August 2, 2011

My fun little project

Last week Clint had sinus surgery. They (the VA) did a cleaning out of his sinuses and fixed his very deviated septum. The surgery went well or so I'm told. Care at a military hospital is nothing like care at a civilian hospital. At a civilian hospital the patient (and his family) are a consumer. They have the ability to seek treatment where they choose. Not so much with a VA or military hospital. I wasn't allowed to wait with Clint prior to surgery. I got to walk him to the check in desk and then the nurse asked for my cell phone number and told me they would call when he was ready for me to pick him up.....uh no. I tried to patiently wait in the waiting room until I assumed the surgeon would let me know how the surgery went. Wrong again. The OR tech wheeled Clint by the waiting room then he hollered in the door "anyone waiting for Clint?" I hurried up and walked to the door looked into my husband's still very out-of-it eyes and the tech said "he did good, you can come back and get him in about an hour". I still wasn't leaving, partly out of concern for my husband and partly because I was driving the beast and I wasn't sure I could find my way back to the VA and park it without running someone over. So I waited and waited.

During my wait I was hit on by a man in his 80's. You may be thinking he was probably just being friendly, no I felt dirty after he left. The recovery nurse finally came to my rescue and told me Clint was ready. She read both of us the discharge instructions but did not love all the crazy questions like "did he get any zofran?" "when was his last pain pill?" "how did the surgery go?". Once he was discharged I walked him to the elevator, down to the first floor where he had to stand in line for his prescriptions. Fast forward 24 hours it was time to remove the packing and talk to the surgeon and the doctor told me to wait in the waiting room. Seriously? I told Clint that I want to get a copy of his medical records so I can read what they have written about me.

Now that I have gotten that out this blog is really suppose to be about my "fun little project". A while back I got this grand idea that I should move Clint and my room down to where Noah's room is and use Jake and Ethan's room for a craft/office. Mason and Ethan could share and Noah and Jake could have bunk beds in my old room. Really great idea. Right now if I want to do any craft I have my kitchen table. I haul all of my junk upstairs, set it on the kitchen table and it is time to eat so I have to clean my mess up. No matter when I try to do a project it is always time to eat at my house! I was really excited about being able to have a small place of my own.

Saturday at a garage sale I found a metal bunk bed that just needed a little spray paint so it was not so obnoxious. I tried my hand at spray painting and quickly learned I could never be an artist with a spray can. Jenny was kind enough to volunteer Jude so I would stop freaking out. So what better way to spend the rest of Saturday when it is 90 plus degrees out and we don't have central air? Move rooms. I had to take apart and move 2 lodge pole beds. Move 2 twin and 1 full mattress from downstairs to upstairs and our queen bed downstairs. As well as move the belongings of 5 people. I was smart enough to not move my dressers downstairs so we have "traded" dressers. My house is currently a mess, not everything has found a home, my arms are like noodles and I would probably cry if you squeezed them but I learned a few valuable lessons.
1. Although I could never be a carpenter, or a professional bed putter together or taker aparter once I find the correct tools I'm good.
2. It is really hard to find the right tools when you don't know the official names (i.e. easier to call something a wratchet instead of the tool that goes "kweee koooo" when you use it).
3. If I have to be I am pretty strong.
4. I will no longer complain when Clint moves my furniture and bumps it into the wall.
5. I would rather be in charge of the cleaning and organizing of these projects and leave the "muscle" jobs to Clint.

I just keep telling myself "It will be worth it when it's done.......I swear"

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