HalfAsstic

HalfAssticalisms

Posted on September 1, 2010 by Krissa

Hi, gang! How’s it hangin’? We’re all good here in HalfAssticland. I am preparing for a visit to Mither and Pop’s house here in the next couple of days. Mither told me the last time I was there that I was expected back soon to complete the ginormous kitchen redo we began when last I visited her.

I am going back on Friday and taking EXTRA slave labor with me. Connie, has foolishly sweetly made her services available and I may be a tiny bit slow in some areas, (mathematically), but I know when to take advantage of a unwitting victim.

She offered to help. I screamed yes and got someone to notarize a statement of agreement right there on the spot.

(Having a notary on retainer is one extremely useful tip when attempting to take advantage of good friends.)

So there’s no backing out now and we are off to die in the evil clutches of a maniacal kitchen makeover mad woman.

A.K.A. Mither.

I have before pictures of Mither’s kitchen to share, but am going to wait until we are through and I can do side by side comparisons. In the mean time, I have other pictures of questionable quality to regale you with.

Craig Ferguson attempting to break my lamp with his telekinetic powers .

Ok, I was bored and it was late as evidenced by the shot of my TV with the Late, late night talk show on it. My point? Yes, I’m getting there! You people are pushy today…

That lamp in the picture, (the giant floating sphere beside Craig’s head), is not on his desk. It’s in my living room. Confused yet?

It’s a reflection and anytime I am sitting in my favorite chair and one of the kids is reading or doing homework on the couch with the lamp on, that’s what it looks like to me. It’s annoying and I keep considering writing in to his show to complain… I just can’t think how I’d state my complaint…

Target and Starbucks makes for a perfect day.

Next up here we have proof positive that Starbucks really DOES love me. Nothing rolls better than a Target shopping cart and the only thing that can top that is one with the nifty little cup holders you can borrow from the in-store Starbucks to clip on the sides and hold your coffee away from your purses. Kessa and I are all over this whole phenomenon.

HUUUUUGE banana spider living on Mither's front porch.

He’s busy munching on a grasshopper one of the grandkids tossed into his web. He was really cool to watch and I wonder if he’s still there. I’ll let you know on Friday when we go.

Mither and Pop's fish pond

Rather self-explanatory, don’t you think?

The tank

The tank at Mith and Pop’s is BADLY in need of a good rainfall. It’s getting all scummy.

Bathroom lav

Scorpion I found in the bathroom lavatory and smushed with a jar of petroleum jelly I was removing my eye makeup with.

On the wall in my room

This guy was on the wall inside the door of my room, about two feet down from the light switch. This was caught right before I murdered it with my flip flop.

Oops. Did I say “caught”? No, darling. Not in your wildest dreams. Taken, I meant TAKEN. As in the photo was taken.

Advertisement for pest control company

I received this in the mail the other day and was a tad… disturbed. I mean, obviously the gigantic roach has been photoshopped onto the child’s forehead. Still… How very disgusting and horrid that anyone, yes, even in this economy, would swing so low with the scare tactics.

I had to snicker though… “Please share this with mothers only”. No father anywhere could possibly react properly, I guess.

Just to see what happened I left it on the wet bar, a.k.a. catch all area where everyone dumps their purses and leaves and picks up notes to others, etc. These people won’t throw away my mail so I knew it would stay. For days and days I kept turning it photo side up and the next time I saw it, it was turned over, face down. Finally Keelan snatched it up and demanded, “What the heck is up with this!? It’s gross, it creeps me out, and I want to throw it away!”

I started laughing and so she just did.

Sooooo... what is it?

This is a test. Look closely at the photo above. NO! Never mind! That’s exactly what I don’t want you to do! How ’bout just glance at it and try to imagine doing it WITHOUT MY YOUR GLASSES.

OK, what is it? What do you do with it? THIS IS NOT A TRICK QUESTION. (ok, maybe a little.)

Now, I will put on my glasses and show you what it REALLY says.

What the????

Do you see the teeny tiny little “with”, before the words Fabric Softener? Do you also see that NO WHERE on the front of the bottle does it say DETERGENT? OK, that’s not true. It actually does say it in equally teeny tiny words over on the right, but my gawd! It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out what the heck you’re using when you start pouring laundry ingredients and mixed drinks!

I thought I’d never get all the soap out of the fabric softener dispenser.

I really need to just get some contact lens.

OH! Don’t forget to drop in on this post and enter my contest where you could win fabulous cash and prizes!

Whatever. It’s some good shit.

Till next time! Don’t let a perfectly good HalfAssticalism go by with out documenting it!

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Yes, my header is lame… but this could benefit you!

Posted on August 28, 2010 by Krissa

Remember waaaaay back when I was having all sorts of problems with my website having nasty pop ups announcing that you now have herpes for reading me? Remember that?

Sure you do. You’re just in denial. But don’t worry about it cause I am here to remind you!

Good times!

Anyway, right after my blog caught an STD and I thought it was fixed, but before it was actually fixed, (and I went on to shed tears and pull out hair and converse with my brother, Cam, a.k.a. Pooter Guru, and he worked on it for ages and then turned it over to his buddy Shawn who fixed it! Cause he’s a freakin’ genius!) Anyway, yeah… after that, but before that? I posted about a contest in which I was searching for a story for my new/temporary header, since my old, personalized, swank one had gone the way of the mastodons.

I felt terrible when I realized that the virus was still there after I posted about the contest and readership fell off a great deal, due to the fact that no one wanted to touch my syphilitic site with a ten foot pole.

I can’t blame them either. I didn’t post a new post for a long time. Meanwhile it was really, really getting fixed.

However there were a few steadfast readers that wished to take their chances with a sure and certain instant death and enter my bloggy contest. After all, the prizes and shiz were really… well, they weren’t really all THAT, but then I have some readers of questionable taste.

HI! LOVE YOU GUYS!

Anyway, the plague struck my blog and then it was fixed and then Henrietta was in the process of dying and then she did die and that whole episode of life was a vast desert of nothing but missing time. I feel like I don’t even remember any of it, now. Like a bad dream.

Well, that’s how the contest got derailed. But now it’s back on!

Here is a pic of the booty.

Contest Booty

Now, just gaze at my header and dream up a really good story for the scene. I mean at first glance it appears to be a man walking down a rustic lane with sheep grazing peacefully in the pasture next to him. But… where is he going? Where has he been? Who did he see? Did they argue? Was it a huge fight?! Is there a dead body somewhere? Are those sheep vaccinated!?

Just run with it.

I will decide the winner and ship all this crapola, (I’m pretty sure that’s a Messican word.), right to your doorstep for you to open just like on a birthday and “Oooo” and “Aaaaah” over. You will be awed by the love, care and colored tissue paper my very own hands have packed it with.

I may even spray my favorite scent on the whole shebang.

PLUS, as I indicated in the previous posts here and here and here and here and here, (OK, not really but I’m trying to make it sound like I’ve been up to this for a good while.), you can use the contest as blog fodder and all the thousands of people who read your site will then click on your link over to me!

Am I am maniacal genius or WHAT? I will post all links to your, (my faithful readers- both of you) sites and all the millions of people who troll through faithfully and read every word I have ever written will link back to you as well!

I really should just run the damn world.

Here are the links to the blogs that have already entered! Go and read them! Jean over at Working Momma 247 and Red Hamster over at In the Wheel! Really some good stuff!

Now. Go and read the Official Rules and Regulations as set forth by the gaming committee.

Posted in CONTEST | 10 Comments

Did I ever tell you about the time I almost killed John… Literally?

Posted on August 24, 2010 by Krissa

Last October, when John was first diagnosed with congestive heart failure and also pronounced a newly diagnosed diabetic, we were managing all kinds of shit you can’t even imagine. Nothing was just “cut and dried”, simple. So many problems and so many issues. Feet and legs swelling, blood sugar levels, trouble breathing, coughing, constant running nose, sleep apnea, amazingly severe stomach aches, etc.

It was very touch and go for a good while there and finally it looked as if he was out of the woods and was definitely going to live.

He was in the hospital for a rock solid month. Of course I was too and the girls and my SIL were left with patching together a way to take care of Henrietta.

I suppose I should point out to any new readers that Henrietta was my MIL who lived with us and is now deceased. She was wheelchair bound and incontinent, and requiring of much care.

When John was admitted to the hospital and the diabetes was discovered, his blood sugar was 566. Normal is between 100 and 130ish. (At least that’s what we’re supposed to be shooting for.) So he was immediately shot with insulin. His blood sugar was taken 4 times a day and he was given insulin. Every. Single. Time.

I am watching all this and they show me how to do it and I know I will have no problems with it. I give my dogs all their shots, (except rabies which has to be given by the vet due to state regulations). Anyway, I am just not a squeamish person.

So I begin giving his his injections in the hospital when they brought them in and on it went from there.

Once we got home and settled into a routine I got John to give himself a few of them and he saw how easy it is. He just really would rather I did it. And still does.

Now he was out of work for 3 months and was a little bit of a nervous wreck about going back. I mean he was eager and all, just really worried about whether or not he could do it. He was way too thin and super weak compared to his old self. You would be surprised at the durability a grocery store manager has to have. So, by the time he convinced his doctors to release him to go back to work, we have been doing this insulin injection thing for a good long while.

Simple. Check it 3 times during the day and give meds, (Novolog), according to what the blood sugar level is.

Then take it at night and give the night time dose of the other kind of insulin that works when you are fasting. As in overnight. (Lantus)

We had it DOWN, baby

The Novolog, (remember-daytime) I only gave him 6 units, three times a day.

Novolog

The Lantus, (overnight) he was supposed to always get 30 units.

Lantus

Two very different medicines to do the same thing, yet requiring VERY different doses.

So the morning of John’s first day back at work dawns and I am up with him helping him get ready mostly because I know how nervous he is. It has been, after all, three months. He is given all kinds of love and support from the girls as well and we are all in close to the back door with him when we realize he hasn’t had his insulin yet! I run to the fridge and grab the correct insulin pen, dial it to the amount I am going to give him, poke it into his stomach and push the plunger.

Now as the plunger on an insulin pen depresses it clicks once for every unit being given. There is a vast lot of difference between 8 clicks or units and 30.

John’s head snapped up as my eyes became large and roundish. We stood staring at each other for a minute with me thinking something along the lines of, “How can I suck it back out?!”. I pulled the needle out and he said, “How many units did you just give me?”.

And I replied, “Thirty?”.

Oh. Shit.

So immediately I am scrambling for Twinkies and ice cream cups, potato chips and even thought about offering him a beer.

Right… Before work.

It was not a pretty picture. He was fighting crashing all day. And I was at home crying all day. I felt SO awful.

He texted me about noon saying that he was doing OK and had consumed his weight in carbs trying to stay upright.

That day, his first day to go back to work, was the only time I have messed up with the insulin and honestly, his diabetes is such a non-issue now that he only gets insulin about once every couple of months.

Do you think he’d ever let me forget that though?

Posted in John | 9 Comments

HA meets BHE

Posted on August 21, 2010 by Krissa

I have news of great import! OK, maybe not… but it’s at least good news!

First of all, I have been gone to Mither and Pop’s house and just got home on Tuesday. Mither is redoing her kitchen and finds the use of free slave labor, (me), mandatory. I will be going back again here soon. There will be painting of cabinets, new counter tops and we are going to tile the backsplash.

“It” says backsplash isn’t one word. If it’s not it should be, so I am making it one. And you were here to witness it, on this day in history, Saturday, August 21, 2010.

Now, glad that’s all cleared up.

The reason I came home before everything was done, (Aside from the fact that at this point it looks like we will never finish it.), is that for a good long while now, Angie Alley, over at Big Hair Envy, and I have been planning to get together after she and her husband, Scott, were done having their hearts ripped out enrolling and dropping their only child, Snow White, in college at Baylor. Baylor is in Waco, Texas and a mere 4 or so hours away. And after driving to Texas from Virginia, I’m guessing that’s a cake walk. So Angie and Scott made reservations in scenic Galveston and John and I drove down to meet them Thursday night for dinner and drinks. Bless their hearts! It was quite the emotional day for them! I can imagine how exhausted they must have been after going through orientation with Snow White and walking all over campus, moving her into her room and setting her all up, then having to leave her there. In addition to driving for another 4 hours to Galveston.

Meanwhile, I am sitting here at home, unable to contain myself.

I was so excited I could hardly stand it!

Yet, I did not pee myself!

Angie and Scott Alley

We met up with Angie and Scott at their hotel and proceeded to hug and “SQUEEEE!”, and all that happy crap.

*Disclaimer* OK, at this point I will be required by John and I think I can safely say, Scott, to tell you that they did not hug each other or “SQUEEE!”.

Whatev. They did the manly-man thing with the handshakes and then talked a lot of sports.

I think.

Angie and I were so busy chatting I didn’t really pay much attention to what they were saying.

We exchanged gifts, except there wasn’t an exchange. Wait. That doesn’t make sense… Right. You were expecting that.

Angie produced a gift bag with two Blogfest Tervis Tumblers from 2009 and 2010 for me that I am more proud of than you can imagine.

Blog Fest Tumblers

Also, my very own bag of Fiddler Crab Crap that the wondrous Noe Noe Girl made for all the 2010 attendees.

My life is now complete. The huge gaping hole that I thought could only be filled with shit like love and self respect is now gone and I can rest easy knowing I have Fiddler Crab Crap! I am pretty sure the only way to get yours is to attend Blog Fest 2011! I am just incredibly fortunate in that I met Angie.

IN PERSON!

Fiddler Crab Crap

The really sad/bad part is that after all the waiting, all the excitement about seeing them, all the time I had to prepare, I went off and forgot the items I had gotten them at my house!

When I returned home I immediately took pictures of these and sent to Angie on her phone. I will get them off in the mail to her ASAP!

Please forgive the placement of the pictures in this post. I have fooled around with this damn thing for hours trying to get the damn pics and the damn words to go in the right damn places. Every time I hit save it reverts back to a damn mess.

I hate WordPress.

Glasses for Angie and Scott

Apparently I can only type in italics now…. *sigh* Have I mentioned how much I detest WordPress?

Anyway! I was about to tell you about the most valuable pic I took! The one of The Mysterious Buzzard Bucket.

The Mysterious Buzzard Bucket

I am bound by promises and secrets, but I can tell you this much:

It IS mysterious.
It was given to Angie by Grandma J.
It contains…. something mysterious.
If you want to see it in person I am sure it will be at Blog Fest 2011.
Why is it that when I choose to do bullet points THE DAMN THING REVERTS BACK TO NON ITALIC TYPE?
Damn.

Now! I get my regular old type back! All I had to do was bullet points to get it! Something useful to know with WORDPRESS!

Posted in WOO-HOO | 9 Comments

Another Amberen update… just cause I CAN!

Posted on August 5, 2010 by Krissa

AND I CAN DO IT WITHOUT SWEATING!

I have been taking Amberen for six weeks now and my hot flashes stopped after two.

However, before I started taking it, the paint right here, on the wall in HACK, was starting to blister due to the incendiary hot flashes I was experiencing. Not to mention the state of my bed on any given night. It was awash in sweat, tangled limbs and tossed off clothing.

Hummm, that sounds kinda hawt. It was SO NOT.

And while having your wife sleep neck-ed may sound like a great idea to any husband, all the tossing and turning, huffing and puffing and yelling, “YOU’RE TOUCHING ME!”, anytime he rolled over my direction really did get a little old a little fast. I think I can safely speak for John when I say this.

I am a mere 47 years old, peoples. I have been having hot-flashes, at least some, since I was 45. You have no idea how severe these things got.

I was not allowed into crowded theaters.

I could slip into a cool tub of water and steam up my bathroom.

I seriously considered moving into an apartment by myself so I could run around neck-ed all the time. Except for the guys that deliver takeout, I would have NO visitors. No way was I going to cook. Yeah. Those guys would just have to suck it up and get over it.

I had nightmares about spontaneously combusting only to awaken and find that there was a very real danger of it. If only I weren’t so damp.

The dogs were not allowed to sit on my lap. I was… sticky.

Life sucked and then, after one particularly whiny post about my hot flashes this strange guy, named Adam Hodson (By “strange” I mean unknown, and in no way intend to insinuate that Mr. Hodson is anything more or less than a superhero an upstanding American citizen.), wrote me an email and told me about Amberen. So I went to the website, investigated, googled it and and asked the dogs what they thought. It was unanimous. I got my three months worth and started taking them.

I swear, within two weeks I had stopped having hot flashes. Now my energy level is up there where it was years ago and John would boast that when he rolls over in bed and accidentally brushes against me I don’t shriek in his ear.

Yes. Life is like a dream here at the HalfAsstic House.

Posted in Amberen, Getting back to normal!, John, WOO-HOO | 14 Comments

Update! In fact get in touch with that hitman you hired to put me out of my misery and tell him “Never mind!”

Posted on July 31, 2010 by Krissa

Last time I was on here my life was falling apart around me. I was surrounded by appliance cadavers.

It were spooky, ya’ll.

Guess what? They all came back to life! I wandered out into my front yard to try to find the newspaper in the jungle of grass that needs mowing and apparently the top of my head was still visible. My next door neighbor with the immaculate yard called out to me so I took my machete and made my way over to the property line.

He asked me if my air conditioner compressor was running.

I stared blankly at him for a second wondering why there didn’t even seem to be any mosquitoes in his yard and then snapped to. “OH! Yeah, well my A/C has been running all day, just blowing away hard as it can and there is no cool air coming out.”

He then said, “And your dryer? It’s not heating either, is it?”

At this particular point I’m thinking he’s spying on me and the house is rigged with cameras and hidden microphones. While struggling to remember if I had been wearing clothing all day and what other embarrassing stuff I could have done, I stood there and listened to him explain that “A leg of our transformer has blown.”Everything in both our houses that runs on a 220 circuit won’t work.

Well, this is news to me. I do know that anytime that particular transformer blows my house along with the meticulous yard folks and the neighbors located in the two houses directly behind me all lose power. ALL power. So I just go ahead and believe what he’s saying and slip in little tidbits about how my good underwear is dirty but I DO have some. You know, just in case the theory about the hidden cameras and microphones turns out to be true.

After talking to him for several minutes I ascertain that he has called the power company already and they will be showing up shortly. He mentions that the Homeowners Association would not only be grateful to me for mowing the yard, but appreciative for my efforts in donning a bra before wandering outside.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… I’ll get right on that.

I went back inside my abode and turned on the oven. The digital clock was lit up, but no heat from the cooking deals inside. (Yes, I know they’re called elements!)

It truly is a 220 problem.

Anyway, around midnight and with the house steaming hot from having no A/C all day, the electric crew got my power up and running.

They had to completely shut off the power in order to work on the transformer. Apparently the little sissies don’t want to risk any kinds of nasty little jolts to their precious little bodies. So we not only have no A/C, but no fans either, not to mention lights.

I ran a cool bath and climbed in with a flashlight and my nook. I was sitting there in the spa tub, finally cooling off and guess what I heard immediately to my right, on the outside of the large picture window that overlooks the tub? Men. Talking about the work they are doing. Muttering things about how they wish we had mowed and the mosquitoes are a bitch.

I am sitting NAKED not two feet away from this guy! It was freaky! I have a filmy thing hanging there, in front of the glass that I KNOW you can’t see through, but I know they can see the light from my flashlight.

So, eventually they wander off I kill the light and get out, wake John up and tell him there are men outside the bath window and he mumbles something about “Tell them to mow…”, and goes back to sleep.

Funny thing is that when I was reading my comments a reader named Carla, (a former lurker), figured out what it was just by reading my previous post. She hit the nail on the head!

OR, DOES SHE HAVE CAMERAS AND MICROPHONES HIDDEN IN MY HOUSE?

Posted in Hodgepodge, NEUROTIC PERODIC, Strange and socially akward, Uncategorized, just plain weird | 10 Comments

Are you effin’ kidding me?

Posted on July 28, 2010 by Krissa

I went over to Lisa’s house today and we hung out for a while. Her 14 month old, front loading LG washer is broken and she can’t wash any clothes. It is two months out of warranty and she and her husband turned it over and took the back off to find that a plastic part that connects with a metal gear is worn out.

Duh.

I have no idea why anyone would think that this is a good idea. I mean plastic and metal don’t work well together. The plastic will always either break or wear out. Anyway, they ordered the $99.00 part and are waiting for it to come.

Meanwhile, I took home her load of beach towels that were hanging out on the fence to dry when it started raining and were in danger of souring.

(Have I ever mentioned the humidity down here? If things don’t get dried fairly soon, they sour and then mildew.)

Anyway, the stuff had been being rained on since yesterday so it all needed washing anyway, as mud had splashed up on it.

I got home, took a load of my own towels out of the washer and tossed them in the dryer and turned it on.

Nothing.

It started to go, the lights dimmed for a second and then nothing.

Wait a minute… the lights dimmed? This can’t be good. I tried again and it happened again. Over and over.

Finally, I held the knob in the on position and the stupid dryer started. It ran for the allotted amount of time and did not dry a thing. Not even a little bit.

It did not get remotely warm.

Shit.

Meanwhile I attempted to wash Lisa’s towels. My washer is making a bizarre noise that can only mean bad things.

Did I mention that the central A/C is blowing and not shutting off, yet not cooling at all? At all?

AT ALL?

Will someone just wake me up before we all go to the poor house.

Posted in Lisa, Oh crap!, One of those days... | 9 Comments

OK, I’m back!

Posted on July 27, 2010 by Krissa

Right. You can stop holding your breath now.

Henrietta is gone, buried and the thank you notes are done. Now, in my “what’s next” mode of mind, comes…. nothing.

This is really rather odd. There was always “something” next. The sense of freedom is at the same time titillating and scary. I am giddy with lack of responsibility and ability to run, willy-nilly, hither and yon, doing whatever I want whenever the mood strikes me. (And a ride is available.)

I miss Henrietta, yet the sense of relief that I feel was magnified by the immense relief that she felt as she took her last breath.

The girls are having to take turns with me. They both are desirous of my attention. Every. Single. Day.

“Go with me there, Mommy!” and “Come with me here, Mommy!” is what I am hearing constantly. And no. I’m not doing all the buying.

There was a small argument over who got custody of me the other day and I was egging them on telling them how proud I would be if they got in a fight over me. Heh. It was cool. Somehow my past good parenting crap paid off and they found some sort of middle ground. I happily went with whoever and was handed off later in the day.

I am telling you, I am in demand and there is no bedpan involved.

It’s weird.

Now the scary part is, well, financial as much as anything else. I need to find a way to replace the money that was coming into the household via Henrietta’s annuity.

Remember, I don’t drive due to a visual handicap I acquired in a 1978 automobile accident/head injury. All my other people drive, yet have jobs and/or go to school. So they are going to be undependable as far as reliable transportation.

I am sloooowly turning my thoughts towards that foot massager and the line of men that H was convinced I had filing through here paying me money for… a foot massage? I wish I was half as successful as she made me out to be.

Meanwhile, in other parts of Gotham City…

My brother Cam, remember? The rock star? Yes, well he’s published, again. This time a British magazine named Web Designer has included his Periodic Table of Typefaces in their rather pricey pages. I have never paid $15.00 for a magazine before, much less bought three of them.

Yes, I really must love you, Cam… Anyway, congrats to you, bro!

I will get back soon and try really hard to catch up on my blog reading! Things are just starting to slow down around here!

Oh, and right before Henrietta passed I had announced a contest! It’s back on! Read these rules and let me hear from everyone! This is truly a wonderful pile of shit valuable cash and prizes I’m going to be giving away!

Posted in CONTEST, Cam, Head injuries still suck, Henrietta, Like a game show but without good prizes | 9 Comments

H is gone

Posted on July 15, 2010 by Cam

Hello everyone. This is Cam, HalfAsstic Krissa’s brother. I’m posting with Krissa’s permission to pass on some news.

As most of you long-time readers know, Krissa has devoted 76.8% of the content of HalfAsstic (Krissa did the math) to stories of care-giving and the general ensuing hi-jinks related to and/or directly or indirectly caused by her dear mother-in-law, Henrietta (or as Krissa refers to her just plain ‘ol “H”).

Well yesterday, July 14 2010, 88 years after she came into this world, Mary Henrietta Lopez quietly and painlessly passed away with Krissa and other family right there by her side. The whole event from when they all knew it was the end up until her passing was only about 10 minutes so it was indeed a blessing that everything was fast, painless, and with many of her loved ones there with her.

Krissa and her husband John I’m sure would love to hear from you whether you comment or if you like you can privately e-mail them at halfasstic (at) gmail (dot) com.

As you can well imagine, things are busy at the Lopez home right now, but knowing Krissa, the header contest she pushed the last few posts is still on (albeit delayed a bit) and I’m sure we’ll be hearing from her right here on HalfAsstic pretty soon.

Mary Henrietta Lopez

April 29, 1922-July 14, 2010

Posted in Henrietta | 17 Comments

Henrietta update

Posted on July 12, 2010 by Krissa

Don’t forget to enter my contest to win millions in cash and prizes! Wait… who said that?

Just go here and do as I say and nobody will get hurt! Seriously, this is some really good crap, booty!

Sooo, I’m like just minding my own business this afternoon and in the span of a few minutes, my laid-back, vegging out, bon bon popping self was plunged deep, DEEP into hell.

I walked into Henrietta’s room to check on her, thinking all the way from her doorway to her bedside that it smelled quite… bad. Like urine, but she has a catheter, so… what?

She has been steadily sliding downhill lately and warrants trips in to check on her even when she hasn’t rung the bell. She mouthed some garbledy-gook to me. She makes absolutely no sense anymore. Only a few recognizable words scattered here and there amongst crazy sounds. And nothing that you could string together in a sentence. Plus the fact that she can barely make any noise at all. Her voice is a mere whisper of it’s former self. Literally.

Anyway, I check her out and chat with her for a few minutes. Pull her up more in bed and ask if she needs to sit on the potty. She shakes her head no and I tell her that I really do need to change the dressing on her bottom anyway. She nods OK and I get her ready to roll over on her side. I get gloves and prepare to get down to business.

Sloooowly and carefully I roll her over after I have undone her diaper. I peel back the old bandages and examine the remains of a few small bedsores. Yes, they are coming along nicely.

I turn around to retrieve some sterile gauze and the medicine tube from the bedside table. I then turn back and there is a poop fountain sprung anew right in front of me.

Oh, so fast. How did she do that? A big stream of it. I shove the new diaper under the… stream and begin catching all the rest that’s coming out. I clean it all up off of her, remove the soiled hospital chux and there is now poop stoppage.

This is a good thing.

I run out of t.p. and am about to go and get some more, since she is resting comfortably on her side and the more time she can spend off of her butt the better for getting her sores well.

The phone rings. So I trot down the hall and answer it. It’s my brudder, Cam. He is calling to confer about the malware problem I’m having on my blog site. I tell him I’ll call him back in no more than 5 minutes.

When I turn to leave the DINING ROOM where I had left the phone, I notice shiny footprints on the floor. Not good. The floor was clean moments ago.

Weird. They seem to lead right up to where I am standing.

Odd. They are the same shape, size and pattern as the soles of my flip-flops.

Slowdumbandstupid. That’s me.

Well…WTH???

I backtrack and find footprints through the foyer, aaaall the way down the hall and across her room. As a matter of fact they are all over her room. Between the bed and dresser and closet and all around the nightstand.

It’s pee, people. It’s everywhere. And I had been cavorting in it the whole time. If you can call cleaning up pee footprints and bandaging butt sores cavorting.

Her catheter was leaking. There was a puddle of pee on the floor at her bedside the size of a turkey platter. How I didn’t see it when I walked in the first time is beyond my understanding. I blame these wood floors. You can’t see anything on them.

So I spent… God knows how long, on my hands and knees with a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of disinfectant, crawling all over the freakin house spray, wipe, put in plastic bag. Spray, wipe, put in plastic bag. Spray, wi….. you get the idea.

It took forever!

I know this turned out to be just one long bitch session about my ridiculous administrations to her and all and she really is doing much worse and don’t see her lasting too much longer.

I joke around about her, all the shenanigans she used to get up to and the problems with taking care of her.

I wonder how it will feel when she’s gone?

Posted in Henrietta, Oh crap!, Poop | 6 Comments