Christian Ross

Quick hits…

Who knows how quick this may end up. It’s 3:03a and I’m not sure if I am awake or ‘sleep-typing.’

1. Some of you have probably heard that I decided 6/27/07 would be a great day to start breathing again. Since February, I have had what was once thought of as a sinus infection on the right side of my face. After multiple visits with PA’s and doctors’s, uncountable numbers of needles full of steroids and anti-inflammatory medicine, 3 separate prescriptions, my body’s weight in Mucinex-D and NyQuil, and two CT-Scans of my head, my doctor decided the only answer was the knife.

If you know me any at all, you probably know that I’m not a huge fan of any of the above but the needles and knives are really where I draw the line. I can think of many other things in life I would rather endure than either of the aforementioned. Including, but not limited too:

1. a rousing round of ‘basketball head,’ in which my head contacts the pavement in a repetitive motion until blurred vision is a lifetime enjoyment
2. eating any food related item without removing the onions that never should have been included in the first place
3. watching ‘The Notebook’

My doctor chose none of which to put me through, opting rather for the surgery. My first.

In the week or so leading up, I felt like I handled it well. Convincing some that a decision had been made by Mel and I that one kid was enough, and listening to the umpteen stories by friends at church of how they had been through the same procedure (nose stuff, not other) and how they recognized it as the worst thing they had ever endured physically. Until Monday night.

I enjoy David Letterman on occasion but probably don’t catch it more than about once a month. It just so happened that we had some friends over and wanted some background noise to our poker hands. Apparently, Mr. Letterman recently was subject to the same procedure I was about to be the following morning. At this point, most people find that ignorance is bliss. I guess I’m not most people. What proceeded to follow was his explanation of the entire process and show-and-tell of the approximately 14-inch splints removed from his nose after the healing process. The doctor mentioned to me on one occasion that I too would be having ‘splints’ in my nose to hold it in place but like most smart people knowing the fast 180 degree turn in decision I would make, failed to mention that I was getting commercial grade PVC pipes shoved up there found at your local Lowes (or Home Depot if you prefer).

Thanks a lot Letterman. There was no calming the nerves with obligatory Paris Hilton jail jokes after such a display. Needless to say, sleep was a little hard to explain Tuesday evening.

Wednesday came around without a visit from Jesus to save me from my misery and somehow my wife got me to get up and fill paperwork in the lobby of the Grapevine Surgicenter at Baylor. I will give this to the old Surgicenter, they know the time limits people like me will give before talking myself out of it and walking out the door. Needless to say, they wasted no time in handing me my patterned-green hospital gown (again, a first).

With years of counseling and possibly a turn to heavy drinking, I will someday hope to block out the following situation. Most of what I care to remember or share today was a warm blanket, a lady who liked mornings entirely too much, feeling like Ford Focus on one of Henry Ford’s great ideas (the assembly line), way too many questions being asked only to divert my attention, and signing off on documents that pointed out my options in recovery included blindness and death. Braille anyone?

I will admit those were the good parts. The IV was not. Without even having to point out, it will hopefully be one blocked out over time.

After the nurses decided to move on to the silver Focus to my left, I had a few moments to reflect on all the choices I made in lead-up to my current situation. And at several moments where bail out might have been a better option.

Next in line was my doctor, Dr. Railsback, who popped in for a moment to check on me in between his need to perform radiator work on the red Focus two up from me and the aforementioned silver job discussing his Monday colonoscopy with his mechanic.

Last, but certainly not least, was the anesthesiologist to explain the medicine process and the waking up process and the nurse that would be helping the doctor through surgery. Nice guy, but like most, felt the need to share his story of enduring the same surgery. Wasn’t much better in his story-telling. Side-note: At this point, I feel like the entire process is almost like ‘Rush Week’ (or semester for real schools) into fraternities. Once you’re in, you give the pain just like you took it. It’s almost a prize to get to share how unbelievably bad my next week would be. Glad to be a part of the club. I make no promises that I don’t ‘spice’ up my future stories to the freshmen class.

At that point, the anesthesiologist whipped out his handy-dandy syringe and went to town. Here’s where things get a little blurry. I somewhat remember them sending out my lovely wife at that point and then pushing my car off the line towards the exit door. I believe a left was made, then a right into the operating room. I’m pretty sure at that point, I became what my wife refers to as a ‘non-compliant patient.’ I will ask next week when I make a return visit for more details but I’m not exactly sure it was one of my finer moments. There was either copious amounts crying like a 2-year old girl or I decided only one man was coming out alive of that room and I was danged sure it was going to be me. And scene.

Next thing I know, I am slowly adapting to light equivalent of the sun and doing everything in my power to open my eyes, including as my wife pointed out pulling my eyelids upward and open since they hardly worked on their own. I was in a out for a few moments, maybe more like an hour, trying to regain consciousness. The icepack felt decent and I was quite surprised at how the medicine seemed to be working. The pain in my head really had nothing on the pain in my bladder. I was a little upset though when the nurse asked if there was anything I needed, and I let her know of that one thing but had to end up waiting till the Indian-torture device know as the blood pressure cuff on my arm squeezed one more cycle.

Most everything that followed was pretty uneventful. I got to attempt to use the restroom and change out of my surgical prom-dress in hopes that I would soon be headed home. I was. My pain was pretty minimal and I wasn’t throwing up. I guess that’s what it takes to get out of the hospital. The thing I noticed the most though was the fact that even with a gauze-mustache in place, I was able to breath out of two nostrils and not just one.

A nice nurse walked me out the back door, where Mel had gone to get the truck and told me I needed to get better soon so that I could be a good daddy. Not sure of the correlation at the time, I probably could have mistaken her for most anyone including jailed Paris Hilton.

The rest of the day I spent taking a few naps, taking medication, trying to help Mel all the while she was trying to help me. I can see that she is definitely good at what she does, I would just prefer from this day forward that is able to keep her work at work. No more procedures for me.

My clock now reads 4:12a, at this point this post wouldn’t be considered anything even close to Quick. More like the James Michener of blog posts. But I am up and really don’t have much else that I would like to accomplish at this hour. So, you can continue reading or check out like I probably will do once awake.

2. As I think back to the two mentions of Paris Hilton above, I guess they may have come around due to the picture found on the internet today. Whilst spending her days enjoying slop and 23 hours solitary confinement, I guess Paris found her inner Michaelangelo or Picasso. Though only a pencil drawing, I can see her potential here. The drawing was created and sent to TMZ.com, a celebrity gossip site that has been known in the past for fabricating the truth and creating stories by fun tactics like running into celebrities’ cars and posting pictures of the accident. Quality practices if you ask me…

Anyways, apparently Paris looks past tactics like the above and really enjoys reading the site that follows her on a daily basis. So much so that she drew them a picture. And a quick hand written note that looks like a 14-year old would right. I can foresee a day when I take her penmanship and turn it into a great new typography, including the hearts in place of dots over each “i.” Good luck with your budding career Paris, I am guessing you’ll always have your talent fall back upon when daddy wises up and cuts you off.

3. Without rehashing the encounter in number 1 above, Mel and I had a pretty good weekend. The scheduled lake day at the Huston’s was enjoyable on Saturday and then picking up and spending time with one of my college roommates (Craig) and his fiancee (Lisa) starting Sunday was fun as well. I will follow with some pictures later but over the course of a couple of days we got to eat lots of good food, catch a Rangers came (inevitable loss), visit Dealy Plaza, the Grassy Knoll, and tour the JFK museum of which Mel and I had never done in the almost six years of DFW residence.

We also grilled some burgers Monday night, watched a little Napoleon D, and played some Texas Hold ‘EM. Good times were had by all. We dropped them off at the airport this evening about 6:45p so they could get back to Colorado Springs and work tomorrow (today). I hope that I can get up there for the wedding in September even though I am guessing Mel will be put on the no travel list.

4. I’ve pointed out on this here weblog before that I love a good rain. I also believe I have mentioned my desire for it to stay outside of my house if at all possible. One of the above desires came true today. Hint: It wasn’t having to pull up my bedroom carpet for the second time in a month tonight. I am guessing we will be making a phone call soon to the guy who put in the French Drains several years ago. They don’t seem to be working very well.

Well, at 4:38a I believe that I have run out of things to say. If you want to lead singing for me at church tonight, just leave me a comment and I will pass the word on for you.

I always like to thank those who made it this far, still pretty convinced that it’s only one (thanks Mom). But to any other troopers, thanks to you too. If I were reading it, I would have printed it by now and used it as ‘research’ for the bathroom.