I keep having this nagging in my head to call someone....a nagging pain that is centralized in my left jaw joint...now who to call for this? Oh gee...could it be...hot doctor?
I guess I feel funny about calling him that now...since I found out a little background on him...married, children, went to Iraq as a doctor during the summer..ran into him as I guess one of his kids goes to B's school. Yeah, he's a little humanized now. Hopefully that will take away the red flush I get when I go see him.
I *need * to call him, but honestly I guess I am afraid to call him.
The reason why you ask? Well, since the pain is back, with a vengeance, and he said he was okay with my range of motion in the opening of the mouth, and if it does click, that is usually okay...a lot of people's jaw joints pop. But once the pain is there, well, then there is an issue.
I did the jaw lavage the end of August..had about two weeks of healing pain then about a month of no pain whatsoever. Enough time for me to go back to him to say it felt great, enough time for him to write a report to my attorney that things were okay and then time for the pain to return.
I suppose he could do the lavage again, but usually the next step is something more invasive. Surgically opening the joint and manually placing the displaced joint back to the correct place it is supposed to rest. But the problem with this type of surgery is that you usually end up with worse pain than before due to the risk of further damaging things.
Let me tell you a word of wisdom, folks. Do NOT ever break your jaw. Don't even think of doing it. I cringe during every movie and tv show scene that depicts someone getting punched in the jaw. That has to break it I am sure. (not in the movies, of course) but that would be the end result I am sure of it.
Pain. Chronic pain. Long, suffering, I can't open my mouth wide enough to fit around this junior cheeseburger pain.
Just a little Waaaaaaah from me.
Okay, I'm done with that.
Now the searing question is... How in the HELL do people find enough time in their day to be all on top of a blog? Posting photos and html links? AND cook? And take care of their family? How, DAMMMIT, how?
I'm multi-tasking right now. Laptop, banking, watching Lost, doing laundry, putting clean sheets on beds during commercials, thinking about picking up the magazines in the family room, wondering how the hell I'm going to finish off the rest of the work week after losing one person (her last day today, boo!) and one on vacation and then training a new person come Monday.
I am also breaking a resolution by drinking a fine glass of Pinot Noir.
Kick it
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
The bottomless pit
The bottemless pit in our house is also lovingly know as B's stomach.
I swear to you, internet stalkers, if I have to buy any longer pajamas, jeans and shirts that will cover up one three-year old's budda belly, I may sigh a very big sigh.
She will eat dinner, and then say "I is hungry, I needs a snack" and she proceeds to eat an apple, a bowl of crackers, toast, applesauce and yogurt...and even then, she would probably shove more in if one would just provide it to her.
We also see a lot of baby-butt-crack in our house. I think this is a combination of the above-mentioned budda belly and the somewhat lower rise of children's pants. I've told this story to some...but we were in Target and she was crouching on the front end under the plastic part of the cart, lodging herself between the plastic and the metal---put your soda here---base of the cart...with her bottom sticking out towards the front of the cart...towards the oncoming traffic of others in Target. After I saw a glance and giggle towards that area, I speed up in front of the husband to check her out and she is totally butt-cracked out.
It was hilarious, it really was....totally gross, but somewhat sweet because is was a cute little blondie and not an overweight plumber (no offense! You know the stereotype) or worse yet, a thonged soul with a muffin top.
I would have giggled if I had seen it coming towards me too.
She keeps me laughing in many ways. Crying inside too, that is for sure.
This is the child that I have had to call poison control on since she decided to sample a sample pack of "barkeepers friend" Some toxic powdered cleanser.
I have had *her* dial 911 successfully and had to call them off after they called ME letting me know there was a call just placed from our number. (SIGH!)
She crawls on top of the refrigerator to get anything related to sugar. And has gotten so sneaky, that if she can't get it open with her teeth...then she is well prepared with a pair of scissors to open that sugar.
Believe me, I HIDE scissors non-stop and she can still find them! I don't know how, I don't know where half of them even come from, but I find them in her little hands far too often.
She used to pull the charger cord out of the baby monitor and touch it to her tounge. I had the husband check and see if he got himself a volt or two from it, and sure enough, he did. And she did this more than once!
She is a sneaky little three-year old. In fact, I sometimes forget she is only three due to the smartness level she demonstrates. Or at least she attempts to lead me away from the trouble she has gotten in to in the corner by the couch.
"What are you doing B?"
"Nopping!"
Which definitely means something. And something bad.
She has learned how to write the letter B and is getting the rest of her name down too, so we find the letter B on random items throughout the house.
I guess it is time to hide all writing utensils too.
I swear to you, internet stalkers, if I have to buy any longer pajamas, jeans and shirts that will cover up one three-year old's budda belly, I may sigh a very big sigh.
She will eat dinner, and then say "I is hungry, I needs a snack" and she proceeds to eat an apple, a bowl of crackers, toast, applesauce and yogurt...and even then, she would probably shove more in if one would just provide it to her.
We also see a lot of baby-butt-crack in our house. I think this is a combination of the above-mentioned budda belly and the somewhat lower rise of children's pants. I've told this story to some...but we were in Target and she was crouching on the front end under the plastic part of the cart, lodging herself between the plastic and the metal---put your soda here---base of the cart...with her bottom sticking out towards the front of the cart...towards the oncoming traffic of others in Target. After I saw a glance and giggle towards that area, I speed up in front of the husband to check her out and she is totally butt-cracked out.
It was hilarious, it really was....totally gross, but somewhat sweet because is was a cute little blondie and not an overweight plumber (no offense! You know the stereotype) or worse yet, a thonged soul with a muffin top.
I would have giggled if I had seen it coming towards me too.
She keeps me laughing in many ways. Crying inside too, that is for sure.
This is the child that I have had to call poison control on since she decided to sample a sample pack of "barkeepers friend" Some toxic powdered cleanser.
I have had *her* dial 911 successfully and had to call them off after they called ME letting me know there was a call just placed from our number. (SIGH!)
She crawls on top of the refrigerator to get anything related to sugar. And has gotten so sneaky, that if she can't get it open with her teeth...then she is well prepared with a pair of scissors to open that sugar.
Believe me, I HIDE scissors non-stop and she can still find them! I don't know how, I don't know where half of them even come from, but I find them in her little hands far too often.
She used to pull the charger cord out of the baby monitor and touch it to her tounge. I had the husband check and see if he got himself a volt or two from it, and sure enough, he did. And she did this more than once!
She is a sneaky little three-year old. In fact, I sometimes forget she is only three due to the smartness level she demonstrates. Or at least she attempts to lead me away from the trouble she has gotten in to in the corner by the couch.
"What are you doing B?"
"Nopping!"
Which definitely means something. And something bad.
She has learned how to write the letter B and is getting the rest of her name down too, so we find the letter B on random items throughout the house.
I guess it is time to hide all writing utensils too.
Friday, January 25, 2008
If I had just started the night there......
How do I love thee, couch? Let me count the ways.
I have now slept on the couch 6 days out of the last 7. It's getting to be quite the little comfort zone for me and my cough.
And notice how close in spelling couch and cough are. Coincidence? I'd like to say no.
I should have just started out on the couch last night. Instead, I took narcotic cough medicine (add that to my list, thank you doctor for prescribing it), a muscle relaxer...to help kick in the *sleeping* part of the medicine which had kept me awake, hallucinating, the night before, was comfy in my BED and almost asleep...but then I had a husband next to me, reading....awake...with his light on...until almost eleven....and I'm tired DAMMIT. I have clocked in 6 hours of sleep in the past 3 days and TIRED...and he keeps me UP and turns in to immediately fall into his "falling-asleep-jerks" And *I* start coughing....fitful coughing and pissed because he has messed up my notion of actually getting some sleep.
So I storm off with S's princess blanket to my friend, the couch. And he wants to know why I'm leaving.
Because you have hindered my sleep, that's why!
And I was an ornery beast most of the day. Not really to anyone at work, other than telling them to, point blank, "Shut up" and "You are a Slut" But that all goes with the territory, and it was all in fun. But ornery inside and annoyed and Raaawr!
I told my boss on the way out (late) that I was starting to feel neglected and we are 0 for 2 on our "bi-monthly meetings"
This is after I get called into big bosses office to go over a letter in response to some ridiculous complaint from one of our insureds. After they get our response and see what a total PITA this insured was, they had better send us a box of cookies for our pain and suffering and an apology.
Well, my orney ass is going to wrap this up and get on with what's for dinner and start this weekend.
Let's hope for some non-couch sleeping this weekend.
I have now slept on the couch 6 days out of the last 7. It's getting to be quite the little comfort zone for me and my cough.
And notice how close in spelling couch and cough are. Coincidence? I'd like to say no.
I should have just started out on the couch last night. Instead, I took narcotic cough medicine (add that to my list, thank you doctor for prescribing it), a muscle relaxer...to help kick in the *sleeping* part of the medicine which had kept me awake, hallucinating, the night before, was comfy in my BED and almost asleep...but then I had a husband next to me, reading....awake...with his light on...until almost eleven....and I'm tired DAMMIT. I have clocked in 6 hours of sleep in the past 3 days and TIRED...and he keeps me UP and turns in to immediately fall into his "falling-asleep-jerks" And *I* start coughing....fitful coughing and pissed because he has messed up my notion of actually getting some sleep.
So I storm off with S's princess blanket to my friend, the couch. And he wants to know why I'm leaving.
Because you have hindered my sleep, that's why!
And I was an ornery beast most of the day. Not really to anyone at work, other than telling them to, point blank, "Shut up" and "You are a Slut" But that all goes with the territory, and it was all in fun. But ornery inside and annoyed and Raaawr!
I told my boss on the way out (late) that I was starting to feel neglected and we are 0 for 2 on our "bi-monthly meetings"
This is after I get called into big bosses office to go over a letter in response to some ridiculous complaint from one of our insureds. After they get our response and see what a total PITA this insured was, they had better send us a box of cookies for our pain and suffering and an apology.
Well, my orney ass is going to wrap this up and get on with what's for dinner and start this weekend.
Let's hope for some non-couch sleeping this weekend.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Get your butt-rock on
Damn, my laptop is slow.
In other news: Whoever created Guitar Hero needs to be slapped.
Clearly, those of us with less than stellar-butt-rock knowledge have a disadvantage than those of us who have husbands who can name the band and name of the song on the radio within the first three notes made.
I played the only two songs I was familiar with last night. Anarchy in the UK--Sex Pistols...and Holiday in Cambodia--Dead Kennedys.
I felt good about it too.
I even did some pogo-ing with the guitar. Pogo-ing did not help me play the guitar any better.
In sickie news, I am noting the concoction in what it takes for me to get a somewhat decent nights sleep:
One warm glass of Airborne
One glass of wine
One extra-strength Mucinex
One dose of Antihistamine
One fourth of a muscle relaxer
Okay, it sounds a little too much and somewhat troublesome.
Here is my reasoning. (The beginning of dependancy?)
I can not take anything cough-suppressant-related due to my anti-anxiety medicine.
I can't wear my mouthguard to protect my poor teeth from the clenching..because it makes my tounge go in a place which, I guess, induces extra coughing. So, that is why the muscle relaxer is involved, so I can clench less and not wake up with my entire jaw line...top and bottom..feeling like it just went through hours of Jaw Olympics.
I must be such a pretty sight to my husband. (what a catch I am)
In other news: Whoever created Guitar Hero needs to be slapped.
Clearly, those of us with less than stellar-butt-rock knowledge have a disadvantage than those of us who have husbands who can name the band and name of the song on the radio within the first three notes made.
I played the only two songs I was familiar with last night. Anarchy in the UK--Sex Pistols...and Holiday in Cambodia--Dead Kennedys.
I felt good about it too.
I even did some pogo-ing with the guitar. Pogo-ing did not help me play the guitar any better.
In sickie news, I am noting the concoction in what it takes for me to get a somewhat decent nights sleep:
One warm glass of Airborne
One glass of wine
One extra-strength Mucinex
One dose of Antihistamine
One fourth of a muscle relaxer
Okay, it sounds a little too much and somewhat troublesome.
Here is my reasoning. (The beginning of dependancy?)
I can not take anything cough-suppressant-related due to my anti-anxiety medicine.
I can't wear my mouthguard to protect my poor teeth from the clenching..because it makes my tounge go in a place which, I guess, induces extra coughing. So, that is why the muscle relaxer is involved, so I can clench less and not wake up with my entire jaw line...top and bottom..feeling like it just went through hours of Jaw Olympics.
I must be such a pretty sight to my husband. (what a catch I am)
Monday, January 21, 2008
Not at all clever
I can hear the husband upstairs wrestling with a three-year old who has gotten herself into a lot of trouble today. I think she has a roll that she is clutching and spraying crumbs around with too.
I was with her in a dive of a Mexican food restaurant the other night, and she needed to go to the bathroom...so since I was in there already...I figured I'd take advantage of the situation and use it after her...and when I was sitting there, instead of her normal "What are you doing mommy? Are you going pooooo mommy?" loud-talking-for-all-to-hear....she decides that instead of talking (she must have known no one else was in there) she proceeded to lick the bathroom stall door.
Eeeeeeewwwwwwwww
Between the constant *tasting* of random, non-food, items and her thumb....she is determined to be sick until she can stop.
And it doesn't look like stopping any of those bad habits is anywhere near on the horizon.
Well, I am sick again. I came on here to check when I was last sick...and it was October, the time when the hamster thing happened...and I was going to try and be clever and link it on this entry, but I am not so clever, and I've got Safari open which doesn't let me use the control button anyway. So, screw that notion of trying to look like I know what I'm doing online.
I also stayed home from work today too. I've spent the past three nights coming down to sleep on a couch so I don't keep the rest of the family up with my eternal coughing.
I was with her in a dive of a Mexican food restaurant the other night, and she needed to go to the bathroom...so since I was in there already...I figured I'd take advantage of the situation and use it after her...and when I was sitting there, instead of her normal "What are you doing mommy? Are you going pooooo mommy?" loud-talking-for-all-to-hear....she decides that instead of talking (she must have known no one else was in there) she proceeded to lick the bathroom stall door.
Eeeeeeewwwwwwwww
Between the constant *tasting* of random, non-food, items and her thumb....she is determined to be sick until she can stop.
And it doesn't look like stopping any of those bad habits is anywhere near on the horizon.
Well, I am sick again. I came on here to check when I was last sick...and it was October, the time when the hamster thing happened...and I was going to try and be clever and link it on this entry, but I am not so clever, and I've got Safari open which doesn't let me use the control button anyway. So, screw that notion of trying to look like I know what I'm doing online.
I also stayed home from work today too. I've spent the past three nights coming down to sleep on a couch so I don't keep the rest of the family up with my eternal coughing.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
13 days later
If my New Years Resolution had been to not update my blog more often, then I would be doing a fabulous job.
Here it is, January 13th and I have already forgotten to send a birthday card to my nephew, eaten out three days of the past seven and have mocked my child when she whined.
So much for eating at home more often and praising instead of putting down people, ie: my children.
I had not made any resolutions to send out birthday cards on time. Phew.
I am determined to not use any credit cards and sock away large sums of cash all while not buying any big, compulsive items this year. This includes no bikes, no camping equipment, no new cars (if it can be at all avoided) no expensive bike accessories either. I guess I should mention this to the husband as he has bought all the new biking accessories in the past 6 months that any sweet boy needs. Including a new fork for the bike that he drove into the garage while it was still attached to the car rack that was still attached to my CAR. We try not to speak of this incident while we are sober.
It is Sunday night, and I am going to bed as I have somewhat sickling kidlets with coughs and snotty noses who need to get up a little early tomorrow to get bathed.
Oh yes, the husband and I are also trying to drink a little less too. Bwaaahaaaahaaaaaa.
Ahem. Drink less Gin.
This is during the week, so we can sit less and move our booties more to get rid of the few pounds that snuck up during the holidays. I received a new iPod shuffle (in red) so I can clip-er on and shake instead of lugging around the big-boy who goes to work with me.
So I danced around the house for a good 20 minutes and the husband and I played some mean games of tennis for about an hour this morning on the Wii and he kicked my ass.
I'm going to start putting labels on these posts and see how goofy they can get.
Biking. Gin. and Resolutions. Now that seems like something from a bad movie.
Here it is, January 13th and I have already forgotten to send a birthday card to my nephew, eaten out three days of the past seven and have mocked my child when she whined.
So much for eating at home more often and praising instead of putting down people, ie: my children.
I had not made any resolutions to send out birthday cards on time. Phew.
I am determined to not use any credit cards and sock away large sums of cash all while not buying any big, compulsive items this year. This includes no bikes, no camping equipment, no new cars (if it can be at all avoided) no expensive bike accessories either. I guess I should mention this to the husband as he has bought all the new biking accessories in the past 6 months that any sweet boy needs. Including a new fork for the bike that he drove into the garage while it was still attached to the car rack that was still attached to my CAR. We try not to speak of this incident while we are sober.
It is Sunday night, and I am going to bed as I have somewhat sickling kidlets with coughs and snotty noses who need to get up a little early tomorrow to get bathed.
Oh yes, the husband and I are also trying to drink a little less too. Bwaaahaaaahaaaaaa.
Ahem. Drink less Gin.
This is during the week, so we can sit less and move our booties more to get rid of the few pounds that snuck up during the holidays. I received a new iPod shuffle (in red) so I can clip-er on and shake instead of lugging around the big-boy who goes to work with me.
So I danced around the house for a good 20 minutes and the husband and I played some mean games of tennis for about an hour this morning on the Wii and he kicked my ass.
I'm going to start putting labels on these posts and see how goofy they can get.
Biking. Gin. and Resolutions. Now that seems like something from a bad movie.
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