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Suppositories and Negotiations

Suppositories and Negotiations

I have heard that the United States is in the midst of a “health-care” crisis.  No shit.  I blame tonsils and their little bitch friends: adenoids.

Suppositories and Negotiations
from Life

Do NOT underestimate the wrath of a tonsil or an adenoid.  Those seemingly harmless protuberances of tissue have stealthily developed nuclear weapons, created an army of Kim Jong’s North Korean clones complete with weird flag ceremonies and then sit there, waiting, planning, collecting tiny bits of bacteria . . .  And then with the fury of an ex-wife trying to get the coffee table back you bought while honeymooning in Acapulco, THEY WAGE A VICIOUS, UNSUSPECTING ATTACK . . .

I have heard that the United States is in the midst of a “health-care” crisis.  No shit.  I blame tonsils and their little bitch friends: adenoids.  These notoriously useless flaps of slime have allied themselves with tonsils to make themselves appear to be tougher, cooler body parts like the LIVER or the PANCREAS or the great almighty HEART. Frankly, I am surprised that George Bush has not drafted all ear, nose, and throats docs and waged a war on pharynx terrorism.  Anyway . . .

My daughter had her tonsils and adenoids removed on Monday.  I am currently perusing Craig’s List for a new set of adrenal glands since mine are SHOT.  In seven years of parenting I have never been more scared or felt more vulnerable than I did last week.  We followed every direction, properly dispensed every medication, kissed her, held her and told her we loved her.  I spoke with various doctors and allowed my intuition to be overridden but I knew she was not getting better.  By her third hospital visit for yet another IV, I had reached a point of near hysteria.  I threw a temper tantrum that would shame a three year old and demanded they run a blood panel and then FINALLY they admitted her.  She is home now, well on the road to recovery and I am once again basking in the harmonious sound of arguing sisters.

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Now interestingly enough on the day of my daughter’s surgery, we received the long awaited offer on our house that we have been trying to sell . . . for 60K LESS than the asking price and for the first time in a long time I did not give a shit.  Mike and our broker were PISSED.  Negotiations continued for a few days until ultimately the people walked because they were mad we would not simply give them our house (sad face).  For some reason I found this amusing and filed it away in my mental rolodex to deal with at a later date. (Please note, to date I have "handled" this situation in true Erin form however in lieu of some transpiring details AKA a REALISTIC OFFER, I have temporarily removed this section of my blog.)  

I also decided I needed an office yesterday.  I have been writing more lately and I need my own personal space, so I started clearing out half of the pantry.  When Mike came home, I asked him for an extension cord to snake under the door to the outlet in the living room. He asked me what I was doing.  I told him I needed to move the printer in there because I am the only one in the house without a room of my own.  I share a bedroom with him, the kids each have their own rooms, he has the garage, his office is too messy for me to concentrate and the basement is communal.  He asked me “Why the pantry?”  And I said because whenever one of our children wants food they say “Mooooooooooooooooooooom I’m hungry” and I say “Go look in the pantry” and they say “There is nothing good in there” and I say “Did you look?” and they say “No, can you get us something?”  They don’t even know it exists!  It is the IDEAL office space complete with a light, shelves and a stepstool! 

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So there you have it.  Oh yes, and I gave a suppository.  I realized those high school aptitude tests were somewhat accurate.  I would make a horrible nurse.  I was freaked out when I had to give one to my kid.  I could only imagine if some 250 lb. drunk, hairy, bastard came stumbling into the emergency room covered in vomit and it was my job to stick something up his butt.  I would be like “Shhhhh, listen I just heard Jesus calling you.  He says Coooooooooome Hoooooooome.”  Disgusting.  XO

P.S.  Thank you my beloved friends and family for rallying around us this past week.  Your support and love was astonishing and I am truly, truly blessed to have all of you in my life.  With Gratitude- E      

 

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Erin Moroni - ErinSays I am a writer, parent, and generally loose in the world. Yes, I meant what I said. Whatever. I handled it.
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