I'm back...
Actually, I have been for about two hours. (Three now, after typing all this...)
After it was all said and done this morning, I think I went to bed around 7, 7:30. Got up around 2:00pm and...
*Deep breath*
They're....draining...his...tooooottthhh.... *Fanning self rapidly while eyelids flutter* (I swear...between this shit and what Antisocial is going through, I'm gonna frow up, I thwear...) God.
But, yes...they are doing...that. To him. Now. *Swallowing hard* I am remaining calm.
See? Ahem. Anyway...this is what's going on and this is what I'm doing. Well, typing is what I'm doing, but it's all a part of it. Believe me. Anything to keep my mind occupied. 'Cause see, if I don't, then I'm gonna take a little walk out into the woods, chew down a tree with my bare teeth (teeth again) and then freak...meaning cry my ass off. I sooo hate it when this shit happens to him. It's never anything little, either. He's had a swelling involving teeth before...he had an ear infection last summer that required multiple trips to the clinic and last winter (not THIS one...last year) he had to have hernia surgery.
I have a hard enough time with this 'fixable', spaced out stuff. I can't even begin to imagine trying to have to handle his riding bulls every friggin' week. Even if he lived, unlike Lane Frost, he could still bleed and get hurt. Crippled, even. Hearing about his wrecks, or even just dismounts from successful rides, has a worse effect on me than fingernails drug across a blackboard. I writhe in my seat (and SOUL!) hearing about the blood and the point of contact between him and the bulls hooves or horns. It kills me.
And, people (including me) thought I had a death wish?
Pffft.
Not like that, I didn't.
Not that I blame him. Believe me, death WAS better than what he was doin' when he wasn't trying to die strapped to a ton of pissed off steak. Aaaanyway...*another deeep breath*.....I hafta go remain calm (heh) while feeding the horse and other assorted 'busy work', so I won't have a stroke. I'll letcha's know what I find out, when I find it out.
Oh...and I already told Bill to expect him to be off tomorrow, too. I asked if he needed a Doctor's note, which Eric oughta be getting anyway, or was this (I made a 'bulging' motion at the side of my neck) enough? *Beep, bepp!!*
(Nextel radio...hang on a sec...) Okay, they've just started...AN I.V.!!!! and when that's done, they'll be coming home and I'mina go fall out someplace now...*shudder*
An I.V.??? Jeez, man. *Death-grip on arms of chair to help maintain equalibrium during ensuing headrush*
(This is MUCH better when chemically induced, lem'me tell ya...) Holy shit. That poor Baby. I can't even believe this shit. Why does shit always happen to him? He is such a sweet man. He does NOT deserve this...this painful kinda crap. Why can't it ever be a simple puke-fest or something? gawd.... Anyway, Bill said if he didn't feel good, of course he didn't hafta (or shouldn't is what he said) work, but his eyes were lookin' like he'd like to have the note, but didn't have the cajones to look me in the eye and say so.
Good.
I reminded George to get one anyway.
I'm weird that way. If he had said "Yes, please do", I'd have hated him for it. But, since he restrained himself and used (semi-) common sense, NOW I'll go on and make sure he does get it.
I'm not sure what to call that aspect of me, but I'm like that A LOT about things...especially things that relate to Eric.
If anybody has any theories about it, I'd loooove to hear 'em. Brutal hontesy is welcomed. Simple brutality is not. In related news, George and I decided to hell with going to the store. None of the above mentioned items are necessary enough to delay Eric's getting back here and making his 'nest', so, the kids can just have some more spagettsa..ya know? Second-day spaghetti is the best spaghetti, anyhoo. Plus, there's still cake and the cookies, so they'll be fine.
They gotta start getting ready to go to be home by 7:30, 8:00pm, so....
You know. Okay...I'm gonna go for now.
As always...
I shall return. Peace.
(And, a little for Eric, too, if I may request it of ya, God. Thanks.) Update @ 6:05p...I just finished out the living room. Now, whenever he does get here, he can get his shit, his remote and whatever else he wants and get all nestled into the big lounge chair and just veg.
I'm getting ready to go take care of Storm, shortly.
They're not quite done yet. Last word was: still waiting for the IV to finish AND...the xray to come back. Now, THAT can't be good.
Betcha the xray was easier, though. I hate that at the dentist's office. "Here. I want you to take this CREDIT CARD and JAM IT INTO YER ALREADY SORE TEETH AND GUMS, then stay that way, while I run screaming from the radiation, til I decide to mosey on back in here, sometime NEXTWEEK. Oh...and...don't gag! Cheerio!!"
Bastards. Additional update: Heaven help us all...JON just radio-ed me to see if I wanted him to get Eric anything at the store! And, I WAS NICE AGAIN!!! WOW!! (Who am I?) lol...
He's gonna get him an industrial sized can of chocolate pudding. (lmao...)
I realize that may sound a little twisted, but, first of all, we're thinking 'invalid food' and, second, at late as this morning, swelling notwithstanding, Eric was eating those cookies. The boy loves his chocolate. What can I say?
I already have fake mashed potatos here and I suppose we can go get him some 'cream of' soups, once we figure out which ones he wants, but this is...*gulp*...sweet of Jon to do. (I AM in a parallel universe, right? I must be. I just told John "Thank you" because he just told me he's getting Eric the ton-sized can of pudding AND jello....wow...lol.) Okay...so...the living room is ready, invalid food is being obtained and they could be on their way back, altho, I think George'll call and let me know that, too. He's been really cool about keeping me up with what's going on. I'm not sure if I wanna hear what the doctor said or not. I have this feeling it's gonna start with "It's a DAMNED good thing you didn't wait any longer to get here...." and get worse from there. This poor guy.
Such a sweetie to have such awful shit happen to him. (But...ya know what? In all honesty, yes, it really could be worse, eh, David? *grin* He knows what I'm talkin' about. This is 'fixable'-even if it was too friggin' close for comfort on getting started fixing it-. Ex-wife shit often isn't...at all. So...... ya know?) I'm outta here again.
I'll be back again, too.
New post, ext time, though. Peace.
Comments
1
It's not as bad as it sounds. I had an impacted wisdom tooth back in '85. Went to the dental surgeon, who took x-rays first, told me that ALL the wisoms had to come out, as they would become impacted, due to my jaw being so small. They wheeled me in, gave me a shot to knock me out and I woke up 15 minutes later in the room across the hall. The doc had drained the infection in my jaw and removed the other three wisdoms in that short time. It hurt for a few days, but I had Percodan, so it was all good. Plus I got to eat a lot of ice cream, too. Heh.
Posted by: Burnt Fuse at March 28, 2004 07:42 PM (RRrS8)
2
Best wishes to both of you. And all the kitties, doggies, horsies and so on and so forth. 
Posted by: Pixy Misa at March 28, 2004 09:26 PM (kOqZ6)
3
I managed to get the nail stabalized and cut back. It lifted more on one side than the other, so it really only hurts when i knock it just right. I bet it'll feel a lot better in a couple of days and I'll be able to start soaking it off.
I had an absessed tooth once...hurt like bitch til they fixed it. I wasn't that bad in the fixing...it was the infection that hurt.
Wishes Eric good luck!
I had an absessed tooth once...hurt like bitch til they fixed it. I wasn't that bad in the fixing...it was the infection that hurt.
Wishes Eric good luck!
Posted by: ASB at March 29, 2004 01:00 AM (gfSJx)
Posted by: David Strain at March 29, 2004 06:00 PM (tpFkL)
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