One would think it would be fun to have someone else do everything for you like grocery shop; carry laundry up and down stairs; and other sundry chores. I HATE it.

Don't get me wrong- I am so grateful that I have such a wonderful husband, but I'm much too independent for this. I'm a doer, not a taker and this is getting old. Every time I try to 'do', I'm either chastised by BJ or my foot starts yelling at me. That's not to say that I don't keep trying (double negative? What kind of drugs am I taking?)

We're flying the family (Cameron, Casey, Ranger Mike, Kathy, BJ and me) out to visit my parents in a few days and I'm starting to dread the idea of flying in a plane. If my foot isn't propped up, it starts aching. Bone pain ain't fun, as I've shared before. I told my foot surgeon that I'm surprised that this seems to hurt more than when I had all those fractures in my face. He said it's because of gravity, and he's not surprised. OK, that makes sense, but I'm getting really tired of sitting with my foot up. Lessee.... choices:

1. Sit with my foot up
2. Cry (not really, but I feel like it!)

BJ wants to get a wheelchair for the airport, but I dunno.... knowing me, I'll refuse and will hobble along on my crutches.

I'm also getting cabin fever and feel bad about not being able to take Einstein to the dog park. I feel like a complete slug and can feel my hips getting wider as I write this. ::sob:: I'm afraid for my jeans and the stress I'll be putting on the seams. Hopefully they fit- shoot, that would be terrible to find out the day I'm supposed to fly out.

In happier news, I'm really excited that we're all going to see my parents and brother. The 'kids' haven't seen my parents in something like four or five years and they're in for a big surprise. My dad is no longer wearing glasses (cataract surgery), which he's worn since his early 20's; and has shaved his mustache (something he's had since before the boys were born.) I'm tempted to bring a pair of Groucho Marx glasses just to ease us into this new look.

I'm beyond sad that everyone won't be there, but am hoping that one day we can make that happen.

I finished an e-learning course for one of my more well known clients today and then it will be translated to French. I was supposed to bill part of it at this juncture and the rest when the French version is done, but the client asked me to bill for the entire thing today so it'll go into her May budget. Gee, twist my arm.

I guess that's my way of saying, I'm not really sitting here doing nothing. I was back at work the same week I had the surgery being a money making machine. Good thing nobody wanted a drug test!

The maids get blamed for an awful lot of stuff around here. Is something missing? It was the maids. Something wasn't put back where I like it? Those MAIDS! Broken faucet? The maids (this time it really was the maids, costing me almost $60.00 to fix it- but I was able to do it myself!)

Anyhoo- yesterday was cleaning service day, so BJ took Einstein to puppy day camp and I holed up in the guest bedroom with a sign on the door requesting that they not enter.

They left at about noonish, and I was hungry so decided to make myself something to eat. I was particularly looking forward to a beautifully ripened tomato with some freshly ground sea salt and freshly ground course pepper. I walked over to the kitchen counter where I'd left the tomato and noticed immediately that it was MISSING. What the WHAT? What the heck did they do with my tomato? I looked everywhere for it because those darned maids have been known to put things in weird places. I even looked in the bread box! No tomato to be found. I could only surmise that they helped themselves to my precious tomato.

Break my faucet? We're cool. Re-fold my towels the way I don't like them? Meh, not happy about it- but it only takes me a moment to fix. But STEAL MY LAST TOMATO? This is war!

I eventually got over it and made myself some home-made caramel corn. Good trade, dontcha think?

This is not the end to this story, but I'll get back to it in a minute.

BJ took me to the foot surgeon this morning to have the dressings changed and get a refill on the pain meds (a big shout out to whomever created pain meds, by the way!). The foot is healing nicely, and I'll probably get my stitches out next week. I'm on crutches for a while longer, must keep it dry at all times (sure makes showering fun), and need to keep it elevated and iced as much as possible. The incision was much longer than I'd imagined, so I guess my foot modeling career is going to be on hold.

The surgeon explained that the bone formation was really strange, explaining why he had to chisel so much bone out of my foot and why the surgery was more complex than he thought it would be.

He again assured me that this surgery, without a doubt, is going to take care of the issue and I should have no more pain as soon as things heal.

On the way home from the foot surgeon BJ said, "I owe you a tomato".



He shared with me that he meant to get an apple and wasn't looking closely, so instead packed my precious tomato in his lunch bag.

Is this the part where I share with him that I looked in the oven for my tomato? Nah- I kept that part to myself and simply thanked him for bringing my precious tomato home unharmed.

I've been told by doctors and nurses that I have a high tolerance for pain in comparison to most other patients, so I can't even imagine what this foot pain must feel like to 'normal' people. For the most part, the pain meds have kept the pain to around a six or seven, but there have been many times that I've been at a 10 and it literally makes me cry.

The foot surgeon said that the surgery was more intense than he thought it would be. For example, he wasn't expecting to chisel and remove bone. My friend Erika wrote on my Facebook status that chisel and bone should not be used in the same sentence. She's on to something...

BJ has been taking Einstein to doggy day camp while he works, which has been great. I typically interact with Einstein all day, and that's not something I'm capable of doing right now. Going to day camp gives him something fun to do all day AND he comes home pooped out from all that playing.

I knew it would be frustrating to not be able to care for myself. I have to use crutches to get around and it's nearly impossible to use crutches and carry anything around. I try to multi-task when I need to get up to to to the bathroom or something, so I don't have to get up too much. I'm supposed to keep my foot elevated 24/7 and it's immediately evident why that's necessary when I get up to do something. The pain level shoots from a 6 or 7 to a 10 immediately.

Being waited on probably sounds pretty dreamy to most people, but it's HORRIBLE for me. I hate it. BJ's been very sweet about the whole thing, bless his heart. I'm just not someone who likes that sort of thing. I make a horrible patient.

My follow-up with the surgeon is Tuesday morning, with another one in one week after that. I'm guessing the second follow-up is when the stitches come out.

I'm rambling and so I'll stop here. I just wanted to check in so y'all know I'm alive and (not) kicking.

Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow at 9am, and I check in at 7:30. That is, if the cardiologist's office gives me clearance.

Suddenly, that's a big hairy deal.

I've called the cardiologists office several times as soon as I found out I was going to have surgery to see if there was something special I needed to tell my surgeon. No return phone calls until the hospital called them requesting my EKGs. I got a call from a nurse the cardiologist's office saying that I had no business scheduling a surgery without clearance from the cardiologist. Ummmm, I hope there are records somewhere showing all my messages so she knows what a jerk she was to me.

Today I've been busying myself with deep cleaning (stuff the maids seem to ignore, like pulling up the cushions on the couches and chairs and vacuuming underneath); and organizing stuff. Oh, and washing all of Einstein's stuff. That boy sheds like it's his job.

It's same-day surgery (as most are these days), so I'll most likely be home before the anesthesia completely wears off. I request that you overlook anything incriminating I may write on my blog whilst under the anesthesia and the hefty pain meds I've been prescribed.

See ya on the flip side.

Last night I attended the first meeting for the soon to be rolled out Hospice Ambassador program. I'll be one of a small handful of people who will have the opportunity to speak to various groups about Hospice and 'man' the Hospice booth at heath forums and other adventures.

I'll also get to help create the materials for the Hospice marketing department. Ha- that sounds kind of funny... Hospice has a marketing department?

It's true, because no matter what health organization your doctor is with, you can choose which Hospice to work with. Of course, we think we're the best Hospice out there and want to get the word out.

Since I've been a volunteer for three different Hospice organizations, I CAN honestly say that the one I'm with is the best. That's why I came back to this one.

My Hospice is Catholic based, but it wouldn't be evident to a patient (or a volunteer for that matter.) All faiths (or lack of) are supported and honored, which is nice since I'm not Catholic.

Not that there's anything wrong with being Catholic. I'm just not.

The two main differences between this organization and the others that I've worked with are:

1. This one opted out of the "Death With Dignity" Act. I'm personally a big supporter in this Act, but can understand why they opted out since they are faith-based. As a volunteer we're not even supposed to discuss how it works, just simply give a pamphlet with more information. The Hospice health care workers cannot be involved in any way with the act (cannot give the meds, or be in the room when it happens), but can still provide care and comfort to a patient that has made that decision.


2. Our Hospice organization provides less structure and more patient and family guided care. Some Hospice organizations have rigid rules, such as no traveling; you have to have a DNR and other restrictive policies. My organization believes that everyone is different and respects that.

I'll be a good representative for Hospice in general because I tend to evangelize about it anyhow, but it's nice to be connected to an organization that cares for people the way I'd want to be cared for. The management feel like family to me and they seem like family to each other. It's unique to any other organization I've been with.

I'm looking forward to the next journey, especially the public speaking piece. I've always wanted to be a public speaker but didn't really know which topic I was passionate about enough to invest my energy. This one just fell in my lap, as most things have these days.