Happily Ever After

My parents are celebrating their 59th Wedding Anniversary today.  Mother wrote her memories of their elopement at our family blog, Generation to Generation. 

I thought about what 59 years might mean.  Its longer than I have been around...as I came shortly after their 5th anniversary.  I've lived with a Rocket Engineer long enough to appreciate numbers and factoring.  59 years is 21, 550 days (give or take, considering leap years).  It is 517, 200 hours. 

It is 31, 032, 000 minutes and
1,861,920,000 seconds!  Wow!

The amazing thing about Mother and my Sweet Daddy is this:  They have been truly happy for those 59 years!  Oh, sure...there have been some tough times.  I'm not so silly to think that it has all been a bed of roses.  I've seen some of the rocky road in their pathway.  I've been the bump in that pathway on more than one occasion.

Here's the difference between my parents and a lot of other people I've known and observed. 

They choose to be happy. 

Really happy.
 

Which means that sometimes, someone has to give up what they want for themselves.  Their marraige relationship is more important to each of them than their own personal wants and desires.  Oh, they tease and have some running things that they fuss about.  But if you know them very well at all, you know that they have a deep and abiding love and respect.  You know that nothing comes between them. 

They are a T-E-A-M, team.

We children often laugh about who is Mom's favorite.  I have insisted for some time that they don't have to tell me that I'm the favorite, I know.  Not necessary to voice it.  Which always makes them smile.  One year, Mother said that she got cards from each of her children that referred to being the favorite.  But my oldest brother, Rob, got it right when he said he knew for a fact who Mom's favorite was.  Its Daddy.  My big brother is fairly astute.  Because that is true.  Mother's favorite is Daddy and Daddy's favorite is Mother.

On this day, so many days away from that day in 1952 when they exchanged vows before a preacher they didn't know in a town they rode a bus to get to...on this day, I  celebrate their love, their honor, their respect, their fortitude and their laughter.  They gave me such a wonderful example of what it means to be man and wife.  For them and for their example, I am truly grateful.

Happy Anniversary to
my Dear Mother and my Sweet Daddy. 

Because of you, I believe in Happily Ever After!

My Dear Mother and Sweet Daddy, May 2010

~Mollianne

New Every Morning

The sun peeking over Green Mountain from my driveway this morning

New every morning is your love, great God of light,

and all day long you are working for good in the world.

Stir up in us the desire to serve you,

to live peacefully with our neighbors,

and to devote each day to your Son,

our Savior, Jesus Christ the Lord.

~Amen

 (from An Order for Morning Praise and Prayer, United Methodist Hymnal. 1989)

That beautiful morning prayer resounded in me this morning as I heard birdsong outside my window,

accompanied by my chimes ringing in a lazy breeze. 

This beauty greeted me by the front door.  Originally from the garden of Rocket Man's Granny, they delight us each year with their color and the gentle, clean fragrance carries him back to happy days playing in her yard.  What a blessing!

I saw iris of deep purple in the yard that once bloomed in Granny's yard. 

I breathed in it's gentle fragrance and breathed out a prayer of thankfulness for this fleeting beauty.

 

Hyacinth, so lovely and fragrant



My hyacinth are almost gone, but their fragrance clings to the dying blooms.  I buried my nose to get one last gift from their treasure store. 

Grape Hyacinth, leftovers from the original owners of the house, faithful every year to bloom and bless

As I continued through the yard, I enjoyed the grape hyacinth.  So sturdy and faithful.  I am thankful to enjoy the fruit of someone else's labor.  I do nothing to or for these beauties, but they bloom each year.

Is there anything more lovely that violets peeping out in the spring? 

We don't grow much grass in our yard, but it is full of violets in the spring.  In fact, I usually beg Rocket Man for just one more week when he decides to mow the first time in the spring.  Just one more week with my sweet violets, please!

I spied wisteria blooming on the tree in the back yard.  A plum tree.  Peach blossoms about to burst forth.  Forsythia come and gone. 

The beauty of spring astounds me.  Every year. 

On the ride to work I saw cherry trees in full bloom, blossoms floating over my head like snow coming down.  More wisteria, full and beautiful.  Tulips. Pansies. 

Redbud trees.  Azalea budding.  Dogwood.

Dogwood in bloom at the Church House

New every morning is your love. 

Oh, yes.  New every morning!

The Creator's beauty and imagination there for all to see.

If we but take the time.

Thank you, God, for the beauty of your earth. 

Thank you for the wonder of spring bursting forth.

Thank you for eyes to see your gracious gifts all around me.

~Mollianne

Amazing Grace

Boy Wonder

My grandsons are staying with me this week while enjoying their spring break.  While its not quite a trip to the beach or Disney, they seem to be enjoying the down time and relaxing of their schedule.  Staying up late, sleeping in.  They think they are very big because they are at home {alone} and unsupervised. 

Its working out very well.  Their mom-my daughter- is able to have a week to concentrate on her studies.  They get to feel big.  Rocket Man and I get to spend extra time with them.  While they still want to be with us.  Which I doubt will last forever. 

Yesterday, as I was almost done getting ready for work, I had quite a deep conversation with The Boy Wonder, who had only been awake for about 5 minutes.

I was looking at my fragrances (all 3 of them), trying to decide which to wear.  I chose, looked at him and said, "I think I'll smell like Amazing Grace today!"  (Amazing Grace is a delightful fragrance by Philosophy) 

The conversation that followed:

Boy Wonder:  Grandmother, I don't think you smell like Jesus.

Me:  Really?  Do tell!

Boy Wonder:  Well, Jesus was really a busy guy.  He was always healing the sick, feeding people, raising the dead, teaching and he walked from place to place.  He would show up at a stranger's house and just ask to eat and stay there.  He probably didn't have time to take a bath and I don't think he smelled very good.

Me:  Hmmm.   You are probably right.  But what, exactly, does that have to do with Amazing Grace?

Boy Wonder:  Grandmother, if Jesus isn't Amazing Grace, then what is He?

What, indeed?

...out of the mouth of a drowsy boy. 

Thank you, God, for the razor sharp insight of this child.  Keep him safe and tender and in Your care.

~Mollianne

Somewhere in Time

Ever have those moments when you feel that perhaps time has looped back around and you are brushing up against your past?

I'm having one. 

The Boys Fantastic are staying with us this week, as it is their spring break, and we have made a huge leap forward into those teenage years.  Because they stayed home {alone} while I went to work today. 

I was a bit uneasy, because we don't have a landline.  But we worked out a system where they would email me from my laptop every hour on the hour.  I *might* have warned them that I could tell from my work computer what was up on my laptop at home because I have a special program.  Since I do have gotomypc.com at work, and they have seen that I can access my work desktop at home, this was an easy sell.  I felt the need for such a dire warning because I'm still traumatized by some antics of their mother at the same age. Of which we will not speak.

They checked in with me every hour on the hour and a few times in-between.  They felt so big as we went over the house rules.   I felt somewhat horrified that I was leaving them alone but perhaps a little more horrified to think that they really are old enough to be left alone. 
I should say that I overslept {big hooray, because I haven't slept much since I had my steroid treatment} today, and I didn't leave until after 11 this morning.  They were home for 6 hours.  When I arrived home {with pizza in tow...as a good Grandmother would} they greeted me at the door, all smiles.  "We didn't even have a fight!" 

We must be living in the latter days. 

They asked to stay home again tomorrow.   Not without a phone.  So at 9 p.m., I joined the People of WalMart in my flipfloped, ponytailed, no-makeup, workout attired,  kids-trailing-behind-me persona to purchase a Go Phone.  Its been quite awhile since I've been to WalMart that late.  I used to go that late and often later.  That was back before I had adult supervision.  My adult supervision doesn't get out much past dark.  And in such matters, he tends to keep me on a short leash.

This felt so familiar and we had such fun.  The Boys Fantastic skipped off to look at the toys and video games and I made a leisurely run through Wallly World.  After I had made all of my selections, save the food, I gathered them up and we went to do the grocery portion of the shopping together. 

I'm not sure if I have copped to my height before.  I'm shy of being 5 feet tall.  Not by much, but I never quite made that whole 60 inches in stature.  Many, many things on shelves in Wal Mart and the world in general are out of my reach.

I'm farily adept at getting what I need, even if it is out of my reach.  I stretch.  I prop my foot on something for added height.  I grab whatever is handy and make reaching tools with which to knock the item off the shelf {and occasionally directly onto my head}.  I've been known to climb {but lets not tell Rocket Man, okay?  It makes him crazy when I climb, although I'm quite good at it}.  As a last ditch effort, I've been known to wait patiently until someone taller comes along and ask for help.

As I was reaching for some lime sherbet on the top shelf of the ice cream freezer, an amazing thing happened.  Boy Wonder walked up behind me, reached up over my head and got the sherbet as he said, "Dude!  Let me get that for you." 

I was stunned.  That I have a grandson {and the baby at that} tall enough to reach up over me.  That he actually called me "Dude!"  That he helped without being asked.  My instinct was to throw up an eyebrow and give him the evil eye at the "Dude!" at which he quickly said, "Ummm...I mean...Grandmother." {dimple flashing, of course.  I'm such a sucker for the dimple}

I turned my head and smiled.  I thanked him for the help.  My heart was flooded with snippets of memories of my children at the same age.  Of easy banter and turning my head to hide my smile.  Of late night trips to the store just because we could go.  Of nights piled up on the couch watching movies.  Of the first time I left them home alone all day long.

And time somehow slowed for a split second.  I found myself in a moment with my grown up children, only they were kids again.  We were wrapped in love and laughter.  Before our lives were turned upside down.  Before our hearts were broken and scarred.  When things were just easier.  At least, it seems that way now.

I am so grateful for those moments when time loops around and I feel like I am in a dear and familiar place, even if just for a second.  I embrace those moments and those memories.  And I cherish them.

I'm sure that someday, I'll be reaching for something and hear that precious little-boy-growing-up voice saying, "Dude!  Let me get that for you!"  And I will smile.

~Mollianne

Sometimes

Sometimes, joy just overflows. 

When things are good

When the sun is shining

When I wake up rested

When an unexpected surprise greets me around the corner

When music fills my heart and bubbles over into dance

Sometimes, joy is like a still water.

When quiet contentment sits sweetly in my soul

When I feel safe and connected

When a cup of coffee and conversation hits the spot

When I know that I've done my best and it was good enough

When the dirt and dust of the day are washed away and I feel clean and new

Sometimes, joy is like a rainbow.

When I need a promise of better days

When I don't feel joy, but I know it is there, because I believe in it

When my head knows that  the pain my heart feels is

because I have loved a thing or moment so dear

When I'm at the end of what I can do

When I trust in God and know that '...joy comes in the morning'

Living in joy today. 

Not because all is well. 

Not because I feel jazzed and joyful. 

But because my joy is rooted in something other than the flimsy circumstances of my day to day life. 

I have assurance, hope, peace and yes...I have joy. 

Oh, yes!  My friends,  I have joy! 

Thanks be to God!

~Mollianne

My Big Girl Merit Badge

I did a bit of a happy dance late this afternoon as I scooted out of The Risky Business Center for Steroid Infusion.  I didn't let the door hit me in the butt on the way out, either.

You see, this afternoon I finished my current round of treatment. 

Over the past five days, I dutifully received my steroid infusions and the war in my body is raging.  In an effort to reign in my well-meaning, albeit wayward autoimmue system, we have called down the thunder.  The steroids are supposed to suppress my feisty autoimmune
and maybe those little antigens will stop munching on the neurons of my brain. 
If this works, I should become much less 'off' and 'interesting' to the medical community.

I'm all about that. 

I haven't slept much in the past 5 night.  The first few nights were relatively calm.  Tonight has been somewhat fitful.  Armageddon is ramping up inside of me. 

It's not very attractive. 

A year and a half ago, my precious niece, Teri Lynne, http://www.terilynneu.com/, designed  a Big Girl Merit Badge for me. {Teri Lynne designed my blog, too. She is amazing and I really appreciate her love and our relationship} I just adore my Big Girl Merit Badge.  {I was a lousy Brownie and didn't earn any badges that I can recall.  That makes this one even more speical} I love it so much that I had it put on a custom made Tervis Tumbler!

It comes in quite handy on occasion. 
I pull it out when the big girl panties just don't cut it. 
I believe I'll be wearing that badge for the next few days. 
Not that I really did anything.  
All I did was offer up my veins.
 But it makes me feel better. 

Like I've been a big girl and brave. 

And I pray that I've done it with just a smidgeon of humor and grace.



Thanks, Teri Lynne. I needed that!



 ~Mollianne

The Plan

Responsible Adult (a.k.a. The Amazing Rocket Man) checking the equipment

Day 4 at the Risky Business Center was the best so far. 

After the bumbling and mishap of yesterday, I devised a plan and went with it.

My objective for the day, besides getting my dose of The Poison The Juice,

was to get it as quickly as possible and be on time for Church. 

Rocket Man and I discussed the pump programming problem and being that he is a Rocket Scientist and all, he came up with a solution to the problem.  Because that is the way he rolls.  He is nothing if not a problem solver.  He is NOT always the best people person, so I handled that part.

Here is how it all worked out.

Before I tell you anything else, I'd just like to get this part of the day clear.  For the record, I did not

accost the woman on the elevator carrying 8 boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts.  I didn't even ask her for one.  I'm on the Mayo Clinic Healthy Weight Eating Plan and Krispy Kreme donuts are NOT part of the plan.  I didn't even ask her if I could open a box and smell them. 

I wished her a happy morning and then cried like a baby when she got off the 'vator.

I walked into the Center on the dot of eight, while Rocket Man went to get our breakfast at Mickey D's up the street.  I had oatmeal with fruit.  Not a Krispy Kreme, but it IS on the plan.  And lets just say the score for Moral Victory at this point  is Molli-1, Temptation to physcially harm lady carrying donuts and ditch the infusion while I eat all  8 dozen in the ladies' room-0!

When Betty Lou came to the desk a few minutes later, I cheerily wished her a good morning.  I was dressed for church, wering my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes, big hair (even used hairspray) and gobs of gemstones.  Betty Lou commented on how pretty I looked (gaining instant forgiveness for blowing my vein yesterday) and I smiled and told her that I really hoped to be done in time to go to

my Church for Worship this morning. 

She declared that they would have to see to it that I was done in time.  Ohhhh...I love it when a plan works.  I told her I'd like to get my drip in 60 minutes, please.  Mmmmmm....she wasn't sure about that.  But I kept smiling and told her I'd had a 60 minute drip before and did just fine.  She looked at my orders, which allowed a 60 to 120 minute time frame and said she didn't see why I couldn't do that.

She started my IV while Vera went to the pharmacy to get the bag.  God love her, she didn't blow a vein today, although she did manage to relieve me of some of my B+, making a mess on the floor and receiving a souvineer stain on her shoes.  But when Vera came in with the bag...I was ready to go. 

Enter the Rocket Man.  He looked at me and raised the eyebrow, questioning if I'd done my people-person part.  I nodded slightly and he began.  "I don't wan't to tell you your business..." he started.  That is Massey-speak for "I'm going to tell you your business and furthermore, I'm going to tell you what you ought to do."  But he said it so nicely and they were all about getting me to Church on time.  He told Vera his billiant plan about programming the pump and she thought a minute and said that was an amazing idea. 

 And then, she did what we asked. 

Another moral victory.

We had a Fluid Mechanics lesson when an air bubble caused the pump to start.  Well, make that I got a lesson.  But Betty Lou fixed the problem in a heartbeat and we were once again cooking with gas.

One hour and twenty minutes and we were outta there.  Early for Church.

The only downside was The Poison The Juice rush.  I felt like my head was going to blow off. 

But, I wanted to go to Church and be on time and I was.  It was worth the rush. 

At my age, all of life comes with a bit of a compromise.

I have hit the euphoric phase of the treatment and I'm kinda enjoying it.  We have laughed till my sides hurt.  I'm not sure if I'm being funny...but I'm cracking me up.  Rocket Man has been amused. 

Doesn't get much better than that.

My lesson learned for today:  Go with a plan. Divide and conqour.  Keep your goal in mind.  Have a Responsible Adult that you absolutely adore when you are on The Poison The Juice. 

Last treatment tomorrow!

Then, I crash...I hope.

~Mollianne



Hit the Wall

My treatment hit the wall today.  Actually, I hit the wall today.  Hit it hard.

It took nearly 45 minutes to get The Poison The Juice flowing today, even though I was the first patient in. Not a good start.

Betty Lou is (name changed to protect...something) learning to start IVs. Great!  Vera (You guessed it.  Not really Vera) was supervising her.  And they decided to use my right hand today, which was not as easy to get to, since the bed had my right side against the wall.  After re-arranging the room, fumbling with all the giz that goes with starting an IV, stating how nervous she was, discussing my beautiful veins, and tripping over part of the machinery (with the needle in her hand aimed right at me...yikes!), Betty Lou stuck that needle right into my vein.  She wiggled it in and wiggled it right out the other side.  When she flushed the line, I grew a lovely bump on my hand.  Uh-oh!

Oh, well.  In an operation this size, there has to be a casualty or two.  Center vein on my right hand is blown!

Betty Lou was reluctant to try again, so Vera moved up to the inside of my arm and bingo!  Hook me up and start cranking that pump, ladies!  That was the second problem.  We read and agreed to my name, date of birth and the dose of medicine.  What I didn't realize is that the nurse needs to read how much fluid is in the bag and program the pump with the correct amount and time to administer. 

Ooops.  I was supposed to get the drip over 90 minutes, my preferred time period.  Vera set the pump to administer an amount of liquid much smaller than what I was receiving over 90 minutes.  Which meant in 90 minutes, the bag still had lots and lots of fluid left in it.  There went the morning.  She reprogrammed it.  She reprogrammed it again. finally got every last drop of The Poison The Juice.

One of the side effects of steroids is being irritable. Ever heard of 'roid rage?

I had to draw heavily on my good upringing to maintain a smile and cheery attitude.   (I could hear my Dear Mother's voice in my head saying, "Mollianne, you can be as mad as you want, but you will stay in this room and act like you are not.  And be sweet!")  I must have done an okay job, had a good poker face or something.  Because Betty Lou and Vera said over and over what a sweet patient I was and how much they appreciated my patience.  Seems that all their patients are not sweet or patient.  (Hmmm....I can't imagine that!)

The rest of the day was great.  We escaped the Center.  We went to the Rocket Office to do weekend Rocket Work.  I have my own special chair in my husband's office and believe that I may be their official mascot.  Any day that I get to spend my every waking moment with the Rocket Man of my dreams is a good day. 

But to be honest, I'm feeling The Poison The Juice and its effects and its not my fave.  But I'm hanging onto just enough rationality to cling to  the fact that the blood work shows this is helping.  We are kicking some major antigen butt here.  That's the point.  And it seems to be working.

So, I'm going back for more in the morning.  I'm praying that I get a good first stick and that the pump can be properly programmed for a 60 minute drip so we can make it to church for Worship.  With God's grace, I believe I can jump that wall I hit today and get to the other side. 

~Mollianne

Two Down...Three to Go

Today's trip to the Risky Business Center was simply unremarkable.  No equipment malfunctions.  No fluid mechanics lessons.  The IV went in with minimal discomfort.  No annoying alarms. No Broomhilda.  Just 1000 mg of The Poison  The Juice. Drip...Drip...Drip.

My Annie with the Million Watt Smile was the designated grown-up Responsible Adult today.  She came and got me in her black convertible and we went to the Market Place at the Church House. I bought some goodies to take to the staff at the Risky Business Center.  A little bribery is a good thing.

We enjoyed wandering through the booths and managed to stimulate the economy just a bit with our few purchases.  We went to lunch at a new Mexican Restaurant and enjoyed  our meal.  We rode with the top down on a beautiful day!  It was great {Rocket Man is going to have to get me a convertible!  We're probably going to have to replace the dead vehicle parked at the curb.  Might as well get something with a convertible top.  Its worth a try!}

Rocket Man arrived when the drip was about half done.  He and Annie entertained me until I was done.  Just as we were about to make a clean getaway, Rocket Man realized his parking ticket wasn't validated.  The receptionist was gone for the day.  But in typical Rocket Man fashion, he got his validation and we were off.

We went to the Rocket Office so Rocket Man could finish his Rocket Work for the day.  I acutally dozed a bit {an amazing thing with the amount of The Poison The Juice that I have cursing through my veins}.  We came home and have been like slugs ever since.

All in all...not a bad day.  No tears.  No tantrums.  No 'roid rage.  Didn't even go on a steroid shopping spree.  I don't feel so pretty good and wonder if I'll ever sleep for more than 45 minutes at a time again...but I have seen bits and pieces of some of my favorite movies on TV. 

Did all that, and nobody got hurt.  Not a bad day.  Not a bad day at all!

~Mollianne

Disclaimer Required

{Disclaimer:  This post is being written shortly after a visit to the Risky Business Center (also known as the Wound and Diabetes Care Clinic, a place where they also do infusions) where I received the first of five IVInfusions of  1000 mg Solu-Medrol  (hereafter referred to as The Poison The Juice).  I *might* be feeling just a little bit sassy, stoked, jittery, crazed, irrational, hungry, whiney, frustrated, exuberant, funny, etc. etc. etc.  Who knows what could happen.  Just sayin'!}   

Rocket Man and I entered the Risky Business Center exactly 2 minutes before my appointment time at 9:00 am this morning.  I should tell you that I asked for a later appointment when we scheduled this circus, only to be told, "Mrs. Rocket Man...you can't just decide when you come for treatment.  You have to let us make those decisions."  {Really?}

We were ushered back to a treatment room, after I was weighed (blech) and had my blood pressure checked.  I said for the 3rd time that  yea, verily, I was born on 5-20-1957 {now EVERYONE who can add and subtract knows how old I am} and that my name is indeed Mollianne Buster Massey {and how many ways can  you pronounce that?}  The very nice tech left me and said that a nurse would be with me 'right away'.  Mind you, I HAD to be there at 9:00.  Sharp! 

After the usual jokes and banter, Rocket Man pulled out the Kindle and continued his quest to read the entire Qur'an {don't ask me why...I simply record what I know to be true...I read Kierkegaard... who am I to question anyone else's choice of reading matter?}.  I started flipping through a Bath and Kitchen Remodeling magazine {hey...a girl can dream, can't she?}.  At 9:26, Rocket Man looked up over his glasses at me with a Trademark Rocket Man look {usually not a good sign} and said, "At precisely 9:30, would you mind if I went to the nurses desk and ask them when we can start this train?"  I {wisely} said he should feel free.

At 9:30 on the dot, Nurse Nancy came down to tell us she was sorry for the delay, blamed it on 'the doctors' and said she'd be with us shortly.  Shortly turned out to be 26 minutes later.  Not that anyone was timing the process or anything. 

After answering yet again to my name and birthdate and signing my discharge papers {yep, before the treatment began}, we all agreed that I was there to get 1 gram of Solu-Medrol.  Let's get this game of Molli Sticks {not nearly as much fun as Poohsticks} going.  Nurse Nancy got me in one try { have lovely veins, although I'm told I have large valves which sometimes causes a problem}.  Hooray for Nurse Nancy!

So the drip started.  1 hour and 10 minutes past my 9:00 a.m. SHARP arrival time.  Rocket Man was not amused.  Nor was he amused at the whole runaround about how long we were going to take to drip The Poison  The Juice into my system.  {I won that argument}

30 minutes into the treatment, the blood pressure cuff did its job.  Blood pressure was 94/55.   At 47 minutes, the infusion pump stopped and started sounding this gosh-awful, annoying alarm beep.  I guess that is so the nurse will hear it and come a) fix what the matter is and hopefully b) fix it.  In retrospect, I think it beeps  so I will push the call button to let her know that something is wrong. 

Broomhilda answered the call.  After explaining something about detergent wash to my extremely intelligent, highly overprotective, no-nonsense Rocket Man-who really is a Rocket Scientist- {speaking to him like he was an idiot, mind you} and something else about the mechanics of the equipment, and fumbling around for about 10 to 15 minutes {but, why are we worried about time at this point in the morning...lunch hour...almost afternoon?}  she got it running again.  Then, she amended her comments about detergent wash, because that was for a different medication, not the one I'm taking.  Guess she didn't know EVERYTHING, now did she?  Shooting him a disdainful glance, she made a quick exit.  He looked up over his glasses again {I knew this was going to be good} and told me that he'd bet he knew more about Fluid Mechanics than Broomhilda did. 

The blood pressure cuff slipped down past my elbow and I just left it there.  Until it started inflating and I tried to get it back up where it belonged.  I started laughing and he jumped up to try to get it on.  I was nearly hysterical at this point and in walked Broomhilda.  She glared at my amazing Rocket Man and asked me if he was bothering me.  Are you kidding me?  I told her that the cuff wasn't working right.  She said it wasn't on properly {ya think?} and got it on to her satisfaction.  Glaring at us, because Rocket Man was laughing by this point, she marched out, neveer to be seen again.

The cuff started inflating and the machine went crazy.  We got an alarm and an error reading.  After an ear-splitting few seconds, the cuff deflated.  We were rolling in laughter at this point.  We had 2 more error indicents and the machine righted itself, just as Rocket Man was about to call for help.

The infusion pump malfunctioned 2 more times.  I got the very last drop of The Poison The Juice.  Wouldn't want to miss any of that yummy good stuff.  Nurse Nancy told me that I could reschedule my 9:00 am (sharp!) appointment tomorrow for 1: 15 pm, which suits us much better.  The 90 minute infusion itself lasted over 2 hours.  The waiting and fumbling lasted over an hour. 

I was discharged, wearing my hospital bracelet, to the care and keeping of the Rocket Man and we beat cheeks ...er....feet out of there.  3+ hours at the Risky Business Center is more than enough for us in one day. 

If  you see me without Rocket Man or some other Responsible Adult in the next few days, you might want to try to corner me and call the ICE number on my magic pink cell phone.  I'm not supposed to be left on my own. This is the Rocket Man's Rule.  Not mine.  Not the doctor's orders.  Rocket Man's alone.   On accout-a I'm on The Poison The Juice. 

Who knows what I might do!

~Mollianne