1. You do a LOT of things 1-handed. By far the most challenging is eating a burrito with your right hand while burping the baby on the left.   I’ve gotten so good at the football hold that I can cook and still manage to keep the baby’s head away from the heat.
2. The best analogy I have heard to date (Mikhail) is that a new baby is like a campfire in your living room.  You need to keep an eye on it, carry it carefully, and always have a place to put it wherever you are headed.   If you are not careful, the campfire will cause damage to the property around it.
3. Watching the nurse give the baby her first bath was enlightening.  Not to say the nurse was “rough”, but darn she was quick about it.   This alone gave me the confidence to “manhandle” the baby like trussing a turkey (for diapering) or rolling out pizza dough (for wipe-downs).   Putting on new gowns is it’s own bit of rodeo wrangling!
4. Speaking of diapers and baths and all that — don’t worry about it.  The baby might scream but she will live and forgive you and you will be much much better at it by the 100th time you drag your weary ass out of bed to deal with it (which happens about 1 week into becoming a new parent).   Definitely one of the fastest learn-as-you-go cycles to be had anywhere!
5. Trading off and/or putting down the screaming baby and walking away is one of the sanest things you can do after being screamed at nonstop.  Heck, I can’t figure out (or fix) all of her problems, especially that breastfeeding part.
6. The new camera has definitely been worth the investment.  Before you know it, she’s learning to smile and laugh!
   

   Problem: I needed 2 hands to carry the warm laundry up the stairs. Solution shown.

7. If someone you know offers to come over and hold the baby, you take them up on it so that you can get some sleep or eat a meal (with 2 hands).
8. It is far too easy to talk about your child’s main accomplishment, and by that I mean poopy diapers.  On the other hand, it is very difficult to not become “one of those parents” that always refers to diaper incidents.   Like the time I woke up at 6 in the morning only to be shotgunned by projectile poop that went 9 feet across the room (true story).
9. Butt Paste is a real product (although not our favorite in the breed, since it smells like vanilla and that just ruins creme brulee for me).  Oh, and as our pediatrician informed us, it really helps to frost the baby’s cookies every diaper change.
10. Be prepared to wash your hands a LOT (see previous 2 items).  While purell-type stuff “sterilizes” it also dries the crap out of your hands and chaps your skin.  Get some good smelling hand-soap and some lotion to boot.
11. Staring at the baby is a time-consuming task.  Your entire day can be sucked up watching the baby just sit there.   Not sure why I stare at the baby…..it just happens!
12. Cats don’t get jealous…heck they don’t even seem interested in being in the room when she screams at us.   As far as they are concerned, the baby is not food nor is it a provider of food.  It is merely a source of loud noise.
    

    Dagny at just over 8 pounds next to Boris at just over 16 pounds!

13. It is very important to have the next 2 hour block of time planned. By the time the feeding/diapering block has occurred you have a scant window of 1 hour to accomplish something before the fussing begins to start the next feeding/diapering block.
14. Babies can stink like Starbucks.  You know what I’m talking about, too….that nasty rotten milk smell that pervades the chain of McCoffee shops.   We found that lots of spot-cleaning helped keep our stinky baby smelling baby fresh.
15. The 5 S’s and a fast problem-solving triage are key (a la Happiest Baby On The Block) for limiting the crying.  I can quiet a baby in seconds with some loud shushing and the shaking really lulls them off, while the super tight swaddling keeps them there.  As for “side-lying” and “sucking”, those 2 are overrated but sometimes necessary.  My favorite hold in the early days was what I call “The Cocktail Shaker”.  Guaranteed to put baby to sleep in 5 minutes.
16. Burp Cloths! We thought we had a lot of them, but this item was always our limiter for laundry load cycles.   We have since bolstered our ranks and can go almost an entire day without having to do burp cloth laundry.
17. We totally did not have our co-sleeping arrangement setup properly for when we came home.   Turns out we needed a nightlight for those late night feedings and diaper changes.   We also needed a comfortable place for those late night feedings and by day 2 the recliner moved downstairs into the bedroom.   That said, the Graco Pack and Play with the integral diaper changing station has been key to our survival!
18. Having loads of recorded shows ready-to-go on the Tivo really helped in the first 2 weeks when the baby simply did not want to sleep.   The baby and I both enjoyed catching up and Dirty Jobs.
19. You just figure it out, they gain weight and grow, and somewhere amidst the exhaustion, when they start smiling back at you, it makes it all worth while……especially when the smiling to crying ratio begins exceeding 1!

Introduction to the Background

Some minor differences were found with Pantoufle. Daddy was sad to find out she wasn't a goalie!

What follows are the long-winded persona recap of how our beautiful daughter came into this world.  You may not find it interesting, and that is all right.  Perhaps this recollection is written more for Steph & I and our new daughter (years from now).  It is as frank and honest and details how our daughter came into this world.

Background to the Preludes

Steph had a picture-perfect pregnancy.   No morning sickness at all.   Little or no complications (other than being tired, short-winded and hungry) to speak of.  A minor concern regarding platelet levels. Typical but well-managed concerns regarding RH factors and Group B Strep, etc etc.    Sure, during the first ultrasound, there were some abnormalities (our little Pantoufle didn’t look like was going to be born a goalie).

Steph on Game Day in the new kitchen -- 9 months in.

If anything, our biggest worry was completing a major home renovation in time for Red (with help) to move a 9 month pregnant wife and still leave time in the day for nesting (e.g. setup of all the baby furniture and fixtures).
While we were seriously hoping for a Halloween baby, she decided to be stubborn and make us wait.   Well, she was worth the wait!

Prelude to the Prelude

It all started sometime around midnight…. to mom they felt like a few simple practice contractions.   I was upstairs taking care of some additional work and such and finally came down around 1am.   When I saw that Steph was still awake, I new that these were too strong and too regular to be basic practice contractions — this was the real deal.

Until around dawn, Steph would hop out of bed every 8 – 10 minutes and do some pretty intense breathing while simultaneously hunching over.   I managed to get about 3 hours of sleep that night (Steph got none) and the next morning the contractions were in the 5-6 minute range.   We had a good breakfast of french toast and sausage (possibly our last meal for quite some time).   Around 9:30, the contractions seemed to be hitting the every 4-5 minute time frame and Steph no longer had the luxury or time to go back into the bedroom and get some privacy for her “discomfort”.     We called in the the Ob-Gyn office for a “labor check” and were in the office shortly after 10am.   (Sounds easy, but every try walking a couple of hundred yards up towards the Ob-Gyn office while labor pains are progressing).

Sadly, all that work and only 1cm — they sent us home and told Steph to keep at it and call at the end of the day if things had stopped or picked up.

Prelude

Throughout lunch and all afternoon, we tried to watch some TV to get Steph’s mind off of things.  This involved routinely hitting the pause button on the Tivo and then hitting the “lap” button on the iPhone stopwatch app.   With the aid of the stopwatch, Steph went through contractions every 5 minutes for the better part of 4 hours.   By around 4:30pm, we felt it was time to call in and get another “labor check” done.  Surely, something had happened by this point.

So, we end up grabbing all of our pre-packed bags and driving to the hospital.  Once again, sounds easier than it is to drive a contracting moaning woman and then make her walk a hundred yards to get to reception desk.  With my hands full and Steph moaning, I am forced to fill out some silly H1N1 notepad of paper saying that we are not sneezing and not going to infect everybody.

The nurse escorts into one of the private birthing rooms and they have Steph strip down completely.   At that point, we wait for 10 minutes and then they come back and hook Steph up to the fetal and contraction monitors.  Steph is still contracting every 3-5 minutes and after another long 10 minute wait it is time for the L&D handshake.

Steph on the night we hoped to give birth, dressed as the Pillsbury Dough Boy!

Steph was still “a loose 1 cm” according to the abrupt nurse on staff.   Steph requested pain medication (request being a nice way of saying pleaded/demanded).  They got ready to go get Steph a little morphine for the pain.

When the short-tempered nurse came back with the dose of morphine (which she jabbed into Steph’s thigh) she chided us for essentially “wasting her time” by not recognizing “early labor” versus “active labor”.   We pleaded innocent, what part about 8+ hours of 5 minute contractions did they not understand?  What part of 3 minute intervals did we get wrong.   The horrible nurse seemed to doubt our ability to count and I threatened to bust out my iPhone and show her the endless hours of lap counting contraction timings.

We asked the nurse to tell us in no uncertain terms what metrics we should use for a return visit to the hospital.   Since contraction timing is clearly bogus, and I don’t know how to check cervix dilation, what do we wait for.   As if the nurse didn’t hear us, she basically told us to “go away”.     It sounded like we need to keep away until (a) Steph’s water broke or (b) Steph was in so much pain she requested a bullet to the head.

Lude

I’m pretty convinced the morphine that they gave Steph was a placebo.   She crunched in labor pain the entire car ride home and claimed to only be a little bit sleepy.   We got home sometime around 8pm (having missed dinner) and Steph decided she would try to go to the bedroom and lie down and “rest”.   Checking in on her around 8:15, I tried to also lie down but we were in the “don’t come near me” stage of labor.

And so, having only gotten 3 hours of sleep in the last 36 hours, I went upstairs to try to get some shuteye. I set my alarm needlessly, for less than an hour later, I was awoken by the moans that filled the house.

Did I mention that the 2-hour old morphine shot must clearly have been a placebo.

For the next 2 1/2 hours, Steph enjoyed the moaning pain of labor every 3 minutes (longest span was 4-5 and the shorter clusters were 2 apart).  Most of this time was spent cross-legged on the bed with me trying to stay awake and give her a back massage.   Occasionally, Steph would nod off during the 1 minute break between contractions and then awaken in even worse state.

It turns out that breath control for pain management only works if you start ahead of the contraction or very early in the contraction.  Waking up at the peak of a contraction completely caught Steph off-gaurd and made “pain management” impossible.

Another thing that did not work was lying on her side.   However, after 2 hours in cross-legged or on all fours, Steph was running out of energy.  Side-lying just made things even more painful and was a last-ditch effort to last a little longer.

The “good news” in all this, is that her contractions were so regular that I was able to give Steph 1 minute of sleep and then watch my stopwatch and provide a quick “get ready the next one is coming” warning.  This would wake Steph up enough to begin her breathing and mostly manage the intense pain.

Surrender

After midnight at some point, a mere 24 hours into the process with 12 hours of 5-minute spacing and more than 3 hours of intense 3-minute spacing, Steph looked at me and said “that’s it, I cannot take it anymore, please call”.

I called the after hour number and gave them the information and was promised a call back from a physician shortly.   30 LONG MINUTES (that’s 10 contractions) LATER WE HAD NOT RECEIVED A CALL BACK! Finally, I picked up the phone and started to dial — only to be interrupted by an inbound call from the on-call doctor.

We explained the contraction timing and the pain and that we had already been rejected twice by doctors. We simply did not want to come in one more time and get rejected.   The doctor promised us that they would hold Steph this time for sure.

Getting to the Car

The next 10 minutes are in grave detail, because it turns out that getting a heavily contracting woman to the car is nearly impossible.    Here’s what we did.

First, we waited for a contraction and then tried to put some clothes on Steph.  Oh wait, did I forget to mention that a tired and laboring woman really really cannot handle having clothes on her body?  We found an ugly and very loose skirt and some socks and shoes.    This process took 2 or 3 contractions to get through.

Second, Red ran out to the car with the bags and shoved them in there and came back for Steph just in time for the next contraction.  Then, Steph stood up and we got another contraction in without falling to the floor.

And it was GO-time.

We quickly (slowly shuffled) our way to the front door.   Not quick enough, by the time we got out the front door and had it locked, Steph was contracting on the front porch. Ouch.  This gave us the next span of time to barely make it all the way across the street (our ass**** neighbor across the street can’t seem to park his care in front of his own house) while simultaneously having a contraction.

So there we are shortly after 12:30 and I manage to wedge Steph (moaning loudly for the block to hear) into the passenger seat, but she won’t swivel and put on her seat belt.

Another contraction, and then another (moaning at midnight, great for the neighborhood) and then Steph looks at me and says something neither one of us will forget nor will we share to broadly.   Just as we are about to act on that, the ***hole neighbor opens his front door to figure out what the moaning noise is.  I shout in his direction “don’t worry she’s just laboring” and he shuts his door.

Enough is enough, so I pick up Steph’s legs and swivel her into the car and close the door.  A long (10 minute = 3-4 contractions) drive to the hospital and park in the after hours lot.

Arriving

We begin walking up towards the entry way when Steph gets hit by a good one and ends up leaning over a garbage can for support and moaning.

Some dude in the parking lot sees us and shouts at me that we should get a wheelchair for her, and lo-and-behold there is one sitting in the bushes nearby.  He is kind enough to go and get the chair and help us seat Steph in it.   (Thanks, Dude!!!)   This enables me to wheel her the last 20 yards to the entrance.

Once again, the nursing station makes me fill out some silly H1N1 contagion form while Steph leans over their counter and moans in pain.   They inform us that all of their private rooms are full (busy night in the L&D ward) and we are escorted into the surgery recovery room where we have a small bit of space to drop our 4 bags.

Progress

The nurse (Janice, super nice) hooks Steph up to the contraction and fetal chart meter.  Super cool, I can see that Steph’s contractions are indeed 2-3 minutes apart and OFF THE CHART!  (Seriously, she had the thing pegged).   Steph asked the really important question “When can I get an epidural”, and the nurse told Steph she could get a shot of fenegan <sp?>.

The “good” news is that this time the L&D handshake revealed that Steph had made it to 5cm!!  Halfway!!

At this point we are around 1:00AM and the nurse has gotten an IV situated (amazing job on a woman writing in pain).  My hand is like ground meat from the Steph-squeezing.  Pantoufle (codename for the baby) is hanging in there with a 150-180 hbpm rate.   Steph was busy dancing around on the bed and moaning.

The nurse puts the painkiller into Steph’s IV to “take the edge off”.  Guess what — didn’t work, but it did manage to space the contractions back out to every 5 minutes (weird, huh?).

At this point, the nurse also administers the first of two penicillin drips that are required.   We are informed that it would be bad for Pantoufle to show up in less than 4 hours at this point.   It is now 2am and Steph had been laboring for 26 hours.

Approaching Relief

Sometime between 1:30 and 2:30am we go to meet with the dude that laboring woman love:  the anesthesiologist.  He was awaiting lab tests (Steph has low platelets and this can be a serious complication) and would end up getting pulled into an emergency C-section, so Steph was second in line and still writing in pain every 5 minutes (in spite of a second dose of that Fenegan stuff).

The “good news” is that one of the private rooms was opened up and we could be moved there for Steph to continue her efforts.

Sometime around 3:30am, the L&D handshake put Steph at 7cm dilated!!!   Oh, and Steph was finally able to get her epidural.   Compared to the 2 contractions she went through during the procedure, the procedure itself was painless.   I’ve never seen her hold so still, actually.   When asked, Steph actually says she only under went about 27 hours of labor…. because once the epidural took effect (around 4am), things got much much better.

Blessed Sleep

From around 4am to around 7am, both Steph and I slept hard while her body continued to work — all pain masked by the epidural.   Sure, we were woken up every 30 minutes by the nursing staff, but that extra 3 hours of rest was key.  Remember, Steph’s labor started late and her last nap or wink of sleep was 6pm, 34 hours before!

Sometime around 7am that morning, another L&D handshake from our new nurse (Stephanie, a 4-foot tall woman with incredible talent) revealed that “you are at 10cm and we’ll be ready to push in about 15 minutes”.   Our on-call doctor confirmed as well.

The Final Stretch

By around 7:30/7:45, the stirrups were in place and all sorts of prep work was complete (blue cloths, metal devices, pans, pots, sauciers, etc etc etc).

Time to push.

So, I failed to mention that there were all sorts of cool monitoring devices and chart recorders and we could actually watch and see that Steph was contracting before she even knew it.  Not only that, the chart recorders for the L&D ward were all networked and the nurses could monitor the recorders on all 13 stations!   You could see other rooms contracting and pushing and delivering.   At one point we even (sadly) heard a Code White call (newborn not breathing) which was very quickly resolved as all the nurses dropped what they were doing and rushed to be on station.

Anyway — Stephanie (our 4 foot tall outstanding nurse) helped me lift Steph’s legs up and instruct Steph on how to push.  Don’t worry ladies, the nurses can tell you exactly what you need to know and do it in the short time between contractions.

With every push, Stephanie helped stretch Steph out to avoid the dreaded episiotomy.  Steph was a complete trooper and pushed hard.   For you partners out there…..be ready for the smell of labor (or of maconium laden amniotic fluid), as this does not come through on any of the videos that they show you.  Smells won’t bother you for long, as your focus narrows on the count-to-10 and intense effort of pushing.

The Actual Stretch

Within 30 minutes, the nurse told Steph “when you feel the next contraction, do NOT push — we need to go get the doctor now” and immediately paged the ward for the on-call physician.   Dr. G showed up within a few minutes and the pushing resumed.

Wow…. at one point, the doctor had to tell Steph to actually slow down on her pushing.  Needed to allow time for things to stretch out!   It was all going to fast.

Within 15 minutes (45 minutes of total pushing), our beloved daughter was born.    Dagny came out without a cone-head and Steph had (only?) type 2 lacerations and less than a dozen stitches.  There was some worry regarding blood loss shortly after birth and a little bit of a rush to get Steph a shot to help the clotting (but nothing major enough to merit running and panic).  That said, everybody was healthy!

An exhausted Steph & Red with our newest family member.

Finale & First Chapter

There are some things that cannot be unseen, that is for sure.  Delivery is not necessarily a pretty sight (or set of smells) while at the same time being profoundly beautiful (and relieving).  The exhaustion makes the entire experience feel out-of-body (Steph would agree).   In the end, everything is on auto-pilot and you do what the nurses tell you to do.

After 32+ hours of labor, our beautiful daughter came into this world at a reasonably sized 7lbs 11oz and 21″.  She showed up with red hair (for now) and a pink complexion.    It’s fitting that she showed up shortly after dawn, for we have chosen to name her Dagny (we give it the american pronunciation of “dag-knee”), from the Norse equating to “new day” or “dawn”.    Her middle name, Renee, is effectively “renew”. Put together, we like to say: “Every Day is a New Day” and now the first chapter begins.

Only a day old and she's trying to wear Mommy's hockey jersey.

Well…it’s off to Denver for Steph’s women’s hockey tournament. Boarded the plane in rainy-nasty San Jose and sat down next to a woman who was so filled with self importance that she had a once sided conversation on her cell phone un until they they started taxiing. We heard about her trip to the Netherlands, her 10 million dollar proposal, and how she did something for some guy and he certainly isn’t going to forget about it. This lady was annoying and loud. She just kept yapping—I’m positive that the person on the other end of the deal had already hung up the phone. Cheez.

Anyway…talk about a L-O-U-D flight. The air conditioning in the plane was cranked and people were yelling over it just to hear one another. Our ears were ringing when we landed in warm and sunny Denver (Yes….warm and sunny compared to cruddy San Jose weather).

Spent the afternoon wandering around 16th street in downtown Denver. Got a super sweet room on the corner with a full wrap-around window!!! Also got a to witness a full-on broad-daylight mugging outside the Walgreens. Lovely, really.

5/6/2005

Got to meet up with a long-time friend, Sarah, and her super sweet and ultra-cute son Thomas. Thomas is going to be a lady-killer, guaranteed!!! We had a tasty yummy breakfast at the “world famous” Eggshell in Cherry Creek. Sarah said that Thomas was a little tired and sort of “grouchy” because he hadn’t had his nap. I figured it was because Thomas simply wanted more flirting time with Steph…..Anyway for a “grouchy” guy he certainly was quiet and amazingly smiley.

Steph and I decided to hang a couple of hours at the Botanical Gardens. Lucky for us it was plant sale day and admission was FREE!! First off, su-ke-nah! The place is sweet and massive. It must be at least 300 yards long and at least 100 yards wide. Plants, flowers, cactii OH MY! I’ve never seen so many bright orange tulips and large expanses of purple flowers. There were themed areas and water fountains and ponds and benches and shrubs and more. Suffice to say that after an hour and a half we were dragging our feet (it was warm outside in the sun) and ready to head on our way. So we drove on up to Westminster, checked into our sweet suite (free internet!) and grabbed some lunch.

After lunch, it was off to the butterfly pavillion. At $8/person it was pricey, but almost worth it! Here are a few photos.

And now it’s time for the pre-game nap. Steph’s first hockey game is at 5:30……we’ll see how it goes.

Game 1 Post Game Report Well, the Burninators played 3 great periods of hockey. They outshot the other team (whosiewhatsits?) 35 to 10 and had at least 6 dynamite scoring opportunities. They dominated in the 2nd and 3rd periods and really brought it on. Unfortunately, the goalie on that other team (whatstheirnamesits) was standing on her head. She was a butterfly goalie with the ability to slide from post to post and catch even the most difficult of wrap-around attempts (in a beginner division no less). The Burninators even screened the goalie (to no luck) in an attempt to get the biscuit in the basket. Final score, 1 – 0 in favor of the whatsiwhosits. Regardless, well-played, I say….well played. Stay tuned for game 2, tomorrow morning.	Preparing to Burninate!	Steph in gear.
	Post game 1 mixer	Striking a pose

05/07/05

A late morning and down for a nasty “Continental Breakfast” a la the sweet suites. There were equally sized flat round objects in biscuit, waffle, sausage and egg flavors. We were invited to stack these round objects on top of one another and add some flavor with our condiment of choice. Unfortunately, the round breakfast foods were all semi-cold and the only condiment was ketchup. Blech.

Got to skate a little while on my new goalie skates…..which was an interesting shift. Almost fell on my ass a couple of times trying to do crossovers and stops, but eventually got the hang of the wide flat blades and was feeling almost natural (for a beginner that is). And then…..it was Burnination time.

Game 2 Post Game Report Looking a little tired this morning, the Burninators fought it out for three periods against the Cliffhangers 2 team. The Cliffhangers made it a point of turning the game into a check-fest. In fact, #31 on the Cliffhangers got called for a boarding penalty and a full on frontal check penalty and a trip. The frontal check was a brutal hit that nocked a burninator entirely off her feet. Needless to say, the ref’ing in this game was sub-par and perhaps a little bit biased towards the local team. As the game wore on, the Burninators got worn down and unfortunately frustrated. They had some geat shifts from every line, putting pucks towards the net, running it up the ice, holding it in the zone…but just couldn’t seem to do it. Unfortunately, Game 2 was a 2-0 loss….. But on fun notes, the post-game feast was a massive spaghetti fest for the entire time. Yum yum, sausage marinara sauce and salad oh my. I’ll admit…..I was so tired from cheering (at altitude) that I grubbed down. Looking forward to Burnination in Game 3!	Posing for Burnination!	Fangorious Stephinator.
	PreGame 2 Mixer.	PreGame 2 Mixer 2.

Game 3 Post Game Report The Burninators came out and dominated. I’ll update this section in a little bit. Suffice to say the game ended in a tie (3-3) with the Burninators scoring 2 of those goals in the last 5 minutes. The big scare of the night came when one of the (I will keep it clean…for the children) “women” on the Northern Lights (### to be specific) completely boarded one of our D while going at full speed. This left the Burninator (Heather) on the ice for several tense minutes and the Northern Light ### in the box. It was a nasty disgusting and totally ridiculous hit for AN ADULT AMATEUR LEAGUE!!! In my opinion, ### should be suspended from USA Hockey for that type of hit. (update 6/05: The injured Burninator player finally returned to play this week, nearly a month after the boarding by Northern Lights ###) We got the hit on video (we were taping the game) and showed it to the organizers of the tourney…who agreed….foul play. I’m hoping to put the video up as an example of why adult team sports can suck so bad. Turns out this same player (###….) had already gotten herself into hot water several times during this game with a few two-handed slashes on the Burninators. Her prior history and the irrefutable video tape evidence damned her to expulsion from the tourney. In the video, Northern Lights ### can be seen clearly putting her elbow on Heather’s back as Heather is slowing down going into the boards. As ### pushes down with her elbow, Heather is sent head and neck into the boards at modest speed. It is a miracle that we did not have to take Heather off in a stretcher. (note, 6/05: The NL player was a damn good skater. She could skate circles around any of the Burninators. This hit was either (a) intentional or (b) completely avoidable by the better skater.) A trip to the Hospital and several hours later and Heather is okay (for this bit of good news, The Burninators appear incredibly thankful). The bad news is that the Burninators are “Out in 3″. <<RANT>> In my opinion and from what I saw….women’s hockey in the Denver area is as dirty as it comes. I saw more nasty slashes and cross checks today than in any coed game I have watched in the Bay Area. For simply lifting the stick (a legal move) the Burninators would get a shin (or back of the leg) slash in return. Going after the puck in the corner would get you boarded or cross checked. A breakaway would merit you a slash on your skate (forget the puck). This was ugly-ugly-ugly hockey by some agro chicks (and i use that term loosely). What made matters worse, is that the referees were local and knew many of the players….This resulted in a bias towards looking the other way and issuing “warnings” as opposed to actual penalties. Dear Refs…keep the game in control EARLY in the 1st and we would all be thankful! Being an adult of injury-prone-ability, I would recommend others of my type to avoid the Denver tourneys (until proven otherwise). <</RANT>> <<RANT 6/05>> Those of you reading this understand that my frustration stems from the fact this is ADULT RECREATIONAL HOCKEY. These teams Pay to Play. They have Jobs to go to on Monday. Teams simply shouldn’t tolerate bad behavior from the 1 or 2 “bad apples” on their team…as this gives their entire team a bad rep. Regardless of what team you’re on (Burninators, Northern Lights, etc etc etc) its simply not necessary to play (good) hockey this way. <</RANT 6/05>> (update 6/05. Since I have been informed that Northern Light’s players frequently change numbers, I have chosen to remove all references to the offending player’s number in the above text. For the record, at this tourney (and only at this tourney), she was wearing #17)	Checking in for Game 3 with the grim shirt on.	The zamboni freshening the sheet…..boy they paint ‘em cool here. Almost looks like a 2-ton shopping basket.
	Jena puts her game face on.	Yes…. Liz has red pants!
	The San Jose Burninators prepare to take the ice for Game 3.	Get a load of how short that ref is on the right hand side. He’s like 10 or something!
	Final score: 3-3. Great comeback!	A woozy Heather is helped off the ice (and on to the hospital) after the viscious boarding by Northern Lights Nasty#17.

5/8/05 A Day at the Zoo & A Flight Home

Well, with the trip drawing to a close, it was a late night discussing the nasty hit by NorthernLights#17. We all got to commiserate with a drugged up Heather (after several hours at the hospital…) and recount the events. This morning, several of us ended up going to Waffle House in order to avoid the pancake shaped egg-like objects. What a tasty plate of cheese grits and bacon. Mmmmm. Soopahviv had never had grits….she seemed to enjoy them (score 1 for cheese grits). After waffle house, it was off to the Denver Zoo where I did not take too many pictures. Many funny moments….from the sign-picture-taking-Vivo to the butt-sniffing Lion (followed by a puzzled yawn-growl-face). Oh, and the hoof-ed beasts with the 14″ long tongues were intriguing (as were the smelly giraffes). Sad to see those bears pacing in schizophrenic misery….and the ultra-bored (too small a pen) elephants were disheartening as well. But, the geese were cute, and all the other babies were entertaining. The tropics exhibit…and the bushmasters…pretty cool. Cap the exhausting day off with a stop at Good Times on “Hofax” avenue (darn tasty “frozen custard” spoonbenders….mmmm) and it was off to the airport. In line for the security strip search, good ol’ Andrea got cut off by the biggest *ahem* in tight leather pants. Funny thing was, we still emerged in front of them on the other end…..the world is just full of “the wrong kind of people”, eh? And then…an overbooked flight (United, of course) and a bumpy ride home, a shuttle bus that would never show up as we waited in the rain…and 7.5 hours after we left Good Times, Steph & I finally got home and crashed. Great weekend. Thanks for having me as your “Groupie”, San Jose Burninators!	Beware the evil Mother of Fairy Tales Funny how this picture was taken on Mother’s Day.	Look really close into my eye and I will bite your nose off. Just exactly what are those two dudes looking at anyway?
	I’m a poser, eh?

#2… I’m switching jobs. Yup….for those of you that know me, I will be changing employers after 7.5 years at Lightwave. Bittersweet indeed. I will miss everybody there that I worked with, but am happy to depart after 3 patents, half a dozen successful laser designs (e.g., models 110, 112, 142 as seen on the web site) and too many tools and fixtures to count. Viva la Barracuda!

#3… Lightwave has been acquired by JDSUniphase. The announcement came 21st. As I leave, the company is in the throws of acquisition and “figuring things out” in order to move on to the next step as part of a larger entity. Interesting times, for sure.

After breakfast, proceeded to spend hours and hours in my yard. I find that 3 weeks in springtime without mowing the lawn is enough to lose my dachshund. Beyond mowing, I had hedge trimming, weed whacking and various other yardly duties to perform. My stupid back makes these things take a long time, as all that bending over tends to cramp me up and make me walk funny. Regardless, I managed to get all those paving stones in place and the dirt shoveled (“planting season” is soon) and the wood on the wood pile. This busy boy even had time for a sunburn.

The reason behind all that yardwork really was procrastination. Procrastination from TAXES. Simply put, I am just one of millions of people who hate TAXES. The tax code for this f—ing country is downright stupid. Why are there thousands of possible deductions? What the hell is AMT anyway? Why do I have two different Capital Gains tax rates? Why do married couples with 2 wage-earners get dinged? How come a kid is a tax deduction? WHY IS TAX CODE USED TO ENFORCE THE SOCIAL AGENDA OF POLITICIANS IN WASHINGTON???

That aside, thank the powers for TurboTax. Sure….there may be better…but (1) it beats the pants off of manually doing it in Excel, (2) it is far cheaper than H&R block, and (3) I find that I can do my taxes with a beer to calm me down and still come out with the right answer.

Still not done with my day, it was off to MemChu (Stanford slang) to watch a buddy sing with the Stanford Early Music Singers. Great concert, beautiful music, excellent acoustics.

And then back to Steph’s for an evening of web-work. Steph was out playing a late hockey game (10:45) with ATeam2. Turns out, it was another messy-game-a-la-Logitech-Ice. In the first period, Steph’s 10 person team had a player kicked out for allegedly being “third man in”. I say “allegedly” because I know the person who was kicked out and there is not a fighting bone in her body.

But most importantly….Steph just got back from her game and told me SHE SCORED A GOAL. (Disclaimer from Steph: she keeps saying it’s a garbage goal and it ‘doesn’t count’ and she’s trying to be modest and all that stuff, but I don’t listen to her). Being a “hockey wife” I get all happy when Steph scores! Way to go Stepher!

Implication: Seeing Vinnie in San Jose for a tennis match confirms THAT THE NHL SEASON IS OVER! Vinnie is one of the high-ranking (aka “rich”) players in the NHLPA who should be in Toronto sitting in a locked room with the NHL owners trying to hammer out a deal.
Well, it was good to see Ricci. His hair looks like he just took it out of a helmet…stringy, greasy, in need of a hair cut and possibly a queer-eye intervention. Guess we can’t consider him (or Vinnie) NHL players anymore….they are essentially amateurs now. So, we left them alone.
The Roddick game was a little more entertaining. Against some swede from Monte Carlo, the game was about serving and errors and went to the final game of the third set.

The highlight of the game came somewhere in the second set. Looking over and watching Ricci spit his chew into a empty pepsi-can, I suddenly hear high-pitched cat calls and whistles. I look to the court and see the source of all the commotion. Roddick had taken his shirt off (to change into an identical shirt) and every single woman in the crowd emblazened the image into memory. Thunder-Down-Under gots nothings on dat..

The best moments came in the Miracle like rematch in semi-finals. The Burninators played the Alaska Lynx for the second time in 24 hours. Their previous match-up was a depressing loss for The Burninators (4 nothing) and there was a lot of fear going into the semi-final game. By the end of the second period, the Lynx were still dominating, but Burninator goalie Cara was standing on her head (and other places) and keeping them in the game. Third period was different, as the Lynx had a short bench (2 lines only) and they started to get tired. In the middle of the third period there was a golden opportunity. An open goal with only a defender in site and the Lynx seemed to bury the puck in the net. By some stroke of luck (or deliberate effort) the puck stayed out of the goal, but since it was frozen by a defensive player, there was an automatic penalty shot. This could be the deciding goal in a 0-0 game. The Lynx put forth their MVP (#24 “red pants” as we called her) who attempted to get around Cara. It was not to be, and the entire place started cheering! So, after the third period, the score was still tied at 0-0. Turns out, the Burninator-Lynx game had started a good 20 minutes late, so by this time, the teams in the next game had already shown up to play and had seen the penalty shot.

And so, with the Harpies and BrokenHearts hockey teams watching (and the Harpies and BrokenHearts fans) the game went into the first full overtime. Both teams were dragging at this point (it was the second game for them that day). The Lynx continued to dominate and had several dynamite scoring opportunities, but so did the die-hard Burninators. While banging their hockey sticks on the boards, the Burninators maintained their energy and….well…held out. Cara continued to stand on her head and the game went into its second full overtime.

At this point, there were two entire hockey teams (waiting to play) standing by the glass cheering. Most of them had witnessed the domination of the Lynx and were starting to cheer on the Burninator goalie (support for the underdog). The Lynx were dragging and the Burninators were wasted. Heck, falls seemed to take even longer as even gravity was tired. Not too many scoring chances in that overtime, and with mercy it went down to a five on five shootout.

First two members of both teams buried the puck in the respective goalie. Third member of the Lynx has a beautiful pull to the right, shot across the crease and ding-dong hit the left post!!! A blessing. Excitement and cheers and the 4th member of the Burninator shootout skates down the ice. Fake left, cross right and gently through the five-hole of the Lynx goalie. Barely…oh so barely…does the puck skitter across the goal line, almost being stopped by all of the snow on the ice. It makes it just inside the left post and a scant 2 inches past the goal line. The 4th member of the Lynx buries the puck in Cara’s chest and the 5th member of the Burninators does the same. By this time the crowd is starting to shout Cara’s name (underdogs go!). The 5th and final Lynx skater heads down with the puck. Back and forth (this is “Orange Gloves”, aka “Maskless One”, a 6foot 3 skater with an incredible shot) she goes. She snaps her stick back and wings one….right into Cara’s chest.

For a moment I thought the Burninators were going to completely kill themselves as they exploded off the bunch without control (too tired for that!). What a win! What a game! It became the talk of the tournament and set the schedule back by 2 hours! The game finished around 7:30pm and they had to play in the finals at 8:30am the next day. They didn’t win in finals, but who cares…this ragtag team of true beginners and a few advanced skaters had gone further thany any single one of them could have imagined. They had become a team, and in doing so surpassed individual expectations.

Another interesting sidestory. Mary (aka “Stitches”) had gotten her hand sliced by a skate in the 2nd game. At the time she refused to be taken to the hospital, but later that night as she was watching her tendon move between flaps of skin, she grabbed a taxi and found a hospital to load her up with novacaine and 4 stitches. The next day Stitches found the boards with her knee, which swelled up like a grapefruit. Stitches played through 2 more games (including the long semi-final) like a champ. Visibly in pain, Stitches played the finals game and received the 2nd place trophy. As she was leaving the ice, she dropped the trophy and it broke into 3 pieces. Stitches gets my vote for MBA (Most Bad Ass).

Well, this entry is getting long…..but I had a freaking great time watching the gals play in Vegas. Sure, I didn’t drink (unless you count a single watered down Amaretto Sour at Thunder Down Under as a drink) and didn’t gamble, but I had a blast. Who needs the NHL anyway….those blokes are just a bunch of spoiled brats. Go watch an amateur tournament instead!

From: Red <c>Red Byer. For personal distribution only.

Sent: Thu 3/13/2003 4:10 PM

Subject: Back Surgery Stories/updates
First off, administratively: (1) Sorry for the mass email, but it’s more efficient. (2) Sorry if you get 2, 3 or even 4 copies of this message…i pretty much just spammed my address book.

Anyway, I just had a micro-discectomy, and here’s the story and a status update for you all.

Pre Surgery, Da’ History

For those who don’t know, I went in for lower back surgery last Tuesday the 11th. The operation was a micro-discectomy…..History: I have had on/off severe back pain for about 10 years now. Back then they only took an x-ray and thought I had a fused disc down there somewhere. Well, 2 months ago, it really really went out (sleeping was no longer an option). Finally, in early February, I had an MRI done and it showed a beautiful bulge/prolapse/hernia/rupture between L5 and S1. 15mm bulge to be specific, pinching on the left side spinal cord and basically messing it all up. As a point of reference, a prolapse that size was enough to make my chiropractor take pause and look seriously concerned (and he’s an x-football player who regularly treats NFL players).

Mid February, it was feeling better and I was working out more…and it went out AGAIN…Valerie & Steph got to witness that Valentine’s dinner hands-and-knees-all-of-a-sudden fiasco. In fact they looked worried enough that it became obvious surgery was a necessity.

After quite some waiting and a lot of kneeling at work, I finally had a pre-op and a surgery date scheduled. A second opinion with a more conservative Dr. S in Redwood City confirmed that it was time for surgery. Dr. K at the Stanford Neurosurgery was scheduled to be my surgeon.

OH, and this is most definitely not a “pity me email”. At least 3 of the people getting this have had total knee re-builds, at least 1 of the people has had a kidney transplant, and another had a deviated septum surgery. I think the pain and recovery from my surgery pales in comparison to those just mentioned.

Post Surgery, Quick Summary

So, the quick summary….after a DREADFUL night in the hospital (read more below) I am back at home . . . dosing up on vicadin and valium and steroids. I’m in some pain of course (imagine a sledgehammer hitting your back, or some sucker-kidney-punches) and I walk *really* slowly. I can’t bend or twist yet, but the good news, NO MORE SCIATIC LEG PAIN.

Speaking with the doctor, he said that he was surprised to see that much of the disc bulge seemed be from an older injury (hence the 10 years of back problems). He cleaned it right up, I hope. I’m hoping to get a post-MRI out of the deal if I can…just to see what it looks like now. As for the disc degeneration in L4 & L5…well, just going to have to live with that for the rest of my life. I hope to keep strong enough to be able to lift and toss-around my kids some day.

Since doctors do not give straight answers and love to be ultra conservative, they were saying it would be 2 weeks before I could drive and 4 weeks to return to activity. Yeah, WHATEVER. The driving is limited by the vicadin….(i can always get driven to work)..and the return normal activity varies by individual (2-6 weeks is what I have read).

I feel better today than yesterday, and I am not taking full-dosages of vicadin. I currently hope to be back to work in <10 days.

A Quick Thanks For The Support

THANKS TO EVERYONE FOR THEIR SUPPORT. The cards/balloons/flowers are greatly appreciated. In fact, I left one of the baloons with my roomate, who was having a really bad time and who’s 2 year old son was visiting. The “Get RRRRuufff” dalmation balloon stayed behind for him. Oh, and the “ITs A BOY” balloon courtesy of Manuel M was the source of some confusion for the nursing staff.

Well done!

The Gritty Details Of My Night In The Hospital

AND NOW, the detailed nitty gritty somewhat humorous recap for those who have never been to a hospital, under anesthetic, etc. READ ONLY if you can stand the yummy details….this is for those of you who like the gory, juicy, nasty details…and for me to share the stories for those brave few.

WARNING: Too Much Information [TMI] abounds below.

They let me lie down in a bed and asked lots of questions, poked and prodded for 15 minutes, took vitals. Then came the fun part. I got to watch Stephanie & my mother flinch as they inserted the IV into my left wrist. I swear that they almost fainted. The best part, they loaded me up with some sort of anti-anxiety, relaxant stuff. WHAM….in 5 seconds I felt like I had just had 3 margaritas. My hearing went away and I was flying quite nicely. And then, wheeled to the operating room.

Interesting point….in the pre-op room there were at least 3 different SCRA parents that recognized me. In fact, Dr. Samuels (Coach Emma’s father) was my anastheseologist. Made me glad I was wearing my finest attire and didn’t have any embarrassing tattoos.

The resident that inserted the IV was very kind, and (sorry Steph) cute…so not a bad way to be put under and perhaps be the last thing I would see on the pain-free end of things. There was no countdown, nothing. Just a “We’re going to put this pillow under your head to support your neck better.” Uhh, yeah….I think that’s what they did.

Because the next thing I heard as I woke up…”Breathe deep….take another deep breath. Good. Another deep breath…really deep.” I complied, I don’t know why, but I did…and then my eyes opened…and I felt so very very good. It was only 2 1/2 hours or so after they had put me under. No nausea….a little soreness in my back (promptely relieved with a small hit of morphine).

And the TASTE. Oh my god, it felt like my mouth had had a bunch of nasty melted polyester poured into it. My mouth, my throat…my lips…tasted and smelled HORRIBLE. The nurse heard me complaining, and whipped out some sort of pre-tasting swab (some $50 lemon pledge-pinesol flavored q-tip) and swabbed my lips and let me suck on it for awhile. That was nice….then she was a total goddess and gave me a cup of crushed ice to suck on!!! Wow….anything to get rid of that nasty taste. I kept asking them why they didn’t invent mint flavored anasthesia…..could it be that hard?

And there I sat….bored, but drunk on anasthesia for an hour and a half….then two big nurses came and I got to watch the ceiling tiles of Stanford Hospital fly by as they whizzed me and my 300lb bed around and around and up the elevator.

Then I was in my room…next to a guy who was snoring (and didn’t stop the entire time I was there) really really really loud. They checked vitals (they do that in hospitals…a LOT) and I proceded to convince Steph & my mother to go get some food for themselves (I had to pee really bad, and wanted the privacy) [TMI to follow, don't read if you're squeemish.

Well, evidently, that liter of IV fluid they had pumped me with....it wanted out in a BIG way. I filled that urinal to the brim, and could have kept going, but I didn't feel like asking for more. The nurse who took it away dutifully recorded that I had peed, and how much, 'cause they do that as well as check your vitals.

Oh, by the way, I smelled terrible....my mouth still tasted terrible. Everything like a flowery plastic nasty that exuded from every pore. And the pee? Yuck. For those (like me) who can't stand morning after asparagus/broccoli piss, try the post-anasthesia pee. Holy stinking nasty!!! And it continued like that all night, too!!!

But I digress.....The time is now about 6:30pm.

So, in order to get off of the IV, I had to keep some fluids down, and I was eager to comply (that taste). They brought me some apple juice, water and soup broth. I began drinking the soup broth. Well, about this time, my roommate decided that the morphine was not agreeable, and I was treated to about 5 minutes of projectile vomiting into his bedpan. I must have been hungry, because I stll drank that soup, the apple juice and the water.

I was rewarded by being unhooked from the IV drip, but the IV tube remained in my wrist. Blech.

Then they brought me dinner. It was HUGE. After witnessing my roommate, I was in no hurry to rush back into eating (puking is tough enough, but with a hurt/weak back, it is tough and completely painful). Well, the dinner they brough was salad, fruit, a huge hunk of chicken, some rice and guess-what: BROCOLLI. Why not add insult to injury and throw in some asparagus, as if my pee didn't already smell bad enough! Needless to say, I passed on the brocolli....and nibbled on the rest. Quite a feat, given that my roommates heaving kept on going.

About 15 minutes later, steph & my mom return with their dinner, and I promptly shoo them out, because it's time for my roommate to get an enema. Wonderful. My pee smells like flowery plastic, my roommate is hurling, I'm worried about hurling (that's what everyone says happens after anasthesia & morphine), and my dinner is getting cold quickly because it smells like enema. This hospital stay was turning out to be a wonderful idea.

Another 15 mintues go by, the smell(s) have subsided...my mom, steph and my housemate return and I'm nibbling. I'm starving...want to eat, but given the circumstances, just can't.

At about 7:30....mom & housemate leave....Dr K comes in to let me know that all went well.....and then I attempt to stand. In order to stand, they have to remove these cool little pressurized air-bag leg-massagers that they had (keeps blood clots from forming, improves circulation and feels damn cool as they inflate and deflate).

7:30, a mere 4 hours after surgery, I stand....and go take a nice long plastic smelling pee (i hate urinals, and using a toilet was my reward for standing). My back felt weak, but acceptable, and with steph and the nurse for support, it was not a problem. We took a little walk around the unit (about 15 minutes or so)...and that felt really good.

I was able to walk/shuffle around until 8pm.....when I had to get back into bed (yup, still wearing my wonderful pantyhose in case you'd forgotten) and steph got kicked out for the night.

Contrary to popular belief...they kick visitors out early so that the patients go insane with boredom. They have found that boredom and insanity are the biggest aids to healing quickly and demanding shorter hospital stays. SO, at 8pm, I was faced with 14 hours of excruciating boredom with a little bit of pain. I was in prison/hospital....same difference.

On the good news, The Waterboy was playing...and that helped.

So commenced the night of no sleep. I had a little pain, sure...but having an IV in your wrist prevents it from bending. And in case you hadn't noticed, you usually have to relax your wrists to sleep.....I couldn't do that. Oh, did I mention that having the IV tube also prevented me from rolling over onto my stomach. You would think that after back surgery they would enable you to roll on your stomach so as to relieve pressure on the cuts/stitches and therefore relieve pain. However, given that (from above) "insanity" leads to shorter hospital stays, on my back I remained.

And did I mention that my roomate snored. Snoring is a euphamism in this case for STRANGLING A BEAR! I was hopeless, bored, and of course insane at this point.

Oh, and just in case you've already forgotten, it's time for a quiz....nurses do what?They check your vitals. And when do they do it? When you have finally managed to fall asleep for 15 minutes. Seriously, every 2-3 hours they would wake me up and check my vitals....ARGH.

Oh, and did I mention the drugs. They had me on some heavy duty antibiotics (via the IV drip hookup) and would push steroids into me a couple of times as well. Turns out that steroids can cause insomnia.....Also turns out that nobody told me this!

Oh, and it also turns out that one of the side effects of anasthesia is increased heart rate.

So, there I am trying to get to sleep with (let me list em) (1) a roomate who was either snoring, ralphing or getting an enema done (2) nurses who just wanted to wake me up in order to push me further into insanity (3) an IV tube in my wrist that hurt to flex (4) cuts in my back that I had little choice but to lie on top of (5) steroids & anesthesia that pumped my *resting* heart rate up in the 80's and 90's!!!!!!!!!!

Incidentally...I slept about 2 hours total that night...and spent the rest of the time trying to get to sleep and wondering how to break out of the insanity and boredom asylum.

10:30pm.....my mom called, so I went to the nurses station and took the call. Also managed to sweet talk a nurse into bringing up the Sharks website....great, they lost again....At this point I proceeded to walk around the hallways for another hour.

2:15am.....bored, can't sleep. Got up and walked around the hallways for another 45 minutes. Oh, don't forget, I had my well ventilated outfit and thigh-high pantyhose on, too. And, yeah...I use the term "walking" quite liberally....it took me about 15 minutes to go 200yards....so a couple of laps killed a LOT of time.

5:30am. My roomate wakes up ralphing and dry heaving. Incidentally, snoring and puking and groaning were his main sounds, and it was always one or the other.

5:45am.....who wants an enema? Not me!!! But my roommate got another one. WOW....there is nothing sacred in a hospital.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER SEGWAY: The question I got asked most, throughout the night, after surgery and into the morning........wait for it..............the question was: "Have you passed gas?" I kid you not! The nurses are serious about this. It's a mark of pride......they cheer you on...they wanna hear it.....they almost seem to live for it (second to takin' vitals of course). "Have you passed gas?". I was constantly getting asked that question.

Well, here's why. Turns out that anasthesia totally screws with your GI tract (i.e. it takes it to a complete stop) and so do most of the pain meds, especially vicadin. Also turns out that passing gas (that's "farting" for us non-nurse laymen) is like the sign that the engines are about to turnover again. This is why they recommend a major fiber-diet post surgery... Speaking from experience [i warned you, Too Much Information] it’s tough to jump start those bowels again…..really tough. Even a juice club with fiber boost, 2 apples, 2 bannanas, prunes and raisin bran isn’t enough. They give you stool softeners on top of it!! [you were WARNED about TMI]

So, let’s get back:

7:00am…i had just gotten to sleep at 6:30 am….and the doctor’s assistants came in, pushed and prodded me a little bit, made sure I felt okay, told me I’d be going home in 4 hours (I was clearly insane and bored, and heceforth ready to be released). Then they left.

So, I got up, urinated some polyester smelling fluid and began to walk (breakfast was supposed to be at 8:00am). I walked for a good hour and a half (that’s about 6 laps around the ward, I think)…got really tired…..and passed gas….loudly and proudly!!! A couple of times….Heck, the way I figured it, I was in a hospital, they were encouraging it, they were asking me about it….so I cut loose. How many times in your life have you actually been encouraged to fart by professionals? For me….that number was 0. So I made the most of it, which incidentally was quite little, because that anasthesia really does stop you up.

8:30am, breakfast FINALLY shows up. Remember, I’m post-op…should be eating high fiber, etc. They give me bacon & eggs and a smallish bran muffin and some coffee. No fruit. I’m starving (hadn’t really eaten for well over 36 hours at this point) and wolf down all that.

8:45….I still have that blood IV in my wrist, it’s swollen and i want it out. They figure that have to load me up with one more bag of antibiotics (I’m taking the steroids orally at this point). They try to push the antibiotics thru and start the drip, but I think the IV is coagulated/swollen…..and they stop. 15 minutes later, they check with the doctor….

9:00. My insanity and boredom is evident. They reward me by removing the IV needle stuck in my wrist. The reward comes with a price….a lot of hair. Oh well.

9:15….I get to shower!!!! The nurse gets to open my well ventilated gown and strap some saran wrap with some hair-pulling tape all around…..wonderment. It took some time (about 10 minutes), but I was able to get the little traction-socks and the white thigh-high nylons off. The rinse off removes a lot of that flowery plastic smell from my poors, and suddenly I feel a lot better. I was starting to feel some dignity, too.

That is, until the nurse pulls off skin & hair removing the wonderful plastic wrapping around the bandages. There is no shame here….it’s a hospital……and the bandages, well, remember that I mentioned it was a LOW back surgery. Men (like me) have hair on their butts. And the surgeons…well, they didn’t shave me down and that quickly became evident as I got a backside ‘waxing’ from the waterproof tape. Yippee.

9:45 – 10:45. I stroll the halls in my street clothes, completely insane and bored. I can finally play my Gameboy (the IV in my left wrist had prevented my thumb from moving). At 10:45, just as I was about to go Postal, Steph shows up to break me out of there. The nurse helps dose me up with a few vicadin prior to the car ride….and then I’m off (like a snail in heat) towards the car….towards the pharmacy….towards home.

And home is where I’m at while I’m writing this. Can’t drive, don’t wanna get in a car, but at least i can sleep…..on my stomach!!! I’m feeling better today than yesterday, and hoping for that fast recovery…..dosing up on fiber like a telecommunications company before the bust. Able to take “walks” (liberal usage of the word…”shuffles” is more like it).

And most importantly….no sciatic pain……

So that’s my story….hope you all had an entertaining read…..any questions? hahahahah

End Of [TMI] Section

Once again, Thanks to everyone for their support.

-Red