounds wouldn't make that big of a difference in how I look.  WRONG!

This is where the fight between the brain and the WFBB comes in.  The brain will somehow think that we look awesome today, but WFBB will come in and say, "Awww, hell no.  You're on the high end of your limit today, fatty."  Other days, the brain will say, "Good Lord, are you putting on your winter weight?!?!" and WFBB says, "Hey, look at you all down at 126!"

Good God, I forgot where this post was going.

Nevermind.

 

 

Read and post comments