Seventeen

Michael's 1st Bday


Today is my nephew’s 17th birthday. He’s got one more year of officially being a kid. It’s hard to image that he will soon be an adult. I still miss the little Bubba, but I also like the big Bubba. And yes, he’s big – not big as in around, because he’s a skinny teenager, but he’s tall – I think he’s up to 6’2″ now, or something like that. His voice is deep, he has to shave, and his feet are huge. What happened? Why do kids have to grow up like this?

He is growing up, though. He’s turning out to be a fine young man. He always takes time out to visit with me and Mister when we’re in town. And just three weeks ago, he called me so that I could say Happy Birthday to Messy J. She turned 11, but I don’t have a contact number for her. Bubba was at her party, and called me so I could talk to her. A kid his age who knows the importance of family is the kind of kid you know will be a great man.

Happy Birthday, Bubba. I love you and miss you.

He’s Not Old!

Mister keeps complaining that he’s old. He recently got bifocals, which cemented his belief that he’s getting much too old for his liking. Never mind that as much as he complains about needing bifocals, he’s been wearing them all the time because guess what? He can actually see things! Who would have thought?

I’ve been trying to convince Mister that he needs to get a Twitter and Facebook account. He sees no use for FB, and thinks Twitter is nothing but a bunch of gossip, but he’s realizing that there are quite a few chefs from Food Network that he likes, and other pop culture things that have twitter accounts, and he’s thinking that maybe he should check this stuff out. He’s not quite sure what he could say that people might find interesting, but I’m sure he’ll find something. So help me in convincing Mister that he’s not old, and will feel even younger if he gets himself on some social networking sites.

The Incredible Shrinking Man

I mentioned in a post that Mister recently had surgery. I didn’t mention any more than that, mostly because I wasn’t sure that Mister would be ok with me telling you all of the gory details. But we talked about it, and he doesn’t mind, so here goes.

Due to various factors – herniated discs in his back being a huge one – Mister’s weight over the last year or so has gone up. And up, and up, and up. It got to the point that getting out of the car and walking around it to pump gas was too much physical activity for him. When we flew to New England for our vacation last fall, we knew there was no way that Mister would be able to walk all the way from the car to security to the gate, so we asked for wheelchair assistance. Being first in line at security and first on the airplane was a nice trade-off, though. Anyway, I point this out because Mister was fat. Way fat. Having herniated discs put him in a Catch-22 situation. He couldn’t do any significant exercise because of them, so he packed on the pounds and the weight made his back feel worse. It sucked all around.

We knew some people who had weight loss surgery and had seen some success with it. A couple different friends here in town had the Lap-band done, and one of my imaginary internet friends had the RNY. Adam talked about his experience getting the Lap-Band. Those are basically the only two options available at the local weight loss surgeon’s office, as we found out when we went for an informational seminar. They did mention another procedure, the vertical sleeve gastrectomy, and it sounded like it would be the best choice for Mister, but the local surgeon said that it’s not available in this country. So, with a lack of any other options, we settled on the Lap-band.

Insurance companies are funny about weight loss surgery. If they cover it, they usually don’t contribute much (not as high a percentage of the costs as say, an emergency appendectomy). Which is kind of funny, because losing weight alleviates a lot of health problems. When they do cover it, they usually like you to go on a doctor-supervised diet for 3-6 months and do all sorts of other things that NO ONE else having any kind of surgery has to go through. Those things right there are enough to stop some people from doing this. Lucky for us, Mister’s parents offered to gift us the money so we didn’t have to do that.

Mister was also not too set on the Lap-band. He definitely did NOT want the RNY, because he really didn’t like the idea of someone rearranging his plumbing. Nor was he keen on the risks of malabsorption and dumping syndrome that are common with that procedure. As far as the Lap-band goes, we knew that it was easy to eat around it, and didn’t like the fact that it left this foreign object inside you for like, ever. Further research showed that if we were to ever move out of the area, we’d be hard pressed to find a surgeon who would do the fills required to keep the Lap-band doing its job. Also, I found out through another one of Adam’s posts that the reason one needs fills all the time is because the saline dissipates over time – it is not because your esophagus gets smaller as you get thinner, like the surgeon at the seminar we went to said and like I see a lot of people saying on various message boards. This makes it a lifelong maintenance item, in addition to the lifelong lifestyle changes that need to be made. It was too much. Again, fate stepped in and led us to a doctor that does the procedure Mister wanted.

One of Mister’s relatives in the SF Bay area had a vertical gastrectomy done at Laparoscopic Associates of San Francisco and highly recommended them. This worked out perfectly, since Mister has family in the area that we could stay with during the initial recovery before coming home. So, Mister got in touch with the doctor and after some consultations with the doctor, dietitian and such, the surgery was scheduled for December 16.

I initially did not want to go up to the hospital to sit and wait for him. I didn’t think I’d be very good at doing that without making myself and everyone else around me crazy, so I planned on being at work and going up that weekend to drive him home. At the last minute I freaked, called into work, and packed a bag so I could go up with him. When it came down to it, being there for him was more important to me than my own sanity. That and being with him as much as I could be calmed me more than not being there. So the day before the surgery, we drove up to San Francisco, met the doctor for the first time (and one last consult before the surgery), and drove back down to the south bay to see the in-laws. We got settled and arranged a wake up time so that we could be at the hospital for 6am. It wasn’t a very good night’s sleep, but I don’t think anyone sleeps well before something like that.

The next morning we all piled into the inlaw’s land yacht for the trip into San Francisco. We got to the hospital, checked in, and waited. When Mister got called back, I went with him. I wanted to stay with him until they kicked me out. I helped him get into his oh-so-stylish hospital gown and packed his clothes in the regulation hospital “patient property” bag. He joked with the nurse a bit as she got an IV started on him. Mister and I have very similar humor styles, so some of the jokes were in stereo, or so it seemed. Good spirits is always a good thing. The doctor came in to say hi and took off again. Then we walked back to the OR area. The surgical nurse hooked Mister up to the warmer. We weren’t sure what this meant, but they guy came at Mister really fast with a big hose and started fumbling around in the genital region. Turns out that the gown has two layers and has a vent area to hook the hose up to so warm air can be delivered. The vent on the gown just happens to be near the nether regions. Anyway, Mister met with the surgical nurse and the anesthesiologist – more questions, looking, and last minute checks. Then it was time go to. The doctor likes to have patients walk into the OR if they can to help reduce the chances of blood clots, so off Mister went, and I went back to the waiting area. Walking out of there, it was hard for me to not lose my shit, because if I did I knew that there was no way I’d be getting up off the floor anytime soon. So luckily I was able to let that feeling pass and got back to where the in-laws were waiting.

We were told that we could wait downstairs in the lobby, and I could check in at the desk for information. They gave me one of those flying saucer things they give you when you’re waiting for a table at a restaurant. The surgery was scheduled to take about 2 hours, so we ate breakfast at the cafe and browsed the gift shop a bit, then sat down to wait. Finally, just past 11am, my buzzer went off. I ran over to reception, where they told me that Mister was in recovery and that I’d be able to see him in about 2 hours. Yay! More waiting, but he was OK. About 20 minutes later the doctor came down. He gave me a paper with some post-op instructions, and a copy for our doctor here at home, and told me that the surgery went well but that Mister woke up from the anesthesia swinging and ready to fight. Mister’s never been under or had surgery before, but this definitely sounded like him. I was happy, and continued waiting anxiously to see him.

We ate lunch at the cafe again, then went to find Mister since I should be able to see him. After walking around and being led back and forth a bit, I finally found out the room he’d be in and was able to wait there. They kept him in recovery a little bit longer because his blood pressure started to rise, but pain meds took care of that and he was finally able to come down to his room. When they wheeled his bed into the room, Mister had a goofy smile on his face and was doing a modified version of the Royal Wave. Yep, he’s definitely going to be fine.

The recovery wasn’t as easy as Mister initially thought it would be. He thought that the pain would be no problem, but this was a bit more than he wanted. For laparoscopic procedures, they fill the belly area with gas, and it takes a while to dissipate – which is done through burping and farting. Plus, while the doctor was in there he fixed an umbilical hernia, which was the most painful of Mister’s incisions, so he wasn’t fully expecting that. But Mister got exponentially better with each passing day, and once we survived the awful California freeways, the only complaint that Mister had was drinking those blasted protein shakes all the time.

The diet is different now. Mister was on thin liquids for 2 weeks, and since he needs to make sure he gets enough protein, he was drinking those awful vitamin store protein shakes. After that was soft solids – things like cottage cheese, eggs, etc. – and more shakes to make sure he gets the protein in. The focus is protein, so that comes first, before any kind of carbs, which he maxes out on at 40g per day. He’s on solid food now, and needs to make sure not to eat too much at once. His stomach is now a thin tube instead of the giant pouch it was, so it’s 2-4oz at a time, no snacking, and chew thoroughly. It’s a big change, for sure.

So how’s he doing? Great! Mister is really doing awesome. He weighed in at 422 as he was walking into the OR. We didn’t have a scale at home that could weigh him, but the doctor recommended one that could (and looks just like a regular bathroom scale), so we ordered that. As of this writing, exactly 1 month after surgery, Mister is down to 368. He has more energy now – not enough to be running a marathon, but enough to help me out with some light housework. Also? This will sound very strange to you, since he has to go down to eating practically nothing, but he’s got a renewed interest in cooking. He said that since he can only eat so much and he needs to make every bite count, he wants to make sure that what he eats is as flavorful as possible. I’ll admit that flavor isn’t one of my strong points in cooking (Bland is Grand!), so I think we’re both happy with Mister cooking more.

That’s what’s been happening with us lately. It’s hard to have so much going on and not be able to write about it, but now you know. It’s already brought about a positive change for Mister, and I hope it will bring a lot more positive changes for us. Mister and I both want to be healthier, and this certainly puts him on a path in the right direction. If I’m going to be eating what he eats (but in normal stomach sized quantities) and making sure I don’t bring tempting foods into the house, then that will be good for me as well. I’m already down about 3lbs this month, so hopefully I’ll continue on that path too. Here’s to good health and my incredible shrinking husband!

Vacation Report

I should really try to post more often, but you know how it is when you get back from vacation… so much time spent catching up that it’s like you’re still on vacation from your day to day life! Ok, almost, but not really. Work’s been busy, it took me almost a week to catch up on all the posts in my reader, and there’s all the laundry and housekeeping that I’ve been thinking about but not actually doing. Where does the time go?

So, vacation.

Mister and I went to Massachusetts and New Hampshire to visit my family. We didn’t get as much sightseeing in this time, instead focusing on spending time with friends and family. The day we got in was my dad and stepmother’s 30th wedding anniversary, so we took them out to dinner at a nice Italian restaurant of their choosing. Delicious food, and I hope they enjoyed their celebration! We also met up with my friends Belching Biker Babe and Officer Friend (now Detective Friend!). Belching Biker Babe and I got to reminisce, and yes, old pictures came out. Hello, big hair! We also got a bit silly reciting some old George Carlin routines from the album Playin’ with Your Head, which I borrowed from my mom when I was like, 14, and never gave back because BBB and I wore it out memorizing it. Detective Friend met us for dinner in Newburyport, and we got to hear all about his promotion to detective, and about Baby #2, who is due in the spring. Amazing what happens when you move away from home!

We did spend quiet a bit of time driving around, since everything was so pretty due to the fall colors. Mister got to visit Maine for the first time evah when we drove into Kittery just for the sake of going to Maine. I stopped at one of the outlet stores in Kittery and bought a new Christmas ornament and some wild blueberry jam. Maine is known for blueberries, amongst other things, so I recommend anything made with Maine blueberries. Driving around is a much different experience in New England than it is here in Vegas. Here, you drive around town, on roads that are 3 lanes in each direction, or you get lost in master planned communities. Once you leave town, it’s at least 4 hours of barren desert until you get to the next town. In New England, there’s lots to see – pretty houses, interesting shops, lovely scenery, and nice winding roads. We drove Rt 1A up the NH coast, a scenic drive which Mister absolutely loved.

I wanted to spend some time with my Dad’s family, and the best way to do this was to have the family all gather at The House on the Hill. My dad, Gram, aunt and uncle all live within a half mile of each other, so it’s easy to get everyone together. We dined on wonderful homemade food (hard to get when you’re traveling) and got to visit with everyone. One of the biggest things I miss about being back there is gathering with The Family, so it was really nice to be with everyone.

I also got to spend time with my mom’s family. Uncle N Period and Uncle Caboose came up to visit, and Uncle Caboose made Swedish Meatballs! Yes, real Swedish Meatballs, using the recipe that my great-grandmother brought with her from Sweden. Mom also made a birthday cake for Mister since she somehow found out that he would have a birthday during our vacation. Again, it was really nice to visit with people I don’t get to see often enough.

Since it was Mister’s birthday, I stopped at Newbury Comics to browse and to find a birthday gift for Mister. I got him a retro New Wave Halloween CD, Just Can’t Get Enough: New Wave Halloween, The Misfits Box Set, and the book Weird New England, since I knew he’d like a book like that. He stayed up way too late reading it, so I guess he did like it.

Overall, it was a relaxing, refreshing vacation that wasn’t long enough. It was really great to visit with everyone, and we’re already planning our next trip back there. Maybe on the next trip we can do some more touristy stuff so I’ll really have something to write about.

Ten

Ten days ago, my oldest niece turned 10. I sent her a package with some presents in it, and a card that included my phone number. I was hoping she, or her father, would call so that I could wish her a happy birthday. That didn’t happen.

A week later I called my sister. She said that Messy J had received her present and said she was going to call me. I’m still waiting.

I used to be close to Messy J, but there’s a lot of mistakes made on the part of both her parents that keep me from being as close to her as I used to be. It all started when I announced I was moving to Vegas in 2003. Of course, my family was upset that I was leaving, but I was selling my condo and would have the money to establish myself independently. I planned a trip to come out and set things up in Vegas for my arrival a month later.

A week after my Vegas trip, my sister went on vacation to Florida to visit a friend who had moved down there. While she was there, she met a guy and decided that she would move down there to live with him. As soon as school was out a month later, she packed up her kids and moved in with a guy she met on vacation. This totally took the heat off me, since I was going about my move in a prudent manner, and everyone turned on my sister. No one thought that this was a good idea.

While I thrived in Vegas, my sister was arguing a lot with her guy. I went to visit her about 6 months after we both moved, and I only stayed a few days at her place before moving to a hotel because of the fighting and yelling. I hated leaving the kids like that, but my own sanity was at stake. We sort of made up before the end of my trip, and I left on decent terms.

Throughout 2004, things got worse for her. She argued a lot with everyone, withheld contact with the kids at whim, and broke up with the guy and moved into another place. That place didn’t last long, and I don’t know the details of where she was after that. I do remember, however, that Bubba and Messy J got put in foster care in February 2005 because my sister had gotten on the radar of family services, and after a number of “diluted” drug test results, she finally failed one. The arguing between her and everyone else got worse. I ended up being diagnosed with acid reflux, and I got myself into therapy and got on Paxil because I was having a lot of anxiety due to the turmoil.

During the summer of 2005, the kids were finally able to come home. Since Bubba doesn’t have any relationship with his father, he went to my dad’s house. Messy J ended up at her father’s house. I’m not sure that’s really the best place for her, since her father isn’t exactly an upstanding citizen and has his own issues with various substances, and has a temper. The biggest thing since she’s been there is that he changes phone numbers as often as most people change underwear, so I can’t contact her. At least they don’t move too often, so I can send mail.

I know Messy J has had a rough time of it. She’s got some emotional issues because of the what’s happened over the last five years, and is no longer the vivacious little girl I once knew. She has very sad eyes now and is very quiet. I miss the little girl she was – the one who was always laughing and smiling. I miss being able to talk to her and hug her and tell her I love her.

There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to think about her, because it just hurts so much that there’s nothing I can really do to help her. A part of me thinks that if I hadn’t moved to Vegas, my sister wouldn’t have decided to move. I feel like my moving set this all in motion. When questioned about her decision to take her kids and move 1500 miles away to live with a guy she just met, my sister said, “Well Kirsten’s moving, so I can too.” I try not to feel guilty about it all, because I know that my sister would have fucked up no matter what, but it’s hard.

Happy Birthday, Messy J. Aunty misses you more than you know.