The middle of the night began like any other. Jesse arrived beside our bed at approximately 2:30 AM and announced, as usual, that he had to pee. Kip grumbled his standard response which alluded to the fact that the bathroom is ON THE WAY to our bedroom, and helpful facts like: " no self respecting boogeyman would hide in a toilet anyway-they prefer dry places like under your bed or in your closet", blah blah, blah while he accompanied Jesse on business, and we began our nightly game of Musical Beds.
I am starting to think that maybe Jesse doesn't have the major sleep issues we have always believed he has. I am starting to suspect IT IS ALL ABOUT THE MATTRESS. Last year, Kip and I did some major wheeling and dealing with a friend of a friend who is Heir to a Mattress Empire, who made a single phone call and got us an INCREDIBLE DEAL on a mattress that is worth a gazillion dollars. We don't own a house; but we proudly invested in one hell of a mattress. Reminds me we need to make a will. There could be a lot of fighting over that thing.
So as I took Jesse's place in his crappy Ikea bed while he snuggled down in my bed on my warm spot no less, it occurred to me that maybe if we got the kid a better mattress he might stay in his own bed most nights. Or-at least I would sleep more comfortably. And with this thought, I began to drift off to dreamland...
Only to be awakened by Annie; who is usually such a sound sleeper we have to hold a mirror under her nose to make sure she is breathing. Nothing will get your heart going faster than a high pitched whine that BUILDS and BUILDS til it is a BLOOD CURDLING SHRIEK. So I jumped over to her bed in the darkness--where she lay screaming and kicking her feet and whaling her arms. I attempted to pick her up-and if you want to know what this feels like, open a blender one day while it's on PUREE and put your face into it. The conversation goes something like this:
ME; Annie-what's wrong honey?
ANNIE: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ME: Do you not feel well? Are you sick?
ANNIE: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ME: Annie, can you please stop kicking me in the nose and tell me what is wrong?
ANNIE: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ME: Do you want a teddy bear (Waaa/Kick combo) Do you have an earache? (Waaaaa/ Head butt into chin) Do you want a blanket? (Particularly offensive--response is a double kick to clavicle) DO YOU WANT ME TO BEND STEEL WITH MY MIND???
(At this point I am thinking; Emergency Room. Because I would love to explain to a group of doctors at 3:20 am that I had to come in because I DON"T SPEAK WAA.)
ANNIE: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
ME: (Head in hands. Bad flashback of Nights 2001-2003.)Annie.....Please. Let Mommy Help You.
ANNIE: Waaa Waaa Waaaa
ME: Wait---did you mean (Hallelujah music plays here) Waaaaaaaa-ter? Water? Is that it? DO YOU NEED WATER? BECAUSE MY GOD---I CAN DO THAT!!!
ANNIE: In my Hello Kitty Cup with ice to the top.
So I ran to the kitchen and Kip met me there and we worked as a team to locate the Hello Kitty Sippy Cup and fill it with the appropriate amount of ice and bring it to her, at which point she insisted we fetch a flashlight so that she could SEE REALLY SEE that we had not been stingy with the ice and that it was, indeed, FILLED TO THE TOP.
Two sips and she was out like a light.
I went to bed thinking that the next day I would work on solving problems that were a little easier: like how to bring about world peace or what to do about global warming.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
RenoVaTions
I had 1/4 of Jesse & Annie's room painted when I decided that Kip had been right all along, and that renovating the apartment over the course of two days, in addition to working this weekend on a design deadline for MUD, was maybe NOT SUCH A GOOD IDEA.
So I just painted three walls. Well, really 2 and 3/4 because the side of the 3rd wall was super tricky and involved painting around shelving which i could not take down because I could not figure out how to work the freaking drill-- so I just made a line with some painter's tape and just STOPPED. I was ALMOST at the end of the wall-about 7 inches from it-but who cares. It's mod. Plus, I don't think it is so noticible given the fact that I tried to hang the new curtains before the paint had dried and the large swatches of semi gloss I got all over the striped cotton fabric make an interesting pattern and sort of keep your eyes from going to the curio boxes that I attempted to hang- but again, because I could not work the drill- had to install by hammering the screws into the drywall. Theory is the same right? Nail...screw...whatever. Although, I am thinking maybe I should not put anything heavy into them just yet. Worked til 2:30 am last night, was up at 7 and stepping in random piles of cat vomit that I could not see because most of the furniture in the apartment is IN THE KITCHEN.
And to think I could have just left things the way they were and finished Harry Potter.
So I just painted three walls. Well, really 2 and 3/4 because the side of the 3rd wall was super tricky and involved painting around shelving which i could not take down because I could not figure out how to work the freaking drill-- so I just made a line with some painter's tape and just STOPPED. I was ALMOST at the end of the wall-about 7 inches from it-but who cares. It's mod. Plus, I don't think it is so noticible given the fact that I tried to hang the new curtains before the paint had dried and the large swatches of semi gloss I got all over the striped cotton fabric make an interesting pattern and sort of keep your eyes from going to the curio boxes that I attempted to hang- but again, because I could not work the drill- had to install by hammering the screws into the drywall. Theory is the same right? Nail...screw...whatever. Although, I am thinking maybe I should not put anything heavy into them just yet. Worked til 2:30 am last night, was up at 7 and stepping in random piles of cat vomit that I could not see because most of the furniture in the apartment is IN THE KITCHEN.
And to think I could have just left things the way they were and finished Harry Potter.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
PRioRiTieS
So the other night at bedtime, I was tucking Jesse in and our conversation went a bit like this:
ME: Goodnight, I love you.
JESSE: Why do you always say that? Why are you always saying you love me?
ME: Because I do, and i want you to know you are the most important thing to me.
JESSE: Really? (dramatic pause) Because I thought WORK was.
At which point I attempted with both hands to force my heart back into the GAPING CHEST WOUND his words had left.
I told him yesterday that I needed to fly out of town on business today, and that I would be leaving Realllllllly Early but I would be home at bedtime. At 2:30 am he appeared beside our bed and asked if I was leaving yet, before jumping in beside me. At 4:45 he was awake again, watching me get ready in the darkness, and at 5:30 he was clinging to my neck and crying hysterically that he did not want me to leave.
At 6:30 am I was on a plane and sobbing. I was the woman in Seat B2 that sobbed for two hours. Silent sobbing--but the shoulder shuddering, tray table shaking, snot dripping onto your blouse kind of crying nontheless. Which must have made the other passengers on the plane feel VERY CONFIDENT AND HAPPY. And all poor Kip could do was to just keep handing me beverage napkin after beverage napkin.
My two hours of sobbing also completely clogged my left ear and covered my contact lenses with protein deposits, so that when I exited the plane, I was almost completely blind and half deaf. Not to mention VERY PRETTY with my puffy swollen face and snot covered blouse.
So Kip changed our return flight home so that I could be back by 7 pm, which I was. Bearing LOTS OF GIFTS. Because really, nothing says "I feel totally guilty about working instead of staying home and raising my children" like a big bag of overpriced airport toys.
But here's the thing Jesse Bear-should you find this post in cyber space some day far in the future. I have never loved work more than you. But sometimes work has been easier. Sometimes I knew more about what the heck I was doing at work than what i was doing at home. Work has never demanded from me some of the things that being your Mom has asked of me. And here's the thing: I LOVE WORK. One of my greatest hopes for you is that you will see that work can be a joyful thing--that you will find something you love to do and do it with all your heart and soul. That you will remember that WORK IS A GOOD THING. So I hope you will forgive me, and know that I tried my best to juggle it all and to be a good mom. I hope you know that I was ALWAYS CONFLICTED. And that even when I HAD to leave you sometimes, that it verily broke my heart each time.
ME: Goodnight, I love you.
JESSE: Why do you always say that? Why are you always saying you love me?
ME: Because I do, and i want you to know you are the most important thing to me.
JESSE: Really? (dramatic pause) Because I thought WORK was.
At which point I attempted with both hands to force my heart back into the GAPING CHEST WOUND his words had left.
I told him yesterday that I needed to fly out of town on business today, and that I would be leaving Realllllllly Early but I would be home at bedtime. At 2:30 am he appeared beside our bed and asked if I was leaving yet, before jumping in beside me. At 4:45 he was awake again, watching me get ready in the darkness, and at 5:30 he was clinging to my neck and crying hysterically that he did not want me to leave.
At 6:30 am I was on a plane and sobbing. I was the woman in Seat B2 that sobbed for two hours. Silent sobbing--but the shoulder shuddering, tray table shaking, snot dripping onto your blouse kind of crying nontheless. Which must have made the other passengers on the plane feel VERY CONFIDENT AND HAPPY. And all poor Kip could do was to just keep handing me beverage napkin after beverage napkin.
My two hours of sobbing also completely clogged my left ear and covered my contact lenses with protein deposits, so that when I exited the plane, I was almost completely blind and half deaf. Not to mention VERY PRETTY with my puffy swollen face and snot covered blouse.
So Kip changed our return flight home so that I could be back by 7 pm, which I was. Bearing LOTS OF GIFTS. Because really, nothing says "I feel totally guilty about working instead of staying home and raising my children" like a big bag of overpriced airport toys.
But here's the thing Jesse Bear-should you find this post in cyber space some day far in the future. I have never loved work more than you. But sometimes work has been easier. Sometimes I knew more about what the heck I was doing at work than what i was doing at home. Work has never demanded from me some of the things that being your Mom has asked of me. And here's the thing: I LOVE WORK. One of my greatest hopes for you is that you will see that work can be a joyful thing--that you will find something you love to do and do it with all your heart and soul. That you will remember that WORK IS A GOOD THING. So I hope you will forgive me, and know that I tried my best to juggle it all and to be a good mom. I hope you know that I was ALWAYS CONFLICTED. And that even when I HAD to leave you sometimes, that it verily broke my heart each time.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Where Have All the Bloggers Gone?
Well, as evidenced by the fact that there has not been an update since July 10, that whole "Guest Blogger" thing worked out REALLY WELL. Remind me not to ask you people to feed my plants or water my cat next time we go out of town, I mean, Sheesh.
So here's a quick update of NEW EVENTS on Veasey Street.
ANNIE GAVE UP HER CHOOPA. (Choopa: noun, small plastic sucking device inserted by parents into squalling newborn's mouth and often not removed for four or five years. Also known as Binky, Paci, and that thing in her mouth that makes it impossible to understand what she is saying, and will cause her to need braces when she is twelve--thereby ruining her first kiss at thirteen-- when either a rubber band will fly out of her mouth as the deal is being closed, or she will lock front teeth with the boy who also had a CHOOPA for the first four years of his life.)
And all it took was some DISNEY PRINCESS COSTUMES. Behold the Power of Ariel! Bow down before the Influence of Tinkerbelle! Who knew that offering a bribe of a blue satin dress with white elbow gloves could be so LIFE CHANGING. And before one of the three of you loyal readers points out that the "Princess" way of thinking may not be the healthiest image for young girls today, let me just say that we always make it a big point to tell Annie that Princesses are really very much like the CEO's of companies...like MOMMY. And then we just stand back and let her Order Everyone Around while Stomping her Glass Slippered Foot and Talking About How Much She Hates Math.
The Princess Costume Collection truly rocked Annie's world, but it was nothing compared to an impulse purchase I also made before I left Target. And that would be.....A NIGHTGOWN. Because as Annie said: IT IS A DRESS YOU CAN SLEEP IN? REALLY? A DRESS FOR NIGHT? A PINK DRESS FOR IN MY BED? CAN I WEAR IT FOR THE NEXT SEVENTY TWO HOURS? I LOVE IT I LOVE IT DO YOU LOVE IT? HEY MR. UPS GUY-DID YOU NOTICE MY NEW NIGHTGOWN? LET'S CALL NONNEE BECAUSE SHE WILL WANT TO KNOW ALL ABOUT THESE NIGHTGOWN THINGS BECAUSE SHE MAY NOT KNOW THAT SOMEONE INVENTED A DRESS FOR BED!!!
Which later lead to what will now forever be referred to as: The Great Underwear Under The Nightgown Debates of '07.
Initially, we went commando. Because we love to give her the opportunity to discard as many articles of clothing onto the bedroom floor for someone else to pick up as possible. And because, well, being Lazy Mom, I figured if we always took them off each night we would never find ourselves in trouble during those times where we don't bathe for weeks.
But apparently the BEST WAY to show your BRAND NEW NIGHTGOWN to the man who brings hamburgers for dinner, the super of the building, the son of your nanny, and the odd workmen that come through the place daily is to LIFT IT UP OVER YOUR HEAD AND SHAKE YOUR TUSH. This move was popularized by Kate Moss at some point in the 80's, but Annie is just a natural.
After Much Discussion (and feel free to join in the debate right here--in the comments section) it was decided that what was needed was NEW UNDERWEAR. With Ariel on it. And Belle. And Cinderella..................
So here's a quick update of NEW EVENTS on Veasey Street.
ANNIE GAVE UP HER CHOOPA. (Choopa: noun, small plastic sucking device inserted by parents into squalling newborn's mouth and often not removed for four or five years. Also known as Binky, Paci, and that thing in her mouth that makes it impossible to understand what she is saying, and will cause her to need braces when she is twelve--thereby ruining her first kiss at thirteen-- when either a rubber band will fly out of her mouth as the deal is being closed, or she will lock front teeth with the boy who also had a CHOOPA for the first four years of his life.)
And all it took was some DISNEY PRINCESS COSTUMES. Behold the Power of Ariel! Bow down before the Influence of Tinkerbelle! Who knew that offering a bribe of a blue satin dress with white elbow gloves could be so LIFE CHANGING. And before one of the three of you loyal readers points out that the "Princess" way of thinking may not be the healthiest image for young girls today, let me just say that we always make it a big point to tell Annie that Princesses are really very much like the CEO's of companies...like MOMMY. And then we just stand back and let her Order Everyone Around while Stomping her Glass Slippered Foot and Talking About How Much She Hates Math.
The Princess Costume Collection truly rocked Annie's world, but it was nothing compared to an impulse purchase I also made before I left Target. And that would be.....A NIGHTGOWN. Because as Annie said: IT IS A DRESS YOU CAN SLEEP IN? REALLY? A DRESS FOR NIGHT? A PINK DRESS FOR IN MY BED? CAN I WEAR IT FOR THE NEXT SEVENTY TWO HOURS? I LOVE IT I LOVE IT DO YOU LOVE IT? HEY MR. UPS GUY-DID YOU NOTICE MY NEW NIGHTGOWN? LET'S CALL NONNEE BECAUSE SHE WILL WANT TO KNOW ALL ABOUT THESE NIGHTGOWN THINGS BECAUSE SHE MAY NOT KNOW THAT SOMEONE INVENTED A DRESS FOR BED!!!
Which later lead to what will now forever be referred to as: The Great Underwear Under The Nightgown Debates of '07.
Initially, we went commando. Because we love to give her the opportunity to discard as many articles of clothing onto the bedroom floor for someone else to pick up as possible. And because, well, being Lazy Mom, I figured if we always took them off each night we would never find ourselves in trouble during those times where we don't bathe for weeks.
But apparently the BEST WAY to show your BRAND NEW NIGHTGOWN to the man who brings hamburgers for dinner, the super of the building, the son of your nanny, and the odd workmen that come through the place daily is to LIFT IT UP OVER YOUR HEAD AND SHAKE YOUR TUSH. This move was popularized by Kate Moss at some point in the 80's, but Annie is just a natural.
After Much Discussion (and feel free to join in the debate right here--in the comments section) it was decided that what was needed was NEW UNDERWEAR. With Ariel on it. And Belle. And Cinderella..................
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
MERDY'S GUEST BLOG
The actual move is over--but because there is still so much to unpack I have decided to do the smart thing AND RUN AWAY TO KALAMAZOO. In my absence, in order to maintain my loyal readership of 4, I will have some Guest Bloggers. Guest Bloggers will receive my gratitude and oh, maybe a MUG. Email me your entries people. Just try it: it's like literary skinny dipping--fun to do at least one time by monnlight while intoxicated. So here is MERDY'S BLOG:
As a fellow MudChick (MC), I too have a nickname given to me by Lorrie - it's Merdy. Don't know why or how and along with Peedles, she is the only one who calls me that. And I answer. Because as Peedles said, when someone you respect gives you a nickname you don't ask why, you just answer and sign that name to all your emails to her. I no longer own my PYOP studio so does that make me a former MC or a MC alumni...or maybe I'm a MC for life? Someone recently asked me what my career goals were and I had to think about it for a minute. My response? I sold them along with my studio.
I don't really understand the blogging world, but Lorrie tells me it's the wave of the future, that to be in business you have to blog. So here I am blogging...on her blog. I don't know why people want to put all their thoughts, rants, pictures, glimpses into their lives and the lives of their family and friends in cyberspace for all the world to see. But as a reader, it's a great way to keep up with the lives and mental state of my few friends who have, own or write? blogs. Maybe one day I will see the light and have my very own blog to write about blogging on.
I've been meaning to guest blog for a while now since I told Lorrie about my new business venture. Always trying to help out, she said she would put a link to my site on her website. After a careful surfing session of ournameismud.com I determined that she has no links section! Thanks anyway Lorr. Ah, but then she said I could guest blog and plug my business here. So to all her faithful readers (are you up to 3 now?) it is www.hipflops.com - custom flip flops for any occasion!
I meant to write this yesterday but here is how my weekend went: As a New Yorker, I am always jealous of the people who LOVE Central Park, and can't get enough. Jealous of the rollerbladers who glide by effortlessly up a hill or down a hill and can weave in and out of the pedestrians, cyclists and dogs, stop on a dime. No knee pads, elbow pads or wrist guards, no helmets. Or my friends who enjoy sitting in Central Park on a hot summer day, enjoying "all that New York City has to offer." So this weekend I decided that I would try to be one of these people and I met my friend in the park. Brought my chair, the paper, ipod, the works. It was sorta fun. I caught up with my friend, saw some half naked guy, (who should not have been half naked in public or private for that matter) do yoga, and listened patiently to a grown man argue with the ice cream vendor that his cone broke when he opened the package and wanted a new one (just give him a new one already so I could get my Chipwich dammit). I'd rather be by someone's pool with a clean bathroom nearby and liquor cabinet within an arms reach, especially on a hot summer day.
The following day, yesterday, I went to get breakfast with my cousin. I was feeling dizzy and decided to stop at the Bagel store for Gatorade. As she was handing it to me, I passed out, right there on the table. As my cousin was trying to revive me, luckily a nurse was there and helped her get me down on the ground and elevate my legs. I came to on the floor of this Bagel store (yuck!) and saw some concerned folks looking over me, getting ice, calling 911. I also saw some people going about their business ordering their bagels with schmear not paying me any mind! None of the employees tried to help or offer me water...unbelievable. The ambulance came, I went to the ER and was released within a few hours, all chalked up to dehydration. I am now content to sit in my air conditioned apt. making hipflops, letting everyone else take advantage of all New York City has to offer.
So, sorry this blog is late. I was on the floor of a Bagel store, in an ambulance, in the ER. I gotta take a shower...STAT.
Again, it's www.hipflops.com and thanks for the link Lorr! Love, Merdy
As a fellow MudChick (MC), I too have a nickname given to me by Lorrie - it's Merdy. Don't know why or how and along with Peedles, she is the only one who calls me that. And I answer. Because as Peedles said, when someone you respect gives you a nickname you don't ask why, you just answer and sign that name to all your emails to her. I no longer own my PYOP studio so does that make me a former MC or a MC alumni...or maybe I'm a MC for life? Someone recently asked me what my career goals were and I had to think about it for a minute. My response? I sold them along with my studio.
I don't really understand the blogging world, but Lorrie tells me it's the wave of the future, that to be in business you have to blog. So here I am blogging...on her blog. I don't know why people want to put all their thoughts, rants, pictures, glimpses into their lives and the lives of their family and friends in cyberspace for all the world to see. But as a reader, it's a great way to keep up with the lives and mental state of my few friends who have, own or write? blogs. Maybe one day I will see the light and have my very own blog to write about blogging on.
I've been meaning to guest blog for a while now since I told Lorrie about my new business venture. Always trying to help out, she said she would put a link to my site on her website. After a careful surfing session of ournameismud.com I determined that she has no links section! Thanks anyway Lorr. Ah, but then she said I could guest blog and plug my business here. So to all her faithful readers (are you up to 3 now?) it is www.hipflops.com - custom flip flops for any occasion!
I meant to write this yesterday but here is how my weekend went: As a New Yorker, I am always jealous of the people who LOVE Central Park, and can't get enough. Jealous of the rollerbladers who glide by effortlessly up a hill or down a hill and can weave in and out of the pedestrians, cyclists and dogs, stop on a dime. No knee pads, elbow pads or wrist guards, no helmets. Or my friends who enjoy sitting in Central Park on a hot summer day, enjoying "all that New York City has to offer." So this weekend I decided that I would try to be one of these people and I met my friend in the park. Brought my chair, the paper, ipod, the works. It was sorta fun. I caught up with my friend, saw some half naked guy, (who should not have been half naked in public or private for that matter) do yoga, and listened patiently to a grown man argue with the ice cream vendor that his cone broke when he opened the package and wanted a new one (just give him a new one already so I could get my Chipwich dammit). I'd rather be by someone's pool with a clean bathroom nearby and liquor cabinet within an arms reach, especially on a hot summer day.
The following day, yesterday, I went to get breakfast with my cousin. I was feeling dizzy and decided to stop at the Bagel store for Gatorade. As she was handing it to me, I passed out, right there on the table. As my cousin was trying to revive me, luckily a nurse was there and helped her get me down on the ground and elevate my legs. I came to on the floor of this Bagel store (yuck!) and saw some concerned folks looking over me, getting ice, calling 911. I also saw some people going about their business ordering their bagels with schmear not paying me any mind! None of the employees tried to help or offer me water...unbelievable. The ambulance came, I went to the ER and was released within a few hours, all chalked up to dehydration. I am now content to sit in my air conditioned apt. making hipflops, letting everyone else take advantage of all New York City has to offer.
So, sorry this blog is late. I was on the floor of a Bagel store, in an ambulance, in the ER. I gotta take a shower...STAT.
Again, it's www.hipflops.com and thanks for the link Lorr! Love, Merdy
Saturday, July 07, 2007
A Boy From Chelsea... OBVIOUSLY
This is Jesse's latest creation from Build a Bear. Obviously, you just can't have too many stuffed animals dressed in pleather.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Again with the boobs thing.
As my faithful readership can tell (all 3 of you that are now left) I have been BUSY BUSY BUSY and unable to blog. But thank goodness my friends continue to send me PSAs about breast cancer and stuff. I mean, I BEG them to send me porn, but I guess this is as close as they feel comfortable getting. Anyway; once again-let's pause for a moment and think about saving second base:
PLEASE TAKE THE TIME AND DO THIS. Thank you for your time!
From a nurse:
I'll never forget the look in my patients eyes when I had to tell
them they had to go home with the drains, new exercises and no
breast. I remember begging the Doctors to keep these women in
the hospital longer, only to hear that they would, but their hands
were tied by the insurance companies. So there I sat with my patient
giving them the instructions they needed to take care of themselves,
knowing full well they didn't grasp half of what I was saying,
because the glazed, hopeless, frightened look spoke louder than the
quiet 'Thank you' they muttered.
A mastectomy is when a woman's breast is removed in order to remove
cancerous breast cells/tissue. If you know anyone who has had a
mastectomy, you may know that there is a lot of discomfort and pain
afterwards. Insurance companies are trying to make mastectomies an
outpatient procedure. Let's give women the chance to recover
properly in the hospital for 2 days after surgery.
Mastectomy Bill in Congress
There's a bill called the Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act which
will require insurance companies to cover a minimum 48-hour hospital
stay for patients undergoing a mastectomy. It's about eliminating
the 'drive-through mastectomy' where women are forced to go home just
a few hours after surgery, against the wishes of their doctor, still
groggy from anesthesia and sometimes with drainage tubes still attached.
Lifetime Television has put this bill on their Web page with a
petition drive to show your support. Last year over half the House
signed on.
PLEASE!! Sign the petition by clicking on the Web site below. You
need not give more than your name and zip code number.
http://www.lifetimetv.com/breastcancer/petition/signpetition.php
This takes about 2 seconds. PLEASE PASS THIS ON to your friends and
family, and on behalf of all women, THANKS.
PLEASE TAKE THE TIME AND DO THIS. Thank you for your time!
From a nurse:
I'll never forget the look in my patients eyes when I had to tell
them they had to go home with the drains, new exercises and no
breast. I remember begging the Doctors to keep these women in
the hospital longer, only to hear that they would, but their hands
were tied by the insurance companies. So there I sat with my patient
giving them the instructions they needed to take care of themselves,
knowing full well they didn't grasp half of what I was saying,
because the glazed, hopeless, frightened look spoke louder than the
quiet 'Thank you' they muttered.
A mastectomy is when a woman's breast is removed in order to remove
cancerous breast cells/tissue. If you know anyone who has had a
mastectomy, you may know that there is a lot of discomfort and pain
afterwards. Insurance companies are trying to make mastectomies an
outpatient procedure. Let's give women the chance to recover
properly in the hospital for 2 days after surgery.
Mastectomy Bill in Congress
There's a bill called the Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act which
will require insurance companies to cover a minimum 48-hour hospital
stay for patients undergoing a mastectomy. It's about eliminating
the 'drive-through mastectomy' where women are forced to go home just
a few hours after surgery, against the wishes of their doctor, still
groggy from anesthesia and sometimes with drainage tubes still attached.
Lifetime Television has put this bill on their Web page with a
petition drive to show your support. Last year over half the House
signed on.
PLEASE!! Sign the petition by clicking on the Web site below. You
need not give more than your name and zip code number.
http://www.lifetimetv.com/breastcancer/petition/signpetition.php
This takes about 2 seconds. PLEASE PASS THIS ON to your friends and
family, and on behalf of all women, THANKS.
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