I Heart Crap

...and crap hearts me.

This last weekend was the first weekend in a long time that I haven't had plans or some craziness hasn't happened. I was really grateful for the down time. While I did get some crafting done (I finished Carole's baby quilt--her having the baby was good motivation), I spent a lot of time doing nothing but sitting around and watching TV. You know what I figured out this weekend? I love the new Simple Life season...Paris and Nicole go to camp...or something like that. I'm not even really sure they aren't repeats. I was watching the marathon on E!. So great. Much better than the second season; I only could stand to watch one episode of that season before quiting. But this! This is SO much better crap. Every week there is a new kind of camp going on that the girls are counselors at: fat camp, beauty pageant camp, love camp. And the girls aren't as stupid and ridiculous this time around. Don't get me wrong. There are still many moments of ridiculousness, but overall, most of the shenanigans (if you will) aren't preposterous. And what is wrong with Paris for not liking Hunter? Are we kidding me? He is way too hot! I mean really, Paris. You'll date Nick Carter but you won't give the hot counselor a little action?! This guy is so good looking that I really think he might be a hired model or something for the show. (How naive do I sound right now?) What are the odds of someone that hot being a camp counselor? Shoot, let me tell you, my summer camp counselors were never that good looking! So, really and truly, I love crap!

And briefly let me go through all the reasons crap loves me:
1. My jacked up arm. I'm in physical therapy now. And it does seem to be doing better, but it still definitely has its moments.
2. Two weekends ago I got the stomach flu. Ended up in the ER until 2am. Lots of IVs. They kept trying to hydrate me but I seriously don't think I was dehydrated. Don't get me wrong, I did have the typical stomach flu symptoms (if you know what I mean), but that really wasn't the main problem. The main problem was the excruciating stomach pain. We're talking can't move, can't breath, might pass out pain. My mom said I looked like I was in labor because the pain would hit and I would double-up, stop breathing and scrunch up my face til it started to pass, and then start breathing real fast...kinda like Lamaze (spelling?). They couldn't figure out what was wrong, so eventually the shot me up with anti-nausea meds and then morphine. Crazy! I've never had morphine before. Even that didn't make the pain stop but it certainly made it bearable. Once that was determined, they sent me on my way with some Vicodin. It took a few days to get past the worst of it. As of now, everyone in my family has gotten it. None of them with the crazy stomach pain, but most of them with worse puking and, well, you know.
3. The Thursday after that, I got a call that my uncle was in kidney failure, had decided not to do treatment, and had a month to live. So, that Saturday, we headed up to Oregon to say our goodbyes. He died while we were in transit. He's had all kinds of health problems (stemming from Type I Diabetes) that have totally been exacerbated over these last few years. So really, he is resting easier, but still. My biggest regret is that I didn't really know him anymore. He was my favorite uncle and when I was young, we were pretty close despite the fact that he lived in another state. When he would come and visit he would pow-wow with me in my room and just ask all about me and my life and what was going on. We would talk for hours. But when I went to college, I just didn't have the time off anymore to visit. My dad didn't visit him much, and when he did it was always while I was in school, right in the middle of classes. So, I lost touch. Last year, for a summer vacation, my dad and brother and I went to visit all the relatives in Oregon and that was the first time I'd seen him in 10 years. By then he was blind and had had a stroke. He wasn't a happy camper. I just feel like I missed out, you know? I should have visited more and called him and talked to him while I had the opportunity. We just aren't as close with my dad's side of the family and so...I missed out. Lots of regrets--I'm crying just writing this. My grandfather didn't even know he'd been in the hospital because, it turned out that my grandfather had also been in the hospital having an emergency removal of his gallbladder. That plus his heart condition prompted his wife to wait about telling him. So, we got to help break the news. Heart-wrenching. Then we visited my grandmother who was, of course, also distraught. More wrenching of the heart. Oh, and the night before we left Oregon, was when my brother came down with the stomach flu, which was really worrisome as he already has some pretty serious long term health problems and the last time he got seriously ill, he ended up hospitalized for a week. This time, while he was really sick, it didn't end with him in the hospital. So it was stressful, but ended up ok.
4. I don't even want to talk about how I strained the muscle in my hip region. But I did. And it's been bothering me. Technically I could file another workman's comp claim, but I'm really trying to avoid that. Having two workman's comp claims going at once just doesn't sound like a good idea. So I went to the doctor at Kaiser. She poked at my butt muscle and declared that I have a predisposition to inflamed joints (this is also the doctor I initially saw about my arm) and basically said that I will never be able to run or lift weights or play volleyball or do anything shocking to the joints again. After I left and stopped crying (I mean, come on, at this point, I am one big emotional wreck), I got pissed. Whatever. Seriously, she's going to diagnose something as drastic as that without any real tests? Her solution to my strained leg was to slowly start walking (I told her that walking actually makes it feel better--which to me doesn't sound like upset joints), never do any muscle strengthening to support the joints and in six months or so my leg should stop hurting. She also just recommended shoulder rolls for my arm and now that I'm doing the PT, there are all kinds of things they are having me to do to help it. I get that she is more new age-y in her treatment. And she is super nice. But still, second opinion, please. So, I've requested to see a specialist.
5. And just now, as I was writing #4, my mom just called and said that she took my grandma to the doctor's today since she's been so sick with the stomach flu. Yup, they found some craziness going on with her heart. It's beating erratically and too fast. She already has a heart murmur, so lots of testing and monitoring in the next few weeks to see what they can make of it. And when my mom called my aunt to tell her, my aunt just got the news that her blood platelet levels are low, really low. So they are going to do another test in a week and if it doesn't improve they are going to have to do some bone marrow testing for leukemia. Shit.

What else can life throw at me? They have these signs at the SF Zoo near the monkey exhibits that say "Beware, I throw my feces." I feel like life is throwing its feces at me. Crap loves me right now. I haven't even talked to a lot of my friends because I've just been so overwhelmed with everything. Which is kind of weird. Because I miss my friends and I need to laugh, but I just am busy dealing with everything, so I haven't seen them. I need a vacation. With my friends. I need to laugh.

Whew, anyway, did I say that would be brief. Sorry. Tomorrow (hopefully) I'll have a no whining and bitching, knitting only update.