I'm mad!

Yesterday, I called the doctor's office to find out whether they received the results of the ultrasound. This was two days after the radiology place said that the results would be in at the doctor's office.

Well the nurse called me back and said that they did not have the report and that they would either call me or send me something in the mail. Her tone of voice pretty much told me not to call back you freak. So I ended up turning into a freak. I wondered where in the world the report is? Did it get lost somewhere? Was it so unusual that the radiologist needed to call in to get some consultation?

So this morning I called the radiology place up and asked about where the report is because the doctor's office says they don't have it. They told me that my doctor has the report but that they would fax over another report to the doctor's. Okay. Now I'm pissed.

Okay, I realize that they may view my life as inconsequential. Fine. However, I love my family. If there are things I need to work on to prepare for whatever then I want that information, and I want it NOW. I don't believe that I am asking too much here. Plus I don't believe I've been too demanding. It's not like I've been calling every hour on the hour. I mean I waited two whole days before I called. I know there are far more aggressive individuals out there. I just don't like being treated as though I was behaving like one of them.

Now I plan to write my doctor to tell her about her general office staff and how her nurse treated me. Since my doctor built her new office things have changed and they are not for the better. Her office staff are generally rude and abrasive. Her nurse is not at all caring. I love my doctor but I am thinking about changing doctors because I really am not happy with her staff. Doctors don't really know what's going on in their office so when things are off you must let them know. I learned this from another doctor I've seen since I was a little girl. Once he had an employee that treated me quite rudely and disrepectfully one time. When I went to him to tell him what happened he thanked me. He told me that he loses patients and sometimes never knows why. So he told me that I must always let him know when his staff is not acting appropriately. I feel that this is the same situation. I am not a complainer. I do not expect extraordinary service but I do demand that you treat me with respect and care. If my doctor doesn't like what I have to say... Well I at least feel better knowing that I attempted to help her.

Why are women such bitches?

I work in a female dominated world. I am a female. So I feel quite qualified to discuss the topic of women as bitches. I can be a bitch. And if you are reading this and are a woman then you know you can be a bitch too. That is, if you are mortally honest with yourself.

When I was growing up I did not have many girl friends. Actually, girls always seemed to hate me. They seemed to take such joy out of making my life difficult. They would taunt me and make fun of me. So I turned to the little boys. Boys are such simple folk. They are relatively easy to get along with. You play by the rules and on occassion understand that the rules may change but not too frequently and you got along just fine. Little girls on the other hand are all cloak and dagger stuff. Alliances shift quickly. Play never has set and steady rules. They are just plain mean. I hate to say this but little girls haven't changed much since I was one.

Well, what do you suppose happens when all those little girls grow up? It's all the same thing just the stakes are often higher. Which is really sad because women really need other women. Yet, we just can't do it. We can't get over the petty little girl crap. We still have the popular girls who get all the "good" stuff. (Although, they can have it, I certainly don't want any of it.) But then we've got the other packs that coalesce. Women of like minds find each other. They create these really great bonds together. Then there are the snipers. Man they are a mean group. They go after you. You might not even know why it's happening. I would place my self with the loners. I have friends but they are few and far between.

So I've lost the train of my thoughts because I don't really want to get too specific here about the catalyst for this tirade because I am being targeted by a sniper. She is trying to take me down. I really don't want to fight. I don't have any energy left for this crap. I/I told me to not forget I'm the professional but yet I/I doesn't know that I have bigger things on my plate right now. Well I don't know where I'm going but I suppose I'm on my way.

Waiting sucks!

It's now afternoon. They said the report would get to my doctor within 24 hours. So I'm waiting. In one hour it will be exactly 24 hours from yesterday. Will I get a call today? Will I be forced to wait another day? Or have they already called today? Did they leave a message on my voicemail at work?

Why am I worried? Well the technician spent a longer amount of time on the left side. That is the side in question. Did she spend the time because of it being the questionable side or did she actually find something? Did did not say a thing. Nothing. The mammogram chick said all looked fine but they were comparing to the old one. So why did one chick say anything and the other didn't?

So I'm waiting and blowing off my training session. I'm not freaking out folks I just want to know what was found, or what wasn't found.

I sit at work realizing I need to work but yet I'm here instead. I just want to quickly review life.

As many of you know my mother is at the end of her life. When you are in my position you end up evaluating your own life to a certain extent, of course what helps is an overly cautious doctor who sends you in for more tests after your yearly examine, too.

Now after taking my mother to the doctors's well over a year now, I've learned that doctors doctor to their personalities. For example. Cautious people make cautious doctors. Today, I had to field my siblings worries and concerns for a simple test that the oncologist ordered. One sister turned into a mass of nerves as has been the case since Mom's got sick. The other sister turned into Rambo. Ready to take out the oncologist for ordering up a superflous test. Test in question? A simple chest X-Ray! My God you would have thought the doctor ordered up some sort of exotic painful test with the way my two siblings reacted.

So here is the way I view the X-Ray. Oncologist sees body fluids that are in places where it doesn't belong as a danger because it can cause infections and other complications. Surgeon views body fluids as a normal reaction of the body to surgery. Two different types of doctors two different perspectives on body fluids. Not to dis surgeons, but they pretty much seem to know how to cut people open and take things out or repair things but maybe don't get the big picture of the whole body working together as a unit. I've already explained that in my limited experience oncologists view fluid in the body as potential infection sites. Other doctors probably have different view points, too. But I can tell you that I certainly did not think that a simple chest X-Ray warranted the types of reactions from my two female siblings.

You would have thought that Mom was dying! I mean, I know that I just said Mom is at the end of her life, but I don't mean she's on death's doorstep. Mom's got a lot of life in her, yet. And for a 75 year old woman she is the model patient and mother. Bless her heart. Yes, Mom felt a certain amount of frustration over this "development" but she took it like a trooper.

As far as my whacked out sisters... no one hears me complain that I'm left off the list of people on the computer as her emergency contact person. No on hears me complain that they're all whacked. (OKAY, I'm complaining right now, but I don't complain to them.)

I guess what I'm trying to say here, is that I'm amazed that the spoiled, rotten, lazy baby sister is holding it all together for the rest of the family. I've had to calm down Aunts, and siblings. Luckily for me our cousins don't give a damn because I don't know how many more people I can take care of right now.

And then my own personal shit going on that I dare not share with my family. Can you imagine how they would take the possible cancer scare in my life right now? Man, I just can't do that to them. They would completely fall apart. So I'm looking forward to getting the fact finding mission over with tomorrow. Tomorrow, I've got to drink a ton of water. Not looking forward to that since lately I can't seem to hold a lot in my bladder. I'll just walk gingerly into the radiology clinic and demand they take me immedtiately. Of course, I know I'm just dreaming. Part of their amusement is to see how long you can hold it!! Luckily they scheduled the pelvic ultrasound as the first and then the mammogram. For those not in the know I'm not worried about the mammogram. Had one 5 or 6 years ago, nothing to it. No sweat. Not really worried about the pelvic ultrasound either. Had several of those while on fertility pills. No, just worried about what it may find. Being relatively educated I went out and read up on ovarian cancer. I do have some of the symptoms but that doesn't mean a thing because the symptoms could be anything. Hence, that is why ovarian cancer is so deadly. No real symptoms.

Again, this is a case where the personality of the doctor plays a big part in the diagnoses, care and therapy. My OB happens to be a very careful person. I like that in her. My OB is also a very caring person. So I feel pretty good overall. Once I told Passionfruit I calmed down very quickly. Passionfruit took me in his arms and held me, and things just got better immediately. So don't worry for me. I'm okay. This is just a fact finding mission and probably nothing will come of it.

Tuesday I took the girls for ice cream sundaes. I just wanted to give them a nice treat. Well all went well until we tried to leave Braums. Then Miss Independence and Drama Queen fought over the bag with the ham in it. They fought from the store all the way to the car. I didn't do anything to stop the fracas. Each girl thought she was right. I just wanted a peaceful event but that didn't happen.

Storyteller was quite pleased with herself because I told her she was the only one behaving well. To this day she clings to this praise. Yesterday, something happen and Storyteller said, "I was the only one good at Braum's".

Drama Queen got so upset with me over the ham debacle that she screamed, "I won't ever, ever talk to you again, today; unless I want a drink or something." I laughed. Doesn't the legal profession seem to be calling her? DQ is such a little attorney. She looks for the loopholes all the time.

When I think about what the future might hold for my girls I get two different thoughts. One is the pessimisstic reality of the world. The other is pure hope. I hope my girls don't ever have anything happen to them that will destroy their innocence, joy, and happiness. I hope that they grow into productive, kind individuals. I hope that they don't attract the wrong kind of people.

I've got this friend

I've got a friend. She's somebody that is dynamic and charismatic. I first met her at the workplace from hell. We dodge together the irrational bullets that flew at us. When things were coming to a climax there She jumped ship first and apologized for that move. Me, I was just grateful one of us got out of it.

As the days, weeks and months advanced I was left to deal with the situation as best I could. And I have to say I don't think I did the best but you have no idea what it was like in that building. The situation could have driven you crazy. The Cause of the situation dragged me in her office to tell me that my friendship with She would die. The Cause said that work friendships die. Years later I read an article claiming just that about work friendships. But in our case it didn't end the relationship. For in 7 long months I joined She at her new work site. What I failed to mention was that we originally applied for the same position... She got it; I didn't; hence the apology. Seven months later they had another position on said work site come open. I got it that time.

We worked in the new jobs together for several years before I upped and quit to be a mommy fulltime. I remained friends with She. We would get together for lunch. She would give me an opportunity for some adult conversation. I would bore her with my adventures with babies.

Well it's been ten years now since She and I developed a relationship. We continue to visit with one another as much as possible. Our main limitation is geography. She lives way, way on the Northwest side of the city and I live in a suburb way, way to the southeast side of the city. What helps our relationship is I still work very part time at the old job.

That's what I'm doing right now. There are no materials on the shelves needing to be cataloged. I just wanted to report that without She around this place is like a morgue. Silent and dull. She is always good to have some sort of interesting "What if..." scenario. Her favorite is, "Would you kill baby Hitler?"

She, I just want you to know that I think you are the heart and soul of this place. Without you here the spark of life is gone. I don't know how these people can work without you. You know who doesn't know what she would lose if she lost you.

Picnics and cell phones

This weekend was the weekend of picnics. Of course the weather co-operated in that the weather was sunny and hot. I mean HOT. Hot like you could feel your eyeballs melting. Hot like the heat from the asphalt cooks the hair off your legs. It was just plain HOTTTTTTTT!!!!

The first picnic was Friday evening. We had to bring our own food. Since I did not have time to be the "perfect" mother and wife I found a Little Ceasar's along the way and bought two large pizzas. Passionfruit was not delighted. They didn't have anything with veggies on it. The reformed vegetarian was jonesing for some veggie flesh.

When we got there off went the girls. I plopped myself down under a tree where I could watch the girls as they ran around with all the other children. It was a great to see folks I hadn't seen for a few months. Storyteller got overheated as did Miss Independence. I made them sit with e for awhile while the unnatural red, flushed cheeks faded. Amazingly Drama Queen did not get overheated. Normally she is the first to fall to the heat.

Our second picnic was Saturday. Last year we missed this annual picnic, and I really didn't miss it. But this year the folks that were still there when we got there around 5:00PM were normal folks. This is a picnic for Passionfruit's work group. It's an eclectic combination of blue collar workers with a bunch of eggheads. So the blue collars were still hanging on when we got there and the stuffy eggheads were gone.

This picnic was at the lake. So the girls played in the water with the other children. Needless to say the kids had a blast. Drama queen received the most attentions of the older boys (about 8 to 12 years old). DQ was covered in sandy, muddy dirt. I have never seen her so filthy in all her life. Passionfruit told me that the boys really found her attractive. Needless to say we are pretty darn scared. DQ is only 6 years old and drawing attention from older boys!

Next was the Sunday picnic. It was a church picnic. We got there about thirty minutes after the start time and all the shade provided by the tents set up was occupied. Now I wasn't necessarily looking forward to this picnic. I'm not a churchgoer in the sense that my life revolves around church activities. In fact I deliberately stay way from church activities. I go to Mass. That is it, nothing more. I made a pact with myself over 12 years ago that I would not get involved and I haven't. I plan to stay that way, also. But my husband enjoys social events. Always have always will. That's why I married him. I ride on his coat tails in social situations. He was the one who wanted to go.

Now as I said earlier, I was not looking forward this event. So perhaps this next vignette reflects my mood at that time. First thing I want to do when we got there is to feed the kids and myself. So I find myself standing in line. We are not going anywhere. I'm wondering to myself, "What's up?" Finally people start moving around this guy. He's the problem. There he was attempting to fix himself a plate with a freaking cell phone to his ear. He won't budge. I go around him. When he is in my way I'm as rude as I can be without being completely rude like pushing him away from the table. Which is something that I might have done if the thought had crossed my mind at the time. Which it didn't. So here's what I'm thinking: "Why the hell are you at stinking picnic if you're going to walk around talking on a stinking cell phone." I watch this guy, he remains on the phone the whole time I am getting food for my children and me. This takes like 30 minutes because ST doesn't like anything she sees but the sweet stuff. It takes that long to wear me down before I submit to the thought, "What the hell; it's a picnic after all." Back to the idiot on the cell phone I can only say that if this had been my husband I would have grabbed the phone and hit him over the head with it. Cell phones. They don't do anything but drive common decency out the door. Yes I own a cell phone but I always apologize for the damn thing going off. I'm also known not to answer the stupid thing. Passionfruit gets angry with me for not answering. So what!? This way he doesn't have to hunt so hard to find something to be angry with me.

So, next time, your on your cell phone holding up the food line you better watch out, someone may just push you out of the line and step on you.

Schadenfreude

Schadefreude. Of course it would be the Germans that came up with a word that describes that moment when we feel a certainly glee at someone else's misfortunes. German's seem to enjoy creating new words for practically everything. I once spoke to an acquaintance who happens to be from Germany and she said they sit around coming up with the longest words. I never study German so I truly am in the dark but apparently new words are created by combining a word with another word.

You don't see people in the United States of America playing with words. I mean, when was the last time you had a friend say, "Come on by so we can think up new words." We don't view language building as a recreational activity.

Of course there are those out there who are avid Scrabble players or even Boggle. But these games don't invite us to make new words up. Otherwise I would have won many Scrabble games in the past. I often had definitions for those words I made up but no one in the cut throat games of Scrabble supported my attempts at language building.

While I was in college I sort of minored in linguistics. It was in these classes that I learned that we are at risk of our language dying. Everytime we utter a cliche, it is another nail in the coffin of English. Okay. I admit that I haven't studied linguistics in quite sometime but I remember hearing that. I thought, "How in the world could the language I speak die?" It was an awesome thought. But this morning while talking with a co-worker we discussed just how much the language has changed. I mean he didn't even know that pimping has totally different conotations than when he was younger. What about the thongs we use to wear? Folks, they went on the feet not the derriere.

So, when, where will it all end? I don't know but how I've been feeling lately, I just pray that I'm dead and gone before it comes.

Forgive me...

I write this because I am a mother to a child who loves to poop in her pants. Back when I was a mother to two small girls I saw another mother give her small son, about 3 years old, a brow beating that broke my heart. I wanted to go up to her and tell her to lay off the poor boy. This was before my girls were starting to potty train. At the time I was only starting to read books on the subject. All the specialist said not to be harsh and punishing.

Well I am no longer a judgemental mother. At least, I'm working at not being judgemental. For I have learned the frustration of an anger pooper. Talk about passive aggressive behavior. MI drives me crazy. As of May 25 MI has started pooping and wetting her pants again. We aren't sure why. MI didn't have preschool that week so we think perhaps it was that break in schedule caused it. My mom agrees that this might be the case. MI's thinking, "Preschool is over. Therefore, I don't need to use the potty." Mommy's thinking, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! Why the hell won't you use the toilet!????????!!!!!!"

Last night MI got to stay with me while I worked some more. At one point she came over to me and I saw this look on her face. I asked her what's wrong while I ran my hand down her back to her rump. When my hand landed on the rump area it was just beginning to get wet. I looked at her and said, "MI, you need to tell me when you need to go potty. We could have ridden the 'alligator' to the upstairs bathroom." Suddenly, the flow stopped, and MI was out the door. I followed as quickly as possible. We rode the alligator up to the second floor, and she finished her peeing session. Tell me that kid can't control it, and I'll tell you about a bridge I would like to sale you.

What I just wanted to say with this blog is please forgive me. If I've ever shot you a dirty look for yelling and scolding your child about not using the potty please forgive me.

PS: alligator is how MI says elevator.

Not dead yet; or, at least still appealing

Well I spent a rather frantic morning trying to gather up all the pieces for the girls first day at camp. If I were a better mother and better organized I would have had their little backpacks all packed and ready for them the night before. Unfortunately, I am just a pooped, self absorbed mother. Instead of concentrating on the needs of my little rug rats last night I watched a movie. I had run out of my reading supplies. I also did the dishes. But to get back on track it was one of the those mornings where I didn't get any breakfast. I also had an eye doctor's appointment this morning.

After dropping MI off at preschool, I headed to the doctor's office. Spotting a McDonalds up ahead where I won't have to make a left turn; I stop for some bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit combo. I simply must have ketchup on hashbrowns. I walk up and see that they have one of those pump things for the ketchup. Remembering back to that fateful day twenty years ago in high school as a sophomore, I approach the monster with caution. I know that I am risking the clothing on my back to a spray of ketchup. Carefully I press down. Whoooooooooooshh! Yes the damn thing sprayed me like a frightened skunk. I am covered! Oh my gosh! I look down fearing the worse. I must not have pissed off the ketchup or Monday gods for I have been spared the ketchup disaster! I had been sprayed with the clear juice that sometimes builds up on the top of ketchup. I wipe myself off, while I am busy with this job I become aware of the the dude who took my order. He's right beside me apologizing for this incident. I look at him and tell him it's no problem for I had been sprayed far worse in the past. As a sophomore I had a ketchup all over my white blouse. Actually I was quite drenched. I called my mom up and begged her to bring me a change of clothes. Bless her heart she came to my rescue! I even told her that I loved her in front of fellow students. As you know I risked everything by doing such an uncool thing. I didn't care, she left work so I could go through the day with some dignity.

I move on to sit down and eat my breakfast in peace. I enjoyed this solitary venture. Then along comes McDonald dude. He asks me whether I live on the southside of the city. I told him yes and explained that I worked at the local community college library. I figured he had seen me at the reference desk and was trying to place me.

I finish and move to the door. I stop and ask McDonald dude where he is from. He's got an unusual accent that I can't quite place. Madagascar is home. I leave thinking that our little friendly interaction is over but no wait there he is beside me in the parking lot. Now I realized when I asked him where he was from that he thought I was an attractive woman. For the appreciation gleaming in his eyes was quite frank and obivious. So I roll down the window thinking that perhaps he's noticed something wrong with the minivan. Boy was I in for a surprise! McDonald dude wanted to know whether I was married or not!!!! Yes, yes I am. Quite happily at that. I kid you not he did a full body "Ahhhhh, shucks!" Leg up; head down kinda thing.

Now I suppose I should be offended but I'm not. In fact he rather helped make the day go better. Here I am facing the new 30 in a couple of years and someone still finds me attractive! I'm a mother of 3 young girls. I haven't lost the baby fat from MI's gestation and I am still attractive! Please don't get me wrong McDonald dude was not nasty in the least in his appreciation. I certainly would have been truly offended if he had leered at me. I got the impression that perhaps I was a rare friendly face and he just thought he had to try.

So I arrive at my doctor's appointment and when I see Eye Doc he settles down for a session in reminiscing. We decide that he's been seeing me for 25 years. Eye Doc tells me how much he's enjoyed watching me grow into this wonderful woman who is bright and intelligent and a good mom. He then asks for a hug, and we hug a great big hug. I just love this man. He is so sweet. It's hard for me to believe that he was once a Marine. I learned that little nugget when he left me too long in his office once. I found his certificate of Honorable discharge from the Marines. I'm pretty sure that he spent time in Vietnam but I'm always hestitant to ask to confirm.

Looking back at the day I think it wasn't such a bad Monday after all.