Thursday AM

Last Edit December 21, 1998

ICK!
I hurt. Especially if I bump into things. Like the sink.
I gave up on underwear - the Dr. didn't like the stain from the drain.
But I really gave up on the IV.
They hooked up Pepcid to it and I went thru the ceiling.
Ugh.
My hands don't like to be hurt.
So, we unplugged me. I had been roaming the halls with one hospital gown draped on the IV tree and my arm threaded IV and all thru another waiting to be unhooked.
I am restless.
I am here until Saturday - until they pop the drain in my side.
I have had two nosebleeds today as well.
Unusual for me.
Took ice to stop.
And I finally took a pain pill - I leaned into the sink while getting fixed up after a sponge bath and went cross-eyed.
Ouch! Dumb move!
A candy lady brought me a Cosmo mag from June - I read every inch - and took most of the day to do it.
Remember I can read at 8500-10000 words per minute.
Didn't choose to.
I am tired of the impeachment rap. Most men, when shown underwear on a willing body, will take up the offer.
It is not our country's problem. Hillary will take care of him.
I keep waiting for her to sue one of these bitches.
If Monica ever gets her bills paid, I am sure she will.
As for the tramp with the nose job - how difficult is it to figure out that if you go into a room with a bed in it with a guy who is drunk on success, power and booze, that he will make a pass of some sort? Duh!
She shouldn't have been paid.
So now we are bombing Iraq.
About time.
On top of all this, my younger son overslept again. He missed school yesterday - didn't want to go in late (day was half over). But two days in a row?
No. No. No.
He called me in a panic.
"Go to school," I order from the hospital.
"Should I call first?" he inquires.
"No. Just go!" I am getting frantic. I want him to graduate.
Visions of the class ring, class photos, and senior dance tickets abound. Seniors are expensive.
I had been calling him since 6AM.
He needs a louder alarm.
He needs mom at home.
My new job will require travel. My son has been warned.
He must be responsible.
It means more money.
It means I can retire sooner.
He gets college and grad school - whenever he figures out a major.
I remind him.
He must finish high school.
He has already picked out the car he wants to own. $$$$$
I suggest law school or med school.
He has expensive taste.
He is committed.
Losers agonize - winners organize.
I am busily organizing him.