After three busy days of activities, my Humira dose, salty Hawaiian pizza at Chuck E. Cheese (see photos), and a Cadillac Margarita with salt on the rim, I started to notice my casted arm and hand swelling. It's been more than four weeks since my surgery! So much swelling, that it was just about all I could think about. After a sleepless night with a tight and throbbing arm, Tuesday morning I made my way on yet another trip to the cast room in the orthopedic clinic. I had a bit of a confrontation with the clinic nurse. I think she thinks I like driving an hour each way, missing my bible study, missing my daughter's dance class, searching for parking in the busy parking lot and running in through pouring rain into the hospital! Believe me, I don't. I have had so many doctors appointments, I could really do without! Perhaps she thinks I am a one of those people who likes the attention. Anyhow, since I didn't have a "doctor's order" and my doctor wasn't in, she reported they couldn't remove the cast. After contemplating ways to remove the cast myself, or coerce/demand someone else to, I finally met with the technician, who cut "cracked" the cast and wrapped it with ace wrap so I could loosen the wrap when it swells. "My hero!" This cast thing has been an absolutely miserable experience. Oh, and no more salt for me!
Later that day I noticed A was arranging all the pillows on the couch and lining her baby dolls up, talking to them while doing so. I ask, "What are you doing? " "I'm making a doctor's appointment." she answers, matter-of-factly. See what I mean? I have been to too many appointments!
Yesterday was the first day my 3 yr old showed any sort of self-consciousness. We're talking about the girl who sings out loud in public places, does spins and leaps in malls and stores, and is quick to point out (aloud) strangers shortcomings. It was "U" share day at pre-school, and after racking my brain for something original to bring in, I came up with underwear. Next decision...whose? So I narrowed it down to her brother, since there could be no confusion or teasing about whether said child was wearing her underwear, or had taken them off in the car on the way to school in order to meet the requirement. So I put the underwear in a gallon size plastic bag with her name and "u" on the front, written in Sharpie. When we arrived at school, I realized the underwear had been misplaced somehow. A's response? "Oh, well, we forgot them at home." No, I insist, not at home, only in the car. So we trot back to the car to find the grey briefs I had carefully chosen. After finding the underwear and arriving at school, she starts shrieking "I want to leave the underwear!" What? Where? "In the car!" Why? Are you embarrassed? "Yes" she quietly nods.
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