Functionally ReTodded

In case you have somehow missed my incessant whining, I’m hurt.  Bad.

Thursday I noticed a little discomfort in my left ear.  I figured it was the early stages of something that I usually get during this time of year, so I let it go.

Friday my left ear was bothering me and painful, but I just looked past it and took Tylenol and beer.

Saturday morning my ear hurt a shit-ton.  I decided that it would be in my best interest to see my doctor and find out what had caused the escalating problem in my ear.

I hit a fairly crowded office and waited a good while to see Dr. John, the guy that fixed FrankenToe last summer.

He had a look, said that the eardrum was perforated (which I knew and told him), and that there was some “blockage” that was impeding his view and that an Ear, Nose and Throat guy would have to remove it.  He said that it wasn’t ruptured because “If you can hear out of it, the eardrum is still intact.” 

In the meantime, I got a shot of Toridol, some antibiotics, a steroid and some Lortab.  Yay me.

When I got up this morning, I thought that someone had pushed an ice pick into my ear canal.  Oh, and I couldn’t hear.   Which means the eardrum had ruptured. 

My day was spent in dark isolation in the basement.  The wife kept the kids occupado while I shuddered from the pain.  I sweated from the pain.  It was as bad as I remember the cardiac ICU after my bypass when I couldn’t have anything for pain for a good while.  It was excrutating.

We shared a laugh.  It was nice.

If you’ve ever actually had an ear problem / infection / whatever as an adult, you know it’s one of the more painful things you can have.

Why?

Because you can’t do anything to or for it. 

If you have a sprained ankle you can elevate it, ice it, etc.  If you burn your hand you can treat it with some salves or, if you had my dad as a dad, a handful of butter.

But ear problems are different.  They grow inward, so the worse they get the deeper into your brain they go.

The pain got worse and worse until, at around 3:30, I said “Fuck it.  I’m going to the doctor.  This is horrible.”

I saw the same Dr. John and nurse Heather (who yesterday gave me a job lead with her husband’s company) today.  They didn’t hit me for the co-pay, they rushed me in, he had a look, gave me the number for his favorite ENT guy and asked “How many Lortab have you had today…BE HONEST.”

I replied “I’m fine with honest.  I had one at 8:30am, one at 9:30am, one at 1pm, and I currently have one in my pocket.  They’re not helping like I’d like.”

So he writes me an Rx for some stronger stuff and says that if I can’t get in to the ENT to call him and HE’D get me in to see the guy. 

Good stuff.

Oh, and while we were discussing Lortab usage, I said “Would it make me the worst Doc Shopper ever if I came to the same one two days in a row for pain meds?” 

We both laughed, but then he said “If I thought you were doing that, I’d have thrown you out of here.”  Awesome.

So I got my fancier Lortabs, but I’m miserable.  This thing hurts as bad as anything I can remember.  And the combination of that pain AND the sensation of feeling every heartbeat in your ear and it’s painful all day for three full days is nearly too much to ask.

So keep your fingers crossed kiddies.  I’m hitting the ENT at 8am and I’m gonna make up stuff I have until they agree to see me.

I’ll keep you posted.

Hugs,

FRT

p.s. The oscars would have trouble sucking more even though I think Martin and Baldwin are good…

I received a snarky email/comment from Monday’s blog asking, nay demanding that I write more given the overabundance of free time I now have. 

First I’d like to say that you shouldn’t judge me.  It’s not like I’m sleeping til noon, eating bon-bons in bed and watching Oprah.  I eat bon-bons on the couch and Oprah’s not on until 4pm.

I’d also like to thank my wife who, when I find myself being horrifically unproductive or drinking in the middle of the afternoon will say “Hey, just remember you’re getting paid for that.”  That’s love right there my friends.

To catch you up, this is how my week has been so far.

Monday:

Up at 6:30 to wake, feed and generally wrangle all three kids.  Got the eldest to the bus stop, then home to the other two that GBD had fed and dressed. 

Next it was take the other two to school.  A neighbor mom saw me in the car and said “Awww.  You came along to drop them off too?  You’re daddy of the year.”

I replied “Not even close.  It’s my first day of unemployment.”

I think it was about then that she realized she’d eaten a turd sandwich.  LOL

Then it was off to the Krogers for supplies, followed by lunch with Thing One at ten fucking thirty in the morning. 

Seriously?  Lunch at 10:30am?  Did I miss the part where my kid’s enrolled in an Amish school?  When’s the butter churning and barn-raising?

So we waited for Zaxby’s to open, hit the school and I got the “opportunity” to try something that the school attempted to pass off as cheesy pizza crust with marinara sauce. 

I’ve always been a fan of school lunches.  Very few of them bother me.  That said, I’m pretty sure that the cheese bread marinara combo they offered was as close to eating a tampon as you could get.

Then it was home for about 90 minute before we had to go back and get Things Two and Three. 

Home.  Sofa.  Team UmiZoomy trance.

Thing One came home from school and we started our new process of doing homework, which is sitting in the quiet basement with our back to daddy’s game of NCAA football 2010 and with no other kids present.  Amazingly enough, the homework was completed correctly AND in record time.  Yay me.

Fast forward to 7:30 and the usual bed and kid wrangling time again, and by 8pm, I was back in front of Intervention whilst the wife and her chick friends watched in total awe as the Bachelor selected the 7.5 that was obviously a party whore over the 9.5 that wasn’t. 

Imagine that?

Tuesday

No school for the two younger Things on Tuesday and Thursday, so this would be a test.  But not a complete test as it literally snowed the entire day, which made for at least slightly distracted children.

No big news from Tuesday except that our friend Rolf, who was going on a ski trip, dropped off his white MALE schnoodle (schnauzer-poodle) puppy named SNOWBALL to stay with us until Saturday or so.

The dog is cute.  The kids are I-N-S-A-N-E over him and are thus driving him insane.  Everyone in the house (except me) is talking in that super duper high-pitched voice used only for puppies and babies.  I’m pretty sure the dog is already deaf and I know I’m in trouble as I’ve caught a trickle of blood falling from inside my left ear.

Wednesday

 Wednesday started off bad (or so I thought).  I was mad that our county was the only one in the area NOT closed due to the snow.  My wife was kind enough to point out how shitty it would be to have all three kids fighting over, squealing for and chasing the dog all over the house all day.  Well played, dear.  Well played.

The afternoon brought more homework, some piddling around with the reloading of my iPod and homework with Thing One. 

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I’ve applied for about a dozen jobs and am now waited somewhat patiently for the call extolling my virtues followed by the ludicrously awesome pay grade. 

So far, the kids are enjoying the dog, fighting over who the dog will sleep with, and arguing over the dog. 

Good times.

Thursday

Today was going to be tough I figured, given that it was the first day where two kids AND Snowball would be here together.  All. Day. Long.

It took us until exactly 11:15 this morning to realize that if we, the kids and the dog were to survive, we needed to go to Walmart.  We got the kids Happy Meals complete with their iCarly computer pad thingies, and they were giddy. 

I now sit downstairs contemplating an afternoon of kids fighting over dogs, cokes, toys, who’s petting the dog, who got to pet the dog last, etc.

We’ve already told the girls that if they’ll stay in their beds the whole night for the rest of the week (two whole days) that they can have a “sleepover” with mommy and Snowball in Thing One’s room.  Hooray for left out daddy!

FWIW, I’m working on getting a sleep UNDER mommy planned as well.

Happy Survivor day everybody. 

FRT

I officially refuse to apologize for not blogging lately.  I have had a shit-ton on my plate.  The biggest thing is that my last day here may or may not be this Friday.  The uncertainty of not knowing has me a little frazzled and stressed.

But since I am so committed to you, my readers, I’ve decided to throw together a few short rants, and the first is Facebook related.

If you play Facebook games like me (Mafia Wars, Mob Wars, Farmville, Farm Town, etc.), it’s important to understand that you’re a dork.  I know I am.

If you don’t play these games but are friends with those that do, you also know that we are dorks.

But to get upset about getting our updates, requests, etc., is just plain silly.  If you don’t want to receive these nerdy notices but don’t want to unfriend us, just do this:

Hover your mouse over the very offensive notification and you’ll see a box that says "HIDE."

Click that and you will see this dialog:

But you’ll see it clearer.  It says you can hide the person, hide the app or cancel.  So just click "hide the app" and be done with it.  Don’t bother joining groups like "I don’t give a crap about your farm, mob, mafia, pet shop" and such.

Recently the state of Georgia enacted a new "Super Speeder law."  Basically it states the following:

"The Super Speeder legislation will increase fines to decrease trauma-causing behavior. Driving over 85 mph or more anywhere in Georgia and 75 mph or more on a two lane road will be classified as a "super speeding" offense, adding an additional fine of $200, which will be administered by the Georgia Department of Driver Services."

On the surface this sounds like an awesome idea.  But it’s not.  it’s a lazy way to collect more money from motorists.  Instead of being the guy that gives you a ticket for going 64 in a 55 in the Perimeter, they’ll just wait around to hit the guys doing 85 in a 65 and give them a huge fine.  It’s like the guy that waits around to sell the one super tricked out Corvette Z06 instead of trying to move five Chevy Malibu.  Or is that Malibi?  I’m not sure.

But the bigger issue here is the source of my rant.  Speeding. Or should I say, how dumb speeding is and that all people that speed regularly deserve every ticket they get.

And when I say speeding, I’m not talking about the person driving 15mph over the speed limit on a 500 mile road trip where there’s a discernible benefit.  (Just so you know, driving 500 miles at 65mph would take 7.69 hours, while driving the same distance at 80mph would take 6.25 hours).

I’m talking about the ass-hat who is late for their job at Chili’s 6 miles from their house, so they drive 70 in a 45 to ensure that they’ll be less late.  I’m talking about the person that’s late for tennis so they drive 60 in a 35 thru a semi-residential area.

The fact is, you were late when you left, so putting yourself and me in danger to be slightly less late is stupid.

Further, the math alone says you’re being dumb, and that’s if you DON’T get pulled over by Johnny Law.  Don’t believe me?  Here.

If you drive 45 mph for 15 miles, it will take you 20 minutes to get there.  If you drive 65 for 15 miles, it will take you about 14 minutes.  That’s six whole minutes.  And since a traffic stop takes a good 15 minutes at best, your logic for speeding is flawed AND dumb.

Besides, couldn’t you just use your cell phone and call whomever / wherever you’re supposed to be and tell them you’re running late?  Wouldn’t that be easier, cheaper and smarter than driving over your head around people going 2/3 as fast as you?

Yours in math and logic,

FRT