CSFTDBMS: Another installment

I'm back in the dating pool again. It's kinda nice in here. Lots of fun things happen. Like this:

 

The man came to the door and gave me a hug. He was really good looking. He had amazing hair. And we talked and talked and talked and barely came up for air - because we were talking about traveling and adventures and I get so excited about that stuff.

 

 

He seemed very familiar. We went to the Westminster Spring Chorale Concert. He kept trying to be the last one to clap. It made me laugh. A lot. Again, he seemed familiar to me but I couldn't figure out why.

 

 

We went to Bruges Waffles in Sugar House. I was floored by the deliciousness of it all. Again, we talked and talked and talked.

 

And then it hit me. Like a Mack truck. He was an older version of my little brother Mason.

 

 

And then it was all over for me.

The Election

Damn and double damn. That's all I really have to say about that. But know that's a lot coming from me.

The Dr. Visit

 

So, I had a dull headache for about two and a half weeks. I finally decided to go to the doctor. I sat down with some trashy magazine in the clinic and waited. Seriously, those things are crap. Anyway, About 20 minutes passed and I was being patient but I was starting to get a little annoyed. This little lady who had aged beyond her years sat down one seat away from me. She had dentures. But didn’t have them glued in, or whatever you do to dentures to keep them from smacking and slurping. Geh. She also had a whistly nose. Oh. My. Gosh. I started freaking out. Lip smacking, denture noises, and a whistly nose? Seriously? I thought about getting up and moving, but then I looked at this lady’s face. That would just be rude. So I tilted my head to the side, plugged my ear, covered my hand with my hippie hair, and chewed my gum really loudly so I could only hear myself. I still heard some noises though, and I thought I was gonna lose it.

About 15 minutes of this and finally the medical assistant came and saved me.

She asked, “Are you dying?”

So I said, “Well yeah! That little lady was smacking her lips and dentures and had a whistly nose and I thought I was going to die! It was horrible! I’m SO glad you came and got me!”

She laughed and said, “Boy it’s just not your day, is it?”

“No! It’s not!” I said.

She asked, “You want to get on the scale?”

“No!” I yelled.

She just laughed at me.

She took me to my little consultation room where I waited another 20 minutes. It was a long time, but at least there was no whistling. Finally my Dr. came in. She has the personality of a wet blanket. So she asked me some questions and got out her little camera thing – checked my ears, checked my nose (and I burst out laughing. I mean, she shoved a camera up there!), and looked at my throat. She asked if I had a sore throat and I said I didn’t, just a head ache. Then she felt my neck and that was painful. Painful! 

“It looks like you have a sinus infection and your glands are really swollen, so we’ll start you on some antibiotics. It also looks like you have an enlarged thyroid.”

I groaned, “Don’t even tell me that! My mom had hers removed due to cancer and my aunts have thyroid problems!”

She said, “Well, we’ll check your thyroid levels to make sure you don’t have any problems. It doesn’t mean you have cancer. You might just have a goiter.”

Umm, hello!!! What?! “A GOITER? I CAN’T HAVE A GOITER! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

Remember, wet blanket – “What’s wrong with a goiter?”

“A GOITER?! THAT’S JUST WEIRD! OH MY GOSH!!!”

She just smiled at me and said she was going to get the MA to draw some blood.

Holy crap guys, a goiter.

So in walks Brittany just laughing at me, when I say – well yell – “OH MY GOSH! DID SHE TELL YOU I MIGHT HAVE A GOITER!?”

She just laughed more and jammed a bazooka in my arm and started drawing some blood. She looked at me and said, “Yeah, you’re under a little bit of stress aren’t you?” And I just thought to myself, “At least someone is laughing.”

After a 15 minute interaction with both Dr. and MA, my goiter and I were on our merry little way.  I went to the pharmacy and started taking my prescription and I had kind of a bad reaction, but they told me it should take about 3 days for the antibiotic to kick in. Finally, Friday I called in to see if what was happening was normal. I gave them my symptoms and they said they’d call me back.

A few hours later Brittany called me back.

“Hi. You really shouldn’t have a golf ball on your throat and that other stuff is bad too. Stop taking that medication and take this other one.”

“Ok. So did my blood work come back?” I was nervous.

“Yeah, actually it did. We sent you a letter but it looks like your levels are all normal.”

“SO DOES THAT MEAN I HAVE A GOITER THEN?!”

She joined in the yelling, “YOUR FINE!!!” She was busting up laughing.

So guys, I guess I just have to face the fact that I’m gonna have a little buddy on my neck. 

Moving

So, over the next few weeks, I’m moving. I really hate moving because it’s like, where the heck did all this crap come from? I don’t even know. 

Anyway, so my job has been freaking awesome lately. We are to the point on this house where I get to go  buy stuff for it. I know, lots of people are jealous. I love the days when I get to just go out shopping. All day. That’s right. Anyway, so I was out buying vintage hats yesterday, so I was hitting up a bunch consignment stores. Um, those are awesome. Anyway, so as I was searching for hats, I saw some pewter bowls. For about 1/3 the price of what they are sold at my go-to pewter store. Guys. Seriously. So I was thinking, I won’t be able to go to my mother’s hutch and use all her dishes anymore. So I bought them. Because I need them. And now I realize where all this crap comes from.

S. Ann Thomas

As a kid, I was never one to understand why people were so upset when their grandparents passed away. My father’s father passed away before I was born and Grandma Stout wanted to be with him since the day he died. My mother’s parents lived in California and we visited them every other or every year. My Linda-mom’s parents also lived in California. I never really knew the role grandparents could have in someone’s life. My mom’s grandfather, or “Papa” as he was known, had a stroke when I was about twelve and I remember mom crying and feeling so sad about it. But to me, he was just old. He had always been old. And that’s what happened to people when they get old.

Then, when I was 13, my step-dad Craig came into our lives and brought with him the best Grandparents a kid could ever ask for. Grandpa Hale would call us up and then swing by and take us to a movie. AND he would buy popcorn. Popcorn! He wrote us poems for our birthdays and made personalized cards. He made us feel like we had always been his grandkids. And he absolutely loved us. I came to understand what having grandparents meant.  His health started rapidly declining when I was 20 and when I had been in the MTC for a month, he passed away. I cried. A lot. I still cry because I miss him so much.

My mother’s parents moved to Utah about 18 years ago, but I didn’t get to know my Gram until after my Grandfather passed away. I realized that she must be pretty lonely without him. I was pretty lonely without Anna. They passed away 8 ½ months apart. So once a week I started coming down to visit Grandma. I came to learn what a fun sassy lady she was. We became friends. She’d take me to dinner for my birthday and took me shopping for a gift. We would sit out on her porch and eat a popsicle and just talk for a while. I’d go with her to the monthly Macy’s one day sale to buy someone a wedding gift. She wrote me faithfully while I was a missionary and told me how proud she was of me. Since I moved back home with my mother, I went over at least once a week to visit her. She became my best friend.

She was taken to the hospital on September 10, 2011. For the 18 days she was in the hospital, I went before work, during lunch, and after work, even if she was just sleeping, just so I could be with her. It was hard to see her having such a hard time. She was then diagnosed with stomach cancer and sent home to recover from surgery. I went over every morning and we had breakfast together. She would always have a bowl and a spoon for the both of us sitting on the counter waiting for me. I also went over right after work. She would ask me what I had planned for the night and tell me how fun it sounded. Then I would come over the next morning and she would ask me how it went. She knew everything.

Right before Thanksgiving, she was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer. She decided against chemotherapy and radiation treatments. She started making pancakes, scones, eggs, and bacon for breakfast. When she started declining, I slept over at her house. It was a privilege, you know. No one was ever allowed to lie on her bed since it would flatten the feather tick and the down comforter and then it would take ten minutes to remake the entire bed. But I got to. And it felt like I was sleeping in a feather cacoon. And then I got to start taking care of her and making sure she was comfortable and had everything she needed. I remembered how I had thought my mom a little crazy for being so heartbroken when Papa started declining. But then I understood. Maybe people get old and things happen. But this is my old person. And it hurt like the dickens to realize that she was slipping away.

Grandma passed away last Thursday night. I was relieved she was finally able to leave and let go. But now I just feel empty and sad. I miss my friend. It’s not that I don’t know that I will see her again. It’s not that I don’t think she’s isn’t in pain anymore. It’s not that I don’t think she’s in a better place. I know all those things. It’s the pain of the sudden severance of association. That her house is empty now and the light isn’t on, waiting for me to come over. That the conversation between us is now just a bunch of memories that, with time, I will start to forget.

However, she has given me so much. She taught more about what it meant to be an adored granddaughter. And I am so thankful to have a Gram who was such a wonderful noble woman. A woman I will continue to honor. And one that I can never forget.

But...

Last night I was hanging with Gram. She has been cracking me up. She recognized me when I first walked in but then someone left and I moved to the chair and this was our conversation:

Gram: “What is your name?”

Me: “Amanda”

Gram: “Elaina?”

Me: “Sure. I’m Elaina”

Gram: “Now, do you go to school?”

Me: “No, I have been done with school for a few years.”

Gram: “Did you graduate from the University of Utah?”

Me: “No, I went to BYU.”

Gram: “What did you study?”

Me: “I got my degree in Linguisitcs.”

Gram: “That’s VERY interesting! I have a granddaughter who got her degree in Linguistics from BYU as 

well!”

Me: I thought I would have a little fun. “She must be pretty great.”

Gram: “Yes. She is really great. But….”

Me: What?! There’s a “but?!?”

Gram: “But she hasn’t found anyone to live with. It’s going to take a very VERY long time.”

She seriously is a crack up. I sure love her. But I hope it doesn’t take that long.

Family Portrait

We give new meaning to the term "Sister Wives"

Entertainment

I know you all missed me. Terribly. My grandma has taken a turn for poor health. I don’t know why older people do that. But they do. Punks. So I have spent lots of time before work (and  during work) and also after work hanging out with her and making sure she has what she needs.  And I have also been getting a lot of good entertainment. 

Yesterday I went over to her house wearing some pants I haven’t worn for a while because they were a little… ahem… snug. I asked her if they looked ok. Of course she said they did, because hey, what else would she say? She's my nice sweet grandma. We went on with whatever we were doing. 9:00 rolled around so I said goodbye and started to leave.

 I was halfway through the kitchen when she called, “Hey!” 

So I spun around. “Yes?”

“You have a cute bum!”

LOTS of good entertainment :)

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out

Ralphie as Adult: Round One was over. heh heh. Parents one, kids, zip. I could feel the Christmas noose beginning to tighten. Maybe, what happened next, was inevitable.
Mother: Ralphie, what would you like for Christmas?
Ralphie as Adult: Horrified, I heard myself blurt it out!
Ralphie as Child: I want a Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle. Oooooooh!
Mother: No, you'll shoot your eye out.
Ralphie as Adult: Oh no! It was a classic, mother BB-gun block. "You'll shoot your eye out!" That deadly phrase honored many times by hundreds of mothers was not surmountable by any means known to Kid-dom, but such as my mania, my desire for a Red Ryder carbine, that I immediately began to rebuild the dike.

A Christmas Story: imdb.com

Christmas 2010 was magical. I got one of the best gifts I have ever received. In Relief Society the Sunday after, they asked us to stand up and tell everyone what our favorite gift we received was. Mine was by far the best that was shared: A 75^th anniversary edition Red Ryder BB Gun.  I just love it so much. We have had a lot of good road trips and lots of fun in the back yard. 

Monday was Labor Day so a few of my friends and I decided we wanted to be Americans. We made homemade pizza (what’s more American than pizza?!), apple pie, and shot bb guns. We were shooting there in the back yard for a while, two at a time since we had two guns. I’m not going to lie. I’m a pretty good shot. I hit one of the targets hanging in the tree and then heard the neighbor to the back say “HEY!” I put the safety on mine and ran inside. I don’t know who had the other one, but they all got in the house – fast. We were almost out of bbs anyway. 

I went home and started reloading the guns in the family room as my mom was watching Yard Crashers.  She just loves that HGTV. 

I reached down to put the safety on the gun I hadn’t been shooting. The butt of the gun was down toward my feet and the barrel was about an inch from my shoulder. As I reached for the safety, I hit the trigger instead.

“Peee-ew!”

I had shot myself. In the shoulder. Idiot.

It didn’t even hurt really. It kinda felt like I got stabbed a little. But it didn’t even break the skin. My mom didn’t even know it had happened until I couldn’t stifle my laugh anymore. She was just glad I hadn’t shot my eye out. Now it just feels like I got a tetanus shot. In the front of my shoulder rather than the side. Hurty. But just a little bit hurty. 

So dadgummit, now I am going to take that gun safety class sooner than later.

Shopping carts

Imagine that went to Target the other night with your little brother to get the 5^th season of Psych. You just LOVE Psych. While you’re driving, he asks if there is a lot of dirt in the air. 

You haven’t noticed but then you see a huge dust devil cross the street in front of you. There isn’t even a crosswalk! Yes, there is a lot of dirt in the air. And then you notice just how windy it is. It’s a dang hurricane, practically! 

You turn in on Target street and see some poor sucker pulled over by a copper. You feel kinda bad for the po po for a split second because leaves are flyin around hitting him in the head and big, fat raindrops are pelting his blues (which is short for blue uniform) but then you think he is a real schmuck for pulling that sucker over.

You pull into the parking lot, just by Café Rio, when you see a man who appears to be in his mid-fifties with his arms loaded down with several Target bags staring in horror as his cart starts rolling away from him. 

You stop short to see what will unfold. The wind rockets his cart past the stop sign and into the street. It’s on course to hit the curb when suddenly, for no reason at all, it makes a 45 degree turn and heads straight for the car that was pulled over. 

The poor man who lost his cart widens his eyes to the size of dinner plates. 

You and your brother stare in silence as the cart crashes right into the poor sucker’s car and bounces away and onto its side. And then you lose it. 

You turn back to the bag-laden man. He lifts his shoulders in disbelief and can’t stop staring. 

You still can’t drive and tears are streaming down your face. It’s just too much like a movie! 

The bag man lets his bags drop to his sides and turns back to his car. There’s nothing for him to do now but leave.