Kristann Monaghan's Blog, page 13

BFF and I Go International…Ignore the News Reports You Might Have Heard

BFF and I always have a great time traveling and this year we broke our Disneyland rut and ventured into new territory…Seattle!  We used a wedding as an excuse, although we were so excited to see this bride-to-be get married as her and her sexy Asian groom are two of our closest friends (plus we think they are adorbs).  Since neither of us had ever been up to Washington before, we decided to do a few touristy things while we were there.  First thing on our list was a whale watching excursion.  Orca whales migrate with the salmon in that area and the time we were going to be there was prime whale watching time.  We were excited to have the opportunity to see these magnificent creatures in the wild.  Then BFF realized one thing…she was gonna have to be on a boat.  All day.

For those of you unawares, BFF is scared of water.  I mean really she doesn’t swim or like to go near large bodies of water.  At all.  So the fact that she was willing to get on a boat and stay on a boat all day was pretty impressive.  She really knew that she might not ever get this chance again and really wanted to see the Orcas.  So off we went to go have a typical adventure..BFF’s fears and all.  I was slightly nervous about getting on a boat as well, only because I suffer from motion sickness and was really hoping I would not spend the entire time on the boat leaning over the side hurling my guts out.  I preemptively took a Dramamine in hopes that I would be fine and we drove to the dock where the boat was to leave from.  Because that would not be fun for anyone involved, although it might bring the whales to the boat…ew.  Gross.  Let’s just leave that thought right where it is before I gag writing.  We got on the boat and BFF was glad to see that there was a place to sit inside with plexiglass and that they offered lunch (we really do love to eat).  We were still pretty excited despite BFF hating water and me not waiting to barf all day.

Excited but nervous! Plus smiling helps suppress the vomit factor

As we traveled on the boat, the Captain told us tidbits about the surrounding islands, including that one island sold for $2 million dollars and didn’t even have a house, dock, power or even a potty on it.  I mean…what is the point?  So the buyer can say they own an island?  Well you can’t even take a poop on your island!  Who would want an island that you can’t poop on?  Where are you going to do that?  In the water?  Just hang your fanny off the edge of the island and poop?  Rich people are crazy if you ask me…I want a place to poop.  Period.  We ate a pleasant lunch on the boat, enjoying the ride, and even BFF said that if we didn’t see whales that at least the boat ride was pretty.  Then, the Captain announced we were leaving American waters and entering Canadian waters in order to catch up with the whales. Wait..what?  We are going into international waters?  Do we need passports? If we get arrested at sea where do they take us?  BFF and I were curious but also wondered what would require arrest when you are whale watching.  But not too curious.  I didn’t want to have to call home and explain I got arrested while we were watching whales and in Canadian waters.  Pretty sure that would be an uncomfortable phone call home.  We realized we should go outside since we were going to see whales soon and we wanted to see Canada…so BFF bravely ventured out onto the bow of the boat to see both.

BFF? Is that Canada you see?

We were singing a few bars of Oh Canada! when the Captain announced the whales were all around us.  There they were swimming along, feeding on salmon, and we got to see them.  A lot of them.  It was an amazing experience I shall never forget.  BFF did well, only holding on for dear life for a while and then got lost in the beauty of the whales.  She even took a video on her phone.  Never have I seen such huge, majestic creatures swimming right along side our boat and I was able to catch it on my camera.  Thank goodness for the burst setting so I could get amazing shots like these:

Best. Shot. Ever. And yes…this is MY photo

Wow…just wow

After we saw the whales, the Captain announced that we had to head back as we had a long ways to go to get back to the dock.  We left international waters, without incident and without getting arrested.  Of course, on our way back, the trip took a turn as only would happen on a trip BFF and I were on…for reals.  The Captain suddenly announced we were going to help a boat in distress and offer to take on passengers.  Even the gal who worked the lunch counter and was making us all ice cream sundaes looked shocked and said that this never happened.  As we approached, we saw a boat on fire…for serious.  On fire.  I swear we didn’t do it!  BFF and I watched as the Coast Guard was putting out the fire and the Captain of our boat offered to take on passengers.  The Coast Guard declined so we went on our merry way, BFF and I wondering how a boat catches on fire (I am sure this fueled some fears for her but she maintained her cool well) but hoping we never had to find out.  I am pretty sure if our boat had caught fire, BFF would have been the first one in the water, dog paddling to that 2 million dollar pottiless island to wait it out there, even if she had to poop hanging her butt off the edge of the island for all the world and whales to see.  And I would have been right behind her….

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did see Orcas in person, ride a boat all day with a BFF who is scared of water, and see a boat on fire but I didn’t die or get arrested in international waters.  I am Fat Girl still wondering who buys an island for 2 million dollars that you can’t take a poop on Running.  The experiment continues…

That Time I Almost Got Strip Searched at the Airport…Thanks Mom

I have been traveling a lot this summer and that means one thing…flying.  I don’t really like flying very much.  If I could take the train everywhere I would.  But taking the train requires extra days to travel and sometimes I just don’t have that luxury.  One of the reasons I hate flying is all the security stuff you have to go through.  I know it is necessary but it is a little stressful.  Riding on the train you just don’t have that.  You just get on the train and ride to your destination.  I have seen someone arrested on the train…that was exciting, but not stressful.  Flying for me is just stressful.  If I can, I like to fly out of Flagstaff’s airport because it is small and the security doesn’t even open till about 15 minutes before you board.  It is relaxed and not rushed like in a big city.  This is not always possible like when my Bubby and our Mom flew to Iowa for our Aunt’s funeral.  Bubby and I drove down to Phoenix to pick up our Mom and we flew from Phoenix to Des Moines and back.  Now if you think I hate flying and it is stressful for me, my Mom is a nervous flyer and worse than me.  So lets put those two things together and you will get a situation that almost ended up with me being strip searched and a flashlight shoved up my bum by TSA flying home from Iowa.

Because we were only going for a few days, we all took carry on bags to make things simpler and quicker.  On our way home, we had been given various item by my Aunty T and that made our bags heavier and full.  Mine was stuffed full actually. So I knew it might be hard to see everything in there when they put it through the x-ray scanner.  But, it was the only way to get it all home.  Now, our Mom qualifies for TSA pre-check, which means she gets through the line quicker because she doesn’t have to take off her shoes, sweater or any of those other things.  She can even go in a separate line and get done way before me and Bubby so we agreed she would wait for us at the end of all the security hoopla.  We get up to the conveyor belt and I start to get nervous, trying to remember if I took everything out of my pockets and such before I entered the scanner.  Bubby went through before me and as I was going in I hear him talking to the TSA guy about the fact that he forgot he had a half drank bottle of Mountain Dew in the side pocket of his backpack.  He told them to just throw it away.  As I entered the scanner, I heard Mom, who was sitting at the end of the tables, ask why they were talking to him and Bubby telling her it was fine.  Mom continued to ask him why he had that in there and he told her he just forgot as he continued to gather his stuff.  I stepped out of the scanner and the TSA agent told me to step to the side because the scanner picked up “something” on me.  Ok. I can do that,  At the same time, the other TSA agent asked whose bag mine was and when I acknowledged it, he told me they had to put it back through the scanner.  Ok I figured.  Now here is where I wished my Mom, although I love her, had kept her mouth shut.

The female TSA agent who asked me to step aside told me something on my butt looked “weird” so she was gonna pat me down.  Wow  I didn’t know this trip came with a free ass grab, but ok.  I hear my Mom say to Bubby, who is still gathering his stuff, start to talk quite loudly to him.  Here is how the conversation went between all of us, much to my chagrin and the amusement of the TSA agents.

Mom:  “What is wrong with your sister’s bag?  Why are they running it again?”

Bubby:  “Mom, it’s fine.  It is just full.  We will be right there.”

Mom (who has now noticed I am getting my ass grabbed by the TSA agent and whose voice grows in loudness):  “Oh my God Kristann!  What did you do that you have to be patted down?  What are you trying to sneak in?”

Me (now embarrassed beyond belief but realizing it is just the studs on my jeans) to the TSA agent:  “Is it the studs on the pockets on my jeans?  So sorry about my Mom…just ignore her.” TSA agent smiles slightly but continues to grab my ass for quite a pat down.

Bubby (at the same time I am talking to the TSA agent and wondering if she is gonna feel up my boobs too):  “MOM!  Stop!  It is fine!  It is just her jeans.  She didn’t do anything wrong.  We will be right there!”  Looks over at me and rolls his eyes and looks surprised at the TSA agent still grabbing my ass.

TSA agent (who finally has let go of my ass):  “I need to see your palms please.”  Oh great…now I get a gun powder residue check as I quickly try to remember if I handled any firearms…yeah our family is like that.  I turn my palms over for the check and the cacophony around me between my Bubby and my Mom continues like this:

Mom (whose voice now seems even louder and shriller to me as I cringe at the looks the TSA agents are now giving me, like I have something to hide):  “Why are they checking her palms?  What are they doing?  First your bags, then your sister gets patted down and now this.  Kristann?  What are you doing?  Why are they doing all this to you? Are you hiding something or smuggling something?”

Bubby:  “Mom!  Serious!  She is fine…it is a random check.  Just sit there and wait!”  He has now gotten so flustered he cannot fasten his belt and has tried to put on my shoe.  He looks over at me to check on me again and I give him a smile and tilt my head to the shoe he is trying to put on that is not his.  He quickly realizes his error and puts my shoe back.  Thank goodness Mom has now stopped making me feel like a criminal and is now just waiting for us.

The other TSA agent has finally cleared my bag and it is through the x-ray machine but the female one who grabbed my ass for an uncomfortable amount of time is still looking at me skeptically as she wipes my hands.  I am starting to wonder if she is gonna take me into the back, make me strip search and shove a flashlight up my bum and my va-jay-jay to make sure I have no drugs or explosives smuggled in there.  Thankfully, she finishes and whispers “Don’t worry…I have a Mom who is a nervous flyer too.  Just take a deep breath.”  I nervously giggle and make my way over to grab my stuff making sure I bend over in her general direction since she enjoyed grabbing my ass so much.  Bubby and I quickly get out of there before they decide to strip search me and get our Mom, who is still questioning me as to what I did to make them do all that to me.  I take a deep breath and answer her “Mom, the TSA agent just wanted to feel me up and get a piece of my sweet sweet ass. That’s all.”  I got a quick swat on the arm for that answer but the questions stopped and the rest of the journey home was uneventful.  Mom…next time just let me get some action from the nice TSA agent, ok?  A girl has to get some somehow…

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did almost get strip searched because of studs on my jeans and a vocal mother but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl whose ass got groped a little long but avoided the flashlight up my bum Running.  The experiment continues…

 

BFF Has Mad Line Skills or How to Make Friends at Comicon

Remember how I talked about BFF and I getting our Barrowman sandwich on?  Well, in order to do these photo ops, you must first show up early and get in a line to wait with other like-minded geeks and nerds that are waiting for the same opportunity of a lifetime.  Last year, you will recall that we did the photo-op with our Wil Wheaton and this year we opted to do two of them.  The first we did with Nathan Fillion and the second of course was our Barrowman sandwich.  So, one the day we were to meet Captain Mal, AKA Fillion, we had purchased an early time of 1015 because we HAD to get upstairs to see our love Barrowman talk afterwards.  We asked one of the workers at the Comicon the day before where and when we needed to show up and were told that we needed to be there about 45 minutes early and that we would line up outside the doors to the exhibition hall since that would not open until ten anyways.  Armed with that info, we made plans accordingly for the next day.

We aried for our photo-op with Captain Mal at the said 45 minutes early to be astounded by the HUMUNGOUS crowd already gathering outside the doors we were told to go to line up.  Holy cow…there were hundreds of people all around the area where we were supposed to line up and in no particular order.  Here is where Phoenix Comicon could take a lesson from Disneyland.  Disneyland is the expert on lines and making them not feel like lines.  There were no line markings, no barriers and for sure no singing anials to entertain us.  They could have at least gotten a few of those people dressed up like Furry woodland creatures to sing and dance while we were waiting.  We tried to make sense of where we were supposed to be but really it was a giant horde of Fillion fans waiting to push their way into the hall to get their precious few seconds with him.  Finally, BFF spotted a worker who was holding the sign that said End of the Line.  Perfect!  We shall go to his sign and get in line.  We walked over only to have this worker explain to a group of us that there were too many people in line and we would all have to go away and come back later. Wait…what?  Um….no.  We paid for this time slot and we were not about to come back later and risk missing our photo-op or the panel where Barrowman was speaking right afterwards.  He kept telling us to come back later and BFF and I looked at each other.  We were not going anywhere. Geeks around us were all appalled as well and we still could not tell where the line actually was in the crowd.  We started discussing the absurdity of the situation with our fellow Browncoats behind us as we wandered a short ways off but kept the End of Line Guy in our sights.  All of a sudden, BFF grabs my hand and wiggles her tiny little Mexican body into what she had determined was the line and we were in front of the End of the Line Guy!!  BFF has mad line cutting skills I tell ya.  We kept quiet and silently just stood there and he continually turned people away.  We grinned at each other, knowing we were now the End of the Line.  Our fellow geeky Browncoats that we had been talking with see us in line were astounded that now we were in the actual (at least we hoped) line to get our photo.  There was so much craziness going on that we figured what is a few more people.  So we quickly grabbed our new-found group of friends and pulled them into line with us.  When someone questioned us, we said these were our friends who had been looking for us the whole time and we had gotten separated in the crowd.  So they let it go.  We even did a selfie with our new friends in line like we had all known each other forever

Geeky friends we still don’t even know their names…#comiconissues

One snafu to BFF’s mad line skills came when a lady who was standing right with the End of Line Guy complained that we had line jumped.  We quickly denied we had line jumped and instead stuck with our story that we had been there and our friends had just joined us.  The End of the Line Guy, obviously now frustrated by his job and all of the fans, told the lady he could not prove we had line jumped so we were going to stay.  She continued to complain loudly and finally BFF leaned over and told the End of Line Guy to just let her come up with us so she would shut up.  He graciously agreed and let her be the official end of the line.  There was still no order to the line and we had no clue where the line was going.  Finally they opened the doors to the exhibition hall to alleviate the crush of people that was obviously now a fire code hazard.  Somehow despite the lack of line markings and people randomly doing what we did by just joining the crush of people we got in to see Fillion and get our picture taken with him.  It was as awesome as it sounds.

Why Fillion…you look quite mischievous.  Ignore the glare from the plastic covering the photo.

The next day when we arrived to get our Barrowman sandwich on, we got there even earlier but the mad crush of people was for Stan Lee this time so we were able to go right inside and join the other Barrowman fans.  Who do we spot once again behind us in line?  The complaining lady who now acted like we were her best friends at Comicon.  Sigh.  We talked with her even though she annoyed us and almost made us lose our spot in the Fillion line with her complaining.  I mean we were about to stalk…I mean meet Barrowman so that high was gonna last all day…as you previously read.  Photo ops are totally worth it!  But Phoenix Comicon planners:  next time plan for such big crowds and line markings will help immensely.  Also dancing and singing woodland creatures.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did think e might not be able to decipher the crowd/line to get to see Fillion but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl with a BFF who has mad line cutting skills and who made some new geeky friends in line Running.  The experiment continues…

Would You Like Fries With That Barrowman Sandwich?

You all know by now, or at least you should, that BFF and I attend the local Geekfest every year known as Phoenix Comicon.  We proudly let our geek flag fly and join thousands of other like-minded geeks in squees of joy over our favorite celebrities, shows, costumes…you name it and everything geeky, nerdy and cool can be found at Comicon.  Being HUGE Firefly and Doctor Who fanatics, BFF and I were particularly excited this year for two panels in particular:  Nathan Fillion and John Barrowman.  But especially Barrowman…we absolutely adore Capt. Jack.  So we packed nerdy t-shirts and headed to the hotbox of Phoenix in the summer…the only thing that would get us down there in the summer is Comicon and the chance to stalk Barrowman.

We had decided this year to stay away from all the hotels in the Comicon general area to avoid the con-goers.  Don’t get us wrong, we love our fellow geeks but they can be pretty excited about Con and quite noisy.  One year, we had a room full of boy gamers next door to us…to say they were over exuberant as they gamed into the wee hours of the night was an understatement.  Plus, BFF and I are admittedly hotel snobs and decided to stay at a resort instead.  What can we say?  We like soft beds and room service.  Especially room service.  For reals.  Nothing like having someone bring food to your hotel room so you can scarf to your heart’s delight in private.  So, after a fantastic night’s sleep and great room service breakfast, we headed down to retrieve my car from valet.  Of course, we had on our comic book shirts (Batman of course!!) and our passes that said we were allowed entry into Geekfest 2014.  When we arrived at the valet, the dude asked me if we were waiting for the shuttle to the Con. The what?  Wait…why do they have a shuttle?  Huh.  When I said no we were getting the keys to my car that was parked there he went to get them.  BFF started walking to the car and I looked up at the guy standing in front of me on his phone.  He looked up and smile and I about died…Barrowman was right there!  Capt. Jack Harkness in the flesh…in front of me…me unable to speak with my mouth open.  Wait…my brain is trying to decipher this info.  This means Barrowman is at my hotel. Wow.  I recovered my ability to speak and quickly called BFF.  She came back, slightly annoyed that I didn’t have my keys yet and asked “What?” in an annoyed way.  I whispered “Look” to which BFF immediately lost her ability to speak as well and uttered some sort high-pitched alien sound and quickly pulled me toward the car.  I didn’t even realize my keys had been handed to me at this point but since we had lost our ability to speak English, we figured it was best to just get into the car.  Once inside, BFF and I looked at each other and screamed like the fangirls that we are..loudly, I might add.  A fangirl dance of joy also might have happened in my car.  BFF then turned to me and asked “Do you think he realized we love him?”  I took a look in my rearview mirror, saw him smiling at our car, and replied “Pretty sure since he totally heard us squee.”  Probably made his day…I know it made ours.

On the last day of Con, BFF and I had purchased a photo-op with our love Barrowman.  Our love for him is truly only matched by our love for Wil Wheaton, who was not at this year’s Con so we stalked Barrowman instead of Wheaton.  A photo-op, for those non Con-goers out there, is when you can purchase the opportunity to have your photo taken with a celebrity.  Totally worth it, in case you were wondering.  We even went as far as decking ourselves out in complete Doctor Who shirts and jewelry for our photo.  John Barrowman seriously loves his fans and really is one of the best celebrities to ever have an encounter with…he is extremely grateful for all his fans.  Before all the photos started, JB (that is what I call him now cuz we are so close and all) came out to the crowd and addressed everyone, telling us all that anything goes in his photo ops except for kissing because he got super sick his first Con when he made that mistake.  BFF and I could not think of what we wanted to do…we were at a loss.  Do we do some silly pose?  Or do we just make a Barrowman sandwich and get as close to our love as we could?  We got nervous as we got closer and BFF grabbed my hand for support.  Would we be able to remember how to speak English this time?  We gripped our hands tighter as it became our turn, hoping that words would come out and I also hoped I would be able to not vomit as we got so close to him.  JB turned to us and said “What do you two lovely ladies want from me?”  BFF, surprisingly, remembered how to speak English and immediately enthusiastically blurted out “We want a Barrowman sandwich!!”  Totally out of character for BFF who hates to talk to strangers, especially a celebrity we have been stalking online and off at Con (and our hotel to be honest…BFF wanted to run screaming Barrowman’s name through the resort to see if he would come out).  I think her love for Barrowman had overtaken her shyness at this point and her face immediately broke out in a big grin when he replied “Well then…get right in here and hold on tight!”  We scrambled over and BFF wasted no time in wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around him.  I still had not remembered how to speak English but went to put my arm around the other side, when he grabbed my hand and put it smack on his tight little butt and pulled me in tight.  Barrowman sandwich complete!  Would you like fries with that Barrowman sandwich?  Why yes…yes I would!!  The result?  This:

The love shines here in our Barrowman sandwich. Where are my fries?

It was a brief shiny blissful moment.  And when it was over, squees were uttered and dances of joy were had as we left.  Best. Sandwich. Ever.  And I had also magically regained my ability to once again speak the English language.  Funny how that happens.  So fellow geeks…if ever you get the chance to get to a Con and your favorite celebrity is there…I encourage you to do the photo-op.  So worth it.  Oh and Barrowman…please ignore the girls next year running through the resort screaming your name like an elaborate game of hide and seek (well wouldn’t THAT be fun?)…we only stalk you and Wheaton we swear.  So feel honored you have achieved Fat Girl adoration stage that leads to stalking (and hopefully not jail time).  Our ultimate photo-op would be Barrowman and Wheaton together…sigh…a geeky Fat Girl can dream.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did stalk John Barrowman at the Phoenix Comicon and think about an elaborate game of hide and seek with him at our resort, but I didn’t die.  I am geeky Fat Girl who had a Barrowman sandwich and finally regained my ability to speak English (although not in his presence) Running.  The experiment continues…

When Friendship Leads to Christening a Car…With Urine

Remember how much of an asshole my kidney was being?  Well, I went into to see the Pee-Pee doctor a couple of weeks ago to see if I had flushed that damn stone out. I mean I was drinking so much water that I was sloshing around as I walked.  I went in feeling confident it must have passed only to have Pee-Pee doctor tell me it hadn’t.  Asshole kidney.  Guess what that meant?  More surgery to remove it.  I could have waited, but I was due to travel to Seattle and didn’t want to end up at Seattle Grace with McDreamy looking all up in my business, so surgery it had to be.  BFF was unable to take me to surgery due to work so enlisted one of  my other friends MA to help me out.  Damn asshole kidney.

So there I was, having more surgery on my lady business…but at least this time I did it at an outpatient surgery center and knew I would go home that same day.  Unfortunately, Pee-Pee doctor told me I would have to have another stent placed that I would then remove when I was up in Seattle.  Oh joy.  That sounds like so much fun…not.  Good thing I did the Fat Girl gymnastics to shave the jungle forest that was growing down there since I was gonna have a bunch of people all up in there, including BFF who was gonna have to pull the stent.  Also a good thing was the anesthesiologist was one I knew and gave me good drugs before wheeling me into the OR.  A little propofol, or MJ juice as I like to call it, was given to me and quickly I felt like my head was swimmy and I told MA that all while waving my fingers in front of my face like an idiot.  I am pretty funny on the good drugs.  Then the nurse started asking me questions and I could barely concentrate on what she was saying.  Believe me, I tried.  I even tried a deep breath as she was talking to me…who asks a patient questions about their allergies after the MJ juice has been given?  For reals.  When they wheeled me into the OR, the nurses asked me where I was going on my sleepy vacation.  Duh.  Disneyland.  As I fell asleep, we were discussing rides at Disneyland.  Good times.

I woke up rather quickly in the OR and felt the device they used in my airway called an LMA. I know now why patients pull at tubes in their throat…it was all I could do not to pull it out.  Thank goodness they removed it right away.  Immediately upon arrival to the recovery room, I told the nurse I had to pee…and BADLY.  She put a bedpan underneath me but not before I had involuntarily peed on the gurney.  WTH?  I freaking peed the gurney.  Awesome.  I chalked it up to coming out of anesthesia at first till she put the bedpan under me and I still could not control my bladder.  MA came in to see me and help me get my clothes back on.  As I stood up, more urine ran down my leg.  Seriously WTH?  This didn’t happen with the last surgery.  Now I can’t control my bladder?  MA asked the nurse for a maxi pad as I was standing there naked, peeing myself.  Great friend that she is, she even got all up in my lady business to check the stent and it was fine.  Really glad I shaved now.  I asked to be wheeled to the potty once I was dressed, feeling urine leaking the entire time.  By the time I got to the bathroom, the pad was soaked so I put on another one, which I also immediately soaked.  Seriously.  This was crazy.  MA at least thought to ask for a pad to put underneath me in her car.  The nurse never once said anything about this bladder leaking.  I was worried I would not be able to control my bladder for the rest of my life at this point.  MA and I started laughing in her car about me having to wear an astronaut diaper on the plane to Seattle when I looked at her and said “I am peeing my pants.  Right now.  In your car.  Your car has just been christened…with my pee.  Awesome.”  That led us to hysterics and for me to completely soak my pants with my own urine.  Yup.  Totally christened MA’s car with my urine.

Upon getting home, I opted to go straight to the toilet and sit while MA went and filled my prescriptions and got me Poise pads to put in my underwear.  Great.  It had come to this.  At age 43, I was gonna have to start wearing Poise pads in my chonies and astronaut diapers while traveling because my kidney was an asshole.  I was sitting there on the potty, leaking urine, when I got curious about the stent.  So I took a look at my own lady business.  There staring back at me was..the stent.  Or at least a good chunk of it.  Hanging out of my urethra franklin.  This could not be good.  Pretty sure that was not normal.  I quickly walked to grab my phone sans pants at this point with a pad shoved between my legs.  I am so sexy.  A quick phone call to Pee-Pee doctor’s office and they confirmed this was for sure not normal.  I was instructed to take two pain pills , wait an hour and pull it out.  The office even told me if I didn’t pull it out, I would leak urine all the time.  Well…this makes a bit more sense.  It must have been dislodged from the minute I hit the recovery room.  Awesome.  Of course this was me.  Nothing is ever simple or normal with me.  A quick call to MA and I explained the situation.  At this point, Bubby and Pocket GF have come over to stay with me and all I can do is tell them the situation from the potty in my bathroom.  Pretty sure I do not want either one of them all up in my lady business so I wait for MA to come back from the store.  Good thing I have great friends.  MA returned and looked into my lady business again to also confirm that the stent was now hanging out.  I was done with sitting on the potty, not controlling my bladder, so MA and I decided just to pull the damn thing out.  Good thing I am also not modest as we grabbed the offending stent and pulled it out of my urethra franklin.  Immediately, I could control my bladder and I was more comfortable.  Whew.  My fleeting vision of a lifetime of astronaut diapers and Poise pads was dismissed.  Again, I am so grateful for my friend MA and the laughter we had that day.  Let’s hope my kidney quits being an asshole now.  Jerk.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did think I was going to be condemned to wearing astronaut diapers for the rest of my life, but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who christens my friend’s car with my own urine Running.  The experiment continues…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Kidney Is An Asshole

So I went to visit my Seester since it had been a year since we had seen each other (horror!) and she having just had surgery on her foot was unable to travel.  Off to Texas with me then!!  We did all the fun things you do with Seesters…shopping, sushi, shopping, more sushi, discussing books…you know the usual. We even drove up to Little Rock, Arkansas to pick up our baby sister and visit my Dad.  When we returned the next day, baby sister in tow, my kidney decided to become an asshole.

We had just gotten back from Little Rock when I noticed my back was hurting.  Of course, I thought it was just the way I had been sitting in the car for the last six hours.  Now, a couple of days before we went on our trip I had noticed it seemed to feel like I had to pee an awful lot and like my bladder was spasming again like after the surgery.  I had even texted that to BFF and made up my mind that I would go see the Pee-Pee Doctor when I got home.  This pain, however, was just like last time but started to intensify in increments and brought along it’s lovely friend nausea.  It was so horrid that I excused myself to lie down and texted BFF to ask her what I should do.  We agreed I should go and ask my Seester or BIL to take me to the nearest ED since the pain was worsening and nausea was increasing.  Seester, who was worried, agreed and we set off to the nearest ED which, luckily for me, was just down the street from Seester’s house.

After getting checked in, I was taken right back since I could not even sit still long enough for the poor nurse to take my vitals because of the pain.  The room we were put in was like an ice box and changing into the oh so warm and soft (can you hear the sarcasm?) patient gown gave a new meaning to goosebumps.  You could have cut glass with…well you get it.  Soon, I had an IV started and labs drawn and was hoping for pain meds to make the increasing level of pain go away.  The doc came in and I swear I got the India version of Doogie Howser because he looked to be all of twelve.  Guess what he told me was wrong?  Kidney stone!  Really?  For serious didn’t I just go through this?  Yup.  My kidney is an asshole and decided to give me a kidney stone on my trip.  Awesome. I could barely focus on what India Doogie was saying as the pain was escalating to the point that I was going to start throwing things or going on a vagina punching rampage.  He quickly said he would go order me some.  I might have scared him with my demonic faces as I was trying to talk to him.  Tick tock tick tock….Now I am writhing in pain on the gurney and sobbing, begging my Seester to make the pain stop.  Seester, fed up with waiting, did her best Shirley MacLaine impression from Terms of Endearment. She hobbled out to the nurses station, crutches and walking boot and all, slammed down her fist and demanded I get pain meds.  Thank you Seester.  The poor nurse that came in kept apologizing to us for the delay and immediately I felt relief.  Medicated and with orders to call my own Pee-Pee Doctor in the morning since I was flying home in two days, I left the ED and went back to Seester’s house, where my sweet baby sister handed me a beaded necklace she had made me to make me feel better.

Once I flew back home two days later, BFF and I went up to get an Xray and see the Pee-Pee Doctor.  Yup.  he was pretty sure that I was correct in saying my kidney is an asshole and that there was a stone.  A CT later and confirmation…my kidney is definitely an asshole.  A small kidney stone can be seen and we are hoping I pass it soon and do not need another procedure to remove it.  Oh joy.  Listen asshole of a kidney…quit this already.  I really do not like these stones as they are quite painful and make me want to do torturous things like pull out chest hairs one by one on a really hairy guy.  That could prove to be fun.  Let’s hope I pass it soon.  I have desperately trying to flush my system to get it to pass.  I blame my kidney.  My kidney is for sure an asshole.  Jerk. 

Oh yeah…I didn’t die today.  I did however have a little kink in my trip to my Seester and BIL and get treated by India’s Doogie Howser but I didn’t die.   I am Fat Girl with a kidney who is an asshole Running.  The experiment continues…

Direct TV or a Tardis? Just Ask My Mom…

We all know how big of geeks me and BFF are, but what I might have failed to tell you, is that my siblings and their significant others are all nerds as well.  It is like one big nerdfest when we all get together.  There is usually not one serious style of grown up shirt amongst us…it is almost as if we are all trying to out nerd each other with our collection of nerdy shirts.  We frequently have discussions that, if overheard by non nerds, might qualify us for a mental institution.  I mean, who really would have an hour long discussion on who was more evil…Darth Vader or The Borg?  I still say The Borg, by the way…they would assimilate Vader’s ass.  See…geeks are us.  Now our parents, are a little less geeky to say the least….especially our Mom.

Don’t get me wrong, our Mom likes good sci-fi like all of us, but she does not harbor the love like we do (I might get my unholy love of reality TV from her though).  She does read a lot of sci-fi books, but is really not into all the shows or movies or pop culture references like we are.  So, sometimes our conversations seem to go a little over her head or she looks at us all like we have three heads each, like that dog on Harry Potter.  I also get my electronically challengedness from my Mom.  I considered it a feat worth dancing and whooping too when I connected my XBox to my TV system all by myself.  Usually, I am that girl that calls her nerdy computer building Bubby to come and do something as simple as hooking up a new gaming system.  My Mom is the same way.  When she got a new TV recently, she called the cable guy to come hook it all up for her…and bless his heart he did.  I completely take after her in this way, so I kind of understand the difficulty she had with my large remote that works everything and is complicated in so many ways…like picking what source will be playing on my TV.  So our nerdiness is slightly lower than my Bubby or BIL, who build their own computers.  I just call one of them to fix mine.

My Mom was visiting me and we were all over at my house when the following incident occurred.  It was one that left us nerdy kids of hers laughing so hard and she sat there looking at us like we had three heads and eventually told us to shut it.  Mom really wanted to know what time some sort of show was on TV that night and was attempting to figure this out through the cable listing.  I have no idea what she was doing with my remote, short of throwing it through the TV, but all of a sudden she was practically phoning to E.T through my TV trying to do so.  My Bubby looked at her and asked her what she was doing and the following conversation occurred:

Bubby:  “Mom?  What in the world are you doing besides making us deaf by the volume of the TV?: (She had hit the volume button instead)

Mom:  “I am trying to find out when that show is on.  I don’t understand this remote at all.  I want to go forward in time.  How do I go forward in time?”

Bubby:  “Mom, you can’t go forward in time unless you have a Tardis” (For those non geeks out there…this is the Doctor Who space time travel machine)

Mom:  “Well, I don’t have a Tardis!  I have Direct TV!”

Pretty sure my Mom thought a Tardis was the name of my cable company, which got me, Bubby and Pocket GF laughing so hard tears were rolling down our faces.  Mom continued to mess with the remote, alternating between making us deaf and calling E.T. or The Doctor, himself, until Bubby took it away from her and found what she was looking for, without a Tardis.  She then looked at all of us, still laughing, mind you, and told us to shut it with a smile on her face.  Mom is obviously not a Whovian.  Good thing she puts up with her geeky nerdy kids.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did, however, discover that my Mom wants to go forward in time but without a Tardis.  I am Fat Girl Whovian geek with a non nerdy Mom who has Direct TV Running.  The experiment continues….

A Bittersweet Family Reunion, a Few Drinks and a New Stripper Name

My Auntie T, myself and my Aunt Betty at my Seester’s wedding. Amazing women! They inspired me to become a nurse

This last week, my family suffered another devastating blow when the matriarch of our family, Aunt Betty, suffered a massive stroke and passed away at the tender age of 68.  My Aunt Betty was a beautiful woman who became like a second mother and surrogate Grandma to most of her nieces and nephews, myself included.  She never married or had children of her own so we were all important to her as she was to us.  Aunt Betty was a nurse for over 40 years and between her and my Auntie T, they both inspired me to become a nurse.  She loved that I wrote and was always telling me to continue to do so because I brought much needed humor to her life.  Losing her was hard.  So, unfortunately, my Bubby and my Momma and I flew home to Iowa to have a bittersweet family reunion and say our final goodbyes to one of the women that I love very dearly.

Whenever my family gets together, for whatever reason, there are certain things that are bound to happen:  laughter, drinking, and inappropriateness.  For reals.  If you recall, this is a rowdy bunch of Irish Midwestern people and we know how to enjoy each other, even in times of sadness.  Aunt Betty would have loved it.  This gathering was no exception.  I can sum up my family and our humor in one moment.   At the viewing, my Auntie T and Uncle F were standing behind the memory table talking and I went up to ask a question to which my Uncle F replied “Can’t you see I am trying to molest your Aunt?”  Yup.  My inappropriate family in a nutshell.  Despite the reason for us coming together, we still managed to enjoy our time hanging out as a big family unit at the place we always gather…Aunt Betty’s house.  My Aunt lived in my Grandma’s old house (we lost my Grandma in 1989) and to say she used a lot of talcum powder was an understatement.  And by a lot I mean a TON.   In fact, there was a layer of it covering EVERYTHING in her room.  When my Auntie T and I were trying to find the title to her car, we created a haze in her room moving things around.  Such a haze, that my Wicked Step-mother and I had to leave before we both had an asthma attack.  It was quite comical.  I couldn’t tell if it was just covering my glasses or we were really looking through a haze of it until Uncle M came up and commented on how cloudy it was in her room.  Note to self:  ban the use of talcum powder in my house.

After emerging from the talcum haze, I went outside to sit with my cousins in the sweltering humidity to watch my hair frizz, the kids run around and drink a few beers.  One of my cousins quickly handed me a beer and his wife handed me another, making me look like the lush in the family (maybe I secretly am but shhhh…don’t tell about my box of wine) as these were not small beers.  No these were the giant beers and I laughed knowing I looked ridiculous but grateful for the drink on such a hot humid day.  A few minutes later, My Dad came outside to look for me and used his drill Sargent voice to FULL NAME call me.  I jumped and quickly handed my beer to Cousin M so that I would not get in trouble (even though I am pretty sure I am old enough to have a beer in front of my Dad).  Bubby actually jumped as well and whispered “You are in sooooo much troooouuuubbbble”.  Of course Cousin M then looked like a lush with two huge beers in his hands and said “I don’t wanna get in trouble..take this back” to which I quickly shook my head.  Of course, Dad was just looking for me for another reason and hadn’t even noticed the giant beer in my hand.  Whew.  There are some things you never outgrow and hearing my Dad’s drill Sargent voice call my full name will always make me jump.

Don’t bother me…I’m thirsty

While we were sitting around, some the kiddos were playing hide and seek and Cousin D decided it would be fun to go around the house and jump out at all of them and scare them.  A few minutes later, we all hear screams of little girls as they come running through the yard with Cousin D laughing hard.  One of the babies, who is two, was sitting on my lap playing with bubbles and when she heard the screams, she immediately said “Naughty Dave”, much to our amusement.  She then proceeded to make up a little song consisting of nothing but the words “Naughty Dave” that she sung over and over.  We all decided that Cousin D should immediately quit his managerial job and become a stripper since Baby E had come up with his name already…and a theme song to boot!  When Cousin D went to leave that night, Baby E even yelled “Bye Naughty Dave” at him. According to her Mommy, she even sang the Naughty Dave theme song as they drove home days later.   Pretty sure it will now be his name forever when we all get together.  Get used to it Naughty Dave.

So, once again, my family has laid to rest a beautiful soul.  A woman who inspired me to become a nurse, who came to every graduation I had when we lived states away, who sewed me a box of Barbie clothes when I was little, who gave the best hugs and who loved all of her nieces and nephews with all her heart and soul.  Thank you my Aunt B for always accepting me just the way I am and encouraging me to follow my dreams.  I will cherish your laugh, your relish for cooking, and most of all I will cherish the way you loved your family and made each of us feel so special.  Even as the tears are falling as I write these words, I know that you are at peace and I shall always and forever love you.  I miss you.  I shall use the words of one of the babies in the family, your sweet little man L who said at the viewing as he saw you lying there “Bye My B”  No words are better said.  Bye My B.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I have cried as I blogged today but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl emerging from a talcum powder haze with two huge beers, a cousin with a new stripper name and realizing that nobody got left at a McDonald’s this funeral Running.  The experiment continues…

A Birthing Tale…Part 2 and a Reveal

I regaled you all with the first part of my birth story of Luke the Kidney Boulder.  Trust me, that was not an experience I want to repeat.  EVER.  Surgery and I do not mix, even if they do come with Light Saber sound effects.  But what happens after you give birth to such a large kidney stone?  Well sit still, dear readers, and I shall finish my tale.

One of the advantages of working at a hospital where you are going to have surgery is that you know who you want to do your anesthesia.  I highly encourage any of you who are going to have surgery to ask nurses or people who have had surgery before to recommend an anesthesiologist for you.  I have trouble with the magic sleepy drugs and also my airway does not like to play well with the tube they like to put down you.  So, hearing I was going to have to be put under, I specifically requested the Sleepy Magic Doc that did my hysterectomy because I was hoping I would not have to have a plastic tube in my throat and not barf my guts out.  I wanted to rejoice when he showed up in pre-op and offered to do a spinal and just give me enough happy sleepy drugs to not care if I heard the laser sound effects and truly not remember them anyways.  And no tube.  Perfection.  When I was wheeled in to the recovery room, I could not feel anything from the waist down.  At.  All.  What a weird feeling to try to move my legs and they didn’t go anywhere.  I stared at them, like they were not my own, willing them to move.  “Ok left foot.  We are going to wiggle now.  Ready…go”  And using my best Jedi mind powers I tried to will that foot to move with no result.  Slowly, I was able to move them a bit but it felt very jerky and almost like my legs were being controlled by puppet strings.  So bizarre.  When BFF and the PACU nurse tried to get me up the first time, my legs would not hold their own weight and felt like jello legs.  Of course, in order to go home, which I desperately wanted to do, I had to be able to walk and pee.  Wait…you want me to pee after you shoved a Light Saber up my Urethra Franklin and destroyed the Death Star?  Huh.  Ok then.  Challenge accepted.

Since the Sleepy Magic Doc had done such a good job of giving me a spinal, it took 5 hours for it to wear off.  5 hours!  During that time I took that peeing challenge to heart, although my legs would not cooperate.  I wondered if I just wet myself if that would count.  But then sitting in a puddle of my own pee was not a fun thought.  First attempt to pass the challenge presented to me resulted in me sitting on a potty chair next to the bed because my legs were so wobbly I could not walk to the bathroom.  Yeah.  Like I was gonna be able to pee with an audience.  For serious.  Especially since I work in that facility and know half of the PACU nurses.  My bladder and Urethra Franklin both became very shy and the tiny amount of urine I eeked out did not count.  I willed my legs to work and somehow made it to the real potty where I completed the challenge and was able to go home.  I neer back down from a challenge I tell you.  Now, the other thing the Pee-Pee Doctor did was put a stent up my Urethra Franklin that had to stay in till I saw him in the office.  What is a stent you ask?  It is a tube placed there to help the Urethra Franklin heal with one end in my kidney and one end in my bladder.  The result:  I felt like I constantly had to pee for a week. Yup a week.  It was so uncomfortable.  That and the medication they gave me to stop the spasms turned my urine this nice bright fluorescent orange color that stained everything.  Don’t wear new unders when taking that medication or buy stock in pantiliners.  I did both.  Removing the stent was an experience I also never want to repeat.

To remove it, Pee-Pee Doc told me he was putting an instrument up my Urethra Franklin, fill my bladder full of water, grab the stent and pull it out.  Excuse me?  You wanna put what where?  Do what to who?  And I will be awake, just chilling while you are all down in my business shoving go knows what up into my Urethra Franklin?  Oh hell no.  Thank goodness I have the world’s best BFF who arranged to come with me and hold my hand.  The thought of anyone putting anything up my Uretha Franklin while I was awake actually put me in a state of anxiety for a week.  Yup, sure enough, there I was…my lady business all hanging out (thank goodness I had done Fat Girl gymnastics to shave the jungle) and Pee-Pee doctor reached for the scope to put up in there.  My toes curled, my eyes shut, BFF holding my hand and I hear him say he can’t get it into my bladder.  BFF quietly leans over and tells me to take a deep breath, which I did and magically he was able to grab the stent and pull it out, water and urine and all.  Guess I was so tense even my bladder would not cooperate.  Afterwards, I was sitting in a puddle of water and urine and the tech hands me a stack of 4×4 gauze to lean up with….really?  How about a towel?  Like some gauze was gonna even begin to be able to cleanup this Fat Girl’s flass.  But I was ever so grateful to have that stent out of my Urethra Franklin.  And so ends my kidney boulder saga.  One I hope never to repeat.

Today I also got some fun news from Boss Bean over at inknbeans.com  The cover for book number 2 is here!  So here you go fans:

 

Skittles for everyone!

How cool is that?  I am so excited.  Fat Girl Happy Dance of Joy commencing in 3…2…1  Oh and also do not forget I am doing a fan appreciation signed book giveaway on my Facebook page.  Here is the link as well:  http://tinyurl.com/lvsmjva  Get in on the fun and a chance to win!!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did try out my Jedi mind powers without much success but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who is quite done with things being put up in my Urethra Franklin and a cover for book 2 Running.  The experiment continues….

A Birthing Tale….Part 1

Where has The Fat Girl been you are wondering?  Holy canoli Batman…what a crazy month.  It started out all nice and sweet, just hanging with the BFF for her birthday (more about that another time) and finishing up writing the manuscript for Book #2 so I could meet my deadline with my publisher, when it took a horrible turn for the bad and just got worse.  Now, let’s just say I do not do anything small.  At all.  A Fat Girl lives her life large and in charge.  So when I started having horrid back pain right after BFF’s birthday-palooza that I could not handle, I knew something was desperately wrong.

Let’s be perfectly clear.  I have a VERY high threshold for pain.  I mean I did walk around on a torn meniscus for 6 months before I could not handle it anymore and had surgery.  I had been having back pain off and on since December but since I had sciatica, I just did what I normally did when it flared with stretching, massage and motrin.  This back pain was different and an entirely different monster in itself.  It started suddenly and nothing I did would relieve it.  I tried motrin, heat, stretches, ice…you name it I tried it.  When BFF came by later in the day, she immediately said she noticed a difference in me.  I could not sit still…not even on the all and powerful couch.  When I did, I was alternating between rocking back and forth and wiggling my feet.  I mostly paced around my living room asking BFF what I should do.  I told her I thought I was trying to pass a kidney stone, since obviously I had Googled AND looked up all my symptoms on Wikipedia so THAT must be it.  Either that or I was birthing a baby, which might have been an Easter miracle considering I have no baby box any more.  Birthing pains are what passing a kidney stone has been compared to by many people and BFF says I would have made a great woman in labor.  I literally would stop what I was doing and say to her “Hang on…there it is again.”  A few deep breaths later and a scrunch of my face and my conversation with her would continue.  Being the great patient that I am, I wouldn’t let her take me to the ED.  Instead, I gratefully took the pain pills she found for me that were left over from my surgery in Sept (yes…I am aware of how bad of a patient nurses are) and promptly fell asleep.

The next day, I went to see my doc.  She thought I was also trying to birth a kidney stone and ordered me to get a CT that had actually been ordered back in December when I had back pain.  I just didn’t think I needed it then because of course I had already diagnosed myself with the help of my friends Google and Wikipedia with sciatica.  (I also received a lecture from her about how horrible nurses are as patients) She then gave me the most painful shot of my life of antibiotics into my flass in case it was a kidney infection.  Seriously…that hurt worse than the back pain.  I also now feel so terrible for all the kiddos I have ever given that shot to in the hospital.  It felt like peanut butter on fire going into my flass.  Horrid I tell you.  A couple of days later, CT completed with labs drawn, back pain still in progress off and on and I called to get my results.  The NP then surprisingly says to me that all my results are VERY concerning and she was calling the Pee-Pee Doctor on call to see what needed to be done as I had a VERY large kidney stone.  Huh.  There I was, minding my own business, sitting on my couch in my jammies eating Skittles when she called me back and gave me my hospital room number to check into.  Huh…what? I am pretty sure I choked on a Skittle when she told me that the stone was so large that I needed to have surgery in the morning.  I even tried to reason with her that I could just show up in the morning when she told me I was a very sick Fat Girl and needed to report to the hospital pronto.  Say what?  I don’t feel sick.  I just have back spasms every now and then. I hadn’t even really taken anything except for Motrin in days.  I was so floored that I could not even think of what to do or say except to immediately call BFF who hightailed it over to my house to take me and hear what the Pee-Pee Doctor had to say.

Pee-Pee Doctor came by once I was checked into the hospital (nothing like being a patient in your own facility and having to call in sick from your patient room) to tell me that I indeed was trying to birth a kidney stone but that it was stuck and I would NEVER pass it on my own.  Why?  Because it was 6mm x 2cm big and normally your ureter is 3-4 mm in diameter.  Holy blocked Urethra Franklin Batman!  That’s no stone….that’s a boulder!  He told me it was so stuck that I had urine backed up into my kidney and was indeed a very sick Fat Girl.  He was even nice enough to draw me a picture on the sheet on my bed.  I really wanted to steal that sheet and keep it as a souvenir but they took it from me.

Pic of my Urethra Franklin with my kidney boulder that the Pee-Pee Doctor drew me. Although…it does sort of look like a pee-pee

Pee-Pee Doctor even explained the whole surgery to me and how they would put a laser up my Urethra Franklin and break up the boulder.  I felt like I was going to be in an episode of the Star Wars movie saga.  Like he was gonna take a LightSaber up in there, special effects and all, and destroy the Death Star that was in my Urethra Franklin.  I swear if I had heard the pew-pew of tiny lasers in the operating room I would have started laughing.  Then he told me he was going to put a tube in there to let it heal that would stay in for a bit after surgery.  That is a whole different experience that I shall get into in part two.  So, the next day, starving since nothing to eat since midnight and my surgery was in the afternoon, off I went to give birth to my kidney boulder, who I have now named Luke in honor of the Star Wars episode my surgery was certain to be. There might have been some pew-pew sound effects but I had happy drugs and didn’t care.  So there I shall leave it for now….I birthed a boulder and that is why you have not heard from me.

In celebration of me still getting my manuscript to my editor in time, in spite the birth of Luke the kidney boulder, I am doing a signed book giveaway on my Facebook page!  Go on over and enter…so many ways to win!  You can access my Facebook page right on the side over there….and then go to the Giveaway tab to find it!!  Simple and easy!

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I instead decided to star in my own episode of Star Wars but I didn’t die.  I am Fat Girl who gave birth to Luke the kidney boulder Running.  The experiment continues…..