Catching Up

April 10, 2007

Dan had surgery to repair a hole in his eardrum last Tuesday. I handled the whole thing beautifully (yeah, right) up until Dr. Phil came on the TV. Before I continue, I must ask, why did the surgery center have CBS on when it’s very clear that ABC and NBC have better early morning shows? But anyway, Dr. Phil…so they took Dan back for his surgery at 8:17 (see how I wasn’t compulsive, how well I handled the stress?) and Tim and I went to the waiting room where the aforementioned CBS blared in the background. I mostly read a book, but occasionally glanced up at the morning show (see, I don’t even know what CBS calls their morning show. Actually I think it’s just “The Morning Show.” Could it be any lamer?) And then we were subjected to a hellish hour of Regis and Kelly — a rerun, no less, since Regis is apparently recovering from heart surgery. Godspeed, Regis and all, but reruns of a show that is supposed to be live? Not very satisfying, and it’s not like Regis and Kelly have ever been on my top ten list of favorite celebrities. Let’s just admit it now — Kelly Ripa? Way too thin. Looks way too good in a bikini (I saw her on a magazine cover at the grocery) after having three kids. And how does she even get out of the house that early with three kids? Nannies, I tell you. Lotsa lotsa nannies.

But back to Dr. Phil. The surgeon had said that it would take about an hour and forty five minutes. So, I gave Dr. Phil until 10:03 and then I started to freak out. Quietly. Subtly. Tim’s all like, “Why are you shaking your foot so hard?” and I’m all, “Because obviously they’ve had a terrible problem and Dan’s probably DEAD and they’re trying to work out how to tell me what went horribly wrong.” Again, me — handling it with aplomb. But Dr. Phil keeps talking. And he’s got Tori Spelling’s brother and Rod Stewart’s son and some other hanger-onner who is apparently their friend and they’re all whiny about how hard it is to grow up with Rich and Famous Parents (nothing my kids have to worry about, luckily). And I’m thinking, “My poor dead son,” and picturing the operating room awash in ear blood, though I don’t actually think ears bleed that much.

And then there’s a commercial. A commercial! That meant we were 12 minutes over what the doctor had said! I began to meditate on the tenderness I have for Dan, conveniently forgetting his behavior during Buckeye games. In those 12 minutes, Dan became a paragon of perfection in my mind.

Then, finally, after ANOTHER FIVE MINUTES, the nurse came out and told us that everything had gone well and the doctor would be with us in a few minutes. Turns out that Dan had some extra skin growth around the hole in his eardrum that needed to be “excavated” and that took some extra time. Eeeeww.

So Dan has been supposed to be lying low, not running around and getting out of breath — because the pressure in his sinuses from breathing hard can build pressure in his eardrum which can cause the graft to rip. So I in a moment that can only be attributed to double digit IQ, I let him blow up a balloon on Friday…yeah, that helped.

And then this morning while I was in the shower (sorry to give anyone that unfortunate visual), Rob and Abby came running into the bathroom. Now really, is it just my kids who seem to need all sorts of stuff in those few brief moments while I’m in the shower? But they’re yelling, so I open the door and peer out through the steam. “What? Can’t this wait a few minutes!”

And together they say, “Dan’s dancing naked in the family room!” Now I had given Dan instructions to get dressed so we could go out to a playdate after my shower. Good to know he listens so well.

But instead of addressing the issues here (and yes, they’re legion. Maybe we need a psychologist more than a nanny), I tell Rob and Abby, “Well, for God’s sake tell him not to breathe too hard when he dances!”

**And on the good news front, my mom felt good enough (after two transfusions last week for extremely low hemoglobin) to go to the library today. It’s the first time she’s been out in months.

Advertisements

10 Responses to “Catching Up”

  1. Honestly, if it helps, I think you need a psychologist AND a nanny. Maybe a psyCHIATRIST, since they can prescribe heavy drugs.

  2. Erica said

    OK, lemme get this straight …

    First you post that you have nothing to post about.
    Then you post this?!?!

    -deleted expletive- girlfriend, you are NOT connecting with reality!

  3. Beth Koruna said

    John — Oh the sweet nothings of heavy drugs. Yum.

    Erica — When have I EVER been connected to reality (ok, you haven’t known me long, but the answer is “not often” my friend :D)

  4. kjames said

    fabulous. i’m glad to hear he’s okay, and that you were properly neurotic about it. see? you had stuff to write about!

  5. Beth Koruna said

    “Properly neurotic” Oh this is a phrase that makes me happy and I plan to use it in the future. “No Tim, I’m NOT being crazy or even a bit odd, just PROPERLY NEUROTIC!” Yay you — what a great phrase!!!

  6. I’m with Tim on this one.

  7. Beth Koruna said

    I (as always) stand with Karen!

  8. Andy Whitman said

    I, too, envision my kids’ deaths, probably seven or eight times per day. Even on non-surgical days. Then I get all teary-eyed thinking about how much I already miss them. Is this normal, do you think?

  9. Beth Koruna said

    I think it’s normal, but then again am I the standard for normalcy? (Don’t answer that, John) It helps me to remember my kids in real life situations yelling at each other or me. It kind of snaps me back to reality!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: