Amazed…

…at how anything with buttons,

can feel like a video game.

…at how good it feels to sleep—in the daytime.

…at the quality of care you can get from a sweet, tender daughter.

…at how incredible a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup can taste.

…at how soft really, really nice sheets feel on your skin.

…at how many pills you can take at one time and still not spontaneously combust.

…at the similarities between my cute, protective son–and a great, big bull dog.

…at how good it feels to have the pieces of routine come drifting back.

…at the sweetness of friends.

Thank you everyone for your thoughts and prayers and kind wishes. You’ve made “getting things back to normal” feel so much better.

I love you guys…

In the meantime…

I swear, I’m not dead. I’m using a scribe even now because I’m a bit wiped out. But I will be crawling back to the computer chair any second now because I miss you guys. Thanks for all your sweetness. Enjoy this cute thing while the Lortab kicks back in.

Don’t worry, it’s the Lortab talking.

Just got back from Mom’s house. She’s doing well, but is feeling pretty nauseated and sore. Jillian has her on a pretty tight schedule of meds, walking around, and eating. She’s a regular nurse, that one.

Overheard at Launi’s house this afternoon…

“Me and Cheetoes are NOT friends right now.”

“There’s just stuff flying at my face. Like just then. And now.”

“I feel like every time I drink water that it’s going to fall out all those holes.” (She had 4 scope holes for the surgery.)

“This is the longest time I’ve gone without makeup since I was 11.”

“I feel like a hag. Don’t be afraid of the snow white witch, baby!” (Lily and Beck were very cautious about being near her. They said hi, and wanted kisses, and then wouldn’t look at her anymore.)

“There’s like a magical guardian angel German shepherd in my eye. But it’s not weird or anything, he’s cute.”

She was trying really hard not to laugh, because it hurts. She was also trying really hard not to say anything that would make it to the blog. Um. Yeah. So she’d think of something, and then cover her mouth, and then start laughing, and then she’d moan and tell me why she was laughing, and well…

Thanks for your continued prayers and thoughts, we really appreciate it.

April

Recovery: Anderson Style

So, she’s home. This, of course is a good thing. Now begins the phase where (hopefully) she gets waited on hand-and-foot, people (me) bring her homemade chicken noodle soup–with super awesome homemade noodles, and we write down all the weird things she says while coming down off the morphine and lortab. Should be entertaining.

We’ve already had some pretty funny references to this trippy YouTube video (warning: it’s completely weird, but pretty strangely funny) that fits the situation rather well.

Jillian has the next few days off so she can get my mom up and walking around every hour or so. Apparently, when they do surgery by scope, they inflate you like a balloon with CO2. So, post-op, they want you to keep your circulation flowing to get the CO2 out of your system so it doesn’t settle anywhere odd and cause problems. Who knew? Also, the walking is important to avoid blood clots.

She’s in good spirits, smiling and cracking jokes until she falls asleep mid-sentence. We’re looking forward to having her back in good health.

But in the meantime, we’ve got the pen and paper out, and maybe a little video camera, just for fun.

April