The Devil is in the Details

So, my apologies for the craptacular post yesterday.  Of course, if every day was sunshine and daisies you would think I was a phony, or had a prescription drug addiction.  Just keeping it real for you.

Last night, we played an amazingly fun game.  First, the name, Telepictures.  Karina explained the game and Kelly said, "Oh, like telephone, only on paper."  Both Karina and Sarah S. said, "What?"  How can they not know about Telephone?  I would be a serious liability in a game of Telephone, mine you, Wookie voice and all.  Anyway, each person gets a stack of little slips of paper.  You write a word or phrase on the top sheet and then pass to the left.  The next person puts the word on the bottom and draws a picture of that word on the next sheet.  Pass to the left and the next person writes a word or phrase they divine from that artwork.  And so on.  We went around twice.  It was hysterical what it came out as.  Who knew that Kiss my Grits could morph into Human Centipede.  In one group, the leap was strangely made from Nosferatu to the Golem, to Granny on Heroin, to Lt. Uhura.  And, it didn't matter if I could talk.

That helped a lot.  Sleep is also helpful.  We dumped in some chamomile tea and some Imodium and I stopped "eating" in order to quiet my stomach down.  Other than the periodic waking up to suction the goop out of my mouth, a solid night. Thankful that it is just goop and not the horrifying gunk you get during radiation.  Again so thankful for no radiation.  You know your husband can learn to sleep through anything when you are turning on something that sounds like an outboard motor right next to the bed at random times.

This morning was better.  My stomach still sounds like a storm coming over the mountains, but it seems less angry.  I did break down and take the anti-nausea meds this morning.  They work great but make me completely unconscious.  Sometimes that isn't a bad thing.  I spent the bulk of the day in bed.  I slept.  I read three of the 39 Clues books.  I had some time to think a little bit.

Okay, I've tried to rephrase this a dozen times, but I can't seem to come up with a way to say it that doesn't make me sound way better than I am.  I hate that I am inconveniencing people.  Again. I hated people having to carry stuff up the stairs for me when I was in heart failure, but I knew that would get better after surgery.  I was embarrassed by how slowly I ate after losing part of my tongue.  I got used to it, but I always felt compelled to apologize to those, well finished, waiting on me to finish.  Not that even once did anyone complain.  Well, the 8 year old, but she complains about everything regardless.  Now I'm going to be asking people to be patient with me, forever.

If you've spent anytime with me, you know that I am the master of the "remark."  The humorous observation. The snide jab.  The perfect comment.  But, timing is everything.  It loses something when they have to wait until it I write it down.  Or worse, someone beats me too it.  This will be difficult to accept with grace. However, know that all those words are still there.  And they are still funny.

My greatest consolation prize was listening to Karina tell a story last night.  She is my daughter.  She can command the room and make people hang on her every word.  She doesn't leave out the details, has the timing down, and knows when to stop. And, she almost always understands me when I speak. She'll have to do my stand up routines for me.

God love Kelly, he is the most amazing man on the planet.  However, in our relationship, he is the big picture guy.  I am details.  Now I need to give information in dribs and drabs and I need him to fill in the details. This has been a struggle for him. Oh, and car rides.  I am the talker on car rides.  Writing stuff down doesn't work so well when he is driving (or I suppose if I was driving...)  The talking device will be crucial to the long car trip.

Amazing Angie came and worked with Kelly on putting the yard to bed.  I don't know how we would have survived this whole adventure without our friends, but Angie and Ed have gone above and beyond time and again for us.  There aren't enough Karma points in the world to compensate them.

The speaking is slightly better as the trach hole slowly closes.  Still, no one will be inviting me to be the guest speaker, except maybe for a Klingon convention.  Even my family can't tell the difference between thank you and I love you.  And there is nothing wrong with that...