Note: The "Trooper" in question is not actually in the military. It's a metaphor, people.

March 31, 2009

It's Not You....

Since most of my life at the moment consists of all things bathroom-related (delicately getting in and out of bed to go to and from on my walker, stuffing myself with all things fiber to try to "make things happen" -- and being continually disappointed with the results), I am going to step back from Dating is Warfare for awhile. Unless you guys really want to know about my bathroom habits, pill intake, and nap lengths, and I suspect you don't.

Judging from my last posting - and the fact that I even thought it appropriate to post at all-- and my overly sensitive reaction to people's comments and opinions, I think it's time we take a break until I'm in a better place. Nothing personal. It's not you, it's me. I promise, I'll call you soon.

If you really miss me, I will be posting here and there at my ChickenheadsKnit blog since knitting will be my new best friend once I get the bathroom thing settled and I stop having double vision from all these painkillers.

Otherwise, dismissed.

*Thanks to those of you who sent me supportive messages this week. Very thoughtful (and helpful).

March 29, 2009

Ouch - Literally and Emotionally

Hello from the drugged up side. I made it through my surgery and six loooong days in the hospital. Now I'm home at my mom's being waited on by both her and Wine Guy. Sounds nice in theory but in reality it's a powerless position to be in and I'm cranky about it - probably because I'm due for more painkillers (which I'll take as soon as I hit publish).

Catching up on the comments I received from my last blog entry, one in particular really knocked me in the gut. Probably because it is the last thing I need to hear right now - and probably because she is right. However, I am not supposed to be thinking about such major life issues while dealing with a broken body (or so my shrink tells me). But is she right?

For all I know, this could be a comment from someone I know personally who is finally (and anonymously) telling me what she's had on her mind for months. Or she really is just a anonymous person, tired of hearing other people whine and suffer about their relationships when she saw how easy it can be when it's right.

Anyway, I'm ready for drugs and a doze so I'll put it out there for your opinions. Read the original post (linked to above) if you haven't already. And here is Anon's comment:

Man, when are you going to DUMP this guy? I mean seriously. This guy has to have had some clue about the relation of this party to a wedding shower. In the time that I started reading this blog about a year ago, I started dating a man, and am now engaged to him. There ARE men who want to get married. I dated a guy for about 4 years prior to this relationship, and he was wonderful and loving and did anything I wanted him to... but he did not want to get married. Don't give too many years to a guy who's afraid to LIVE LIFE. My two cents. Glad you have someone to take care of you. But seriously. If you want kids, your ovaries are drying up. If you don't, well, you're getting wrinkly.

March 21, 2009

Powering Down

It feels like I spent this past week "powering down" my life. Canceling my parking permit. Paying all my bills before the deadlines. Writing out instructions for my co-workers. Basically it feels like I'm moving away, or preparing to die. Thank goodness I'm just having surgery that I will heal from. But I will be out of the loop of life for a few months and it's a strange sensation to pare everything down, knowing you will be doped up, immobile and miles away from your real life.

But before I began this surreal process, I gathered my closest friends together for the now infamous "hip shower” last Saturday. I am so, so happy I decided to go ahead with it. At first it felt kind of lame - throwing yourself a party is a weird enough, but celebrating having your hip bone cut out, moved and pinned back together (click here for info about the procedure I am having done)? Yeah, not your normal sort of celebratory event.



Preparing for the shower with my mom was stressful and a hell of a lot of work. We treated it like a real shower - gifts, party favors, games, little speeches and a specialty cake.

I even wore Vera Wang. True, they were Vera Wang pajamas...but that still counts! (I topped the outfit off with matching pale pink earrings and heels that for some bizarre reason I already owned.). Oh so glamorous. And yes, most everyone else wore some form of PJs too. Mendoza Line won the best costume prize for busting out her Grandma Bertha’s long velour robe.

Thanks to my brother Pat-hole's amazing bead collection, I spent an entire day making earrings for everyone to choose as a party favor.

My mom went to a specialty baker in town and had a hip-shaped cake made. It came out looking more like a bizarre tooth, but it still made an impact and put a smile on everyone's face.
And the topper….anatomically correct hipbone key chains for everyone to take home with the following inscription: Be “Hip” 3-23-09 (date of my surgery). I even gave one to my surgeon and told him to keep it with him on the big day.


As for games, I wanted to keep it simple and fun (and of course the winners got a prize). I know people’s tolerance to act silly in front of a bunch of people they may not know that well is limited, so I opted not to do the crutch race (though I liked the idea!). Instead we played "Pin the Hip on DT" - a big success in my opinion. We used the poster I created from the invitation's x-ray image, and used the bright pink glow located at the hip joint as the target. Everyone could choose which kind of "healing band aid" they wanted, depending on their belief system - Jesus or Enchanted Unicorns. Not that I’m reading too much into this, but I only had Jesus band aids left over in the end. I blindfolded everyone and for the most part, they missed by a mile.

For the second game, my mom made a "prescription bottle" filled with "pain pills" (Good & Plenty’s) and everyone had to guess how many pills in the bottle.She made the cutest label that read "Take as many as needed for sweet relief. Dr It's Good-Plenty."

My absolute favorite part of the day was when everyone introduced themselves, saying how they knew me. I usually keep one or two important people with me from each phase of my life. So, at the age of 36, this leaves quite a range. Friends were there from college all the way through to some spectacular women I met just months ago (high school friends -- and even a few of my fellow bloggers -- were there in spirit but live too far away). Not to mention my mom's friends who have known me since before I was born.

It's no secret that I've been feeling extremely down and sorry for myself the past few months about this surgery. But having all those people around me - people I feel so comfortable with - helped to remind me who I am. And I'm actually someone I like. Lately I've felt like nothing more than a medical problem accompanied by constant pain, negative emotions, and endless favors asked of my family and friends during my recovery. But being there, cracking jokes with everyone, feeling the love..well, the shower accomplished exactly what I had hoped. And I am proud of myself for making it happen (and eternally grateful to my mom for all her help).

Where was Wine Guy in all of this? Well, leading up to the event, he was really pissing me off. Of course, these days he just has to breath and I'm pissed off (yeah, I have been a nightmare to live with). But the night before the shower, when I really needed him (I put him in charge of bartending) he jumped into action. While I went to my mom's to party prep the night before, he stayed home mixing the perfect, spicy Bloody Mary mix. Then he showed up right on time and ran that bar like a professional, custom mixing drinks, being friendly but out of the way, and keeping everything neat and tidy. Every woman there was bowled over by his "level of service."

All this time I'd been upset because he seemed so disinterested in it all. He didn't seem to care about the games we were planning, the decorations, the outfits. I wasn't even sure he was really going to come. But clearly I was just drowning in my negative assumptions because he was a dream boyfriend and I couldn’t thank him enough. He didn't even want my gratitude...I think he actually enjoyed it.

But it was an important lesson for me. Well, more of a reminder actually. Wine Guy is a man - no matter how much of a “friend” he might seem like sometimes. And men simply don't want to talk about party planning and outfits (I know, obvious, but I can be pretty stupid about men sometimes). It's nothing personal.

The important thing is that he actually does what he says he'll do and that he shows me that he loves me in his own way. Not the way I am used to with my female friends, which is usually listening and talking about things ad nauseum.

Wine Guy showed me that he he does love me and is there for me when I need him. And I know he will continue to be there during my recovery. And that says a lot. Probably everything I need to know.

Yet a few hours after the shower, he surprised me with his total male cluelessness with a sincere question, "Why did everyone keep talking about weddings? What was that all about?" He simply did not get that this party was a spoof of a bridal shower. No clue. Oh, to be a man who doesn’t have to know what happens at a bridal shower. Sigh.

Tonight we are going to dinner at a new restaurant I’ve been eager to try and then WG is taking me to the musical "Working" (based on the Studs Terkel book that I am currently reading - and loving). This is my last night out before I am reduced to a drugged up, bed-ridden, walker-using invalid, who will hopefully heal quickly and get a heck of a lot of knitting and reading done during my 3 months off of work.

I appreciate everyone's good wishes, thoughts, prayers, whatevers. And I'll catch you on the other side.

Dismissed.