..and the kitchen sink

OK, this post is gonna be all over the effin place, and probably won't be proofed... so 'scuse the typo's.

First things first.  Cecily's blood pressure has been creeping higher and it's starting to give me the willies...even tho, by some standards, it's not that bad.  But I am an abnormally anxious person...the kind who checks his mailbox for explosives.  But the doc told us to call him if she had 3 consecutive diastolic pressures over 100.  Which she did.  Yesterday and today.  So we called and he said "rest," which she did.  But no visit to the PETU (Pregnancy Evaluation & Treatment Unit).   We were there already TWICE last week.   But for anyone with a betting pool, I'd start to laying heavy money on a 36-week delivery. 

A side note: When I was drinking, my standard bp was 150/110...for FIVE YEARS. And I never gave it a second thought.  Afterall, I was expendible, at least to me.   As the poet Charles Bukowski once said (and I'm paraphrasing)... "I'm not trying to destroy the whole human race...just a little piece of it...me." I was pretty good at destroying me...at least a sixpack at a time.

It took another five years (in sobriety) for me to find a reason to save my own ass.  Funny about alkies, we need to be coaxed and cajoled into doing the things that other people struggle and fight for.  Like living.  Someone says, please don't kill yourself, and I still hafta flip a coin. Pretty sick, huh?  It took me those five years sober just to get my head out of the oven.  Anyway, I digress.  Point is, I'm more concerned about Cecily and this baby than I ever was about myself when I was loaded.  This is, I s'pose, what they mean by "growth."

Am having a li'l health scare of my own...some kind of cyst under my arm...I don't really know the clinical details and I'm pretty sure you don't want to read them.  Had a chat with a doc about it, and he said it's likely not cancer.  I woulda been slightly more relieved if he hadn't dropped the "C-Bomb" at all.  Anyway, will probably result in minor surgery...hopefully outpatient.  Had one of these two years ago.  What they call a "local local."  I guess that means local anesthesia and local disposition.  It was rather like getting a tattoo...but by four of tattooists at once.  Hafta say I was pretty pleased with myself..only got queasy once...and that was because of the cautery.  Something about the smell of one's own flesh burning.  I think it's the idea that you KNOW it's your flesh burning that brings on that shocky, sweaty, pukey feeling.  Out of context, you might think the smell was nothing worse than bad Indian food.   But a li'l O2 and I was back to normal, chatting with the surgeon as she pulled  something that looked like a fishing lure outa my back. 

A few off-topic comments...

1. If y'all haven't already done so, read Cecily's post (05/09/06) on the unfolding Duke rape case. As for my two-cents...I went to college with enuff testosterone-fueled beerdrunk preppy douchebags to observe them in action.  Alone they're chickenshits, but together they can muster some powerful evil mojo.  Just honing the skills they'll need as future Enron execs, Secretaries of Defense, etc. I s'pose. 

2. Why don't you ever hear the phrase: "You been to that new Swedish take-out place yet?"  Just curious. 

3. Why in hell are movie DVDs so fucking complicated?  I mean, I just want to drop the disc into the machine and watch the effin movie.  No out-takes, no video games based on the film, no details on "the making of..."  Just the movie.  Too much to ask?  I guess so.

4. Mother's Day.  All you moms have a happy one.  I saw a TV commercial today for a florist, promising callers to the 800 number that they would be promptly connected to a "floral consultant."  What exactly is a floral consultant?  Do we really need to euphemize florists to the level of pet psychics?  Ack.  What will we need next..."sweatsock consultants"?  (Oh I just can't DECIDE...the blue stripes or the red stripes.)  We as a nation seem to have two choices...brutes or sissies.  Why?

OK, you've probably stopped reading by now... so I'll stop writing. 
As the late great Mr. Murrow used to say: Good night...and good luck.
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Slang of the day: goose-drownder: a heavy rainstorm.

Comments

[Sarah]

I know how scared you must be, and rightly so after what you two have been through, and adding your own health issue to the mix..well, all I can say is Don't forget to breathe! And please talk to people about it (besides Cec...lol), call D., call me, someone. I'm glad you wrote about it here...the more you get it out there the more you can help to dissipate some of the stress you are carrying.
Know that I am always here to help with anything you need or want.
Swedish takeout...very good question. I'm off to look. ;-)

[Bluestocking]

Oh Charlie - as I've said over in Cecily's comments, she's married to a saint. I'm thinking of both of you and hoping the BP is just a result of working. Get that woman home and stretched out on a couch, ASAP! Sorry about your cyst (when in rains, eh) - I had one removed about six months ago and since it was my neck I had to have the whole overnight in the hospital shebang. With a six month old baby. A six month old nursing baby. Yeah, good times. A little percocet never hurt, right? As I kept telling myself, this could be so much worse, so I'll hope for the same for you - inconvenience amounting to nothing.

Do you think the cafe at IKEA counts as fast food? I've been to Sweden, actually, it is a beautiful place. There are takeout places that serve what I can only describe as a hot dog wrapped in mashed potatoes and a lavash flour tortilla kind of thing. It was pretty good, but I was drunk.

[SandyC]

Oh Charlie....I recognize the building blocks of panic when I read 'em. Don't give in. Breathe. Assume the best. Good night, good luck and I will never stop reading you.

[Coral]

You are all fine!! Don't panic!!

Floral Consultant - makes me smile, what is it about us that we have to make things sound better than they are?

Waitron (WTF?), now that is also on the list, where did that even come from?

Chat soon, you always make me think, Swedish take out, hmm, another point to ponder.

[carosgram]

New England has been having some bad goose drowners. Yes, I read to the end. I sometimes think it is harder to be a prospective father than a pregnant mother. At least she has the kicks and extended belly to reassure her. You just get all your worries and hers to contend with. Wishing you both the best!

[Mel]

Mmmm.... Sweedish takeout sounds yummy. Lotsa meatballs. You might be on to something there! ;)

[sun]

I can't be bothered with anything recently. I haven't been up to anything. I don't care. I haven't gotten much done lately. Not that it matters.

[abrupt]

I've just been staying at home waiting for something to happen. I just don't have much to say right now, but so it goes. I've basically been doing nothing to speak of, but shrug. Today was a loss. I don't care. That's how it is.