Routine Surgery

So, I had umbilical hernia surgery last week. I won’t go into the grisly details, because, well, it’s really gross and I just don’t have the stomach for it (pun intended). But, rest assured that it was a fairly simple in-and-out surgery.

I checked into the hospital at 6:00AM and was home by 1:30 or 2:00PM. Easy peasy. Except for the part where I thought I might die or stroke out on the operating table. Don’t laugh, stranger things have happened during so-called “routine surgeries,” and the things they asked me before surgery made it a million times worse. “Do you have a religious preference?” Huh? For what? My last rites?! Oh, man, I was totally wigging. You name an ailment and I was convinced I would not only catch it, but die from it, last week while at the hospital. Crazy!

Needless to say, I am safe and sound now at home. I’m feeling much better, but, the pain meds are still totally tripping me out. I keep dreaming about Asian chicks, not in a creepy sexual way or anything, but, they’re just there, like, in every dream. Lucy Liu has been a regular this past week, and Michelle Yeoh has dropped by, as has my sister-in-law, Laura. Actually, Laura makes sense at least, since she practically moved in with us, after I got home from the hospital, to take care of Greta. Thanks again for that, Laura, you rock!

The best Laura story was the first day after the surgery, she came over before I even woke up and let herself in. Greta woke up and started pestering me for food or water or something (I know, the nerve of that kid!) and as I was coming out of a druggy fog to respond, I heard this angelic little voice calling out to us both from the living room. “Greta, I’m here. What do you need, sweetie?”

Perking up at the sound of Aunt Laura’s voice, Greta ditched me so fast my head spun. It was hilarious. But, it was also really wonderful to be able to fall back into a deep sleep and know that Greta wasn’t juggling knifes or something in the kitchen. Whew. Thanks again, Laura.

Anyway, another thing I noticed during the last few days is that my surgery really freaked Greta out. She hasn’t said anything about it directly, but, her demeanor has been strange all week. She’s been very moody and temperamental and has been very curious about what happened to me when I “was gone” — Mrs. Yeti and I had to be at the hospital so early on surgery day that we had Laura spend the night and wake up with Greta after we’d left — and she’s even asked me when I’m leaving again. I have assured Greta that I’m not going anywhere, and she was pre-warned several times that we would not be there when she woke up on surgery day, but, something tells me she’s still a little skeptical about the whole thing. It’s weird.

We’re doing our best to show her how much better I’m feeling and that I’m on the mend, and Greta is very excited to go with me to the doctor on Monday to remove my bandages (urgh, at least one of us is!). So, hopefully that will bring the whole thing full circle for her. And I’m sure she’ll also mellow out a bit when things finally get back to normal around here.

I mean, in her defense, Greta’s little toddler world has been pretty hectic since we got back from NYC. We’ve had lots of people visiting, lots of indoor time while the sun scorched the earth outside, — BTW, kiss my ass non-believers, global warming is real as shit, deal with it! — both Mrs. Yeti and have been working like fiends, and then this big old belly surgery pops up (again, pun totally intended). Anyway you look at it, things just haven’t been normal in Gretaland in a while.

And the way this next week is shaping up, that trend should continue until about midweek, when, hopefully, things will get back on track for everyone.

Until then, I guess the Barbies and stuffed animals in our house had better prepare for a whole new wave of belly button surgeries performed by the ill-tempered Dr. Greta. Oh joy…

People need to be pruning their shit, yo…

OK, maybe I’m just saying this because we are more than halfway through our vacation up here in Oregon and we are still helping my Mother-in-Law unpack her belongings from the move. Yep, part one of the vacation involved the helpful side of my wife’s family (don’t get me started on that other half!), Greta, my wife and I, a moving truck, two cars and four sweaty-ass days of moving. And yes, it was as totally not fun as it sounds.

But what really made things suck was the fact that my very sweet Mother-in-Law — really, she is the best and I love her to death under normal circumstances — had failed to prune anything from her vast collection of crafting gear. I’m not kidding, man, if you took the time to actually create something from every scrap of fabric, yarn and crafting paper in that damn moving truck, you could clothe an entire city for a year. Or, you know, maybe a small island community. But still, it was a lot of shit!

And you wanna know what sucked even worse than the sheer volume of shit we moved? Now that we’re unpacking her shit, my Mother-in-Law has decided that she is finally ready to part with tons of it. Hmmm…that kind of thinking would have been so much more helpful, you know, before we loaded your boxes onto a truck and moved you to another state! Oy…

Anyway, having just gone through something similar with another aging relative, all I can say is: “People need to be pruning their shit, yo…” We have had two garage sales recently and every time we have one, my wife and I prune more shit from our already cluttered garage. And yeah, it sucks to get rid of stuff you love or loved, or thought you could never live without, but, man alive, it sucks even worse to have to wade through someone else’s boxes of insanity later on down the road. So, do you loved one’s a favor, people, and please, for the love of God…prune your shit!

Alright, this concludes my anti-hoarding rant for the day. Thanks for reading!