I saw Leann today. Except for that whole serious abdominal surgery, the tubing to various machines, and the morphine induced in-and-out blinky eyes, she looked pretty good. She let me get her ice and water, and we talked about things and laughed as much as she could tolerate.

I felt so sad because she misses her kids, but she said that she knows that if they come to see her they're going to want to hug her. I said, "Have them hug your knee like there's no tomorrow, until you can tolerate the real thing." She smiled and pouted,"But I want the *real* thing." If only, we'd have had a Coke commercial crew there to film, I tell ya, we'd be rich as sultans.

She was bummed I didn't bring Genny, but I was nervous about doing it without knowing what I was taking her into, so I had Genny draw her a picture that says, "Get well soon" and put some pretty flowers on it to bring tomorrow. I'm also packing tape, so we can put stuff up on her closet. Genny and I talked about that she can't hug Leann yet because she has a big owie on her tummy and has to heal, so she has to blow kisses. I also told her that Leann asked for her to draw some pictures for her, which she was very excited about and immediately headed to her art box and started rummaging about for crayons and paper.

Leann said last night that she was sensitive to smells, so I didn't want to bring flowers to her, yet. I brought her a cute stuffed bunny holding a baby bunny in its arms. She's got another week to go, though she was up walking around and stuff, according to the nurse. I guess the epidural was making her itchy, so I let the nurse know on my way out, so they could relieve the discomfort. Poor thing!

She chewed ice and gargled water the whole time I was there. Part of the problem is that she's on the top floor, and it was hotter than blue blazes up there, so she had to have a fan to keep cool, but I'm sure that was also contributing to the dryness thing. She confided in me that she occasionally chomped and swallowed some of the ice. We giggled a lot about that they won't let her eat or drink anything until she farts. I teased,"Well, you better let it rip, then!" She held her tummy and giggled. She said,"You know, Wendy, by the time I get through this, you're going to know more about me than you ever wanted to know." I said, "It's okay. Mike and I are earth signs and thus, have a very earthy sense of humor." She smiled.

Ooers, and she showed me her scar. Geesh, it looked like one of those emergency c-section scars -- like about from her sternum to just below her c-section scar. I said,"Well, you've lost enough weight to wear a bikini, but you're probably going to want to wear a one-piece to cover that for a year." She smiled,"After having kids, I'll be wearing that one-piece for several years."

I thought getting to the roof of the parking garage where the breeze was blowing and the temps were a relatively balmy 50 something degrees was a welcome vacation. I wished I could bottle up some of that nice wet nearly-spring air and bring it to her. I drove home with the windows cracked, just to smell the air. You can still feel winter, but spring seems so awfully close on a sunny late winter day.

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I finally dropped off last night about 5AM -- I watched the moon set. My blessed beautiful doctor called me in some ambien today to get used to this whole stupid mask that doesn't work anyway thing. Basically, I'm going to try the new mask (hopefully it gets here tomorrow!), if that doesn't work, then I go to the new pressure with the old mask. If that doesn't work, I get another sleep study. The nurse teased me that I would be thrilled about that. I said, I'd just be thrilled to get a good night's sleep ANYWHERE.

I'm getting to be a sleep ho. A little shuteye here and there in the day -- sometimes just resting my eyes for 10 minutes is deliriously beautiful, a nap, coffee -- anything. I'm scared to drive because I'm so hideously wiped out. I avoid driving the kids anywhere unless I've slept. It's humiliating in some ways to seem like an adult and feel so inept.

My husband is a saint -- doing the best he can, but I'm scared that one of these days, I just won't wake up at all.

I'm having trouble sleeping -- mostly because I worry about not waking up well. I've woken up the past two mornings at 11AM feeling like a truck ran over me. This morning at 1130, I answered the door for the federal express lady in my flannel nighty. It's just not pretty.

I was kind of bummed because my new kitchen light got here and it had a black mark on it. The chilis are lined in gold and glazed on the unglazed terracotta and they send you a matching light switch cover, which I did install, thanksoverymuchforasking. Apparently, the gold paint without glaze looks black, so the artist thinks they might have oopsed with a paint brush. I was so sad to have to repackage it and put it back in the box. That light BELONGS in my kitchen.

___

There's a hoot owl right outside the window in the elm tree hooting to another one in the distance, which I can just hear. There's something like 3 owls around our neighborhood and if I wasn't wearing nuffin but a flannel nightgown, I'd go outside to listen to them call to each other by the light of the moon, but now, I'm actually getting sleepy, so the motivation is slipping away with consciousness.

Nighty, night.

Leann's surgery was yesterday and I worried about her all day.

I took Sarah shopping. Her birthday is coming, so it seemed appropriate. I conned her into letting me buy her a few things and those few things meant so much to her. It's cool to be able to do that for friends.

Leann called me this morning. She can't drink anything, so her voice was raspy. She sounded like she was in pain and on a lot of drugs.

They gave her a hysterectomy because of the ovarian cancer. She's got a colostomy bag -- to her dismay. They tried to remove the fluid from her lung area. They said she only gets 4 weeks to recover and then they start chemo. That infamous "they," huh?

I felt rather powerless, but said I'd be there to do anything she needed. She said she didn't really want guests today, so I said I'll visit tomorrow without Genny. Apparently, she's hooked up to a lot of machines, and I don't think I'd like Genny to see that and wig out.

I told her that we were all praying for her and had mentioned her in dinner prayer on Saturday night.

__

In other news, I've got bronchitis. Some people get a monkey on their back, but I get a gorilla who sits on my chest (and farts!). At least, I am not on prednisone! I'm counting my blessings for that!

I'm sleeping somewhat better. Not tons better, but better. I figure that's nice progress. I had a great day yesterday except for the feeling like crud thing. I could have had a massage every 2 hours, a facial, and a dip in a hot tub, I think I'd still have felt crappy. I just was tired and worn and needed my blankie.

Just shaddup. My son admitted to having a blankie, so I can, too.

I dropped Russell off at school and went in to talk to the teacher. I got his missing assignments and I broke down. The teachers were under the impression that I was riding his butt at home. I'm not, but he wants to please me, so he puts a lot of pressure on himself.

I trying to find ways to just give him air. Last night, when he was in bed and Charles called, I said yes, he could stay the night tonight. When I brought him home from school, I pulled him off grounding which was to end on Monday, so he could play gameboy games with Charles and Stevie at the overnight.

After I dropped the boy off at school, I went shopping with Leann. We went to toys r us and picked out a couple of gameboy games for her son's birthday. While I was there, I bought a bunch of clothes for the kids because they had SLIM jeans on SALE. They also had some really darned cute clothes from Valentine's Day -- a denim jumper and skirt for Genny.

After that, we went to Chili's and had lunch. The chips, white people salsa, and queso were good and filled me up, a long time before my 45 minute hamburger and salad got there. We had a great time talking and catching up.

After lunch, we went to a supermarket and browsed the birthday cake book. We found the much coveted Spiderman cake and I explained that we needed a birthday cake because it was an emergency to which the bakery agreed. She laughed. She said,"Whenever I need something, I should take you!"

I hope she does.

I dropped her off at the hospital to get her fluids drained from her abdomen. (Her husband met her there and drove her home to sleep afterwards.)

--

Mike got off work early because of the holiday weekend and we came home cleaned up quickly and he picked up Genny while I showered for the first time all day. Then I ran to the school and picked up Russell and Leann's two kids and granddaughter. Russ tried on his clothes (because TRU is right next to CEC, so if he didn't like them I could take them back) and then was rushed off to Charles' house.

We fed Gen and the three kids milk and cookies, let them watch TV, which is a treat for them, then took them to the infamous furry arms of Chuck E. Cheese, where they gorged on pizza, played video games, danced with Chucky (you know -- the doll?), ate birthday cake, and got tired.

The adults hung at the table and we all talked bravely about Leann's cancer, her upcoming chemotherapy, and less bravely about her prospects. We won't know anything until after the surgery on Monday. I offered any help they needed, especially during chemotherapy when I know she'll get tired and may not be up to watching kids and getting them through their homework.

She looked lousy -- gray and tired throughout.

I feel so inadequate. I hope I'm the friend she deserves.

The biggest bummer was that Leann called and her cancer is back. She's going in for some serious surgery on Monday. Tomorrow, she's got a procedure and I'm taking the kids for her. We're going to go shopping in the morning together for the youngest's birthday party tomorrow night. I'll drive all the kids to Chuck E. Cheese's and meet her there to give her some time in the afternoon to loll about and recover from what amounts to a very unpleasant amnio.

I'm just sad. If there's anyone around who's darned near a saint, it's Leann. I've been praying for her health, so my hope is that this surgery is the first step of only one or two to her recovery. With two kids under 10, I'm hoping that God doesn't have any other plans for her.
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I talked to the pulmonologist's office today and they said I can use a full face mask for the apnea. I have one, but it leaks air a lot and it means I have to tighten it up so much to not leak that I wake up with a big red ring around my face that kind of lingers. They said they'd talk to the doctor and then call me about a new mask. I am just plain exhausted. Meals, laundry, errands, phone calls -- they call get made in REM sleep, I'm pretty sure because I feel like I'm in this extended dream.

I had all these big plans for making a quiche because I have about 4 dozen eggs in the garage that are a little too old to sell, but not too old to use. I even called my mom and got the oil pastry recipe from her to make a crust. I found a nut torte recipe that used something like 6 eggs, which I thought would be spifftacular. However, I didn't have fresh orange peel and couldn't bring myself to use the very old dried stuff on my spice rack. (Who the heck uses orange peel on a regular basis?) Tomorrow, I'll buy an orange or two for the peels to make a nut torte.

And then I just hit a wall, asked Russell to keep an eye on Genny for a half hour til Dad got home because I needed to lay down. And while I know it's stupid and it's not something I can help, I still feel like a bad mommy if I do that. It's like reliving the summer again of falling asleep in my chair at 2PM in front of the cartoon channel with the kids.

Thank goodness for the big crockpot full of beans and meat for tacos from last night. Leftovers are the last haven left to an exhausted mommy and her family, I tell you what.

Well, I went to the high school.

Wow, the issues I have with it, are nearly unending.
It's 7-12th grades, for example. They have times where the grades do mix. Walking through there, I could totally see Russell getting jostled and hitting the floor. Also, the schedule is crazy. It's not like college -- MWF or TTH classes, but a few classes here and there with no rhyme or reason involved. Bizarre at best.

(/sarcasm beging)
Hey, let's give a crazy schedule to a kid who already has organization problems. That's a good idea. (/sarcasm end) I can just see someone with a candid camera watching these kids the first month and seeing just how messed up they get.

The school suggested a half day schedule with me homeschooling otherwise. The problem is while that addresses the organization problems, it does nothing to address his developmental issues.

Thus, in frustration and desperation, I called my advisor at the university and she said that I should look into this one charter school. So I did. The principal is going to come out and observe Russell and see if they can "handle" him at their school. I said fine and let his teacher know. They also said they were willing to give him an accelerated math curriculum. When I mentioned that to Russell, he was all over going to this school -- whether or not he repeated 6th grade. He didn't care as long as he got the faster math instruction.

I still feel overwhelmed. I need to get my butt together and get my incompletes turned over into the A's I am capable of. *sigh*

At least, I got a pretty good night's sleep last night.

I know -- two posts in one day? What *is* the world coming to?

It really sucks and I haven't quite had words for all of it, thus, I've stewed and said little.

I'm sick again.

First, my apnea machine isn't working very well. I'm breathing against it, thus, rendering it ineffective and I'm back to feeling wiped out again. I've been like this for a month or two. Using a chin strap helps, but often ends up wadded up on the floor. Mind you, I don't do this consciously, I just find it on the floor in the morning and sigh. I don't know if this means I should just stick a clothespin on my nose and a mouth mask over my mouth, but the thought has obviously crossed my mind. I've woken up several times recently to hearing a horrible gurgling noise -- which is the sound things make when I'm breathing against the mask.

Second, my latest pap smear was deemed not precancerous, but abnormal. My impression from my doctor was that she didn't want to worry me, but that it means that the next pap may be abnormal again and require surgery similar to last year. My mom's historical account of her gynecological adventures in her 40's was disheartening at best. Her lack of tact sometimes is astounding in its depth.

Third, I am on hormones and while my husband is truly enjoying the libidinous side effects, I'm on them because the doctor thinks my cycle may be skewed. The hope is that if I take said hormones, my system will "reboot" for lack of a better word and my cycles will come back like they were because this every three freakin' weeks for my period truly sucks butt.

Fourth, wow am I depressed about my lack of health. While the doctors say that my diabetes is in good control -- my hba1c right after Christmas was 6.1 (normal is 4-6), and my metabolism is speeding right along due to the jumpstart of thyroid (I am on a 2400 calorie food plan), and I'm losing weight, I am truly depressed. I have to say that I am really feeling my mortality and it scares the shit out of me. If I wasn't so damned tired and oxygen deprived, I'd be exercising and losing lots more weight. If I don't lose weight, I get to keep the apnea. If I can't address the apnea, I'm tired. Catch 22. Catch 22.

Fifth, I am trying to iron out what I will do with Russell for next year. He's in a critical transition year -- going from 6th to 7th and he's barely getting through 6th. He said,"Oh, you can help me, Mom." To which I replied,"Russell, it's not my job to kick your butt through school." I'd like to go to grad school and stuff, but I think I'm going to have to homeschool him partially next year for him to survive it, which essentially puts my grad school on the back burner for a very long time. I'm going tomorrow to talk to the school about how we can help him and what we have to do. I'm torn between going fully special ed -- giving him allowances, option to retest, etc. -- and just holding him back because he's one of the youngest kids in his class and is so immature compared to many of his classmates and one more year to grow up in would serve him well, in my opinion.

Sixth, Genny is 4. She's likely going to be reading before Kindergarten which will mean she'll be bored as hell if I send her to the local kindergarten. It'll also mean that I have to duke it out with the school to get her the advanced academics she's capable of. Talk about opposite ends of the IEP. She's at LaDawn's getting homeschooled because her previous daycare wasn't working out for her. We tried her in Kindergarten and while she could totally handle the academics, she could not handle the social stuff. Wednesday night, we go to Parents' night at a local Montessori school.

I feel massively overwhelmed at the problems and underwhelmed at my capacity to handle them at the moment, although, I do seem to be able to handle the increased libido, and so does Mike.

Little steps.

Our family celebrated Valentine's Day on Saturday -- mostly because I knew my husband had spent a lot of money on something and I'm an impatient little weirdo. Goirls, the man gave me $300 pearl earrings! I gave him much coveted rechargable CB's. He charged them, played silly cb games in the livingroom, and was obviously thrilled to death. I gave the kids each little remembrances and chocolate-filled hearts. It took me a while to get past being stunned over receiving expensive jewelry.

I've never had anything given to me like those earrings. I told Mike that they made me feel like a princess and that I haven't felt like that since I had my prom. My mom made me a beautiful dress, my hair was done up beautifully, and I was wearing a single pearl necklace that my mother had passed down to me. Saturday night, I felt like that again and at 41 years of age, that was a pretty wow thing.

Happy Valentine's Day!

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Yesterday, we had a nice breakfast and I guzzled coffee like a fiend. The guys did dishes, and then Mike and I sat in the kitchen playing Dungeons and Dragons in our chonies and jammies with Russell. Genny decided finally to come out and sit at a corner of the table and draw pictures with us, but I can safely say, I did little to clean the house, except to rotate laundry.

It was kind of interesting to see how Russell lacked strategy and perceived strategy. His character was all of three feet high and his idea was "rock 'em, sock 'em!" despite the fact that two of our party were not fighters -- his character included. I was very carefully trying to show him strategy -- my character was also not one of the fighters and I did little fighting, but I did do a great deal of reducing the strength of stuff we were fighting, blinding stuff we were fighting, talking to stuff we were fighting, etc., and surrounding and ambushing stuff we were fighting, in order to play, and he was furious that I wasn't trying to kick everything's butt.

I'm such a woman. And he's not. Mothers teach your babies!

Dearest Husband,

You were, of course, joking to expect me to use an 8 foot tangled up spiral phone cord to reach the 15 feet across the room, right?

Is there another phone cord of greater length in that magic cord box of yours or should you be sent shopping?

Laughing hesitantly,
Your Wife

I'm tired, so writing an in-depth blow-by-blow entry of my trip to La-la land is not gonna happen tonight.

Suffice it to say, I had fun, blew way too much money, and missed my husband and son more than anything.

I'll write more soon, but I have some catching up to do.