This Full House Archive

Tag: laughter is the best medicine

  • NaBloPoMo 2015: Carpe Dentum!

    It’s that time of year, again! November is National Blog Posting Month, when many of us blogger-types are reminded about how much we USED to blog…dammit…and, truth be told, although committing to writing every day in November is ambitious (even for social media enthusiasts, like me) I could really use a good brain-vomit (you're welcome!) soooooo, let's catch up, shall we?

    My Dad is very sick. Long story short, he was admitted into the hospital at the end of August for congestive heart failure and chronic kidney disease (which went unchecked for nearly 2 years) so he's been in and out of hospitals since the beginning of September.

     

    Presenting the newest member of the Zipper Club, 2 days post op and looking good 🙂

    A photo posted by Liz Thompson (@thisfullhouse) on

    He had open heart surgery about 6 weeks ago — we did the math, the other day, and figured out he's been home about 7 days in 2 months — but his kidneys are failing, which is now complicating his recovery. His kidneys keep backing up fluid into his system, so they tapped his lungs last week and, well, it's been a one step forward two steps back kind of stretch these last few weeks, yo!

    My brother, my SIL, my husband and I have pitched in and try to help, however and whenever we can, staying with Mom and taking her to the hospital to see Dad — I've even worked remotely from the hospital snack bar, because FREE WIFI — and one thing that I am trusted with doing, while at the hospital (because, you know, I am a professional dork!) is helping Dad with cleaning and brushing his dentures. 

    We had a close family friend visit when Dad was in the ICU and I sort of got distracted (my trying to talk, listen AND do stuff at the same time almost ALWAYS leads to disaster!) while rinsing Dad's dentures in the sink in his room. 

    I grabbed the tube of toothpaste and smeared just a little bit on his top denture and started to…oh…so…very…gently…brushing, but the cream was soooo thick…like cement…and it smelled…like…I don't know…like…wait a minute…raising 4 babies, I know this smell!!!!

    BUTT CREAM?!?!?!?

    [eyes go wide]

    I took a closer whiff and…YUP!!!!!!…I had, in fact, accidentally grabbed the Desitin and tried to brush my Father's dentures with BUTT CREAM!!!!!!

    [rolls sleeves up, blows bangs out of eyes]

    Guess what? Butt cream is REAL hard to get off of dentures, especially when you don't want anyone to notice what an asshole move you've just made, because butt cream is no where close to being even similar to toothpaste!

    Funny thing is, the nurses didn't even question my smelling his dentures to make sure I got all of the butt cream off, because I think maybe they have pretty much seen everything.

    The End.

    NaBloPoMo November 2015

  • They Say Humor Helps Your Heart, Mine Is Cry-Laughing!

    It's been a week since I've been home from the hospital and, well, did you know that laughter lowers blood pressure? Good thing, too — now that high blood pressure and I have a history, dammit.

    Me and Hope Trying to Ignore the Needle in My Arm!

    She fainted while visiting her grandfather in the hospital a few years ago, so we've never been allowed to even mention the word and refer to it as "The place where really sick people go".

    Long story short (you're welcome!): I haven't been feeling very well for quite a while and waited until "Holy crap!" and "MY CHEST HURTS!" oh, and by the way "I CAN'T BREATH!" before getting myself some serious medical attention.

    "Your blood pressure is 193 over 112!"

    Because of my family history, I am very vigilant about getting a yearly physical and I've never had a history with high blood pressure, until now.

    "And it's not going down, so we're going to have to admit you!"

    [one beat, two beats]

    "That's…[huff]…what…[puff]…she…[huff]…said!"

    I don't remember much after my inner-twelve-year-old showed up, but my oldest daughter filled me in later:

    • I apologized to the nurse dude, while the poor guy tried to remove my shapeware-type camisole (because, OF COURSE!) and my industrial-strength bra (because, midlife girls need serious support, yo!)
    • He then removed my flats and I apologized for not freshening up my pedicure from 3 months ago
    • I apologized to the other nurse attempting to insert a port into my arm — prematurely, since I did not end up biting her, I think
    • I apologized to the guy (or woman!) in the emergency bay next to me, because I pass gas when I get nervous…okay, fiiiiiiiiine…I fart, like a boss
    • I apologized to the nurse dude…and to anyone and everyone…FOR EVERYTHING…just in case I pass out…or something

    Even longer story, short (seriously, you owe me a thank you note!): The next couple of days were scary…as all get out…and, well, let's just say I'm bruised from head to toe with all of the prodding…and the poking…HOWEVER…I'm not afraid of needles, any longer…okay, not as much…fiiiiiiiiine…my stomach still hurts!

    "And then she kept apologizing for wearing her industrial-strength bra!!!!"

    Because teenagers love embarrassing their parents, I think it's called payback.

    "It's probably why she couldn't breath!"

    And those were perhaps the BEST five minutes spent…just sitting around the kitchen table with my kids and Garth (not his real name)…cry-laughing…yeah, life was good.

    Until!

    "Well, now that we're all together, we have something to tell you and Daddy!"

    My husband and I looked around the table and opted for the "shut up and listen" parenting strategy.

    "We ALL pooled our money and rented you guys a studio apartment in Cape Cod to spend your 25th anniversary in August!"

    To say that both our eyes went REAL WIDE would be an understatement AND THEN our middle girl (i.e. the spokeskid) looked me dead in the face.

    "Sooooo, now YOU have something to look forward to!"

    [one beat, two beats]

    Garth (to me): "In other words…we can't get our deposit back…DON'T DIE!"

    I gained back close to two years, that day!

  • Don’t Laugh At Me, If I Go All Loopy: Find Me a Bathroom, Frappe, Piece of Cake, or Something!

    UntitledLike the weather, I'm a little foggy about what happened, last night.

    At the risk of TMI (you're welcome!) suffice it to so that even at the lowest possible dosages of Demerol, my system shuts down and, much to the surprise of everyone (most especially, my obstetrician) I fall asleep.

    Yep, right in the middle of giving birth…four times.

    So, to me, non-drowsy simply means:  will render you comatose for at least twenty-four hours AND anything stronger than ibuprofen…well…I go ALL loopy-like.

    Which, for someone who suffers from seasonal allergies AND chronic lower back pain (like I do, dammit) is SO not a good thing, but sort of funny, too.

    "AH…AH…AH…AHCHOO…OWWWWWWWW!…great, now I gotta go pee!"

    Unless, I sneeze and, well, it's all over (literally).

    So, when the cat scan for "the little kidney stone that could" came back and showed a herniated disc in my lower spine and signs of stenosis (triple bonus points!) I was all, like, grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat, where's the bathroom?

    I finally met with a neurosurgeon, this week (came highly recommended by two of my husband's clients, with similar diagnosis, who also happen to be under the age of 50) the surgeon insisted I get an MRI, like, now.

    (more…)