Recovery (almost) Complete. No Casualties.

It is Monday morning and we're back home and ready to resume normal life. I don't have time for a lengthy update since I have approximately 5,000 emails to work through and a desk overflowing with work that stacked up in the last couple of weeks, but since my last post might imply a homicide was imminent I'll give you a quick status report.

The good news is we managed to survive the past week of post surgical recovery without killing each other. I confess it was touch and go at times, specifically at the times when Morley didn't feel well and nothing--nothing!--I could do or say made him feel better. Once or twice I had dark thoughts involving the boat anchor, 60 feet of water and Morley's neck (I didn't say that out loud, did I? No? Good).

Luckily, Saturday morning he woke up feeling better than he had all week, and even though he didn't have the stamina to last the entire day, it was definitely progress. Then yesterday he woke up feeling like his old self again and this time it did last all day long. And I put away the anchor and stopped thinking about what I'd order for my last meal before they strapped me to the electric chair.

Before we came home yesterday afternoon we wandered around the dock visiting friends and thanking them for feeding us and helping us get through the week, and in general giving them reassurance that it was once again safe for us to be alone and without police protection. And then we took the camera and went snooping around the new (old) butt ugly boat.

We haven't closed the deal yet but it won't be much longer and then the work will begin. The scope of renovation is nearly overwhelming--almost everything needs to be ripped out and/or replaced except the refrigerator and washer/dryer which are both almost brand new (this is very good news because appliances built for boats are generally very expensive). Even though there is a lot to do, the encouraging thing is we're getting such a good deal on the boat that we can indulge ourselves with the renovation and still end up with less invested than the boat is worth.

To give ourselves encouragement while the renovation is underway, we found photos of identical boats that have been updated. We saved them on our computer so any time we feel overwhelmed we'll take a look to remind ourselves of what we'll have when it's over.

Below are a series of photos that shows where we are now with the butt ugly boat (the "before" photos on top) and where we want to end up (the "after" photos below):

The salon:

The master stateroom:

Your room (the guest stateroom).

Don't worry that we'll pressure you to come visit before we achieve the "after". Ain't nobody going to be sleeping on the butt ugly boat in it's current state--there might be cooties. And even if there aren't really cooties, it looks like a cootie-friendly environment and you wouldn't sleep a wink thinking about it.

And now I am off to attack the incredible backlog that's staring at me. More news and pix to follow.

Morley's Recovery and Info about my Bail

We are now in Day Five of Morley's post surgical recovery and even though things have gone exactly as the surgeon had predicted, they haven't gone exactly the way Morley had planned. His idea was that he'd be a teeny wee bit under the weather for a day or two, then miraculously bounce back to normal around Wednesday--you know, the SuperMorley effect. That didn't happen.

On Monday he was in the happy place thanks to morphine shots and pain killers. On Tuesday he was still cruising a little on the residual effects of all those meds, plus it was only Day Two and his attitude was good due to his expectation that a full and complete recovery would take place any minute.

And then came Wednesday. And Thursday. And Friday.

Once it became clear that a spontaneous full recovery was not going to happen, he was not only no longer in the happy place, he took up full time residence in the dark and cranky place. He was in pain, out of sorts and ver-r-r-r-y testy, so on Wednesday we decided to come up to the boat in hopes that a pleasant atmosphere would put him in a better frame of mind. In hindsight that was maybe not the best decision. You try being cooped up with a grouchy patient in a one bedroom boat for three days and let's see how well you do. If you don't have a cranky patient handy, substitute a grizzy bear with its paw caught in a animal trap. Same thing.

He was just as grouchy and cranky as he'd been at home, just in a smaller space, so to keep my mind off murderous thoughts and homicidal fantasies, I stayed busy cleaning the cupboards in the bedroom and bathroom. Not only did I manage to stay (mostly) out of the line of fire, but in the process I raised the boat up in the water by a couple of inches by tossing out a bunch of crap that had found its way onboard over the years. My cleaning frenzy coupled with the liberal use of the phrase "whatever you say, dear" got us through the last three days without either of us ripping the head off the other. But just barely.

As I write this it is just after dawn on Saturday morning and we're sitting in the salon having coffee. Morley is reading a good book and watching the Science channel, and so far so good. He even called me "honey" and poured my coffee this morning. These are good signs that he's returning to his usual cheerful self.

But just in case, until we get thru this recovery process please keep a little cash handy because I might need it for bail money. Don't worry about me though--there's not a jury on Earth that would convict me. I'm just saying.

PS: After I finally got a chance to check my emails and saw people were worried about a tumor returning, it dawned on me that I'd never actually said what the surgery was for. It was a hernia--a big 'un.

Two quick items:

First, the update on Morley. He sailed through the surgery this morning and is now lying on the den sofa reading staring blankly at a magazine. He is in very little pain, or more precisely he is feeling no pain due to the fact that his going-away gift from the hospital was a shot of morphine and he's been snacking on hydrocodone ever since. Let's just say he's in a happy place tonight and we'll see how things go tomorrow.

And the other thing is this quiz I found on the internet that will score your performance as a husband or wife according to 1930's standards. Check out my score. And that's all I have to say about that.

Well, maybe I should say one more thing about that: I took it twice because I didn't like the first result and the second time around I cut myself some slack with some of the questions. For example, I couldn't honestly say I ever "give husband a shampoo or manicure", but I have been known to take a shower with him so I figure that counts (oops, that might be TMI. Sorry about that) (see earlier comment about blabbing everything I know on the internet).

By the way, Jim R would score 100% on that quiz--he spoils my sister rotten. I've always liked that about him.

89 As a 1930s wife, I am Very Superior Take the test!

Surgery and a Bargain

Those two things--surgeries and bargains--are only slightly related, but since they're happening at the same time we'll just rock with it.

First the surgery. Morley is having one today, and if you aren't in the loop on this one it is because he wanted to keep it quiet. He worries that all these surgeries might make our clients think he's falling apart and it might be bad for business. I think he's worrying unnecessarily since we are still working ungodly hours and have more work than we can shake a stick at, but I went with the plan because that's just the kind of cooperative chick I am. And for those of you who think I blab everything I know on the internet....ha. I showed you I can keep a secret after all. Oh wait. It's Morley who thinks I blab everything on the internet. My bad.

We check in the hospital this morning and hopefully we'll be back home by dinner time, and then we lay around for a week. Actually Morley gets to lay around while my role is to hover about fetching orange juice and magazines and nagging him to do what the doctors say. Fortunately nagging is one of my life skills so the next week ought to be smooth sailing. Not.

He's (very) cranky to be out of the game for yet another week but glad to be getting it over with and being pain free. Its bugging him that he's having another surgery so soon after the Great Tumor Caper, but I tell him it's just one of those things--it's pretty much like buying a new car. At first all you need to do is change the oil and put more air in the tires every once in awhile, but eventually when you get a few miles on that baby you have to get a major tune up at the dealership. Let's just say if Morley was a car, he's ready for the 100,000 mile tune up where they change out the points, plugs, and brake shoes, and flush his radiator. Hypthothetically speaking.

And now, the deal on that bargain. Since Morley has been unable to do much physical labor around the house and is now forbidden to lift anything heavier than a fork for awhile, yesterday I decided to take care of one long-delayed chore myself: the dreaded and long-procrastinated mulch project in the back yard. We need mulch really, really bad since we are still under watering restrictions and my flowers stay thirsty most of the time.

It was hot as blazes yesterday but after I washed the mountain of laundry that had accumulated over the past couple of weeks, I headed off to my favorite Lowe's to buy an SUV full of cypress mulch. The ladies in the garden center know I'm an avid gardener, and while I was waiting in line to order 30 bags of cypress mulch one of them came up to me and asked what I was driving. When I said I was driving my SUV, she pulled me aside and offered me a deal: an entire 5 shelf rack of potted perennials for $10. They had already finished blooming which means weekend warrior gardeners won't buy them, but they were still good plants and needed a home.

Bummer. With our ridiculous work schedule plus Morley's surgery and recovery, the timing could not have been worse. As much as I love plants--and a bargain--I really, really don't have time for a major planting project. So I regretfully explained to her that although I would dearly love to take her up on the deal but due to being overloaded with work and surgeries it would be nuts--insane!--for me to take home a couple hundred plants right now.

Meet my new plants:

What? You think I'm crazy? Of COURSE I took the deal--$603 worth of plants for $10? No brainer. So I loaded up the SUV with lots and lots and lots of plants and now I just have to figure out how to get them in the ground without Morley's help on the business end of the shovel and/or tiller. (Loretta, I'll save some of the lilies for you--I think I got about 30 or 40 of them, plus multiple clematis so I'll save some of those for you too).

And now I have to run upstairs and get dressed to take His Royal Hind End to the hospital, but I'll leave you with some photos I made in the backyard yesterday when I was recovering from heat stroke after the major mulching project:


And here's a shot of Morley sitting on the bench by the pond watching me work:

It bugged him that he couldn't help me lift those bags of mulch but he did go behind me collecting up the plastic bags as I emptied them.

And here's a shot of Shelby reacting to the hot summer day with her ears folded back into their full teddy bear position for optimal cooling effect:

I'll post an update on His Royal Hind End's post surgical progress later tonight.

News from the Colonoscopy Clinic

Morley sailed thru his colonoscopy this morning except for the small detail of him not being sedated very much, as in he was awake enough to hear all of it and feel most of it. In all his prior procedures he's been so zonked out that he hardly remembered a thing afterwards and certainly didn't feel discomfort like he did this morning.

I don't know why Morley's doctor was so stingy with the good stuff, but when it comes to anesthesia I'm with Colonel Klink--I want to hear nuttink and see nuttink. I made a mental note that before I have my first colonoscopy I'll make sure the doc is clear on my requirements for copious amounts of meds during any procedure involving long probes wandering around in my colon and strangers' faces inches away from my butt. Seriously.

But back to Morley and his colonoscopy. First, the good news: no sign of the former Mega Tumor. The not so good news: in just six short months new polyps had sprouted in the same general area where the tumor used to be. The surgeon removed them for testing so we'll know more about that when the lab results are back.

To tell you the truth, we aren't all that upset about those new polyps yet--just another part of my quest to teach Morley the Worrier Supreme not to worry about things until they deserve to be worried about. The diagnosis might likely be nothing more than Morley is a prolific polyp producer who requires frequent de-polyping.

So the bottom line--unintentional colon joke, I swear--is we weren't thrilled about the new polyps and Morley isn't thrilled that the surgeon wants another follow up colonoscopy in three months, but in general the procedure went well. And on the bright side, I can report that our much anticipated post-colonoscopy breakfast at IHOP was awesome.

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Englishmen in Rubber Gloves

Tomorrow marks a big day in the saga of Morley and his (former) Mega Tumor: his six month colonoscopy to make sure that bad daddy tumor is really, truly gone.

The doctor took a preliminary look-see a couple of weeks ago and reported things look great but tomorrow's test will tell the real tail...er, the real "tale" I meant to say. (Sorry about that. Even after all this time the colon jokes are hard to pass. Up. Hard to pass up.)

Okay, I think I have the colon jokes out of my system for now. Moving on.

Needless to say, there is a new Colo rectal specialist in the picture now. We jilted the original surgeon at the proverbial surgical altar, so the Mayo Clinic hooked us up with a new guy here in Atlanta. He's not only a Mayo Clinic grad but an Englishman to boot. The minute Morley heard his homeboy accent he just knew he was in the very best rubber gloved hands.

Unlike the first doctor who was so full of himself that it was impossible to talk to him for more than five minutes at a time, this guy seems to have all the time in the world to talk with his patients. Morley tells me the topics discussed during office visits range from his current bowel habits to favorite childhood pub foods to thoughtful comparisons of English ales (he's a Speckled Hen kind of guy, by the way). The point here being that the doctor-patient relationship is a hundred times better than the one we had with Dr. Goofball, the original surgeon. (And on a personal note, I can report some improvement in my ability to think about beer and poop being discussed in the same conversation without feeling slightly queasy.)

We report to the Outpatient Center tomorrow morning at 6:30 AM for the colonoscopy and hope to report to the nearest Waffle House around 11:00 so Morley can eat his first meal in 24 hours. I'll keep you posted on how the test results turn out, but not to worry--we already know they'll be good.

All's well when the End is well. Bottom's Up. The End.

Okay, I'm done now.


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