Someday when I win the lottery, I will open a rehabilitation center called “The Crippled Cottage”. I realize that’s prolly anything BUT politically correct, but I like to think that adding “Cottage” to something makes it socially acceptable. Until I win, I will call the Fluff household The Crippled Cottage.
It all started last Thursday. Mr. Fluff was complaining of pain in his belly area. We thought it was just gas at first since that seemed most logical. The pain continued for 4 days so Mr. Fluff finally went to the ER Sunday morning. While he was gone, I cleaned and organized. At about 1pm, he called to say “I’m in room 213”. I immediately freaked out and called him. Turns out his appendix was super pissed off at him and would be removed later that afternoon. I got a babysitter for Fluffette and headed to the hospital. He finally went in to surgery at 4pm and was able to come home around 9pm. He’s not allowed to pickup Fluffette for two weeks. (super sad smiley)
Tuesday I went to a hand/wrist Dr to see what’s going on with my wrists. To get you caught up, the pain started towards the end of my pregnancy. I had put on 60 pounds so I was quite girth-y. Since I slept on my side, there was A LOT of weight being put on my poor whittle arms. After Fluffette was born, I would spend all of her late night feedings with iphone in hand scrolling through Pinterest. Thus, the pain worsened.
I went to the Dr and she put me on a steroid pack that seemed to alleviate the pain for the time being.
That pain is back with a vengeance now. I wake up every.single.night between 2 and 4 am with excruciating pain in my right hand. It’s numb and tingly and all around awesome. It usually takes about an hour for the pain to go away enough for me to go back to sleep. I choose to think this pain is the reason that I can’t get up early for a workout before Fluffette gets up. When making my coffee and Fluffette’s bottle in the morning, I’m unable to grip so it takes me a minute to get the top off her bottle. This is not ok. Arthritis runs in my family so, of course, I self-diagnosed myself on WebMD. When I went to the Dr Tuesday, I let them know up front what my diagnosis was.
They ignored me.
Apparently, if you don’t have a degree in medicine, you can’t diagnose arthritis. Weird.
Anyways, after a series of tests it was determined that I needed an injection in my left wrist and would wear a sexy brace for two weeks. If that doesn’t work, I will need a short surgery. I will tell you that wearing a brace on your hand while taking care of your husband, child and all the household duties is pretty much the best thing ever. Every time I turn around the Velcro is stuck on something. It’s the worst with changing out laundry. I thoroughly enjoy peeling crusty socks and undies off my arm brace.
Then on to the right wrist. Even though it’s CLEARLY arthritis, I will go back in next week to get some fancy schmancy test where they put acupuncture-ish needles in my arm and watch how the something flows through the something. I didn’t really pay attention…you know….because I have A.D.D….also self diagnosed on WebMD.
|Yes, Yes I will take one of your damn Dum Dum suckers after you just physically and emotionally violated my wrist.|
I’m sure the first thing that comes to your mind is, ‘Wow, too bad she’s married because that would make an UH-MAZING profile picture on Cougarlife.com”. And you are completely right. Sorry fellas, all this sexy *does pelvic thrust while running hands over torso* belongs to Mr. Fluff.
Well, it’s not very easy typing with a brace the size of China on my arm so I’ll cut it short this week. Here are some pictures of Fluffette. She’s turned in to quite the handful and in case you were wondering, six is the number of pieces of dog food she can successfully fit in to her mouth. Lord, please give me patience.
|Bailey is looking for a new family. She pretty much hates her life.|
|Who said the next generation wouldn't appreciate VHS movies. #don'taskwhyistillownvhs #hadthesesincethe90s|
|"oh, did you have these in any particular order?"|