Number One, Calm Down
I know I’ve been MIA for a while, but Moonshine is having surgery today so I got nothing but time. I blog in the most exotic locations.
For those who don’t know, in our quest for the great headache cure, she had an MRI on her brain and they found that her septum is severely deviated. The doctor asked her how she breathes through her nose and Moonshine said she doesn’t. I had no idea. I knew she sounded like Darth Vader when she sleeps, but I didn’t know it was because she couldn’t breathe through her nose. That was a really good-mom feeling right there; but really, how would I know? It had literally never come up. Maybe you should go ask your kids if they breathe through their nose or not.
Anyway, she’s ridiculous. She’s nervous, she has a needle phobia and she’s given me five things I’m supposed to remind her of when she’s in recovery. I’ve already forgotten three of the things I was supposed to remember. I should have written them down, they’re kind of throwing a lot of things at me.
And since Moonshine hasn’t been speaking to her dad and asked him to stop texting her, I’m pretty alone here.
So just really quick, her dad sends these really generic texts and she wanted off his mailing list, but how do you unsubscribe from a parent? Well, I wouldn’t allow it, but she sent a text to him asking for him to stop texting her and he said:
Actually, he said, Have a nice life, which was almost worse. I told her she’d better not ever pull that shit with me because she’s stuck with me, but I guess some parents don’t feel like that.
So here I am sitting in the waiting room waiting for Moonshine to get to recovery and wishing I’d brought some of that Vicodin they prescribed her. Oh and I’m also trying to remember the other three things she wanted me to tell her.
1. You’re in the hospital.
2. You have an IV in your arm.
Crap, there were three more. Any ideas?