The Lost Post Republished

Not verbatim, mind you. But I will at least try to remember most of what I wrote before those Evil Blog-eating Internet Trolls ate it.

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Last Monday I took Abby and Sam the the Ear/Nose/Throat doctor for their year checkup following the tonsilectomy/adenoidectomy/PE tube placement surgery. Both of them had a tube that was out of the drum, but was caught in the canal in (gag) ear wax. He managed to extract both tubes with some teensy tiny tweezers. As all four kids crowded around the doctor to get a glimpse of the tubes the room was filled with "IIIIIEEEEEEWWWW!! Gross!" They wanted to keep them and of course, being the cool mom I am, I agreed. They wanted to take them for show and tell. Cool by me. Of course, the morning I was standing at the bathroom counter with Q-tips saturated with alcohol trying to clean the year's worth of ear wax from those nearly microscopic blue tubes I thought "Cool mom or not, this is disGUSTing!" Bleh.

Sam was checked first. The drums looked good, the tonsil scars were healed, all was well. He put him in the booth for a hearing test and one ear tested off just a little. The doctor said it was probably from the fact that the tube was newly out and the ear needed to adjust. He didn't schedule another visit, but said to self-test him periodically and if we noticed his hearing interfering with schoolwork to bring him back. I had commented before the hearing test that I thought we were dealing with some "selective hearing" but turns out it probably isn't selective after all. But Dr. Allen still felt like it wasn't anything to be too worried about. He had hearing loss pre-surgery and the doctor felt like PE tubes would correct it. Sam's surgery was mainly done for the tonsils. He had adult-sized, nasty infected tonsils in a teeny little 5 year old body. He snored louder than his father and did the whole sleep apnea thing. The ENT just automatically puts tubes in with a tonsilectomy/adenoidectomy. He's a healthier kid now for sure. No more snoring!

Abby's ears looked good but she did have a lot of wax, tonsil scars looked good and he then put her in the testing booth. The nurse did the test, sent Ab back in to me and when the doc looked over the results he came into the exam room and without a smile on his face said, "We need to see her again in three months." Okay, that look on his face was not good. Before surgery last year she had a 30 decibel hearing loss in both ears. Signifigant yes, but she was certainly still functional. He said her drums were very badly scarred from repeated severe infections her whole life, but felt like the placement of tubes would correct any loss. But he did say that if, after surgery, the hearing loss still existed it was more than likely permanent and irrepairable. Well, it looks like that is where we are. Her hearing has never really gotten better post-surgery, but I have kind of held to the theory of that selective hearing thing. It's called Denial, people. He said there is still a signifigant loss and he wants to keep a close eye on her. Why, I'm not sure. If the loss is irrepairable, I'm not sure what he thinks he can do. I guess monitor. I dunno. And as much of a worrier as I am, I'm really not freaking out about this. I have a sense of peace for some reason. She is a brilliant little girl, never has trouble in school, reads a year and a half ahead of grade level, functions perfectly well at school and at home - we just have to tell her things more than once sometimes - and I think she's going to be just fine.

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Last Wednesday night at the Turtle's Nite Owl party, I won $103.
Last Thursday night at the Turtle's Nite Owl party, I lost $30. That sucked.

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I'm sure there was more that I wrote in the lost post, but for the life of me I can't remember it. Oh well. I guess if it was earth-shattering I'd remember it, eh?

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Last night was Ladies' Night at the Big Fancy Casino. I didn't get to go on the whole run, hitting the Turtle first. Paul was whining about "spending time" with me. Blah blah blah. Seems funny that while my sister was here he was all mushy, gushy about loving me and missing me over the weekend, but as soon as she left he kicked back in that recliner and flipped on SpikeTV and that was the last I heard outta him. Well, he did comment that I didn't fix dinner. He ate a bologna sandwich. Ha! But he did give me $20 before I left for the Buffalo, so I almost felt bad about making him eat bologna. Almost, but not enough to do much about it.

I entered the casino with $20 of his money and $7 of my own. I put the $20 in a Red Ball machine and after losing down to around $3, I managed to cash out with $145. I actually won $155, but played it down $10. At that point I still hadn't even used my free money. Mom wanted to play her "Jack Daniels Machine" so I sat there with her, watching. I was sitting at a machine called Double Money. I asked her if she'd played it before, she said no and I said, "Well, let's just see what it does." Well, by golly, true to its name - it doubled my money and then gave me $5 more! I cashed that card out with $25. Then after the last drawing at 11, I found another open Red Ball, stuck in the $7 I had brought and ended up cashing out with $29. Honestly, I think I could've won much more, but Mom and Sis wanted to leave so I just cashed out with what I had. So all told I came home with $199, paid Paul back the $20 he gave me and now I have $179 in my wallet right now. I love gambling. But I do not have a problem. :)

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When Mom, Sis and I left the casino last night, we all stopped out front to talk before heading to the different parking lots. We were discussing the moving out of those two goofballs, and the impending visit of Cousin Stacey and while we were standing there talking, Mom spit. Just nonchalantly turned her head and spit. Well, not wanting to let that go, I spit, too. Then Heather, with just a slight grin on her face, spit as well. Then the three of us all got so tickled we nearly peed our pants. I'm surprised we weren't all dehydrated by the time we got home because from that moment on, the spitting was utterly hilarity. Why? I have no clue. We are rednecks. We are all tired from the moving and the unsettledness we are living in. It's spring and the weather is fantabulous and we all felt like spitting. I will never forget my Nanna telling me when I was little that "Ladies don't whistle or spit," and as much as I wanted to be a lady, I did not want to give up whistling or spitting. It's just too much fun, people. I have never been accused of being a lady, either.

This is where the diva and the redneck in me collide. I can spend an hour flat ironing my hair, perfecting the makeup and making sure my panties match my bra, but 20 minutes later you'll also catch my gorgeously straight hair flying in the wind behind me as I fly down the dirt road on my four-wheeler, spitting and cussing and if I feel like it, whistling as well. Okay, so I don't actually whistle while I ride the four-wheeler because well...that's just not possible. And I don't spit while it's moving either because well, that's just gross. Yep, I'm the perfect balance of priss and trash.

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All weekend I wore flip flops. Last night I wore flip flops. My gosh I love flip flops. Whoever invented those little flat, rubber, strappy pieces of shoe-y goodness is a SAINT in my book. Sorry, Pope - you didn't get your three miracles, buddy, but if you had invented the flip-flop, I would've nominated you for sure.

It was kind of chilly last night when it was casino time, but rather than mess with the sock and shoe drama, I just left on the flip flops and threw on a jacket. Paul gave me a funny look and said, "Uhhh, you do realize that you are wearing capris, flip flops and a jacket, right?" I gave him a blank look, grabbed my purse and said, "Yeah?" He shrugged and said, "K. Just wanted to make sure you knew you looked like a dork." I said, "Hey, I paid good money for this tattoo on my foot. It has been hidden from view all winter long and by golly it is screaming for exposure! I am not about to cover it again!" Again, he shrugged.