Diaries Magazine

5 Minutes : Part 1 (So, Like 2 and a Half Minutes, Or Whatever)

By Parentalparody @parental_parody
Alternatively titled - It's the little things

Alternatively alternatively titled - It's been a slow week

Alternatively alternatively alternatively titled - Because I can

5 minutes : Part 1 (So, like 2 and a half minutes, or whatever)

Oh bless you, TheFunnyPlace, for this shit cake that I shall bake for the next staff morning tea!

Anyway - this is Part One.  The woe is me, if you will.

It sets you up for how I totally nailed it on the whole "5 minutes" thing.

Essentially, all the titling and the alternatively titling is fairly irrelevant to this post.  So remember it for the part 2, ok?


So it's been a fairly crappy 6-odd weeks.

Please allow me to detail why I have not blogged of late...

You may or may not recall how, this time last year, I was whining for Australia about having severe adult chicken pox (having dodged it as a kid, back in the days before vaccines).  It was a massive poor-me pity fest, on account of me previously being psyched to score a school job that saw he having school holidays off, on full pay, with my dearly beloved offspring.  Only to be ruined by the pox, first full pay school holidays.

Anyway, whatevs...I'm just saying....July school holidays can suck it - I'm putting myself in full quarantine come July 2017.

So, this year, in the week prior to the stupid non-event that is July school holidays, I had my tonsils out, my uvea chopped in half (Google it like I did you guys, turns out that drop shaped thing at the back of your throat is not your tonsils, it's a uvea.  Who knew?  What, you did?  Myeh, well I thought that was part of my tonsils.  In my infinite medical wisdom).

I also had my tongue cauterized, and some 'excess loose skin' removed from inside my throat while they were in there.

I'm an over-achiever, you know.

Also - please note the joy that is the knowledge that, even on the inside, I have flabby excess loose skin...

Aced the surgery, so I left the hospital 24hrs after my operation.  Because I am nothing if not dense, and all the medical peeps querying why on earth I would be leaving did not suggest to me that I shouldn't be.

So I did.  And I went back to work the next day, and the day after that - in a speaking role at the front desk, filling in for a work friend who was on leave.

Yep, I am that kind of stupid....

Anyway, I nailed all of that (with a little help from others who took on the speaking role).  At this point, I am a legend in my own lunchbox.

Endured a week and a half of school holidays from my ailing bedside (as a result of nailing all of the above...), dodging the kids' whiny demands for all of the school holidays movies, play dates, treats and outings that I had stupidly promised.

Then #1Hubby had to travel for work, so I drove to the #1Grandparents' house AWAY FROM THE CITY AND THE HOSPITALS, in order to fool them into thinking we were actually doing something / going somewhere for the school holidays (heaven forbid they have to do news in class and speak about what they did on the holidays - I had to give them something to work with).

... and within 5 minutes of arriving, 2 weeks post op (when all should be just about healed), I sprung a leak.

Bent over to load stuff into the fridge, and my mouth filled with the good red stuff.

Which I had to swallow, since the kids were all up in my face screaming for food / dobbing on each other.

I am nothing if not a good parent, yo.
And maybe now a self-inflicted vampire.
And you're welcome for that visual.
So I wound up ambulancing it straight back to the city.

And then on to another hospital with an Ear Nose and Throat specialist on duty.

I have a good friend who works as an ER Nurse at the second hospital, so I was all excited to text her to see if she was working - you know, such was my pain levels (non existent), and sense of emergency over the whole thing (it was one single bleed.  I was done with it, bored, ready to be entertained / chat).

She wasn't on duty...no matter...

BEST EMERGENCY ROOM EVA - I got to live the experience that others watch on those reality TV series about Emergency rooms.

2 police escorts, handcuffed dude in the bed next to me.  On full tanty, random, loopy mode.  Denying all substance consumption while rambling, ranting and raving like a pro in between telling everyone how he had 4 university degrees and could out scholar all of them.

I really, really wanted to pull the curtain between us, so that I could have the visual to match my audio.  But, alas, I am all about being appropriate.

So instead I had to rely on multiple trips to the toilet, walking verrrrrrry slowly past his cubicle to appease my desires.

And text my Mum so she would know how lucky I was, and how much she was missing out on.

Anyway, cut to now - and I'm fine.


My taste buds are screwed!

Two of my most loved and cherished things are suffering - 

1.  My coffee tastes like salt.  Instant coffee (I tried it twice in a panic, to make sure it wasn't just my much loved flat white's that had been tarnished).  

WTF?!  It seems to be getting better, slowly.  That or I'm convincing myself / building up a tolerance to what tastes like a quarter cup of pure salt.


Now this is a real true emergency - wine does not taste the same!

I'd been a smart cookie and planned my school holidays survival in advance - stocking up on my most favorite beverage.

None of it tastes like I remember it.

Dare I say....it tastes.....bad.

Now, it goes without saying (but I will), that I'm giving it a red hot go - I'm trying everything to get my groove back.

I'm persevering through what seems to taste bitter, dry, unpleasant, just hoping that my taste buds will magically kick back into gear at some point, and see me downing the bottle with the wild abandon of 2 loved ones who just made up after an epic fight.

Seriously, this is the most devastating aspect of the whole saga, IMHO*.

Anyway - part 2 will detail what I've been doing to pass the time and amuse myself in lieu of good tasting wine and coffee.

**Mum - before you phone, text, email and Facebook me to ask - IMHO = In My Humble Opinion.

And WTF is "Where's The Fridge"....or, you know, something similar...

STFU everyone else.

Mum - STFU means Stop The Farting U'se...promise

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