The Cowardly Lion Survives!

I did it.

FYI: so called "Open Air MRI's" are not that open.

I was strapped to a table, my head taped down, a darth vader like apparatus placed over my face and was then inserted into the world's largest and loudest waffle iron.

For 27 agonizing minutes.

I kept my eyes closed the entire time and went to my happy place: Hawaii.

I did it. Without medication.

Can I get a Booya-grandma?!

Thank you for all the kind words and thoughts. They've meant a lot to me.

Tomorrows the Big Day

MRI.

Hope I don't wimp out.

Dan told me that he wanted to lock me in the dark closet and bang real loud on the door. "It'll be like simulation therapy babes."

He mocks me.

Mahalo to my Helpers

The Choob has spent the last three days at my parents house since my recent robot transformation. Grandpa has run MANY laps around the house with him in this wicked heat, let Choobie drive in the motorhome and his Tahoe, swing him for countless hours, and played with flashlights galore. Thank you Grandpa!Gram has handled everything else Choob related. Aside from the fact that she has the magical capability of getting my son to eat a large amount of food, she lets him destroy her house with transformers, a plethora of swords, use his scissors to cut up millions of post its and scatter them throughout the house, all while wiping his diaharea bum several times a day and putting him down for a nap. Thank you Gram!

Dan: Thank you for doing EVERYTHING else this week, even though you were sick. I know I can be a real monster sometimes. I love you babes.

Doctor Say What?!!

Yesterday I got a call from a wonderful lady who labeled herself as my "patient advocate" and "case manager." I like to call her my "guardian angel." She was outraged that I wasn't sent to a specialist so she booked me an appointment with an orthopedist later that afternoon. Just like that.

She has promised to help me with all my workers comp paperwork due to my drug induced state and the fact that my right arm is sometimes numb and when I do write with it, the handwriting is NOT my own. Very weird.

So Dan shuttled me to the doctors office AGAIN and filled out another stack of paperwork and held it up to my face to sign because I cannot look anywhere but straight ahead. More Xrays and tests. We waited. Then the doctor came in and told me he wants me to go for an MRI because he thinks I've herniated or ruptured my cervical discs.
EXCUSE ME?!!! An MRI??!!!
I immediately burst into tears. see below

Let's review what happend the last time I went for an MRI shall we?

After a breif moment of hysteria, the doctor agreed to let me get an Open Air MRI. Not sure what that entails but I have my new best friends I can take before I go.

He gave me TWO more perscriptions and asked to see me back on Tuesday. I told him I was planning on flying to vegas for my yearly girls vacation. He told me I was not. I asked him for a neck brace. He said NO. I asked him for a back brace. He said NO.
EXCUSE ME?!!! No VEGAS??!!!
Worst news ever. Flights Cancelled. Resort Cancelled. Bags unpacked. It's just me, my neck log, appointments, MRIs, and drugs this weekend. Awesome. Stupid Zipline. I'm gonna go watch bride wars now.

Meet My New Best Friends

SOMA

PERCOCET

WARNING: flying down the longest zipline in the continental US four times a day for six months can result in serious injury.

On Friday I injured my neck at work. During our morning test ride I busted my neck upon contact with the "braking system" (aka crashing into three metal brakes)

The medic sent me to a clinic of his choice to be x-rayed. I never realized how important C5 and C6 vertebrae are until I hurt them. I now know how the tin man felt, unable to bend or turn his head. Off to physical therapy I went that same day to be tortured for another 30 minutes. Finally I was sent home with ice/hot packs, a neck log, and some drugs that were supposed to cure me.

They did not.

Being that it was the weekend and I couldn't get a hold of the clinic doctor, I did what any logical patient would do: Self medicate! I started taking Dans heavy duty muscle relaxers. They did not work.

Unable to administer an epidural to myself, I turned to the next best thing: NyQuil and my secret vicodin stash (which I acquired from Dans wisdom teeth removal) so I could sleep at night.

Went back to the doctor on Monday looking like a robot. He stated, "we are going to go after this quite aggressively now," and handed me a prescription for pure bottled magic.

After FOUR days of constant immobility and pain I was given the gift of percocet and soma. These little friends made it possible for me to walk, go to the bathroom on my own, brush my own hair, hug my baby before he left with Dan for preschool, and sit and type this blog. Miraculous. I LOVE modern medicine!

Sometimes I love things a little too much. Let's not forget my addiction to nose spray and Mt. Dew. Perhaps Dan will be checking me into rehab by the end of the week. But for now it's "doctors orders" and I couldn't be happier to hang out with my two new friends all day, every day until Thursday.

Finally..... A Day Off

With no work the ENTIRE day, we headed out to the Aquarium. We got there right when it opened so we had the whole place to ourselves.

This big grouper kept swimming over to Choobie. It was like a puppy following him around.

Choob loves the big Eels. I loved the big Lobster.

Boat racing and shark cages

When dad got home we ate dinner and then went for a walk around the neighborhood. It was so nice being home together with all three of us.

We found this baby blue belly on our walk. Choobie was so gentle holding it. He wanted to carry it the whole way to the park. After some convincing, he released it so it could "go find his momma gecko."

It was so nice spending time with my boys. Back to work tomorrow.

Third Day Of School

*photo courtesy of the talented Katherine Loveless

No tears from this little man!

So Worth It

You are the trip I did not take;
You are the pearls I cannot buy;
You are my blue Italian lake;
You are my piece of foreign sky.

“To My Child,” quoted in Charles L. Wallis, ed., The Treasure Chest [1965], 54

[Sept 1] Preschoolin' Choob

Choobies first school work. Priceless to me.

I picked my baby up from Preschool. Preschool. What?! How did he ever get this big?

I have always dreamed of the day I could drop him off at school, skip away as they closed the classroom door and have a whole three hours to myself. Oh the possibilities.

When that day arrived, it was harder to leave him in real life.

As we pulled into the parking lot his grip on Puppy tightened and a look of fear swept across his face. "Momma owl (we were pretending to be owls in the car ride over in an attempt to distract him from where we were going) are you going to come to school with baby owl?" I answered, "No, momma owls don't go to school, only baby owls do. Momma owl already went to school. Lots and lot of school. Now lets get out of your nest baby owl."

That's when the battle began. Picture Dan and choobie playing tug o war with puppy in the parking lot and me shouting, "Dogs don't go to school! School is for humans! School is for humans!" We totally looked like model parents. At last Puppy was separated from the kung fu grip.

We walked into class, put his lunch box in his cubby (I LOVE cubbies) and I gave him a hug and kiss and snuck out the door. Momma owl flew the coop. Quick and painless. Dada owl was not so lucky.

Choobies talons pierced the skin on dans legs as he begged for his dada to stay with him. Crying and screaming dan peeled him off his lower body and said goodbye as the teacher restrained our HYSTERICAL baby owl. As soon as dan went out, she shut the door.

Then we cried. The whole way home. Both Dan & I. The prigmores are big ol cry babies! Who knew?

Convinced my child was going to be kicked out of preschool the first day, I awaited a call from the director. It came. About an hour after we dropped him off. But the director didn't scream at me to come get my beast of a child because his ultrasonic shrieks were shattering the glass on his classroom windows. Instead, she called to tell me he wasn't crying and was having fun on the playground with his teacher. She just called to let me know he was OK. The director. An angel sent from heaven. I LOVE HER and I LOVE his teacher and I LOVE his school.

We arrived 10 minutes early to wait outside his classroom door. (Can you tell he's an only child?)When he came out he was smiling! And happy! His teacher told us he was upset for about 20 minutes and then had fun on the playground. He found a spider and looked at it. Ate his snack. And functioned in normal preschool society. All without the aid of his Puupy, light sabres, binkys and blankets. I was blown away. Plus he was so proud of his handprint. When we got home he ran over to the wall and said, "let's hang my handprint up here!" I love that he is learning to love school. We're so proud of you baby owl!!

FIRST day of School

Details to come!