Life's curves

I noticed them again this morning.  The scars on my upper chest.  I don’t think I’ve ever even mentioned these before.  Considering everything else I have been through, they are minor.  Let me explain why I have them  My first time in the hospital, back in September, they had me hooked up to a heart monitor before I went in to surgery.  There was an orderly, who I have no problem naming, Bijou, who was always in a hurry.  He couldn’t wait for the nurse to get the sticker things off of me so he “helped”  He ripped them off like a Band Aid and took my skin with it.  He did 2 of them before he decided to quit helping.  I scabbed and now have scars.  They are similar to if you were to have a sunburn and peel in the summer.  I know they will fade, eventually.  Today I thought this shirt could use a necklace but I am afraid to draw any more attention to the area.  In case you are wondering, I had one more run in with him when he came to take me down for another one of my surgeries.  At that time he proceeded to run the bed into everything; walls, doors, etc.  Epic Fail as orderly’s go.  If you happen to be at Sanford and he comes for you, be prepared to cringe.

 

I went to leave for work this morning.  I had this grand plan to stop and buy coffee on my way to the office.  I opened the door to the garage, hit the button for the overhead door and clicked on the auto start (it's currently below 0).  The lights on the car came on so I shut the door to the garage and finished getting ready.  When I went to get into my car, it wasn't running.  Keep in mind that I call this 16 year old car Gramps and that I have an appointment to have his suspension looked at this afternoon.  I call my hubby, whose line is busy.  I call 2 co-workers who live in my area but they are both already at work.  I call a cab.   Then my hubby calls me back and says he is close so he will park his semi (which is illegal on our street) and walk down.  He was sure he could fix it.  I cancelled the cab and waited for him.  He got there and, of course, what he needed to help me wasn't in the garage but most likely at the lake.  He tried a number of things but nothing seemed to do the trick.   He finally headed back off to his truck and I called another cab.  A full hour after I discovered the car wasn't running, I was in a cab with a driver who couldn't quite seem to keep the car in one lane and rode the center line most of the way across town.  Scared?  Yes!  And on top of that I had to reschedule Gramps's physical for another day.  He really needs to be looked at and I hate to put it off.

 

On a lighter note, my daughter Erin has a knack for story telling and I have been after her to start a blog.  She started one yesterday so I would get off her back.  Feel free to check her out!  www.notanadult.blogspot.com  She makes me laugh, I hope you get her humor too.

 

I have mentioned (at least I thought I did) getting a tattoo on my belly near my scars.  I don’t want to see my scars and be sad about what I went through and think about how awful it was and how horrid these scars are.  When I pass by a mirror in the morning as I get dressed I want to see them and the tattoo that reads “Celebrate Everything” and remember that I lived!  That I came close to losing the battle but I didn’t and that every little thing in life should be celebrated. 

 

OK, I guess that's enough for today.  Again, Celebrate Everything!!