Disclaimer: This will likely be another whiny and maybe even gross blog post. Sorry.
You ever have one of those days that can best be described by that strange in between a groan and a grunt noise? I woke up this morning still feeling like somebody had a belt cinched around my chest, and groggy from the overdose of cold meds I took last night so I could get to sleep. I took a long shower that involved Tarzan-like beating of my chest in an effort to dislodge the phlegm coating my alveoli (brought back great memories of post-heart-surgery physical therapy - if only I had those rubber suction cup beating things they gave me). I take the time to have some eggs for breakfast (it was that or lentils - the only foods I have in the house) and still get to school plenty early enough to make the copies I need for today's classes. I grab my books and head down to the teacher's room and find the copier's broken. No copies = new lesson plans. Then I do my morning internet check (e-mail, blogs, news.bbc.co.uk, and of course ESPN.com) and find that Texas has just scored a touchdown to go up 41-38 on USC with something absurd like 19 seconds to play. Then I have to wait approximately 15 minutes before they refreshed their site with news that Texas did in fact hold on to win (I was so close to calling you to find out, Dad). You can imagine my state as I walked into class this morning. Of course, nothing can cheer you up like hearing a happy bouncy 14 year-old respond to your good morning with "You sound like frog death." Priceless.
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"Humility, that low, sweet root, From which all heavenly virtues shoot" - Thomas More
2 comments:
That last line is hilarious...I will remember that for the next time I have a frog in my throat! Um, question...when did you have open heart surgery and why didn't I know this???? I am a cardiac nurse now, you know. Happy New Year by the way.
I'm not sure it exactly qualifies as open heart, but I had a coarctation repair back when I was four. I don't remember a lot, but certain things are vividly etched in my mind: having blood drawn a few weeks before the surgery, getting ice cream in the hospital after the surgery, hating physical therapy (the chest beating things, and blowing in the tube to make the little balls go up - just thinking about it makes my ribs hurt) and, of course, the brutal removal by my father of the tape they put over the site of the surgery. I was then and still am a lousy patient - really whiny - so the whole experience sucked (except for the ice cream).
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