Monday, November 8, 2010

nothing gold can stay.

As I posted earlier, mom has been in the hospital all weekend and will be for the rest of the week getting her ticker tweaked [Tangent: Today the docs threw in an extra surgery and mama got a pacemaker. And I know what you are thinking...yes you can operate a microwave with a pacemaker. That was the first thing I asked and I was promptly informed that unless our microwave was made in 1987, mom should be in the clear. Yay. Hot pockets!]. Because of this heart tinkering, I have logged even more hours sitting in hospital rooms. I imagine 1/6 of my year has been spent in a white walled facility of some sort.  I wonder if its like Sweet CiCi's, getting a punch for each visit. In that case, fingers crossed I will have earned a free enema or heart cath by year's end. A girl can dream.

Over the weekend I determined that hospital waiting rooms are the most depressing and strange little nooks in society. Everyone's sad. Everyone's edgy. Misery loves company so everyone is comparing war stories. Also the magazine selection is atrocious. My sister and I determined that either the lamest person alive has donated all their magazines to Centennial, or the ordering is handled by some zany shut-in who lives in an adobe home. The magazines available for our enjoyment:

 *This is the official magazine of the USO... very high profile publication. 
Somehow they snagged an interview with Gary Sinise (a class act.)
 *yep...thats yet another RV magazine.
 *My sister thought this was the best of the bunch...and then realized it in no way applied to  her because Tennessee is not located in the West.

*This magazine was my favorite because it had a lot of terrible articles about quilting, porch swings and small town opera houses. If I start subscribing to this kind of magazine ever...even when I am 87, please intervene somehow.

After learning all we could about RV travel, homespun handicrafts, hummingbirds and Gary Sinise- we transferred waiting rooms where I found the following two disturbing things. Draw your own conclusions...

Apparently there were even more literary gems like this one that someone had neglected to take home with them. I will check them out tomorrow. [Tangent:Maybe by the end of my mom's hospital stay I will find out "What if Wishes Were Horses?"]

Along with my mom trying to scare me all weekend with her medical woes, I learned two of my most dear luxuries are trying to weasel themselves out of my life. First and foremost being the Wendy's Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger. Although the tasty tiny square pattied delight has just been moved off the 99 cent value menu by raising its price to $1.49, to me, that basically means it may as well not exist.  [Yeah...line up gentlemen, because I am the cheapest date ever! ] Since childhood, I have only ever ordered off the value menu at Wendy's and I could order my meal of a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, 5 piece chicken nuggets, frosty and small Mr. Pibb [Tangent: Mr. Pibb is the evil stepbrother to Dr. Pepper. I try not to be too hard on the soft drink because I imagine that it's hard to live in a Dr's shadow.]- all for under five bucks.

Possibly the most disturbing thing I learned (yes...more than that creepy purple chair stain) over the weekend was that legislation is currently trying to be passed making it impossible to purchase sudafed without a doctor's perscription. This is apeshit craziness. I love the 'fed.  Its absolutely my drug of choice. There have been many days where I required a bump of 'fed to get me from point A to point B. It clears your sinuses and amps you up without all that gross Red Bull flavor. Once again, Meth Addicts are ruining life for all the rest of us who just like to breathe easy and not fall asleep in the middle of the work day. Thanks again Meth heads....
*I am sure they did it for those killer cheek bones.


  1. I love your blog, Kimmie. And that chair is NAAASSTY! - Cate

  2. Elmo trumps Gary Sinese. [He got the bigger font.]


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