Going back to see the surgeon.

At least that is what I promised P yesterday. There is a reason why my previous surgeries have been on my mind lately. Almost two weeks ago I discovered something that gave us reason to worry. We were in bed and I coughed, and that simple action made me realize that there was something wrong. When P is asleep I let him be, I allow him to get his rest. I was so stunned that I woke him to ask for his opinion. P reached for me half asleep and touched, and then he was fully awake.

If you awake someone in the middle of the night to ask for help, it follows that you want said help. But since I am a freak, I envisioned things being different. I wanted P to validate what I saw and felt, then I wanted him to go back to sleep. Instead, P started palpating, asking me to breathe, cough, and move, while all I wanted was to bury my head under the pillow and make things go away.

Because we do not have enough going on now, we noticed that the problem has worsen over the past few days. P is very upset with me for not making an appointment sooner. Why the heck make an appointment, look what happened when I took his advice and went to Urgent Care. I lost a foot of my colon and had a plastic bag attached to my torso for 6 months. And don't get me started on what my torso looks like, it is hideous. I was so proud about not inheriting my bio mother's propensity for stretch marks, I made it through a pregnancy without a single one. And I was really big during the last month of pregnancy. Now my front torso looks like a tree that has been carved by every hooligan that has sat under it. With my luck I will end up needing surgery. Knowing myself, talking me into it is going to prove difficult. Happy Thanksgiving and a freaking very Merry Christmas to us.

P finally received a copy of Grandpa's Durable POA and Medical Directive. Grandpa wanted P to fly over to discuss something face to face. He never said what he wanted to talk about, just that he needed P to fly over a weekend to talk. With this new development there is no way P is going to be away from SS, except for work. We can't afford to have something happen to me and leave SS without a caretaker. Another one of those harsh realities we have to face.

Word of caution, P is not the person to give a durable POA to, the dude can be callous at times. He has been trying to beat me over the head with the idea of surgery. When I told him I had no desire whatsoever to have yet another scar on that mess that is my torso, that I had no desire to have him and SS use my scars to play Tic Tac Toe, he gently pointed out that it would most likely be done by using my already conveniently huge first incision area. My husband can be a ray of sunshine at times. I am reconsidering the whole marriage thing, because as long as we have the piece of paper the dude gets to pull the plug on me. Not sure I like his decision making skills.

Needless to say I am not in a jolly, holiday mood. Shopping had not even cross my mind until yesterday. P bought one of JJ's gifts Online, and I got two Leapster games (for SS) Online at an incredible savings. While I was browsing I saw two items that were perfect for Baby H and after clicking twice I was very proud to be able to cross one person from the list.

P and I have decided not to go hog wild with SS's gifts. For one, this is the year that she finally gets a toy P bought for her 5 years ago, and that thing is huge. I so regretted showing it to him at Costco. We were just walking around browsing, I pointed at it, and when I turned around P was gone. He returned with a cart and happily placed the albatross in it. Initially I though SS would be six years old before she could use it, but as it turns out our daughter has developed an obsession that this gift will perfectly feed.

The second reason to go easy on the gifts is the amount of crap our daughter has. We just do not have the space for more stuff. I have been purging toys that SS has outgrown developmentally and placing them in the garage. I have taken a lot, and it has hardly made a dent. We already gave up our dining room space for SS's beloved train table, we do not have more space to cede. We are going to focus on books, puzzles and board games. Small is the way to go.

The toys should be in a box on their way to Goodwill or the local shelter. They are in very good condition, which surprised us because SS is brutal with her toys. But P and I are having a difference of opinion as to whether the toys will have a new owner in our home. I'm a realist, since I rather fall face down on my own vomit than endure a pregnancy, the only way for us to have another child is through adoption. Oh, and the fact that if I were to get pregnant, it would be in the news due to my advanced age. But P is not ready to let go of the idea of adoption. I have no idea how he intends to come up with the funds. So the toys sit in the garage waiting for an owner that will never come.

SS waiting for the snow that never arrived:



During one of our morning stops: