I haven't been on VR because yes, it's that time again. I was setting up the classroom. I shouldn't be at all surprised that the new furniture didn't come in. Was it even ordered? Of course I have to use the old stuff. Last year I begged for furniture on Donor's Choose. Some great people donated money for beanbag chairs. Guess I'll be doing that again. My body is so sore from moving furniture. And I fell carrying boxes. It was a miracle I didn't hurt my surgery foot. I fell gracefully but skinned the hell out of my knee. I have battle wounds. No, VanDick didn't do it. I had him busy painting. It should be an interesting new year.
I survived the first day of work with the mountain climbing and all. My legs are sore but I carried around an ice pack for the foot. I think the principal is a retard with all this mountain climbing and ballroom dancing. Nice ides but get me on a good day. Not just after surgery. I DON'T THINK SO.
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I really didn't want to think about work. Didn't want to even say the word. THE LETTER came a few days ago about the first day of school. I was speechless and didn't want to talk about it. Last year, a month after my 1st surgery, we had to go to a dance lesson and tour of a museum. I said "I just had surgery, I can't do that". The response from my principal was that the museum has elevators. Heartless bastard. Now the bastard wants us to go hiking and climbing. Ok, I have to go back to work but damn, I'm just getting feeling back in my toes. I can wiggle them. Hiking and climbing, no way in hell. Oh and wear sneakers. The foot doesn't fit in one yet. I'm getting a doctor's note and I'll wait for you at the bottom of the mountain. The bullshit we have to put up with is unreal.
Although someone may be spreading false rumors about my feet, I'll be nice. Besides I would sleep with 1 eye open. Today is my honey's second birthday. His rebirth we can say. It is 4 years since his transplant. He was given a 2nd chance. That I have to be thankful for. He wouldn't be here to entertain us if it wasn't for our hero son who donated 60% of his superliver to his stepdad. Ther are miracles in life.
Here I was thinking about pedicures and sandals, but after I wrote the entry in my journal I began to think the hell with the pedicures, by Sat.( according to Doctor's orders) the stiches should be healed so I can take a shower without plastic bags. Now that is something to celebrate. What am I doing all day Sat., soaking in the tub. Don't care if I prune up but I will enjoy the joy of water on my foot. By Sat. I should be able to lose the dressing too. Just a update, the latex reaction looks better since I got that damn latex off. It's swollen today but Dr. Frankenstein is changing the dressings today. We think it's too tight again.
Today was the unveiling! I have an almost pretty foot. Somdeay I may have "Happy Feet" that I can actually wear sandals, get a pedicure, wow boggles the mind. I remember the first surgery when my son said "mom, I never seen you with such pretty toes". It touched my heart.
Brought to you by the letter C and the number 3-
They are keeping the number 3 and letter C staples in my foot. I feel like alphabet soup. How appropiate for a pre-k teacher!
Still recovering from that ordeal last week. The removal of the lego pin was no big deal but the one with the screw was a real pain, literally. Again, I had a problem with my pressure. They pumped me with all kinds of drugs that I'm not used to. And a 10 min. procedure turned into 3 hours. What a nightmare! My foot is still numb but I feel so run down it's not funny. Wasn't even up to the Rave much. As soon as my foot is up to it I'm checking out about my pressure. These dumbass doctors tell you it's nothing but it has to be something because this is the second time it happend. The doctors in the hospital told me I should be on medication for my pressure. So what is it assholes, either I have it or not.
COMMENTS
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VanDick
22:43 Aug 30 2008
Keep telling you that place is a hell hole. Dead Zone like the phone commercial.