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So we're a family of mishaps anyway, but the last few weeks have been particularly torturous. We're all in pain for various injuries and illnesses (one so serious I can't even talk about it yet, one due to a severe wipe-out on stupid ice in stupid GEORGIA, and one due to someone kicking a friend in the shin).
Clearly the latter of those was done by the teenager in the family. And it was done so hard and fast that...he actually BROKE his toe. When he sent me a text about it that day, asking me to take him, posthaste, to the doc-in-the-box, I sent him my regrets and a note that they can't do anything for broken toes, sadly, and he would have to take Advil and take it easy. Also advised against physical violence when horsing around with friends.
24 hours later, he finally comes to see us for more than 30 seconds at a time and I have him take his sock off and show me what he's done to his toe, cause he's still complaining about it, and we know if he still complains of pain a day later? It's f'real. I was horrified to see what appeared to be BONE poking up just under the skin, more shades of purple than I knew existed, and a bizarre, wide red line on the side of his toe. I immediately insisted that we go to the doctor (only after forcing George to review the messy scene, too), because THAT kind of yuck? Juuust might require an operation.
Several hours later, we're finally back home, Kiddo's toe, which is spectacularly broken, is still left to mend on its own, as they still can't do anything for it but manage the pain (though he said it would hurt for a minimum of three weeks, yet only gave him SIX pain pills. Nice. And even then, he SAID he would give him pain pills, but--as so often is the case with these jackasses, especially at Wellstar--he then "forgot" to write the prescription.
I'd just LOVE to know why so many doctors do this. There has to be a method to their madness...has to be some demeaning, sick joy they get out of this idiotic game, but whatever. I wasn't letting my child go home without something to help his pain. So, we're home, fed, settled. An angry note has been written to the "brass" at Walgreens about crappy service, which I won't even go INTO because it will make me angry all over again, and His toe, fractured to high heaven, is taped to its neighbor, which is not pleasant for him, apparently. I gave him an anti-inflammatory and a pain pill and set him up in his room with Wendy's sweet tea, his new tivo remote, and instructed him to stay still and rest.
'Bout an hour later, I called him on the phone (hey! I have not stopped in two weeks, AND I, too, am in agony, but am the least immobile of the three of us, so I'm takin' care o' my boys as best I can!) to see how he was feeling. I always worry about allergic reactions to medication, as well as the way he might react to it because, thankfully, he didn't inherit my body style, so he's a wee one, which means medication is much more likely to hit him faster and harder than most people. The conversation was very amusing and I'm sad I didn't think to record it. But here it is in text form. Pretend you can hear us:
Mom: "How ya doin sweetie?"
The Kiddo: "Syyooo hyyyappy!"
Mom: "Yeah? feelin' shiny?"
The Kiddo: "Haaaaa shiiiiiny."
Mom: "How's yer pain?"
The Kiddo: "Whaaaat pain?"
Mom: "Good. That's good. Glad to hear it. Okay sweetie, I'll let ya go. If you need anything, just give me a call, okay?"
The Kiddo: "Oh yeah? Really?"
Mom: "Sure, sweetie. Do you need somethin'?"
The Kiddo: "Needa helicopter.... OOOO! and NICKLES!!"
Mom: "Okay then." I put the phone to the side and said to George, "The Kiddo wants a helicopter? and NICKLES."
The Kiddo: "And a LAKE!"
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A few minutes ago I went down to fold some laundry and asked him if he needed anything. New ice pack? Something to drink? Anything? He was hilariously out of it, drunk-dialing his friends, and babbled nonstop to me for about 5 minutes straight and, at one point? Called me ESE.
I told George of this new nickname of mine, as well as my prediction that The Kiddo would be a full-fledged CRACK addict inside a wEEK now that he'd had a taste of Happy Fun Time.
God I hope that Air Force recruiter returns The Kiddo's call REALLY really soon!
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Gracie Arrived Somewhere Else Searching For...
Remember when Big Dog clothing was of good quality?
5 gum
allrecipes roux
allrecipes hot chocolate
atomic time
bactrim and itching skin
badly [WHY!? I don't even REMEMBER typing that!]
brett favre pronunciation
canoli
cholera
what kind of dog is scooby-doo?
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Someone Arrived Here Searching For...
what happened to american angst [hahaha. I can't decide if I'm flattered or depressed at this. To answer your questions: several things. But mostly it's due to work and a side project that was supposed to only last a few days, but that was more than six months ago and has now turned into a huge, more-than-full-time job, one that keeps hinting at being complete but hasn't quite gotten there yet. It breaks my heart, but I have been so busy and overloaded that I just couldn't bring myself to do this too. As anyone who works with me has heard (cause I've taken to announcing it rather frequently), I've been working almost every day from 8 in the morning...till TWO the following morning. And weekends. And taking care of a very sick husband. And a sick me. And now a hurt kiddo. In addition to a house, two dogs, two cats, a store, blah blah poor-Gracie-cakes, right? Hurrrrrl. Whatever. It's life. It happens. Anyway, sadly something has to give. I'd love to be able to write here every day, but...I've heard that it's not quite yet a perfect world.]
what does the term "scattered brain" mean? [sorta like kinda like irony? but like sorta kinda NOT?]
i poke my sister [and prisoners shall soon poke YOU]
reba mcintyre boob job?
celebritys crystal meth [non-celebrities uneducated?]
ingrid ballbuster
shipwheel [what. the. FUCK!?!?]
she's deceiving me i tried to heard them say lyrics
girls in nuts
don't put stuffed animals in your rear window
silk blouse nipples iron [heeeeyyy!! OUUUUUCH!!]
meaning behind "fuck you"
do girls pee out of their ass
snot humiliation
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