For Those of You Not on Facebook...

Here's a couple choice photos of moi from last Saturday night. Go, Octomom! I won a ribbon and a Starbucks gift card for "most original." I think it was the cooler of frozen embryos (chocolate covered ice cream treats) that really propelled me to the win. Or maybe it was the introductory phrase, "Hi, I'm Octomom. As you can see" (gesturing toward crotchal area) "I've got babies coming out the wazoo." And yes, that's a test tube I used for a wine glass.

Ah, Halloween. What a nice distraction from heart valves and surgical procedures!

In Case I Decide on a Pig Valve...

...I'm taking applications for donors...here are two that I received Saturday night.

Moo? Oink? Click?

Them's my choices, folks.

Okay, I lied about the pig. That one wasn't offered. And the preponderance of guilt lies with the clicker.

Click click click.

And while it's clicking away, let me just run and get my protime numbers tested for all that Coumadin I'll have to take for the rest of my life.

Not an appealing option.

Speaking of unappealing options, how about that traditional surgery whereby the doc rips my sternum down the middle?

Yep, that's the recommendation.

Methinks it's time to entertain serious alternatives. I mean, they exist. Why can't I have them??

A Mutant In the Family

That's what I feel like today. I mean, think about it. I'm the FIRST Bruskrud EVER to come out of an angiogram with a report of NO BLOCKED ARTERIES.

Yeah, I'm still fanning myself.

Don't get me wrong--I'm still headed for heart surgery, but with only one item on the menu. AND (keeping ALL fingers crossed) there's a chance I'll be able to have a less invasive technique--y'know, one that doesn't include ripping my sternum in half.

Sigh. BONUS.

Anyway, so I broke my cherry yesterday, hospitalwise. My first "johnnie," my first, admission bracelet, and yes...my first bedpan. Guess it all had to happen sooner or later, huh?

Mostly I was BORED having to lie in bed for 5 hours. (Thanks, balloon boy, for providing the entertainment!) So, naturally, I took the opportunity to snap a pic.

This is what a woman with clear arteries looks like!

Who's In Charge?

Facing surgery and its concomitant hospital stay brings home the indisputable fact that I lack a bunch of familial branches to the tree. Namely, something called a husband. Or even a significant other. Let's not even mention the absence of children or (gulp)--since I'm chronologically old enough--grandchildren.

Oh, I've got parents, but geez. I'm currently taking care of them.

And there's my sister-in-law, but she's had enough experience with antiseptic-smelling waiting rooms to last a life time.

Hence, I'm kinda winging it. Here a friend, there a friend, everywhere a friend, friend. Ha.

I mean, doesn't someone have to be in charge of me once I enter those double doors?

And what about when I get out? Thursday is just the angiogram--an outpatient procedure--and I've had to make lists and schedules as though I were taking off on a three-week cruise.

Let the fun begin....

Huge Sigh....

My cousin (second? third? two or three times removed??) posted this on Facebook yesterday. It's where she friggin' LIVES.

Update

Just as I thought this whole mess might turn out to be a figment of my imagination, I got the call from Ashley at my doctor's office. Report in at 5:30a.m. next Thursday, she says. (Eeek. Let's all appreciate the ungodliness of that hour for a moment, shall we?) Anyway, yada yada. Angio at 7:30. Don't eat, don't drink, have someone available to drive you home and....

DON'T DRIVE FOR FIVE FRIGGIN DAYS.

Uh, hello? What the hell?

Turns out they put some sorta plug in your groin (there's a pretty thought) after the procedure, and the motion of stepping on and off between the brake and the gas might disturb the little sucker.

Okay, this news means I'm gonna have to do some fine-tuning of, y'know, my LIFE.

A Tip For Us Seniors

People? When you hit the big 5-0 (and maybe even the lesser known 4-0), I've got four words for ya:

BUY THE TRIP INSURANCE.

Let's recap, shall we?

April - Puerto Vallarta for five days. Swine flu swept in and took my $1200 with it. (Let the record show, I wouldn't have allowed the little cooties to screw up my vacation, but since the bars were closed...)

June - Portland, Oregon. Canceled weekend visit with relatives when Daddy went into the hospital. Monetary loss: about $150. I think I have another $150 toward a trip sometime in the next year.

July - Washington, D.C. for the annual writer's conference I attend. Had to cancel when...well...all that crap hit the fan. Monetary loss: $450 for the conference and then (get this) I had to pay $150 to recoup the frequent flyer miles I'd used for the $5 airline ticket.

September - The Corque Hotel in Santa Ynez. Canceled after the deadline when I discovered my ticker could explode at any moment. $150.

More advice? Don't book any future trips with me.

Writing progress....

In writing news, hey--did I ever get around to posting about the contest I won? Hm. Maybe not. Guess I could scroll down my site to check, but I'm too lazy. Anyway, back before life skidded to halt, flipped over, and rolled a couple times (figuratively speaking, of course), Jessica Faust and Kim Leonetti at Bookends Literary, held a pitch contest on their twitter pages. Perfect right? Pitch your idea in the miserably few number of characters Twitter allows? So I did. I pitched my current WIP...and I won a 3-chapter critique from Jessica! How utterly cool is that?

Then the shit hit the fan, and I became (cough) otherwise engaged. Shot off an email to Ms. Faust, begging for time and she graciously gave me until October first. Next thing I knew, three months had flown by so I sent in the three chapters this past Wednesday night.

I have to say, hitting "send" nearly made me feel like I was back in the writing game.