It's the Final Countdown! WARNING: Graphic Pic attached

"Hey sis... wake-up." Huh? Wha? Wait... I just hit the pillow 4 1/2 hours just flew by & not in a very comforting or relaxing way. I'm hazy from the xanax & wine. YES... I stopped before midnight I'm not that irresponsible. Oh crap... I haven't packed my hospital bag, screw changing, no make-up aloud, so no need to doll up, not that it would have made a difference. The fear inside along w/my looking like death mixed w/the stress of unpreparedness was enough for me to just simple say out loud, "Fuck it... here we go." A bed has been prepared for me in the back seat of my mom's Mercedes SUV. BUT... mom is not driving... big bro is so we make it there in record time not without my mom stressing about the speed a bit. I wake up & we're there. I have my own entourage... believe me I wish it included Kevin Connelly too, but instead just my loving family members (mom, big bro & sister-in-law) The doors to Emory University Hospital slide open and the sound resembles that of the starship enterprise. Oh yeah... beam me up, put me out... Hell... put me down. Much is a blur as I am filled w/such fear it really is indescribable. Clothes off, gown on, Uggs into baggies, do I want them or should Mom take them home? I really don't give a rat's ass. Hop on gurney, roll into room with mom as only one family member is allowed to go with me. Oh and my mom and I almost run into a wall before I even made it to the gurny. Only my mother & I could manage to almost kill each other on our way to a pre-op room. My real anesthesiologist comes in and introduces himself... um... is he old enough to administer Flinstone chewables much less anesthesia? Oh fuck... then enters HIS assistant who is even younger & of course a resident. I am given some initial drugs to calm me & then it's time to be introduced to the lil' bastard I will soon come to know and refer to as Southern Louis Cypher (Lucifer) That prickly little fuck... but he'll have his story time later. In the meantime... lil' missy assistant is flubbing clumsily with my left wrist while telling me how she imagines LA is so cool etc., etc., I tell her she can go & do her thing, but for now could she actually find a vein rather than test every cm of my left wrist out w/the needle. I swear if I wasn't already out of it and still had the strength I would have taken my right hand & slapped her upside the head while yelling FIND IT ALREADY BITCH! The pain was excruciating and that was just the I.V. for the local. I am then told for the first time I will be getting an epidural. Say what now? Now I should have mentioned earlier... aside from my obvious fear of needles... the thought of having one in my spine has always scared the wholly crap out of me. My mom assures me this is what they did for her hip surgery & it really is the best. I was promised I wouldn't feel a thing. I look at my mom & cried & this scared my mom. Upset really, because I think at this point I really DID look like her little girl she once knew. They came over to finally administer the epidural & at this point my mom felt she should leave. Then... enter my sister-in-law. I am so scared & SO out of it. This part is pretty blurry, but I guess even in my haziest I had no problem posing for a pic... of course w/a signature fuck you finger to boot and how convenient the monitor was on that finger too:
My sister-in-law tells me I'm doing great & says other soothing words & next thing I know I'm in the OR. I remember big, bright lights, tons of equipment & still feeling scared as shit. Oh man... the drugs aren't working. Fuck I may never wake up this could be it, so much I didn't do, why am I a slave to my job? I never got married, no kids is obvious... please don't take my ovaries... I... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The following is REALLY GRAPHIC as it is an actual pic of my Uterus sliced in half. This was sent to me by the chief resident Jason per my request. You all will be grossed out, me... well... it's part of me so I was more fascinated with the aspects of it as I thought... hmm... sure doesn't look like all those medical diagrams you see in health class or in the gyno's office, plus I'm wondering if it's upside down? I mean I always thought it was V shaped... this is more blob shaped if blob is considered a shape... again... VERY GRAPHIC, but if I'm going to give this blog all of the truth to my experience... Pootwa & I need to show it all... the good the bad & the ugly... come on I can't have ugly pics of my filling this blog entirely:


"Laurie... you're all through. You did great & everything looks good so far." Hmmm? What year is it? Who am I? Where am I? I want my mommy.

Next thing I remember I am wheeled to my room... a single & I am told I am on the best floor of the hospital w/a great view. Whoopeee. What about my ovaries? Do I have them still? I think about it for a moment... do I ask Susan the very sweet Southern speaking nurse or wait & ask my mom? Oh time is ticking, this is taking forever... wait what are you doing? Why are you moving me more? Vitals? Now? Why I just woke up? What? why? Oh crud. Finally I can't take it anymore, "Um nurse? Did they take my ovaries?" She grabs my chart looks through the paperwork, "Lets see... it looks as if they took your left, but kept your rig... oh no wait... no they took both." I begin to whimper and she then says thinking she's being comforting, "Oh honey it's alright, they took mine and I'm just fine." Now forgive me, but this will sound horrible but the woman was older and all I could think was... well yeah you're old... Right at this point the door to my room opens & standing outside is my mom, brother, sister-in-law, nephew & niece. I lock eyes w/my mom and burst into tears crying, "Mommy they took them, they took 'em. Not them... I wasn't ready... nooo..." My mom looks at me smiling w/tears and says, "They took what munchkin?" I almost screech w/my reply, "My ovaries!" My mom calmly shooshes me and says, "Sweetie... they didn't take them. You still have them baby girl. That was one of the first things the doctor made a point of telling us. You're ok... just relax now"

Relax is an understatement & one no one should have even attempted to utter to me because I hardly relaxed from that point until the time I left the hospital. No sooner did my mother utter those words than a group of people come in to take my vitals which consists of putting the blood pressure sleeve on, take my temp & hook that clip to my finger. That's fine... I'm good with that, BUT then I'm handed some apparatus I am told to inhale from. One half has a thing that floats up to 2500 ml and another part that has a yellow thing in it that has Best, Better, Good. Now my nephew who is 16... he's a high schooler & of course privy to things. Come on... most his age are. So as I am inhaling he gets the slyest smirk on his face which I catch from the corner of my eye & I swear I almost bust my gut. I shot him a look and under my breath said, "Stop it! You're gonna make me laugh!" He giggled. God I love my nephew! He's such a crack-up.

Well now of course it's photo op time & so my sister-in-law thinks it would only be appropriate to have me pose w/my I Heart Guts Ovary & Uterus... I sort of remember, but I don't & thankfully she didn't show me what it looked like afterwards or I would have flipped. At this point I have NO clue that my entire body has ballooned to an unusually large state.
For the first time I KNOW why I'm single. What a beaut!

So family leaves... I think... ah peace & quiet & time to fade out and get some sle... "Hi we're here to give you a blood clot preventing shot." Huh? What? Why? More needles? "Oh don't worry sweetie, this is every 8 hours so it's not so bad." Not so bad? Every 8 hours? Are you fucking kidding me? No sooner do they leave then another round comes about 45 minutes later... "Hi we need to take your blood for monitoring purposes." You took blood yesterday & last week and... what could possibly have changed? My blood type? Are the Cullins here? Was it that bad Twilight reference I made earlier? Ok.. ok... Kristen Stewart is a good actress (Sorry I'll never be able to admit that... just take the blood) "Don't worry honey we only have to take it a few more times after this and then you're done." A few more times??? How few is few? 2 or 10??? What is YOUR idea of few? What is Emory University Hospital's definition of few? Well... exactly 5 more times over the span of 3 1/2 days of my stay to be exact. Oh wait... I almost forgot... ow... I'm in pain... um hello? Hi... I'm in pain can I get something? "Oh sure sweetie. I'll be right back." Being right back is about as questionable as "a few". Seemed like forever. Then a nurse comes in with a syringe... Oh for fuck's sake no! Not another shot I can't handle another one. No please, please, PLEASE... wait where are you putting that? In the tube oh thank go... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

JUST as I think I'm off to La La Land knock knock. Why they ever bothered to knock is beyond me because whether I answered or not they still came in. Oh goodie... it's two of the residents who come in to "check" on me. Yes... I am still drugged out, yes I am in pain & yes I'm EXTREMELY tired would you mind letting me have a few more z's? Well one of the residents' name is Sony & yes she is Asian and no I'm not making this up. Her side kick is also an Asian girl who's name escapes me and for good reason. These two residents came to be my 2 very disliked visitors. They had the bedside manner of Annie Wilkes from Misery. They inspected my incision which by the way was not stiched up, but rather bonderd w/some sort of human super glue like substance & then tape going all across as you can see:
Kinda creepy. I mean I still question the strength of Super Glue. I never did trust the old commercial w/the guy squirting a small amount on his hard hat that he then stuck to some bar flying high above the ground & that was before blue screen.

Anyhoo... so Sony and let's just call the other one Panasonic... they eyed me once over again & then said, "Ok... well we'll let you rest." FINALLY! No NOT finally. Guess it had been time long enough to pass for the Vital checkers to come in AGAIN! Blood pressure... check, finger in clamp... check, thermometer in mouth... check. "Oh... you have a slight fever." Slight? Blood pressure good though. Really? Cause I'm boiling mad right about now w/all of your invasive comings & goings. Then I hear an eerie yet familiar sound. Wait... am I in a hospital in Venice or Hollywood? Why do I hear a ghetto bird? And why is it getting louder? And louder & OH MY GOD is a helicopter about to crash into my room? No not quite, but thankfully only landing on the heli-pad that is situated directly to the right of my window 3 floors down. Are you kidding me? Oh keep in mind... earlier when I was told I had one of the best views in the hospital they also tried to guss it up by saying it's like the penthouse suite. Penthouse where? The hood? I mean I get it. Medi-vacs are super important, but don't try and tell me I'm in some grand suite in a W Hotel. I'm not THAT drugged up. It's official... I'm not in a hospital I am in Hell.

After finally able to doze off thanks to injected happiness of whatever painkiller they injected I am awoken at around 6am w/the oh so unpleasant blod clot preventing needle to the left arm "You sure you don't want it in your thigh?" Um... yeah I'm sure. Then business as usual... blood takers come and drain me... poke, poke, poke. Vital checkers... fever a bit higher, blood pressure a bit low. Then around 9am-ish Ira visits. "Well how are we today?" WE are not fine... "Ok let's take a look at the incision." This by the way is when a doctor is really not caring how you are... this is when they want to inspect the artwork they have created & this is when they gloat at their handy work. At this point I had a stomach support belt around me covering my incision & giving me the only real comfort I could only hope to get from a mere hug. Ira opens it up with one full swoop... sound of velco inserted here. Then he essentially does the pulling of the table cloth off the table without disturbing the flower vase trick... ripping the only security blanket literally out from under me. "You don't need this any more. You're young, your stomach will snap back into place on it's own." But... but... you bastard. "So... you gonna get out of that bed today & sit in that chair for me today?" Huh? Who are you? Satan? It's official... I no longer like Ira. I hate him & his little minions in tow. Then Ira takes another gander at my stomach & has some concern. It's quite distended which isn't a great thing. I am now told I will have to get a CAT scan. Normally I'm a cat person... this CAT term though... not so much! Um what does said CAT scan entail? How many pricks do I get for this & is there fear of being opened up again? The fear is this bulging in my tummy is a big ol' blood clot. Oh joy. Can I NOT get a fucking break here?

One last bloodletting, vitals check & off to the CAT scanner we go! I am scared shitless AND none of my family is here at this point. I am praying to just be knocked out and wake up on the other side from this nightmare w/all my limbs in tact. I sort of remember the CAT scan. I asked for a sedative beforehand because I really was losing it. At least no creepy sounds like the MRI. I'll give it that. I mean it wasn't exactly purring, but it wasn't scary. Or that was just the sedatives. Back in my room I am informed... no clot, just gas. Gas! Lovely... Reason # 72 why I am still single. So now that that is over you think it's time I get to rest right? Oh no... you do remember what Ira wanted me to do today right? I had a date w/a chair next to my bed. Ok so let me get this straight... go through traumatic experience after a major surgery the day before & now my goal is to get up, "dangle"... yes they said "dangle" my legs over my bed then place both feet on the ground, bend at knees, straighten myself up and... walk to the chair then sit down again. Oh joy. My family comes to visit at this point & everyone is in tow except for my niece who got a tad ill from the whole hospital experience the day before. Understandable... she is only 12. My family, who is completely clueless to what I have just endured come in and are so excited & proud to see me sitting. Oh & flowers had been delivered the day before by my family with the arrangement looking like it has a doggie attached & my Aunt, really one of my mom's best friend's, but she has always been Aunt to me... she too sent a beautiful arrangement w/a happy face balloon so my room isn't entirely depressing:

My family stays for as long as they can then they see I need to get back in bed & get more blood drawn & that usually is the time one would want to exit. The rest of the day is the same as the day before, no sleep, vitals, blood, blood clotting prevention prick, squirt of pain killer, bad tv in back round & attempted sleep.

Day 3 Today we go for a walk around the floor. I do a couple laps. Oh goody. My brother & sister-in-law visit... they decide they're going to begin tapping the other I.V. & give Lucifer rest. Well that sounded great in theory and all but for whatever reason the minute they put whatever I was needing at that time... potassium, nutrients, whatever... when they connected that I.V. line to one of the capped I.V. connections in my right arm... there was one of THE MOST painful waves of pain shooting through my right arm. It was a combination of burning & stinging & the taste of metal shot in my mouth. I screamed, looked at my brother for help & was just crying like a baby. I can't tell you how much this hurt. As much as I hated Lucifer, I demanded he be turned back on. Little fucker. So they switched it back and of course under the tape keeping Lucifer all snug in my skin... blood trickled out a bit along w/whatever fluid of choice they were giving me. well I'll tell ya what fluid they have to give me now... PAIN KILLING fluid. I was still in excruciating pain. My brother & his wife were a bit rattled by this whole scene, but once the drugs kicked in and they saw I was floating to a better place, they calmed down. They eventually gave me kisses goodbye and left. I was in my room alone and for the first time a bit more aware than the past few days of my situation & I thought... when I remember all this and document it in this blog I am going to be the worst example of how to handle a surgery bravely. Little miss smart-ass crying like a fucking baby. It's not brain surgery dipshit. People have it worse than you. Think about those that have to deal w/chemo daily. You're lucky now grow up & get yourself the Hell out of here. Do what they want, comply & the faster you can get discharged. Well as my nurses change their shift once again... it seems the pandemonium was dying down. No wait... oh here she comes for the anti-blood clotting shot. I drift off to sleep for a while and vow tomorrow I do a bunch of laps & get the Hell out.

To be continued...

Early Detection is key. Sisters & brothers, girls & boys... I'm serious and I mean SERIOUS!!! Get yourselves checked. Life is too short.

Love to everyone and even though they're happily in tact...

Ovaries out!

-L

WOW! Reality! It really IS a Concept.

Well I know I failed miserably in keeping a daily "blog" log. Honestly... some days were just not that eventful. My Pre-Op has yet to be logged in, I will try and recount this for you now. I WILL say it was better than the sadistic MRI. I def made all the people I met w/that day laugh. Blood was drawn... oh if I knew at this point just how much blood would be drawn once surgery cam around... I would have run... very far away. I have the worst fear of needles. You must know this about me and yeah, yeah, yeah... I know... I have tattoos... oh so very different. Maybe I'd like shots more if people knew how to give them & if the person administering them is hot. All the tat artists I've had work on me are super hot so... no pain... well... no pain, but you come to take me blood... I cry like a damn baby. So... with this said... I thought for the sake of this blog I would document the blood taking seeing as I thought they wouldn't be doing this again, I mean I thought it was ballsy of me. God what a dipshit misconception that was.

Well here ya go... the only blood taking you will see captured on film. The half clover made me think of a Shamrock Shake:

Honestly... pre-op was more about a sort of meet & greet w/the anesthesiologist (who by the way I didn't meet with. She was a rep for him) they ask you all sorts of invasive questions, what drugs have you done? What are you taking now prescription/recreational, your diet, how much you drink... etc., etc.

I was then sent off w/my prescription for the pre-surgery" cleanse. Keep in mind... all I could read in the prescription was Bisacodyl, something I know well of... laxative. Big whoop I did those horse size pills for my pre-op cleanse before my colonoscopy. I got this. Well since my surgery was scheduled until April 8th, that kind of change my family's original plans. See we thought when I met w/Ira on the 21st we were going to be able to schedule the surgery for the 25th. Yeah I know... none of us were thinking. We didn't know I had to get the MRI and forgot completely about the whole pre-op prior to the actual pre-op. So my brother & his family were off to Utah to ski for the kid's spring break bu they'd be back the day before surgery so for me... it was off to a nice relaxing week @ my mom's house where there are dogs a plenty running around, kitties to cuddle with & a pool to sit aside & just catch up w/mom and enjoy mother daughter time.

So on Friday April 1st, my brother & I were off on a 3 hr drive to my mom's in Aiken, SC. Good time to catch up. We had planned on picking up my prescription from CVS on the way out. Well last minute, my nephew needed a ride to something so we drove him, I got to send him off w/a hug & asked that he please be safe snowboarding on spring break & to come back in 1 piece. So goodbye's were made and we were off. Now keep in mind... not sure where the both of us got it, but my brother & I have a very heavy foot when it comes to driving, so speed limits are broken. We're in his Dodge Charger which is also the official cop car of at least the ATL. cops & his car is black so when people see him coming they move, not to mention my brother is hitting speeds... well he's going fast :) I love it. We're cruising making great time and suddenly I remember almost 2 hours in... uh oh... we forgot my prescription. No biggie we can have them resend it to a local pharmacy near my mom. Great settled.

My brother decided to pick-up my prescription & send it to my mom's. Now I won't bore you with the whole week spent w/my mom. We had a great mother daughter time. I'd prefer to keep it between us, but there were lots of laughs, one night finally of pent up tears from the both of us and then the night before we are leaving.... the package arrives w/my prescription. It's a huge box. I thought... now that's a LOT of laxatives. Or... maybe my brother through in a fun kit. So my mom & I open a bottle of wine and have our evening cheers & I decide no better time than the present to open the box. Well what I pulled out & laid my eyes upon was nothing more than an array of well... let me tell you this... my mother & I took one look at the "kit" no not a fun one, we took a sip from our wine & began laughing hysterically. Laid before me was the biggest jug that had what I can only guess was something to the likes of epsom salt, 4 "flavor" packs & 2 horse pill sized pills in a bottle. Those turned out to be the easiest to deal with. This jug... I could only question this... was I doing 36 loads of laundry? Filling up an empty tank of gas? Or was I filling a cat box. This jug per the directions was to be filled w/water to the fill line & 8oz was to be consumed every 10 minutes until contents of said jug were finished. Say what now? I looked at my mom and said there was no way. I didn't consume that much water in 2 days!!! Hell, much less that much booze on a weekend night. This was... this was ridiculous. Are you kidding me? My mom said there must be a mistake. We would call the doctor in the morning. Well here for all of you to see is just what my mother & I first laid eyes upon:

Yeah... I know... ridiculous right?

Come to the next morning. Thursday April 7th. I got hold of the chief resident Jason who informs me that I should try & drink as much of the contents as possible. I then informed him I had to make a 3 hour drive back to Cumming, GA today. How could this be done. He asks what time we plan to depart I say 3 he says begin at 2.

2pm... 1st drink... now these "flavor" packs... not all are to be used they give you 4 to choose 1 from. I have orange, lemon-lime, pineapple & cherry. Crap... I wondered if I could mix it w/vodka considering I had to begin my clear diet that day which meant nothing but clear liquids... vodka is clear as is wine. After all the jokes I chose orange. Worthless choice as would any of the 4. My first 8oz was so freakin' gross. It was salty, but not a good salty, it was... I really honestly don't know how to describe the taste. Nasty just plain and simple nasty. 2:10 2nd 8oz, 2:20 3rd, 2:30 4th... I am starting to gag now. I haven't even made a dent. This was torture. 3pm just chugged my 7th 8oz & guess what? Time to go! Oh and the 2 pills were for low potassium I had had & this would fix that and those were like cupcakes compared to this crap.

The next 3 hours should be very interesting. My mom assures me she is prepared.
Oh I was told I could mix it w/ginger ale so I did that hence the large jug. Note to self... ginger-ale + Bisacodyl = not the best idea. Whoever told me to do that... thanks for the gas!

And we were off. Every 10 minutes I am unhappily and unwillingly on it drinking the salty shit. I am bloated, about to barf, but I can't do that because then I'd have to start all over... oh mother of god make it stop. Is this worse than the MRI? In a differnt way. I can't understand why I had to do this. I had pills for my colonoscopy... my COLON needed to be clean for that I get it, but for removal of internal objects? Really? Really? I deserved a hug by this point. Then...
Yep... 1st stop! There actually and amazingly only a total of 3 stops before we got to my brother's, but they were stops never to be forgotten. Also now keep in mind I have gotten almost 3/4 of the way through & my mom said I could probably give it a rest. I gladly did. We get to my brother's in no sooner time... I need to go potty & damn I need a cigarette, but have none. Life was cruel. After the 4th bathroom visit I went up to my nephew's room & threw myself on the floor to him begging him to drive his Auntie Laurie to get cigarettes. He's 16 has his license & loves any chance he can get to drive so I knew he'd oblige. I love my nephew. Now keep in mind... I have had NOTHING I mean NOTHING to eat & I am cranky & hungry. I buy some Smartfood. I think... a few bites won't hurt. Incidentally... it didn't. We get home & cocktail hour has begun w/out me which makes me cranky cause I needed to catch up. Yes... my doc said I could have some wine since it's clear. Well I had 3, tried ignoring the yummy smells emanating from everyon's plate. Me... I had beef broth & was eating no sodium beef boullion from a mini packet. Hey I was hungry! Then it was time... time to take a xanax & be prepapred to wake up at 4am (about 4 1/2 hrs from now) to be at Emory by 5:30am to get prepped from my 7:30am surgery. Oh joy! Before I went to bed I had a few very tearful calls w/friends. This was all very real now & I was scared shitless. I wanted to turn back, not pass go & go directly to jail rather than to surgery. Oh fuck why??? What am I being taught here? Please don't tell me this is some god intervention thing. I can't handle this I want to go home. Hell... I'd rather be at work than go through this. I'll sit through all the Twilight movies for a week rather than deal w/this. Ok, ok... I'll eat more vegetables, less meat, drink le... oh screw that. That is my vice... anything, anything but getting sliced open. Can't they vacuum it out? Can I have a do-over? Can I wake up now. PLEASE? I'll try to be a better person, I'll spread the word, I'll do all the runs and walks for cancer... I'll sponsor a child... Hell a whole village in Africa... please... ANYTHING... don't put me under & cut me up.

To be continued...

In the meantime sisters & brothers as I keep pleading... please check yourself before... screw wrecking yourself... check yourself before you're placed in this situation. Avoid this at all costs so go get checked cause early detection is key!

Ovaries Out! (this is still to be determined by the way)

MRI Don't Likey At All!

Ok... so what sadistic inventor came up w/the MRI? Is it REALLY necessary to have all of the different menacing, loud noises occur during the process? It's bad enough I'm in a tube the size of... oh I don't know... a birth canal, but to place on top of it the sounds... it's again... sadistic. Hey I have an idea... let's make a machine to look inside of a human, but let's make it fun! Let's put them on a moving flat bed, conveyor like belt that pulls you into a tube the size of a birth canal, then let's add a certain, something special kind of sound. Something to the likes of oh I don't know... a bandsaw & make it super loud so it gives the patient a comfy cozy feeling like they are being pulled towards a huge revolving saw that will split them in 2 beginning at the skull! Yeah that's it! And then let's pull them back a few moves, then forwards, then back & then stop, have them hold their breath, then release a deafening alarm like sound that makes you think the hospital is being evacuated & you're being forgotten. Left to your own mind's devices. But then... there is the ever constant presence of this chirping like noise. Mweep, mweep, mweep, mweep...

But let's go back to before the chamber of horror & discontent & begin with the waiting because as the song goes... the waiting is the hardest part. So BOTH my brother & his wife come with me. I fill out more paperwork. People... I have filled the same crap out 3x's now. Can we stop already? Don't ya keep copies? Krikey! Then it was time to wait to hear my name called & that is the worst because I see people go by & I am reminded that others have it much worse off than I & it upsets me because I worry I am taking away precious time they need so that Pootwa & I are attended to. Keep in mind... I FEEL fine. No pain, nothing, nada & there are people who are so riddled w/cancer being wheelchaired by me & I just feel like they can have my space & time. I'm making cupcakes w/my niece while they're barely unable to take a step forward or breath in a solid, good full breath. So as I wait I notice the reception area & I snapped it and thought... yes... Exit stage left (If you know the whole theater term, you'd know what looks like our right is actually the actor's left. Sorry boring tid-bit, but in case you look at the pic & say the arrow is pointing right... well blah, blah, blah) But really all I could think was... Exit? Um yes thank you very much.
Finally my name is called & I am taken into a room where I am given an xtr lrg top & bottom that is disposable which cracks me up, but not as much as the actual sight of me after I have donned the only most sexy outfit EVER! Seriously... I ask you... why am I single? I mean this is a sure thing if ya ask me! Add some stilettos & hello night life!
Am I right or am I right? Well it was all fun & games until Michael my murse... YES MURSE... hands me very awesome socks that have great grip on them. Oh yeah I kept them, happily placed them on my footsies & w/no argument, obliged Michael's wishes to recline & settle into the chair, but I believe he handed them to me to obviously sweet talk me into not thinking about the next step that was needed to be taken. I had no idea they needed to inject a solution for the MRI. Well they did, but not immediately. What I had the pleasure of receiving was this lil' number which did not tickle and the thing is... YES I have tattoos, but to this day I hate... HATE shots of any kind, much less a needle that goes in & remains. As Michael stuck the needle in, my feet just went crazy. Michael made a remark to the likes of look at your feet go. I let him know that they were most certainly NOT happy feet in any way, shape or form. At this point I really wanted to wake up from this nightmare & go home. To my dismay, this was not the case. Instead I look over at my right arm and see this:
I don't like this one bit! Uh uh no way! Then Michael says he needs to go find out if "they're" ready for me. Who? The aliens that want to probe my body? Sick bastards. So here I am, trying to relax, waiting & waiting & waiting and then... it hits me... I have to pee. Ok so do I need to keep my arm level? If I let it fall will blood squirt? Is there an open/close valve on the thing? I said fuck it & bolted for the potty, did my thang while keeping my arm positioned just as you see it in the picture. One armed bandit pee-er... oh yeah... I got this one down. I get back to my chair & still no Michael. Finally a wonderful woman who's name escapes me as I could barely understand what it was through her amazingly calm Jamaican accent. Oh ya mon... she was Jamaican & she could have told me to eat shit & I would have as her voice was just that trust worthy & again... extremely calming. We walk into the big room that has a room connected which I swear looked like a recording studio & wouldn't ya know it... a hot guy sitting amongst 5 women. Great... NOW you bring in the hot guy, when I am sporting this year's oh-so stylish disposable ER scrubs... in EXTRA LARGE no less. Oh yeah... he was hooked & SO wanted to ask me out. Life is just one cruel bitch with a seriously sick sense of humor. I'm not laughing.

I am informed I can listen to music, but what style would I prefer. I joked & said heavy metal because I felt it would drown out the noises I hear are extremely disturbing & nerve wracking. I then said... just play alternative please. I go into the room, but not before requesting a pic or 2 be taken for this blog. Trying to document the best I can. Mindy, a very sweet, yet quite butch of a girl offers to do the honors. Hey... let's be honest... if Mindy was a guy... she'd be hot! See nothing like an iPhone is allowed in the actual room w/the MRI machine. Sorry Steve... until you develop an iMRI... it's a no go for you. All I can say is thank goodness I did yoga this morning because I had to first have my legs propped up in a bent position & then once in the machine, I had to take a deep breath & hold it in without exhaling, more than a few times, but I'm getting ahead of the pics. Here is the series of pics Mindy took. The last is yet another example of why I ask... WHY am I single? I mean Jason Statham could have all this.
I mean I ask you... Who would not want to transport this ass? Jason? I hear Transporter 4 calling baby & I am available!

So now you're caught up to speed to where I began. The thing I hadn't mentioned yet though was the solution that I was getting injected. Now you probably can't tell in the pics, but I had a tube connected to probably one of the biggest tubes/syringe (not needle, but the big tube part... I'm not a medical expert so forgive my ignorance on terms. It is bliss after all) There are 2 side by side & I thought... damn... I'm gonna have to pee like a racehorse after getting all of that injected. So I am thinking it began flowing through me from the start. WRONG! Oh so wrong it isn't even funny. I have now gone forwards, backwards, backwards, backwards, forwards, forwards, no wait... backwards again... hold the breath, release the breath... Don't speak... I know what your thinking, today is the greatest day I'll ever know... yeah I had No Doubt, Smashing Pumpkins, a bit of Nirvana along w/Sublime & the Chili Peppers following along with me during this whole rollercoaster process and then... just as Blues Travelers' Run Around... Once upon a midnight dreary... that soothing Jamaican voice comes over my headphones (which incidentally were made entirely of plastic) informs me that I am almost done... they just need to now inject the solution. Wait... what? What is it with you medical people and all of your surprises? A little notice here? Maybe a cocktail to curtail the sudden brought on fear??? Fuck me gently w/your damn solution! CHRIST! I am then informed that I may smell or taste something unpleasant. Uh you forgot to warn me that I also may FEEL a MAJOR sensation of unpleasantness. Yeah... you ever watch liquid flow through a tube? Or how about through an old skool crazy straw? Picture that & then imagine THAT sensation then traveling into & through your arm. Oh yeah... that's what I felt & right about then is when the new sound came through. The only way I can best describe it is like this... remember those old horror/monster movies where the mad scientist has two metal poles & like bolts of electricity are flowing up & down between them making that electric whomp, whomp, whomp sound? Yeah... well that was I was experiencing AND this is while John Popper is asking me why I wanna give him the run around? I don't know John... maybe because I got some "solution" running through my damn body. GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

Finally the ride has come to a complete stop & all hands & feet were still inside the vehicle in tact & I am released from the lil' shop of needle horrors, escorted back to the room where my clothes were & told I was done. I got out to my brother & his wife, my sister-in-law who incidentally has become a better sister/friend to me than my own. We have seriously bonded it's been great. Anyhoo... we get in the car I am done for now, but not able to forget the realistic fact that on April 8th I will be cut open & pieces will be removed. All I honestly can think is... I need a drink.

Um sadly... Auntie Laurie forgot it's my nephew's away game tonight against a school which is called the Raiders. I will say this... they sadly kicked my nephew's team's butt, but I will give them this... they played hard, had amazing skills AND FINALLY I saw a good use for that horrendous Oakland Raiders' flag! Did I also mention (no I know I didn't) tonight was ridiculously cold even for a girl from LA's standards? Well it was.

I will say this... I have made it home in one piece, I am enjoying an extremely cold beverage of the beer type & in comfy clothes & was given probably one of the coolest mud facials by my sister-in-law tonight. I feel ok, but this is when I become 100% honest with anyone bothering to read this... today made me really scared & really aware this is not some easy procedure to go through. Yes I know it IS NOT brain surgery & I am sorry for those who have to go through that. BUT... it's still surgery & it's scary & I'm scared and yes... thankful I have my family here to support me, but I miss my friends... YES I miss my many kitty cats as I have stated before (crazy cat lady... cue the carousel music) It's tough because I still feel I'm a lil' alone because everyone around me still has to go on with their daily lives & I would never expect anything less, but man... I wish I had a partner in cancer crime to just be around day in & day out who gets IT. Who gets me... if that even makes sense. This morning... I actually really got next to no sleep last night, but I knew I was to go to this yoga class this morning at 9am & I wanted to back out because I felt old, ugly, past my prime & alone & it scared me, but then I got up & told myself to shut-up because no one likes a quitter & those who know me know I hate people who bitch & moan & say whoa-is-me because only YOU can make your life better & change it etc. So I got up, sweated maybe a cm off my ass, but I went.

It's not easy, but it's life & I don't want to be told tomorrow that let's say Friday is my last day here because I still haven't done enough. I want more, I want it now... which is my prblem... hence my invention of the saying Veruca Salt syndrome. In reality I guess all good things come to those who wait? Screw that... there's no better time than the present!

With that said... goodnight and again, brothers, sisters, boys & girls... early detection is key! Do IT! Check yourself before you wreck yourself & end up feeling the solution in your veins :)

Love to you all & thank you SO much for the support.

Ovaries Out!

-Laurie

Georgia On My Mind!

Hello Dawcta Ira... Can We Tawk?

Yeah well.. talking w/Dr. Ira Horowitz brought a lot more fear into me than expected. I had been doing great mentally before having to attend my scheduled "consultation" w/Dr. Ira Horowitz on Monday March 21st. @ 9:40am. I had been pleasantly & quietly enjoying time w/ my brother & his family up until this point. I was beginning to truly experience what family time is all about and me being the total family introvert... I was really digging it! My mind was beginning to decompress... my body felt... well it felt better. I was/am bonding w/my sister-in-law & am just really enjoying a quality of life I guess I never thought I was worthy of having. I seriously have looked back at my working life. You know how you get that Social Security letter every year that tells you if you were to retire at this point in time this is what you would make? Well I have been receiving that thing for years! Years! I have learned that I have worked 40 hrs if not plus jobs since 1984. 27 years baby. Yeah that's right... 27 freakin' years! Nell Carter... YOU need to Gimme A Break girl cuz this gurl is spent. Sadly, it took Cancer to make me realize that one... I have stressed, sweated, over compensated, kissed ass, suffered, tolerated, done whatever it takes to get the job done. I have most definitely performed a job well done & I need to finally STOP thinking about whether or not my job will tolerate my leave & take care of me. That's SUPER hard for me mind you. I stress on a daily basis to this current post about my job position & job security. I mean come on... we all know there is always someone who could possibly do it better or differently than you & we are ALL easily replaced. THAT scares me in and of itself. I mean let's be honest... I'm no rocket scientist, anyone could perform my job, but I made it my own & I'd like to think I owned it and still own it, but as stated in the past... this Cancer has been nothing but a major inconvenience to me.

With that said... we can now fall on to the day of meeting Ira. Ugh... that drive w/my big brother to Emory University Hospital was so grueling. He was as always a cool cat. I was a ball of stress, if a kitten came around they'd play w/my tummy as it was moving so insane like it was not even funny. Butterflies? Um no... I had 2 rabid dogs fighting in my belly.

We arrive @ Building C & I get let off while my brother finds parking. I go to the desk announce myself & am informed Dr. Horowitz is in Building A. Uh.. wait... what??? I'm con-fuzed sir. Me don't likey this news. This does not compute & it adds more fuel to the fighting dogs in my belly. I call my brother to inform him as he is currently parking. He says no prob & to wait for him. I stand there & people walk by as I am holding a grossly orange colored folder I grabbed from home & I see obvious Cancer patients. The ones I feel are in more need of care than myself. You know the ones. Very skinny, scarves on heads, sunken eyes. It KILLED me! I thought great... all I need now is a 3 year old in a bandanna to cross my path. I lost it. Yes... I burst into tears, but remembered my big brother was on his way so I had to get my game face on. Show no pain, show no mercy. Hell... sweep the damn leg attitude is what this chick needed. Pootwa was already shaking & aching. Oh did I mention... Flo decided to visit one last time for prosperity's sake. OF COURSE she did. Miserable bitch!

So... we walk to Building A. I fill the necessary paperwork out & wait. While I wait, there is this beautiful woman sitting in a wheelchair obviously riddled w/Cancer. Her legs are so thin, her weakness is so apparent & her wig was gorgeous! I so wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, but felt it wasn't right. It wasn't the proper time. Or was it? To this day I question if I should have complimented her or not and feel regretful that I had not done just that. Then I hear it... "Laurie Woolfe" I stand up, my brother had gone to grab coffee so I text him & inform him I have his bag & am being moved to yet another waiting room where I proceed to fill out the story of my medical life. This is a joke in and of itself since as I have stated earlier, I haven't been the most upright health conscious, regular check up kinda gal. My brother arrives & notices there are pamphlets describing certain things such as Hysterectomies which he promptly reaches for. I grab a few, but choose not to scare myself further w/the realities of all such procedures, experiences etc. I will be experiencing. Out of mind out of sight is still my thinking.

Then it's time for my consultation. It's to start... w/a resident who's name passes through my head like the info of who's on first. He asks if I mind if my brother is present during questioning I inform him... he's my brother there are no secrets. I get asked this & that & then... how many sexual partners have you had? Um... choke, cough, redness falls upon my face and finally... "No comment". Look people... I'm no saint & to say you all much less my brother needs to know that fact is just noneya! You hear me?

Then it's back to the waiting room #2. I wait & then I am called into a room where I am told to dis-robe. Wait... you have all of my paperwork, why is another exam necessary? Well enter Dr. Ira Horowitz... along w/2 other residents. I have my feet in the stirrups... Jockeys take your mark, get set.. & exam. It seemed all good except I forgot to mention I had my period so that meant a different way of "searching" the Pootwa. It all was good & fine... the cold clamp/tire lift as I refer to that device, but then... it was shoving up the normal area & then suddenly... HELLO! WHOA... you just went into the back door! I screamed so loud, I'm surprised LA didn't hear it. Wait, what? Who? What? Where? When? WHYYYY? Dr. Ira! At least buy me a drink before going there. I did NOT find that move necessary AT ALL! AND... I have never had a reverse move like that performed on me. EVER! This day has turned into a very unpleasant experience.

Then it's time to finally "consult" w/Ira. My brother has written down questions. Bless him because I am still getting over the back door experience so I'm a tad muddled. Essentially I hear much of what I have been told already until the fact that laparoscopic surgery is NOT an option which means I look forward to a lovely bikini line slicing AND I was asked to sign a release waiver stating I give permission for Ira to not only remove the uterus, cervix & a whole lotta lymph nodes, but I am now told my ovaries could possibly be removed. Ira informs me he won't know until he knows what he is looking at. Ok 1st the bikini line slice... I was hoping for the whole laparoscopic procedure because it meant less recovery time & less invasive surgery. Ira informed me because it's at the bikini line it could be hidden. I replied, "Well thank Gawd for that because my Sports Illustrated Bikini Modeling career was far from over." Are you kidding me? I could care less about a fucking scar! I care about the fact I am ACTUALLY going to really be sliced/cut into. THAT scares me! I will not lie... THAT scares the FUCK out of me. Yeah I said FUCK cuz I am THAT scared. But hey... this is what this blog is all about. I am doing my best to include everyone on this journey & get you engaged into EVERYTHING I experience. The good, the bad, the hilarious & well... the scary as fuck crap. I am also informed I have to get an abdominal, chest & cervical MRI. Oh goody. I can't wait to enter the tube. I mean this isn't my Blue Crush/North Shore moment. I am hardly riding the tube. I hear these things can be quite unpleasant. So that's this coming Monday the 28th then Wednesday the 30th I go to do pre-op where I meet my anesthesiologist. Please if there is a god... make him cute. Hey... a girl can dream right?

So ok... waiver signed I then discover I can't get surgery until April 8th. Oh like that didn't send all sorts of stress flying throughout my entire body because I had informed my work I thought I'd have an earlier date & oh yeah forgot to mention... recovery time from the bikini slashing radical hysterectomy requires a 6-8 week period. This means longer time away from work & more importantly... time from my home. Away from my friends, my putty tats & my just all around comfort of home. I have informed my HR dept. of the change, all seems acceptable, but I can't lie that I'm not nervous. Oh & now that whole month long preparations/packing... all shot to Hell. Wardrobe?

So now... now we wait & in the meantime I enjoy life & make due & tomorrow I will inform everyone of what that time has been made up of & I feel FINALLY I may have this damn blog caught up to as current time as possible. I DO feel guilty that I have this free time before surgery. I mean is it wrong to relax like this when I have a job? Should I be taking care of someone else's stuff before I take care of mine? I answer this by saying yes I should. I mean the tough get tougher. As they say in Monty Python's Holy Grail... "It's only a flesh wound!" I don't know. I feel guilty about having Cancer. I know others tell me to care about me, but I have always been one to care for others it's just weird. But... I do what I do, type what I type & live life best I can & to it's fullest right now & try to convince myself the guilt is ridonculous!

So tomorrow/today on East Coast time which I currently reside... I bid you all a goodnight/morning & do my best to promise to enter more on a regular basis. I AM going to a car show today w/my nephew which isn't necessarily something that scares me, but not something I'd normally do, but hey... it's family & who knows... maybe there is a chance to win a kick-ass car. Again... another example of a girl's dream.

As I always say... brothers & sisters, ladies & gents... early detection is KEY! Check yourself before you wreck yourself & become like me.

Love to all that are following.

Ovaries Out!

-L

Plane, Pain & Pootwa!

Ever try packing for a month's stay? Yeah? Well good for you you deserve a prize because for me it was hard as Hell. Getting my proverbial house in order was a lot harder than I was quite prepared for. There's laundry to be done, necessary provisions for my friend Stephanie who is caring for my babies & home needed, proper goodbyes to be said, drinks to be had & let's not even get into the actual act of packing. Ok I knew Atlanta was having better weather than LA, but turns out... um... I still packed wrong. Anyone who is familiar w/the movie Mr. Mom will appreciate this analogy. In the movie Michael Keaton's character is driving his kids to school for the first time & of course the poor bastard goes the wrong way & not only are his kids informing him he is going the wrong way, but mothers are too. Finally one woman rolls down her window... yes there was one time in life you actually, physically had to hand roll down & up your car window. Anyways, now that I've pointed out that I am a dinosaur, I will continue. The mother rolls down her window & Keaton's character thinks she's going to say "hi" and she looks at him w/this scowl and states quite matter of factly w/a hint of bitch... "You're doing it wrong!"

With that said... I felt I was doing it wrong. All of it! Thursday Morning arrives, Prime Time Shuttle picks me up @ 5:40am on the dot. I love them because they arrive on time & get you to your destination w/so much time to spare it isn't even funny. So I arrive & check in & of course I have to check my massive suitcase which incidentally I got for $50 & could fit myself along w/a few friends in it. It's huge. Again... a month's stay equals a lotta stuff. I get up to the counter to hand over my bag after having just paid the stupid $25 baggage fee & I am suddenly informed that I am 14 lbs overweight. Say what now? The guy then proceeds to ask if I would like to discard the excess 14 lbs. I replied back, "Where exactly do you suggest I put the excess 14 lbs? My ass?" I was now agitated & told the guy that there was no where to put it so what's the damage? The damage... the damage was $90. This is on top of the $25 I just paid. I was to say the least... NOT a happy camper. THEN it's off to security. I walk through just fine, but am asked to step aside so they can check my carry on bag. This guy informs me I can not at any time touch anything in the bag while he searches it. Um.. ok... not a problem, you're the one who has to go through a bunch of lacy bootie shorts (for comfort after my surgery... I mean if you have to wear an uncomfortable pad to begin with, ya need a lil' feminine comfort to boot... no pun intended) So back to security guy... he takes only what can be described as a tab like object, the kind you pull from a "Take A Number" machine... and he starts essentially giving my bag a swabbing like it's for a paternity test or something. Finally he grabs this satin pouch I have that is filled w/all my "good" jewelry. THIS is the culprit? The family jewels! See you have to understand this is a tad ironic because just the day before BOTH my mother & sister-in-law recommended either I hide my good jewelry or have a friend hold on to it since I'd be gone for so long in case of a robbery. I just thought bring it. I mean it's hardly the crown jewels, but I do have some very important & cherished pieces. Anyhoo... THIS is what causes security to check my bag. I then asked If I get the same treatment next, the guy looked at me & scowled & I said, "Can't blame a girl for tryin' I mean you can't rape the willing can ya?"

Keep in mind that day was St. Paddy's Day, so not only was it acceptable to have a cocktail before 7:30am, at this point after what I went through, it was NECESSARY! So I'm sitting enjoying a very spicy Bloody Mary (Breakfast of champs) I could swear I just saw Kevin Connelly of Entourage pass by. Nah... I had to be wrong. I know it's LA, but what celeb travels that early? It would be unheard of in my mind since they're all such lil' needy pansies. Time passes & it's time to board and as I walk through 1st class who do I see sitting in a window seat trying to conceal himself... Kevin Connelly himself. He's cute, but definitely a lil' guy. I get to my seat & just crash. Later I DO see Kevin walk by this time w/a baseball hat & sunglasses on going towards the bathroom. Ok celebrities... do you REALLY think we can't notice you because you are donning a hat & glasses? I mean it's like Hannah Montana... Blonde/Brunette... come on! It's the same girl. Are you REALLY that dumb? I find that show insulting in and of itself for that simple fact, yet I was at one time guilty of watching the show... constantly!

When I awake I am touching down in Atlanta airport where incidentally my brother is flying in from San Fran. He texts me & tells me to meet him in baggage claim. So I get off the plane & begin travels towards baggage when who do I see coming the opposite direction? Kevin Connelly! Now I kid you not, but he gives me the ol' up down checkout locks eyes w/me & gives the most panty soaking smile at least I could ever receive! He def is a charmer with that smile. Needless to say that smile washed away any crap that affected me earlier that morning.
I mean... he is cute. A tad Hobbit sized, but cute.

Anyhoo... I make it to baggage & meet up w/my brother & we're off to his home which is just outside of Atlanta. I am relaxing already knowing I am safe & sound w/my big brother. He has always been there for me. He is my protector, my hero. HE is the real reason I think I'm single because they say girls usually look to marry a man like their dad, since mt dad wasn't always around (parents divorced when I was young. He's a great guy don't get me wrong, but my brother was just there more) it was my brother that I always looked for in other guys. Needless to say none of my exes were my brother. And why? Because there is only one... and he's my brother & he's taken. I love him so much I am thrilled I get to spend this much time with him. I'm very lucky.

So we get to his house & essentially only have time to drop off my bags & pick his wife up as my nephew's lacrosse game is getting ready to start. Lacrosse is one of my favorite sports as I played it from Jr. High all the way to college. It's a great sport & aside from soccer... in my opinion has some of the best looking players. Ok, but for me to go to a high school game w/this thought... not right at all. After the game was over & some of the BOYS took their shirts off... Oh forget it I just felt dirty & wrong. When did high school boys begin to look like this??? It's just not right. Now... I would NEVER... EVER dream of being w/anyone super young. I did it once, he was 25 relax! He knows who is as as do my friends... great guy, but yes... young. BUT... with these high school boys I kinda see why the whole hot for teacher thing in the reverse could happen. AGAIN... I'm just sayin', but not in any way considering so no need to alert the authorities.

So... LAX game ends, we come home to what is an AMAZING dinner of steak cooked by my brother. I am quickly learning w/the kid's schedules of sports, my brother & his family eat quite late, but hey... I'm still on West Coast time so I indulge. And then it's time to sleep. I slept like I hadn't in years and it was pure bliss.

I am doing my best to play catch up & bring everyone to the current time, but still so much has occurred it's just hard. Tomorrow I will catch everyone up w/my actual meet & greet w/Dr. Ira & give the current situation a once over. I promise.

Until then... I say it again.. Ladies & Gents, Sisters & Brothers... EARLY DETECTION is KEY! Check yourself before you wreck yourself cause let's be honest... Cancer is so bad for yourself!

Love to all that are following, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your comments, words of encouragement & just all around love is so greatly appreciated. More than you may know.

Until the next post...

Ovaries Out!

-L

If it's not one thing it's your vagina!

*Please note this post has been a bit of a work in progress & yes a bit outdated, but I will keep future posts up to date & more frequently...

I know I had started out thinking, possibly even voicing that I would write often... well that has gone all to Hell now hasn't it? And again one asks... why is she single? I DO do my best to follow through, but it seems the only time I am capable of doing so is at work & not in my own personal life. Anyhoo... much has happened & I will mention the one snide, bitching session & then move on as I know harboring anger & disdain for anything... concentrating on the negative... well it's just not healthy & not something one should do. Move on, get over it & get on with life... "go forward... move ahead... try to detach it... it's not to late... to whip it... whip it good!" Thank you DEVO! Words to live by... BUT... one last lashing. I mean come on... I can't resist cause I'm that snarky of gal.

After my blog went "live" as the blogging society calls it... or do they? Oh who knows? Anyhow, after my blog went live... YES... I sent a snide, snarky, punchy email to sister making her aware of the life that is this blog. I essentially let her know this "storm" would not be passing her way & that she & her husband could rest assure of this fact & go on taking care of their daily lives. Then I speak w/my mom who informs me sister has contacted both she & my brother since the fact. Keep in mind... with out me going into the whole boring diatribe that is my family history, my sister is of no relation to my mother or my brother. She sends yet another email that yet again is all about her mind you, stating something to the fact that I am trying to "humiliate" her through my blog. Uh... yeah... it's called freedom of speech, I'm pissed (was pissed now just over it, but for the sake of that time... well you get it) I was hurt horribly & to hear my family... MY family is still being bothered with her just annoyed me. And sister of course requested that they don't forward that email as I would most likely include it in my blog... what point of this blog haven't you learned from yet? Grow a spine! You're my OLDER sister... act it! I just love how she reached out & STILL made it about her! But that's it... the last I mention of her & that part of my petty drama. That's all I have to say about that (yes... thank you Forrest Gump!)

NOW... we move forward... the last week at work was all about training the temp who would take over for me during my absence. My brother... MY brother... seriously... one of the most amazing human beings one could ever... EVER be worthy to know, much less be related to. He took control, handled everything & got me to where I am going now. I am going to Emory University hospital & am meeting with my new surgeon on the 21st. My surgeon? Even my Jewish friends allow me to snicker at this... Ira Horowitz! I'm meeting w/Ira! I love, LOVE the name. So much so, one can't help but say it w/a sort of Jersey Jew like manner. Ira.. hello... how are you?

So now I'm off to Atlanta on March 17th. St. Paddy's Day... how appropriate. Let's send off an Irish, Scottish, English descendant properly. I'll be drinking & fighting with myself while doing it all w/proper manners. But here's the thing... I made a conscious decision to try & do something every day until then that was out of my comfort zone. I went to a death metal show... interesting... I will say this about death metal people, they seem to hold this stance of fear & an evil likeness and yet... I met a few that night and they are quite sweet. I can only describe it as this... picture this... scary Nathan Explosion from Metalocolypse belting a growling scream, "SATAN, SATAN, SAT... oh look a kitten!" Seriously... great guys. Next night it was hanging w/a neighbor I always had a bit of disdain for due to his late night schedule and yet he greets me outside our complex with, "Hey Laurie... want some meat?" Um... yeah Matt... how can I say no to your meat. Let it be known this guy wants to be a chef & this Kobe beef & his drenched ribs were AMAZING! Oh and to top it all off... BIG Cancer survivor. The guy had 3 of the hardest years & they almost lost him, but he's back & kickin' it! Next night... drinks in Silverlake w/my Colombian friend Alex to hang w/a guy who does sound for Motorhead. And no... Colombian friend is not code for the bad stuff. Alex is very real & a fantastic friend who I adore & cherish. Then... new paragraph starts :)

Friday comes. This is my last day at work & I am making preparations to tie up lose ends. Our company is having an early spring BBQ to celebrate hard work well recognized & usually when we have occasions like this I always keep cool, don't drink a drop of booze as I know I'd be tired & have to maintain an inkling of responsibility. Yeah... not today. It was my last so... all bets are off, BUT I still refused to make an ass of myself. Oh no need for that. I have... and I am SO lucky to work with some of the most amazing people. I ended up getting a send off and boy was it the send off to end all. You all remember "Kenny" right? Well Kenny reappeared in the form of a cake that had Kenny's image on top & was filled w/the most luscious, moist red velvet cake filling. I was beside myself. The following pics reveal the day...

So... as you can see Kenny came, was seen & was devoured w/much delight! It was the send-off to be all, BUT... then... my friend Anne & her husband J.C. gave me this present which just literally took the cake...
Can ya stand it? It's an ovary & uterus! Great way to be sent off from work.

Now time to prep for Atlanta which will be my next blog!

REMEMBER: Detection is perfection! The earlier the better. Ladies & Gents... please... go out there, make the appt. w/your docs & just be safe.

Ovaries Out!