I'm sorry, what did you say?

Loafing around is pretty much what I've been doing. I'm DYING to go somewhere exciting (and a wee bit warmer) and take some photos. That's not going to happen so you are stuck of photos of Cole and the Dogs. These photos are not artistic in any sense. It's about the best I can do from the family room couch using the incredibly dreaded flash. Yes, we DO have all three dogs still. Crazy, you say? YUP. The right home hasn't presented it self yet but it will. In the meantime, everyone is getting along but we watch them like hawks and take as many precautions as we can.

I'm sorry, what did you say? (READ this, it's funny, I swear!)

Last Thursday I had my first Sacroiliac Joint RFA (radio frequency ablation), I think it's also called a SI Joint Rhizotomy. You know, that thing I told you about where they go in about 6 inches into a skinny joint in the area that attaches the pelvis to the spine and they play some hard core LONG HAIR Metal music or something that just kills the nerves 'cause they can't stand it. Not really, but something like that. Let me tell you
how it went.

(This will show you that I've lost all amounts of modesty and I'm totally letting the 'net know)

As you may recall, I'm laying on the table on my belly with pillows under my tummy so my lower back and bum stick up in the air a bit. Not that I need to make my bum look any more exaggerated (think JLo at New Years eve minus the horrific ape-like real fur and sparkly spandex body suit that no mother of twins, this one included, should EVER be caught dead in). My face is in a pillow so of COURSE my speech is a bit muffled. I'm just sayin'. Dr. Doctor strolls in the OR in his shiny Gucci loafers (remember I can really only see from the knee down at this point unless I crane my neck. The one that has difficulty craning due to the titanium plate and screws installed last year.) As Dr. Doctor is preparing to insert the 4 hollow needles that will carry the other 80's rock
and roll bearing needles to the nerves, I turn my head to the side and say,

"WOULD IT HELP, IF I MOVED TO FLORIDA?"

Meaning, would the warmth of the sunshine state give me a little more fun back in my back.

Dr. Doctor just stares at me for a moment with very wide eyes and a hint of a smile on his usually unsmiling face and then says, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" So I repeat, "would it help if I moved to Florida?" Recognition BLOOMS over his face and he visibly relaxes and says, "YES, yes it would!" then he utters something a bit scary. "Do you want to know what I THOUGHT you said?" Of course, I say yes, "OF course?" This is the part where if I was more faint of heart, delicate of sensibilities and probably had more class and wasn't on pain meds that sometimes make me reveal thoughts best kept to oneself; I wouldn't share the following comment from Dr. Doctor with you. Dr. Doctor says, "WOULD IT HELP IF I FART A LITTLE?"

Sound it out my friends, it almost has the same number of syllables. ALMOST. I then get the giggles because no amount of ANYTHING could make me say such a comment. EVER. Well, there was that one time when Matt's band played a place and everyone was having such a good time that they locked the doors at two a.m. and the band kept playing and the round of shots was free...maybe then I would have said it but I doubt it. ANYWAY...

Now the ICE is broken. I decide to share a story with Dr. Doctor that I don't normally share (I think this is where the medicine sometimes comes into play). I tell the Dr. to ignore my foul language for just a moment but I NEED to share a story with him. I tell him that ever since I was little, my father has ALWAYS said I talk like a SH*T salesman with a mouth full of samples. Yes. I. Went. There. Thank GOODNESS, he loved it and we all got a good laugh from everything. The mood was actually so light that after he got all the RFA needles in place he said, "COOK her!" I think that means burn the nerves...I hope. Because he did 4 nerves, I've been out of commission a tad more than usual, you know 'cause the nerves are all like, "what the HECK?" and decide to throw some extra pain around. He warned me that would happen for about 8 days.  Today, I get to go and do it all over again but this time on the left side. So please excuse my absence. Perhaps it will make your heart grow fonder?

As I laze around, Matt has been working his buttocks off on projects. No, the kitchen isn't done. Sorry. BUT this TV cabinet almost is. It still needs paint inside. Matt built it ENTIRELY from REUSED materials, except for the new handles and 1 foot of trim around that center cubby. He used most of the wood from what was in THIS built in that we still haven't decided on. So our house looks like a construction zone but I'll never complain. BTW, our family room had been painted that green color at one time...well under the chair rail that is no longer there. ;-)