I live!
I have been back home since the 1st; but there has been some craziness (which I’ll get to in a chronological manner), I’ve been exhausted, and my parents have just left this morning- all of which have made writing low on the priorities list.
Starting from the beginning…
May 24 – Surgery
My surgery was scheduled for 12:30. I was told to show up by 10:30…so I could then sit around until nearly 1:00. During these two and a half hours, I changed into a hospital gown (thus beginning the Week of No Pants!); read a trashy magazine; was grouchy because I hadn’t had food since 7:00 the night before; had my right leg “autographed” by one of the surgeons; and was offered an epidural for post-op pain relief- which I heartily accepted.
When I was wheeled into the OR, I remember the anesthesiologist starting the IV, telling me to sit up on the side of the table so they could put in the epidural, injecting something lovely into the IV…then fluffy, fluffy clouds.
I woke up in recovery; I don’t know how long after the surgery, or how long I stayed there. My mom said it was 8 hours before she got to see me again after they’d wheeled me away. All I remember is hearing the staff talking about how they’d lost my chart, and thinking, well, this is going great so far. At least the correct leg is hurting.
Boy, howdy, was it hurting. I still had the oxygen mask on, but I was pitifully mewling “eight” to anybody walking past, attempting to get someone’s attention. I was told I couldn’t have any pain meds until my blood pressure came up, and my pulse went down. This brought on thoughts of go up, blood pressure! Goooooo!! Mama needs drugs, now!!
At some point in recovery, my right leg started convulsing (seriously- no other word describes it better). One of the nurses tried to hold it down. I was told this was from the anesthesia wearing off. I wished it had chosen the other leg to torture!
Somewhere in the haze, I was moved to my room, via a painful transfer off the stretcher. They started to transfuse two units of blood into me over the next several hours. I don’t remember much else, except that my nurse the first night was really nice, and the tech became my best friend when he offered me two kinds of sorbet at 11:00 that night- my first “food” in nearly 30 hours.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Sunday, May 21, 2006
There seems to be some cosmic connection between my impending surgery, my immune system, and the suggestions of my coworkers.
Last month, my PA made the comment, “couldn’t you put this off for a little while longer?”
Ta dah! I got strep throat for the first time in 15 years, resulting in the surgery being postponed for another month.
This past Thursday, another coworker comments that I should be eating light, and trying to take off a little weight before the surgery. I won’t even go into how rude that suggestion is in itself.
Ta dah! That very night, I came down with a vile case of food poisoning, and have lost six pounds as a result.
I’m glad I’m not supposed to go back to work anymore before the surgery; I shudder to think what the next “suggestion” might inflict upon me.
Last month, my PA made the comment, “couldn’t you put this off for a little while longer?”
Ta dah! I got strep throat for the first time in 15 years, resulting in the surgery being postponed for another month.
This past Thursday, another coworker comments that I should be eating light, and trying to take off a little weight before the surgery. I won’t even go into how rude that suggestion is in itself.
Ta dah! That very night, I came down with a vile case of food poisoning, and have lost six pounds as a result.
I’m glad I’m not supposed to go back to work anymore before the surgery; I shudder to think what the next “suggestion” might inflict upon me.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
In pursuit of the Wild Bagel
Here in the Cubicle Jungle, we constantly get product reps in the office, hawking the latest cutting-edge technology in all things cut-pile, polished, and coved to the Interiors group. These reps often bring food, usually of the pastry variety.
Sometimes a fellow monkey will alert me to the presence of pastries; more often I hunt alone. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the best days for a hunt. Before the sun looms high over the Jungle, I watch the elevators for reps bearing boxes. The boxes will have curious markings on them like, “La Madeline,” “Corner Bakery,” or “Starbucks.”
Once a rep has been spotted, it is only a matter of patience. Interiors will nibble at a few pieces, and then leave the remainder out on the plain for the other animals. One has to move quickly, for there is a Rhino in the Jungle who has been known to take ice cream left over from birthday celebrations back to his desk- still in the half-gallon container.
As I made my way to the area this morning, I saw another monkey scurrying back to his desk, dropping a light spray of crumbs from the prize clenched in his greedy hand. Food is confirmed. A small huddle surrounds the box. Hands reach in, snag a piece, then skitter away to eat their find at their cubicles. As always, the Ostrich, wearing his bowtie,* turns up his beak at the whole affair. Nothing but crumbs is left after the feeding frenzy is done.
The Circle of Lard continues…
*a.k.a. “Designosaur.” ManThing has a gift for assigning animal characteristics to people. He hit it spot-on with this one. I snorted.
Sometimes a fellow monkey will alert me to the presence of pastries; more often I hunt alone. Tuesdays and Thursdays are the best days for a hunt. Before the sun looms high over the Jungle, I watch the elevators for reps bearing boxes. The boxes will have curious markings on them like, “La Madeline,” “Corner Bakery,” or “Starbucks.”
Once a rep has been spotted, it is only a matter of patience. Interiors will nibble at a few pieces, and then leave the remainder out on the plain for the other animals. One has to move quickly, for there is a Rhino in the Jungle who has been known to take ice cream left over from birthday celebrations back to his desk- still in the half-gallon container.
As I made my way to the area this morning, I saw another monkey scurrying back to his desk, dropping a light spray of crumbs from the prize clenched in his greedy hand. Food is confirmed. A small huddle surrounds the box. Hands reach in, snag a piece, then skitter away to eat their find at their cubicles. As always, the Ostrich, wearing his bowtie,* turns up his beak at the whole affair. Nothing but crumbs is left after the feeding frenzy is done.
The Circle of Lard continues…
*a.k.a. “Designosaur.” ManThing has a gift for assigning animal characteristics to people. He hit it spot-on with this one. I snorted.
The way to his heart.
CAD Monkey: How do you feel about free sushi for dinner...and you can eat it at home, without pants??
ManThing: This isn't from someone who wants to get rid of their fishtank, is it?
CAD Monkey: No, I went out to lunch with Big Boss and [two other coworkers] at [our favoritest sushi place]. We over-ordered, and had a waiter cool enough to "turn his head" and let us take the leftovers. I've got some volcano roll, some russian roll, salmon, snapper, mackerel, and white tuna.
W00t!!
ManThing: Sushi, pantslessness, and WoW! All my favorite things in one night!
ManThing: This isn't from someone who wants to get rid of their fishtank, is it?
CAD Monkey: No, I went out to lunch with Big Boss and [two other coworkers] at [our favoritest sushi place]. We over-ordered, and had a waiter cool enough to "turn his head" and let us take the leftovers. I've got some volcano roll, some russian roll, salmon, snapper, mackerel, and white tuna.
W00t!!
ManThing: Sushi, pantslessness, and WoW! All my favorite things in one night!
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Shameless
Hot damn!
I still refuse to play golf as a means of ass-kissery, but I just found out the Managing Principal likes sushi. Sushi eating is definitely an acceptable form of schmoozing.
Guess who I'm having lunch with today? I ain't ashamed.
I still refuse to play golf as a means of ass-kissery, but I just found out the Managing Principal likes sushi. Sushi eating is definitely an acceptable form of schmoozing.
Guess who I'm having lunch with today? I ain't ashamed.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
A few weeks ago, we all received e-mails that an independent survey firm might be calling some of us, as part of a study the company was doing on employee satisfaction and turnover. I read it, and then promptly forgot about it.
My phone rang today: “Hi, [CAD Monkey], I’m from BlahBlahBlah Survey Company. Would you have time for a fifteen- to twenty-minute survey on employee satisfaction and turnover?”
Awww, crap.
Sigh.
“Sure.”
Dilemma, Part the First: I hate the career Ichose settled for (or at least I do this week, again). Going to lunch with two coworkers and engaging in a conversation that included way too many “and another thing!” statements didn’t help my frame of mind for the day, either.
Dilemma, Part the Second: This is a good company; so, do I give my honest opinion, or the opinion I’d have if I weren’t bitter and jaded against the industry?
Dilemma, Part the Third: Open cubicles make for difficulty in giving an honest opinion over the phone. I’d rather be overheard saying “hemorrhoids?!?” than giving my honest opinion of my office experience. Okay, maybe not. But you get the picture.
I settled upon the wuss-tacular answer set of “pleased with the company, outwardly optimistic of the future, with bitterness suppressed behind iron bars.” Then, I kept repeating “4” for the next fifteen minutes. (It was a 1-to-5 scale)
At least it got me out of working for a little while.
Funny thing is, I heard Hack n' Snort get his phone call a little while later. He asked if he could call the guy back from a conference room "for more privacy." Ha! It's probably so I wouldn't hear him say how great it is that all he has to do to get great assignments is play golf with the Boss Man.
My phone rang today: “Hi, [CAD Monkey], I’m from BlahBlahBlah Survey Company. Would you have time for a fifteen- to twenty-minute survey on employee satisfaction and turnover?”
Awww, crap.
Sigh.
“Sure.”
Dilemma, Part the First: I hate the career I
Dilemma, Part the Second: This is a good company; so, do I give my honest opinion, or the opinion I’d have if I weren’t bitter and jaded against the industry?
Dilemma, Part the Third: Open cubicles make for difficulty in giving an honest opinion over the phone. I’d rather be overheard saying “hemorrhoids?!?” than giving my honest opinion of my office experience. Okay, maybe not. But you get the picture.
I settled upon the wuss-tacular answer set of “pleased with the company, outwardly optimistic of the future, with bitterness suppressed behind iron bars.” Then, I kept repeating “4” for the next fifteen minutes. (It was a 1-to-5 scale)
At least it got me out of working for a little while.
Funny thing is, I heard Hack n' Snort get his phone call a little while later. He asked if he could call the guy back from a conference room "for more privacy." Ha! It's probably so I wouldn't hear him say how great it is that all he has to do to get great assignments is play golf with the Boss Man.
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