I picked UConn to win. I am awesome.

Today's BEDA theme is 'best advice you've ever received." It took me awhile to think of anything...until I thought of advice pertaining to el puppy-o. Tia is mouthy and noisy. She tries to 'cute' us into doing stuff (mostly works on me), and usually the things she wants are:

1. Food
2. Outside
3. Food
4. Play
5. Food
6. My spot on the couch

And then there are times when she doesn't seem to want anything (other than food, and somebody's chubby enough already), and she just wants to be noisy. For a long time, Tjett and I had absolutely no idea what to do with her in these moments.

And then we took doggy class. I found doggy class to be very good for us, but it wasn't a 'miracle' cure or anything...I think it just got her used to doing things for us. Our instructor, Lisa, liked to think that Tia was basically the same as her Siber-Con, June. I'm sure they were similar, but they are certainly not the same dog. Lisa gave us a few tips for dealing with ridiculousness, including having her wear the head collar most of the time (did NOT work), and tethering her in the rooms (didn't really have any space or desire to tether her while we're in the same room).

But then she suggested Time-Outs. Time-Outs for Tia are not punishment; they're more a way to calm her down. Tia happens to LOVE her kennel...I'm totally serious. How we lucked out and got a dog who adores her kennel is beyond me, but she loves it in there. Sometimes she'll just go hang out in there, even if we're home. It's her room. And every time we leave, she gets a yummy Kong. It's to the point that she cannot wait for us to leave...she runs into her kennel, sits, and waits not-too-patiently for her Kong.

So anyway, if she's getting nuts for no apparent reason, we point and tell her 'kennel!' (or sometimes, even if we discuss 'does someone need a Time-Out?') and she runs in her kennel, we close the door, and we sit for awhile. Usually after about 15 minutes she is calm, and we let her out. More often than not, she's good for the night. When we started, she needed 3 or so a night...then it went to 3 or so a week...and now, we haven't needed to give one more than a few times in the last several months.

Hooray for Time-Outs!

I love you, Sam Rose.

A couple years ago, I had some trouble with my car. By 'trouble', I mean it wouldn't start. The AAA guy came out (if anyone has gotten their money's worth from AAA, it's me), re-charged my battery, and told me that I needed to get a new one ASAP because this one was on its last legs.

Which was super awesome news, because I was driving to Minnesota the next day. Which, from central Illinois, can be anywhere from an 8-hour trip with no traffic to a 12-hour trip when there is construction and traffic...and lunch in Madison with Becky :). So I made the decision that I would try to drive to MN, and get a battery there.

The car survived the trip up. My mom at the time lived in one of the worst cities ever, Wayzata. Wayzata is a fairly wealthy town, with a lake, yachts, mansions, and a very cute downtown with very cute little shops and very cute little restaurants. I say it's one of the worst cities because, as my brother so eloquently put it..."They're all a bunch of rich fucks."* My mom happened to work there, and so got an apartment in town. An apartment that she paid far too much for, that had constant problems, like the ceiling caving in from busted pipes that went unfixed for months on end. Ok, I'm not a fan. But I digress.

I took my car to the local auto-body shop, where they over-charged me for the battery, and then because they had to take out my washer fluid thingy, they charged me an arm and a leg for the labor. But I got my battery, and I was good to go.

So I thought.

Fast forward maybe 6 months. I went to my car...and the battery's dead. Crap. I called AAA, and they sent a guy over. He was very, very nice, and rather dreamy. By dreamy, I mean he had long hair and a Metallica t-shirt. He re-charged my battery (oh baby) and left. After letting my car run for 30 minutes or so, I turned it off and went back inside. About 10 minutes later I decided to go run some errands, so I went back to my car...and it didn't turn on. Super crap. I called AAA again. They sent the same guy over, who waved and grinned at me from his tow truck. He got out, and said, "you just wanted to see me again!" to which I smiled and shook my head. He tried re-charging my battery again, but it just wouldn't hold a charge. He thought it was the alternator**and towed my car to a nearby Meineke (which he recommended). As we were riding to the Meineke, we were chatting, and then he remembered something.

"Oh shoot, I was supposed to identify myself when I came over. 'Howdy, my name is Sam Rose and I'm from Tatman's Towing' and I'm here to tow your car."

"I kind of figured from the 'Tatman's Towing' truck."

So...I realize that that wasn't the most 'romantic' conversation I've ever had with a total stranger (that honor may have gone to the ex-con on the bus who felt up my calves), but I've been smitten with him since that day. Every time I need my car jumped I REALLY hope it's him. It hasn't been. And yes, Tjett is very well aware of my infatuation with Sam Rose, the tow truck guy.

Oh, and the problem with my car was that the fancy-schmancy mechanic in Wayzata who replaced my battery simply finger-tightened the leads, and they had come loose. Wanna know how much I was charged for the guys at Meineke to take out my washer-fluid thingy, figure out what was wrong with my battery and fix it?

Nada.


*Yes, I realize that not all people from Wayzata are jerks, and not all rich people are jerks. In fact, I rather hope to be one of them someday. But you must admit, there is a difference between a family having money and living in a nice home...and pretentious, blatant, overt displays of "wealth and status."

**I'm convinced that all men who are not mechanics really have no idea what is ever wrong with cars, and they use "it's the alternator" on every occasion just to sound manly.

My day in haiku: Food, doors, theft, doggy play-date; Research, basketball.

Delicious breakfast.
I had pancakes; Tjett, French Toast.
Eating there again.

"Hold the door for her!"
He said as he walked right past.
Chivalry is dead.

"Free sample:" Lady,
When nobody's at the booth,
You can't drink it all.

Tia, Little Bear.
Let's chew on each other's ears.
Now she is sleepy.

Help! My Cornell talk
Lacks Rhodamine spectra.
Procrastination!

Free appetizer!
The sole reason I STILL care?
I CALLED VCU!!! :(

BEDA Day 1: Well hello!

Hello! Today marks the first day of Blog-Every-Day-In-April. Since I am lousy at introductions, I figured I would give you little "Katie tidbits" in the form of one of those fancy poems, that I cannot for the life of me think what it's called. You'll understand:

BEDA: Introduced to me by Becky, one of the most creative people I have ever known!

Lasers: My livelihood. These are what I use in my research, which will someday give me a PhD?

Olives: I prefer green. The best I've ever had were in Italy, with some sort of awesome marinade. 

Green: My favorite color. (Which is not why I like green olives better than black; they just taste better.)

Evan's canal osteotomy: One of the procedures I recently had on my foot. Hence the surgery posts.

Voracious appetite: Man I love food!

Elizabeth: My middle name.

Rick-rolling: I still think it's funny.

Your mom: I still think it's an appropriate response to insults.

Dog: Her name is Tia. She is very grumpy that I can't walk or play with her for awhile. 

A blue rubber used-to-be-squeaky bone: Tia's "baby," and her very very favorite toy.

Yep, I dye my hair: Right now it's dark brown. I like it.

Industrial: I've had it for a year. I love it. I'm enjoying it while I can, before I have to look professional.

Nachos: A perfectly acceptable meal.

Alice in Chains: My favorite band, ever. I have mentioned them an embarrassing number of times.

Perrier: Overpriced, but I'm a fan. I just happen to like fizzy water... 

Running: I did for about 9 months before I broke. My goal is to start again in about 5 or 6 months.

Iced Tea (as opposed to Ice-T): Unsweetened. Definitely. Unless it's Jeremiah Weed Sweet Tea Vodka. Mmm, mmm.

Lut'ran: Oh sure, you bet. Hotdish and red Jello.

Surgery Post III: Things No One Told Me

Much like "Oh by the way, the reason you have a sore throat is because we shoved a breathing tube down your throat but we didn't want to tell you beforehand (see previous post)," there were definitely a few things that I wasn't expecting, because simply put, no one bothered telling me. Some are more serious than others.

• They put the nerve block in while you're still awake. The nerve block is a wonderful invention...I believe it's the same technology as an epidural, only instead of going in the spine, it went in my thigh to make just about my entire calf and foot totally numb so that when I got out of surgery, I would have next to no pain at all. I assumed this would be done while I was already unconscious. Nope! While awake. I have lots more to say about this, but that will be part of a later post.
• Peeing is REALLY hard. They had me use the bed pan for the first night. Part of it is, I'm sure, psychological...I've been actively, purposefully, NOT peeing in my bed for 23-odd years. But that aside, something about the anesthesia or the morphine simply makes it really, physically, difficult to pee. I have never had to concentrate so hard to pee before. And then, of course, as soon as my body 'remembered' how to go, I had to go every hour or two all night long. But even though I 'had to,' it was hard. 
• My toes look like plastic. So says my husband. My TOES are swollen. I had my plaster/gauze/Ace bandage splint replaced today with a sweet green cast, so I finally got to see my foot. There is so much swelling, but apparently it's perfectly normal. For some reason, I was not expecting this much.
• Oh, and, by the way, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO GIVE YOURSELF A SHOT EVERY DAY FOR THE NEXT 2 WEEKS. It's so I don't get a blood clot. That would be bad. I was wondering why I had gotten a packet in the mail, "How to Self-Inject," but since no one had cared to tell me, I didn't think much of it. I have lots more to say about this, too.

Surgery Post II: Pleasant Surprises

I had my appendix out when I was 10. While that wasn't exactly the highlight of my childhood, I think that having that experience made me a little less apprehensive about having this surgery. For example, I remembered that even if you were lucky enough to sleep well, nurses still came in to wake you every every 4 hours to check your vitals. I also wasn't surprised when I didn't keep down Jello and water. Thankfully though, there were a few things that I was either expecting to be awesome and WAS, or that I was dreading and it wasn't a big deal!

• The IV. The IV before went in my hand, but they put it in after I was out from the gas. All I know is that while it was in, my wrist hurt really bad and they had to put a splint on, rendering my hand useless. I was not looking forward to it. Well, this time around they put it in my arm, a couple inches below the wrist. Putting it in wasn't horrible, and I could actually use my hand without pain. One of the most painful parts of my previous trip to the hospital was when they took the IV out...this time, no problem. The area is still a little tender/bruised...but I'll take it.
• Anesthesia. Anesthesia, for me, is a trip. It's so much fun. When I was 10, they just gave me the gas, but I was looking forward to it from when I had my wisdom teeth out. It did not disappoint! You know on the edges of fluorescent lights, there are sometimes little round, plastic 'caps'? I really don't know how to explain them any better. Regardless, I definitely saw them fall. I asked the kind nurses/surgical staff if that was actually happening. "No Katie, that's just the anesthesia. The room will get kind of spinny." I looked around..."Nope, none of the rest of the room is spinning. Are you sure they're not actually falling?" Out.
• The Sore Throat. Coming out of appendix surgery, I was not surprised that my abdomen was sore. What DID surprise me was the super-duper sore throat. I was informed that it was because of the breathing tube that they used during surgery, that they didn't tell me about because if I knew about it, I would resist it (not totally sure how that would work considering I was passed out...). So I expected it this time. And I'm pretty sure they mentioned something about a breathing tube, so I was fully expecting to have a sore throat and eat lots of popsicles. Surprise, surprise...no sore throat! Huzzah!
• The Shot. I couldn't tell you what it was for, but following the appendectomy they gave me the most painful shot I've ever had in my life. Right in my thigh. I was very very very happy that that was not repeated.
• The Blowy Thingy. I think it was to ensure that you got all the anesthesia out of your lungs. I remember having to periodically blow...or actually no, I think I had to inhale...from this weird contraption. Lung capacity or something? The air tasted bad through all the tubes and made me cough. Following abdominal surgery, this was not fun. I realize that following foot surgery, it should not be a big deal. But I still didn't want to do it. Imagine my panic when my Parkland College nursing student, Tammi, asked if I had that yet. Apparently it's on every surgery patient's orders...but no one actually does it. Which is totally cool with me. I was getting all the oxygen I needed, and that's all that mattered to me.

Surgery Post I: A Call to Arms

I had foot surgery last week. I was originally going to write one big long post about it, but I tend to get bored writing them and I doubt anyone would actually want to read it. So I've decided to parse them out into several smaller posts. This way I'm more likely to finish them, and I can say 'look how productive I was today! I wrote a bunch of blog posts!'

So in this bite-sized edition, I just wanted to say THANK YOU to the million nurses and techs who made my life so much easier. I should probably send them a card.

Jaymie, Day Sam, Night Sam, Tomas, Tara, and Stella. There were probably others, but these are the people I remember the best. Jaymie was my day-time nurse. If life was Scrubs, she'd basically be a white Carla, a kind of no-nonsense-yet-very-caring nurse in charge. Sam was her tech. She was very sweet. I'm really, really thankful for Tomas, Tara, and Stella. Tomas was my first night-time nurse. Tara was my night-time tech, and Stella was Tomas' assistant. The first night was the worst. Tara and Stella cleaned me up when I threw up berry Jello and water, and did so not only without complaint, but also without making me feel like I was putting them out or making them do anything gross. Same with bed pans. Originally, Tomas just had the ladies help me with the bed pans, but at one point, all the ladies were on break, so he helped me out (with my permission). He was so incredibly professional and nice and I am so grateful. I don't know what they get paid, but it is NOT enough. These people are saints.