I woke up at 5am, having missed a call from my Tatus at 10:30 last night, by which time my cell phone and I both petered out. He asked me via text if I'd be up past 10pm and I said yes. I didn't indicate, however, how long after 10pm I'd be up, so I don't take all the blame. He said he'd had a crazy week at work, which I do understand, though I texted him that I'd been feeling decidedly neglected. He didn't sound particularly happy in his voicemail that I didn't answer my phone, so this morning, I just texted him my apologies and to try me again later today. I hate missed connections. That sort of shit happens all the time with my best male friend, and it's very annoying, admittedly. For both parties. Ah, well, we'll connect again soon, I'm sure. I have so much to catch up on with him, the least not being when we're getting together for dinner and my tattoo for my 4 year sobriety anniversary.
I never even made it into my pajamas last night. I slept in my 5 layers of go-outside-and-smoke clothes, instead of my Steven Drozd's face on heroin "Christmas on Mars" t-shirt and little gray shorts that I normally wear. Though sometimes I rotate the Drozd shirt with the Keith Richards' "Too Tough to Die" shirt. It depends.
The spinal tap turned out to be a breeze. I was nervous as hell, but I had this humorous, kind old doctor who wore bow tie doing the procedure. He was a radiologist. I had been in and out of consciousness all morning, having taken a nighttime dose of my anti-anxiety medication before the tap to stay calm, and man, it worked. I lied flat on a table, the doctor looking at my spine and counting "1,2,3,4,5...and BINGO." He marked the site he planned to stab with his 25-gauge needle, which made me jump, and he was like "It's a PEN, Andrea." "Ok, whew." Then he went in with the local anesthetic after cleaning me off with something other than topical iodine, to which I'm allergic, which hurt and burned like an SOB, and I winced in pain. He waited a couple of minutes, wrapped the area in plastic or some other sterile wrapping, and went in with his needle for the tap, which I didn't feel at all. Soon thereafter, he said, "We're all done, Andrea." "You are?" I said. Mazel tov! I was rolled back onto my back and taken to same-day surgery recovery, after having been visited by Pastor Dave in the immediate recovery area. I was in and out of consciousness, but I do remember him being there, which was very nice of him. I totally missed out on the bow-tie wearing radiologist who gave me post-op instructions, such as no bending over for 2 days and lying flat the rest of the day (not a problem--I was so sleepy). My mom kept rudely awakening me all afternoon pushing fluids down my throat. I had some soup in bed and drank some tea, and back to bed I went. All in all, the procedure, though uncomfortable, wasn't scary at all, and I came through like a trooper, not leaking any cerebral-spinal fluid in the process. So we're all good. We should have the results by no later than Tuesday to find out which debilitating disease I have with this no-blood-flow-to-the-brain nonsense.
Oh great. Ma's up and it's 6:30. Evidently, she came into my room at 3:30 am to shut the light off and take my phone and computer off my lap. See, Tatus, I was waiting for your call, but I slept on and off all day and I just conked out before you called, with a critically low phone battery. Sorry, darlin'.
"I wonder if you'll stay awake today," she said. One can hope, as I have to see Stosh at 2pm and pick up Luke and his best friend, Adam, who's coming over to play after school.
Like a dummy, I went and bought Luke a package of Transformers valentines to hand out to the class on Valentine's Day. Apparently, this was a critical Mom error, as he's far too mature to hand out kiddie Valentines. "I'm not handing THOSE out, Mom." he said. I emailed the teacher to find out what the Valentine's Day protocol was, and she said they're not having a party, per se, but I was welcome to send Luke with candy to hand out to the class. Well, I'll have to buy another bag, because between the 3 of us in the family, we've eaten through the entire bag of peanut butter cups. Sorry. And apologies to Luke for potentially causing him great embarrassment in class. How was I supposed to know?
YAWN!
George Michael's "Father Figure" is playing on Pandora. I can never figure out if that song is hella sexy or totally inappropriately perverted. In any event, I gave it a thumbs-up! Wow, they followed it up with Michael Jackson's "Dirty Diana." This must be the "Inappropriate Andrea as a 15-year old song mix." Thumbs up!
Well, apparently I have been commanded to take a shower by Ma because the bathroom remodeling guy is coming over sometime this morning, so I'll close this entry of the Rhythms.
Perfect Pandora send off? Best Coast's "Boyfriend."
Until next time....
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