i figure that if i have to guzzle an ounce and a half of powerful liquid laxative tomorrow at 4 PM then again at 7, i'm likely to spend the evening circling the bathroom and since i have to cook some food to freeze for easy warming while i am down for the count . . . i don't want to be mixing cooking with toilet visits, you know? so this evening i've been racing around like a madwoman trying to get things done. i am the furthest thing from a domestic goddess, so you have to understand that this is hard work for someone like me. for instance, i'm incapable of making Jello without reading the box instructions word for word. i just made some because after breakfast tomorrow my diet is strictly curtailed to Jello and clear liquids. then at 4 PM, well - you know what happens then.
first on the agenda after work was a visit to the grocery store. i loath the grocery store. it's like my version of hell on earth. i shop like a european usually, stopping for stuff at the nearby little family grocer where i no doubt pay twice as much. and the irony is - that means i end up shopping 5 times more than if i went once a week! but i just can't stand the Big Shopping. however, i had to do it tonight so my usually empty cupboards and fridge would be stocked for the duration. i got 3 bags of oranges for the price of one, so if anyone local wants oranges i have plenty to dole out. lots of toilet paper, naturally, because that's gonna be a must-have tomorrow night! 3 bags of cat litter (hey, i have 6 cats), so much deli ham and cheese i will never want to look another sandwich in the eye again after this, and lots of my favorite Pepsi 0. people wonder why i drink it - it has 0 calories, 0 sugar, and 0 caffeine. but it's a nice change from my usual gallons of water.
when i got home and unloaded all the stuff i set about trying to shovel the godawful slop mother nature dumped on us today. heavy slush is a bitch. only half the walk is shoveled and sanded (yes, just the part i need to get to the driveway and back). pedestrians will just have to take their chances from there. around here they tend to walk in the middle of the street with their dogs anyway, a joy for those of us trying to navigate snowy streets. it's a law to shovel your sidewalk and yet they don't use the damn thing! but, with my luck, one will, and that person will fall on their ass and yell whiplash and sue me. i'll take my chances. the back porch steps are a bitch and i am worried about being able to get out to feed my bunnies and the wild birds . . . but maybe the little kids across the street would like to earn a couple bucks. i decided not to change the litterboxes until the last minute tomorrow night so they are as clean as possible for the upcoming week or so.
now i am washing my button-butt longjohns, which i suspect i will spend the majority of my time in (i need to find the other pair!) after 4 holes in your belly, you really don't want to be in anything with a waistband and i am a big fan of the button-butt for winter visits to the john. all my blankies and robes are washing. since i suspect i'll be on the couch downstairs for the first night home at the very least, i covered the cushions with a snuggly wool blanket. but then i covered that with another blanket because i know my cats - and one of them is bound to vomit a hairball on my bedding. the little bastards will never hurl a hairball on the wood floor. no, it has to be in one of my shoes or on the rug or on the couch. so i am prepared! particularly since i just fed Mikey some shrimp tails, his favorites. he puts them down with gusto, but they seem to come back up with equal gusto later on. but with those cute pleading yellow eyes, how can i resist giving him his treat?
i'm making angel hair pasta, spinach, shrimp and feta (with olive oil) for my dinner and enough left over to freeze. this is a meal i can manage to make because it doesn't require much of my presence at the stove. yes, i hate the stove. if it takes longer than 15 minutes to cook, i'm not interested in cooking it. since bob died i think i've turned the oven on all of 3 times. the microwave, on the other hand, gets good use. i have 2 pots and 2 frying pans. i can also make spaghetti and meatballs. i am an expert at cooking hot dogs.
a friend of mine promised to deliver some tubular meat (the best kind) on sunday. goddammit, i hope he brings some crackers to go with that sausage!
i forgot to borrow some DVDs from the library for moments of boredom. daytime soaps might drive me to suicide and i don't think there's much else on. i have 5 books to read and hey, you ineternet people can entertain me. how long i am supposed to be laid up, i don't know. when i had regular laparoscopy i guess it was a couple days but this time there's 4 holes instead of 2 in the belly and organ removal so . . . i doubt i'll be tuning into the exercise channel to tone my abs. i wonder when i can drive again? i forgot to ask. i drive a stick (jeep wrangler) so it requires a little more of the abdominal cavity than a regular weenie kind of automatic car. but when there's a will there's a way. in due time.
the best "gift" i bought myself for this upcoming exile to the couch is an electric blanket. all the heat in this 150 yr old house goes upstairs even with the door closed at the bottom of the stairs. i can crank the heat to 75 on a 10 degree night and be lucky if it gets up to 61. with a $290 natural gas bill this month, i've definitely decided an electric blanket down here is the way to go! i literally go into a heat-induced coma beneath it and so does Biggie, my 20 lb cat who should, by all rights, be hot enough with all that fat, but never is. my biggest fear is Biggie deciding to pussyfoot across my tender belly, as cats are wont to do. mine are horrible. Spanky sits on my chest, Mikey swats me in the face when he wants me to get up. they all use me as a natural bridge to get from one side of the bed to the other. assholes. i feel sorry for Baby, who has never come downstairs of her own volition since she arrived here in September of 2007. apparently, she is queen of all upstairs. my bed is her bed, she has her dainty water goblet bedside, the spare room has her food and her Baby-Only litterbox. if i am down her for a while she will be lonely. well, perhaps not. she has 5 boycats to keep her company, all of whom are allowed on the bed only by virtue of her grace. that is, except Mikey, who is top cat to Baby's queen cat. he is 18 and nobody fucks with him.
today the hospital lady told me to bring as little as possible for my overnight stay (in the maternity ward - which i find somehow quite amusing). no jewelry, no nail polish, what? - no false eyelashes?! no lipstick (but what about that Lifetime show i saw advertised called 'Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy'?? i can't wear lipstick to my ute removal? that's just not fair. so i hesitantly asked, "is it OK if i bring my pink stuffed bunny? i can't sleep without him." the nurse laughed, but nicely, and said of course. just not into the operating room. that's OK, he's not sterile after all, and no amount of washing seems to get the little balls of Baby's black fur off him.
it's weird, i never felt the least bit anxious about any prior surgery. in fact the nurses laughed when they had to wake me up to insert the IV i was so relaxed (and no, it wasn't thanks to drugs). see, bob was there. i felt completely at ease in his presence and tend to just surrender myself over to the hospital staff (really, like there's a choice anyway?) i took for granted that if i died, not that i would have or will, he'd take care of things. but there is no more bob. the hospital has so many unpleasant memories for me, since this is where he died. bob won't be there. he won't sit with me beforehand, won't be there in Recovery, won't visit, won't take me home and take care of me. someone today told me "but he will be there" and i like that thought and could kiss her for saying so.
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