Friday, June 11, 2010

Monday, Monday . . .

Has this week flown by or what? It has for me, for sure, as I have slept a great deal of it. Monday we slept in 'til about 9, I believe. An uneventful, day if there ever was one. As Jason made his way home from work I made my way as fast as I could go to my dark, quiet bedroom. Hello, Sleepytown! And I was out before I even took my medicine.

Tuesday, thankfully, was also uneventful. And unvocal. Is that a word? Suffice it to say, I was losing my voice and my sweet darling angels were beginning to take advantage. Turds! I'll fix you! One sad, miserable desperate call to Jason later and he was on his way to the rescue. I had asked him to come get them and take them to his parents, or my mom's, or anywhere but here as I was no longer a useful tool in maintaining their safety.

To explain, usually when my David and Goliath are at odds I am able to threaten them. And no, usually Goliath is not the instigator, BUT if not closely supervised I can guarantee with every ounce of my being that he will be the finisher. He's a bad mammy jamma! Have we covered that already? Hold on a sec -- I think Notre Dame is calling to recruit. Seriously though, he could hurt Abel. And we are working on this.

I'm just at a loss right now as he could quite possibly take me out should he really want to. Shhhhh! Don't tell him! I was twice as big as my mean little baby sister growing up too, but I never hurt her on purpose. Maybe I broke her finger once at a slumber party of hers, but it was an accident. Honestly! Most of the time she would come full boar at me and I would fall to the floor in laughter with hopes of simply protecting myself from her fury. I'm sure it was a sight to behold. Nonethless, back to my point . . .

Without my verbal warning system I had nothing to rely on besides constantly physically pulling them off of each other. This became tiring - quick! When I'd have their attention and try to explain their transgressions, laughter would ensue. Turds! A couple of times, I was brought to laughter myself. Flashbacks of Amelia's fury intermingled with Mickey Mouse's voice begging for mercy. Anyways, when I couldn't shake the sinus headache I called for reinforcements. He came and got them before noon.

Shortly thereafter I became as heavily medicated as I felt comfortable with and turned in. For a few hours, perhaps? Hey, let's just skip to Wednesday shall we? Might as well, 'cause I did! Better yet, let's skip to Thursday 'cause most of the middle of the week remains a groggy, snot-soaked blur. First thing I truly remember upon the boys' return is Abe wanting to know whether or not I could yell again. Is that all I do? How sad!

Trash day was weird. I was up "bright-eyed and bushy tailed," as used to be the saying, at 5:30 that beautiful Thursday morning. And Jason, apparently not coherent enuff to check his Blackberry for the time, was right behind me down the stairs. Morning routine plays out sans the little men. Hadn't they come home last night? Long story short, the dog is walked, the wife medicated, and the trash out before Jason's shower and he leaves for the office with 10 minutes to spare before the hour. 10 minutes 'til 7, that is, and he isn't even due in 'til 8.

Silly boy. I think he needs a raise and a vacation! Come to find out he'd had no idea what time it was 'til he got to his office to find it like a ghost town. Worked well though 'cause he got alot of uninterrupted work done and me and Gooch enjoyed our morning awaiting the boys' wake from peaceful slumber. Maybe I should've napped. I knew their tornado like rampage towards the living room would wake me and the neighbors should they still be in Sleepytown.

But as quick as the thought had crossed my mind, it quickly flew away with the wind this storm was brewin'. I was sure there was an army tank making it's way down the steps to the first floor. Who would round the corner first? Would it be David or Goliath? And would all their limbs be intact? Asa was first. Abel second. And no body was bloody. This day was gonna be a good one.

And in fact it had been. I learned the good doctor on the east coast that had been shut down was currently in Italy studying with the master. And even cooler news? I learned this neat little fact after I had sent said doctor a personal email regarding my failed liberation attempt. I got all goose-pimply upon discovering this. Would he be sipping tea with the big boss man when my e-mail arrived? Would Zamboni himself read my message? Would they talk about my case being not unlike the bazillion others that would be told they don't have CCSVI? Will one say to the other, "Let's send for her and work on her together hear in beautiful Italy."? And the other respond, "Yes. Let's do that and to thank her we should lavish her with gifts and chocolates and money and . . . " You get the picture, right? No harm in a girl dreamin' the dream.

Other good news on Thursday was The Hubbard Foundation receiving an official IRB approval. This means basically that only a terrorist attack or natural disaster can shut them down from scanning patients for CCSVI. This is a huge step in the right direction. Thank you, Devin and family. You guys rock! I may just be out to California to see you real soon. Unless of course my east coast doc and the Italian Stallion don't call me first. Hehehehe.

No way will Friday be able to compare. Guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out. More tomorrow, promise. Sleep well. I know I'm gonna!

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