Archive | February, 2012

How Much Maury Can One Esme Watch?

20 Feb

Enough to have a ‘Maury Name Of The Day’ contest with a fellow blogger on Facebook, and be depressed when I saw nothing good on today’s episode. Cath, I have failed you. But I have seen some interesting names on Intervention….

Fab Mom may have come to the rescue, for a while at least. She called me the other day and told me she signed me up for Netflix. Why? She couldn’t stomach seeing my ‘Maury Name Of The Day’ posts anymore. For whatever reason, I am forever grateful.

The first thing I did (and I’m still at Loverboy’s), was add The Walking Dead to my instant queue. I am NOT a zombie fan. I didn’t sleep for two days after watching Dawn Of The Dead. So why am I doing this to myself? Loverboy is a die-hard fan, and I was intrigued after watching an episode with him. And damn it if I don’t feel the need to catch up from day one. I’ve watched two episodes so far, and I’m convinced there is a zombie in the closet upstairs. I keep hearing a very loud, very long creaking noise. I refuse to text Loverboy while he’s at work, so I will make him shoot the zombie in the head when he gets home. I did learn how to kill a zombie!



I’m Alive! But A Bit Broken…

17 Feb

I had my surgery, and once they were in there, the doctor found that the damage was more then he anticipated. He had to put metal anchors into my shoulder to stabilize everything. Once I woke up, the doctor told me that instead of starting physical therapy in two weeks, I had to wait four. That was not what I wanted to hear, but I accepted it. What else could I do?

After a night in the hospital, Loverboy took me home, and he and my fabulous mother took care of me around the clock. I could do nothing for myself. Nothing. As an independent woman, this killed me.

A week passed, and it was time for Fab Mom to head home. Loverboy came to check up on me every morning before work, and every night after. But for twelve plus hours, I was alone. My pain level hadn’t decreased, my range of motion wasn’t increased. But people had to get on with their life, and I understood that.

Do you think I laid on the couch hour after hour like I was supposed to? Of course not.

I really really wanted a shower. Really bad. I called Loverboy at work, and asked him to come by after work to help me. Esme, he said, tonight is the one night I can’t. Remember I told you that Son has a basketball game? Well shit…was I supposed to remember that during a narcotic-induced haze? Probably…

Once a thought is in my mind, not much can derail it. I hoisted myself off the couch, painfully got myself undressed, and took a shower. While I was in the shower, I twisted my arm the wrong way. Holy Fucking Shit. I got out, air-dried because it hurt too much to towel myself off, and crawled back to my spot on the couch. After a while, the pain was worse, I needed meds I couldn’t reach, I needed ice for my ice machine for my shoulder, I couldn’t stop crying, and I could finally admit to myself I needed help. At ten at night, I dialed Loverboy.

Ten minutes later he and his son were at my house, packing up everything I would need for the next week. They took me home with them, and I’ve been here ever since.

The next day loverboy took me to my doctor. I was given an injection of strong pain needs because that I was incredibly stupid and hard-headed pain continued to get worse overnight. I also found out that instead of starting therapy four weeks post-surgery, I now had to wait eight. EIGHT. As in two months. And not only that, I can’t lift my arm until then. So I still need help with EVERYTHING.

So I’m still at Loverboy’s. He has been amazing. Absolutely amazing. I’ve told him a couple of times to take me home so he can have a break. He doesn’t. Every morning he sets me up for the day. His daughter helps me before she leaves. When Loverboy comes home he feeds me, helps me with what I need. At night he gives me a shower and tucks me in. His boys are teaching me to play Call of Duty. We play board games, and I help them with homework. In all honesty, it couldn’t go any better. I just hate the fact I need the help. But they are all helping me without complaint, and with a smile.

I still have over a month until I get the all-clear to start therapy. Will Loverboy keep me here until then? I don’t know. But everything he does do, I appreciate more than anything. He has been an absolute Godsend. I truly lucked out with this guy. And I wish I could find a way to pay back all of it.

Yep, I love him. I am in love with Loverboy! I just wish I had the guts to tell him. Someday. As for right now, all he wants from me is to get better. And for once, I’m actually doing what I am supposed to be doing. Sitting on his couch with ice on my shoulder watching Maury…and nothing else.

Much love,