This show is hilarious. Sort of spoiler alert. Though this was 2 weeks ago as tonight we catch up on recordings. The show conflicts with Masterchef which we watch live.
They had to butcher a chicken which still had his head and feet. Carson Kressley is all wait! I still have to flirt with Sean (of bachelor fame) first. Then during the challenge he says now this is a real fluster cluck and I lost it. Get it? It’s funny cuz chickens 🐔 cluck 😆
Carson couldn’t cook worth a darn but he was excellent comic relief.
Last week’s episode is when they made pasta. It was ok but without Carson I’m just not as interested. Wah-wah 😒
If you’ve connected the dots, this happened a week after that fateful day. Juggling 🤹♂️ is our specialty. I’ll say one thing adversity has only served to strengthen us.
B “I wonder who I pissed off to get this payback”
Me “no one, shit just happens”
~Wednesday September 17, 2014 Methodist Hospital ER 11:58 p.m. ~
I am a firm believer of that. No assignment of blame. Sometimes things just suck for no reason in particular. Oh and I also believe in miracles and that unicorns fart rainbows … NOT! Or do I, … maybe I do!!!
Blood has ruined my favorite comfy capris and B’s Dallas Cowboys T-Shirt is toast … because when your nose starts bleeding and won’t stop, you don’t think about anything else … you race to the ER meeting the doctor there, ignoring the looks, stares and sympathetic glances. Hours pass by and the stains have set in … to remind us that it could be worse, it could always be worse.
Of course I can say that NOW, since the crisis was adverted.
I am no doctor but I am positive that all that Naproxin he was taking for his back contributed to this inability to clot because the last nose surgery under worse conditions did not have this particular side effect. If I was a doctor or other healthcare professional, I might find this all in a day’s work and be quite fascinated. I am not however. Though I did keep it together until all was well again. I know if I get this out “on paper” I’ll have a writer’s catharsis. The second act is my verbal release.
Okay, now that feels better. Except I’ll probably be all Lady Macbeth “out damn spot” for a while. Deep breath in and slowly exhale.
Hug your loved ones, don’t be shy. Say what you mean and mean what you say ala Dr. Seuss’s Horton. For I too believe in things I cannot see or hear. Life is too short to do otherwise.
unwilling to spend money or use resources; stingy or frugal.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. Available 24 hours everyday.
The doctor (we will call him Dr. X) who admitted her was a joke. I swear he was high on something. Dilated pupils and the inability to sit still are tell-tale signs. He spoke rapid fire and only sort of made sense. All along we thought commitment was voluntary.
Dr. X: What would you like to do?
Me: Can we wait for my husband?
Dr. X: When will he be here? We really should move this along. Spaces are limited.
Me through tears: Lulu do you want to stay? Do you still want to hurt yourself?
Lulu: I don’t know. No, I don’t want to hurt myself. I am scared momma but I can be brave. I will stay. Maybe here I will get to finally see somebody who can help me?
I signed her into a 72 hour hold still thinking this was voluntary considering how everything was explained to me. The paperwork was a novel and I admit I did not retain most of it, the words floating through my brain, not sticking. I may have signed under duress but that changes nothing.