When ever one of the kids come down with some new-to-us illness -- like epilepsy, epiglottitis, asthma, apraxia, intolerance to sugar, croup -- I'll hit up Dr Google to decide whether it warrants a trip to the doctor, find any home remedies, and look for some hint that my child, for once, is NOT in the 3rd percentile. That is to say, "97 percent of children will do this" and my 3rd-ers will be the oddballs and warrant a doc visit.
Anywho. for anyone planning to have a thyroidectomy any time soon and hitting up Dr Google for some experiential data, here's my unsolicited advice to you.
1. Don't do it on the day a super winter storm hits. While the drive to the hospital at 4 a.m. in the midst of a 12-inch snow was exciting and distracting, it wasn't exactly safe and foolproof, either. And, it meant sending Jay home as soon as I woke up from surgery. After all, it's not fair to reward your mom for coming up to lend a hand by snowing her in with 4 kids for two days by herself.
2. Enjoy the rest while you can. I slept, basically, 24 hours straight, less an hour to sit up and eat some supper at 9 p.m.
3. Stay on top of your pain medicine. If you don't, you'll end up on the computer blogging at 3 a.m. while you wait for the latest pill to kick in.
4. Don't look in the mirror. It looks worse than it feels, but I think I look like a CSI victim:
And now, I need your advice. Once this heals a bit more, I'm sure a turtleneck will cover the slash. And, I'm even confidant the surgeon's work will leave a tiny scar by the time it's too warm for a turtleneck. But, right now it hurts to wear a turtleneck; the seam hits at just the wrong spot. If I had an inkling of fashion sense, or half the craving for accessories that Katie has, I would have a stash of beautiful scarves in my closet and would actually know how to tie a snazzy little loopy-thing and cover it just right. But I'm me, more partial to faded t-shirt, flannel button-ups* and wore out jeans. So, help me. Send me a picture or link or youtube video on how to cover this thing up for the next week or so. I don't want to scare any little kids, besides my own 4 gawkers.
*And speaking of flannel shirts, we had a garage sale last summer, and I clearly remember holding my favorite red-and-black check "lumberjack" flannel long-sleeve button-down shirt, my ode-to-the-grunge shirt. It is not Jay's favorite, to say the least. He makes fun of it, calling me Paul and looking for my big blue ox every time I wear it. I don't care; I love it. Still, based on my shirt rule of, if you haven't worn it in 3 years and you will never make it into a cutesy t-shirt quilt, it's probably time to sell, I might have sold it in the garage sale. I hope I didn't, because the exact same shirt was in 3 trendy college-bopper stores this holiday season. Damn. My clothes are so old, they're cool again.
Maybe I do have an inkling of fashion after all. Old fashion.