Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Zombified

I am having major, MAJOR sleep problems. It pretty much started from day 1 when I broke my leg. But it's starting to get reallllllly old. I know it's my fault, but I can't help it!! Ok, I can help it, but I don't want to help it!! I can't fall asleep until after 3am on any given day. I can't wake myself up before noon on any given day. Or, if I do wake up somewhat early, I end up falling back to sleep, mid-morning. And then, there's today....I woke up at 7am. Passed back out around 8:30-9am. Woke up at almost 1pm. Fell asleep AGAIN at 2, and woke up at 2:30pm. I am going to be SO MESSED UP tonight. I'm getting tired of hearing the birds start to chirp in the morning, before I go to sleep. My brain is mush, but I just can't fall asleep, even if I am sleepy.

And you know what this means? Not only does the Mister have to deal with a cranky, hirsute paraplegic that can't bathe herself, but NOW he has to deal with a sleepy, mush-brained, insomniatic, hirsute, unclean paraplegic that keeps him up all hours of the night with constant internet-surfing.

Somebody nominate that man for sainthood.

By the way, I'm totally jealous of the cats in this video.



I think if Rufus cuddled with me like that, I'd totally be able to sleep.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

I'm changing my name to Eileen.

Because I'm unfortunately still lopsided.

It's time for another Leg Catastrophe update. After being in a half-cast thingy since the surgery (three weeks ago), it was time for an upgrade. Thursday I went in to get my stitches out & get my walking boot on. I was SO EXCITED!!!! The stitches were seriously starting to drive me nuts. Every time I moved my cast, they would poke at me and pull at my skin. Plus, they were starting to itch. And I've been so ready to get my walking boot on. Not only because I'm so tired of sleeping with a cast on, but because I really want to lighten Josh's work load. I want to start being able to take my dog out, and cook & clean. Basically, I'm tired of being a succubus on the chest of society.

Well, my wish for relief was taken away. For one thing, everyone who said that it would be a piece of cake getting my stitches out was a big, fat liar. I'd like to think I have a pretty good threshold for pain. I may squeal a bit when I stub my toe, or give myself a paper cut. But in reality, I like to be the tough girl. Bikini waxes, piercing, tattoos, BRING IT!! But these stupid stitches.....it was like getting a wax job over a fresh tattoo. Unfortunately, my skin had grown over in some places. I could feel the thread being pulled from once side of the incision to the other. The nurse kept telling me I could take a break if I needed to, but I'm more of a "hurry up and get this crap over with" kind of girl. I consoled myself by thinking of ways I could torture the man with the tweezers.

Finally the stitches were out. Next came the fun part. (can you feel my eyes rolling as I say that?) I got the walking boot put on!! A huge, 50lb metal and plastic monstrosity with enough velcro straps to make you feel like you're in some kind of mental institute where you need to be strapped down to your bed at all times. In order to put my foot in the boot, it had to be bent to a 90˚ angle.

I like to consider myself a polite person. I always say please and thank you. I open doors for people. I send out thank you cards. I have a mouth like a sailor, but I try my hardest to never curse in public.

But when this guy grabbed my foot & bent it up, I thought I was about to invent some colorful new breed of cursing. I couldn't even contain what came out of my mouth. All I know is that the nurse laughed & said he thought I was a female drill sergeant for a second. The bending of my ankle was...unpleasant.

Finally got my foot into the boot, when the bad news was broken to me. Even though this is a walking boot, I am not allowed to put all my weight on my foot. I still have to use my crutches at all times. I still have to take a shower sitting down (and it has to be a quick shower - I have sterile strips covering my incision, and they can't get too wet). I can't take the dog out, I can't stand up to cook or clean. I do need to move around during the day to try and get more and more weight on my ankle. But basically, I am still stuck laying around for another 3 weeks, until the boot comes off and I can start PT.

Have you seen The Shining? Because I'm about to get all Jack Nicholson up in this place.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Auf Wiedersehen mein Bruder

For some reason, whenever I say goodbye to someone, I always have The Sound of Music flashbacks. But I never understood how the littlest (and most annoying) Von Trapp could be singing at a party, and then all of a sudden, fall asleep on the steps leading up to the bedrooms. She seriously couldn't have waited thirty more seconds to go to bed?? I'd say she has a slight case of narcolepsy to deal with. That, or the senior Von Trapp holds the worlds most boring parties, which wouldn't surprise me at all. I mean, his girlfriend IS a former nun. How exciting can that relationship be?

Mr. VT: Honey, what would you like to do for dinner?
Maria: Jesus
Mr. VT: Okaaaayyy....well, do you want to go watch a movie?
Maria: Mother Mary
Mr. VT: Um. What about this weekend? We can go on a hike, bike ride, drive to the beach...
Maria: Jesus
Mr. VT: I think I'm just gonna go to bed now.

See? Boring.

But in any case, my little bro left me last Friday. Josh and I had three weeks of his help, and believe me, it was much appreciated. He took care of the pets, cleaned house, took care of me. We repayed him by taking him on all these little day trips over the weekends. Heidelberg, Luxembourg, France, Trier, Lichtenberg, etc. etc. I hope he had a good time. I do think that my favorite part was reminiscing with him. We shared a ton of stories from our childhood. Be jealous, people, because Chris and I seriously had the best childhood. I almost don't want to have children, for fear that they won't get to do as many awesome things that Chris and I got to do while growing up.

But, I'll share my super-awesome childhood stories later. Right now, I want to talk about something I realized these past three weeks with Chris. We are just so similar. Not only our thoughts and beliefs, but also our quirks and...ahem..."weaknesses." (If you want to call them "weaknesses". I prefer "unique strengths.")

Nothing could highlight this more than the night the three of us played Trivial Pursuit together. Josh is reading a question, and I answer what I think the back of the card will say - which was correct. But as soon as Josh says I got the correct answer, Chris and I both say at the exact same time, "Actually, that's not right, the correct answer is blah blah blah." Josh rolls his eyes, start laughing, and says something along the lines of "Jeez, you Bolton kids..." See, Chris and I are smart. But, unfortunately, we're obnoxiously smart. (THANKS, DAD!!!) Both our middle names should be "Actually...." We like to correct people. Well, I really try to hold my tongue a lot of times, because, let's face it, you can't fix stupid. But Chris, on the other hand, will fight to the death if it means him getting a correct answer. We both love science, and love to read, and we're also Masters of Google. If we don't know an answer right off the bat, we will immediately search the interwebs to find out...and then act like we knew the answer all along. Even if we're wrong about something, I assure you, we can argue until you can't possibly see how we were wrong in the first place.

And now I bet you're wondering how two obnoxious know-it-alls like us actually have friends. So, I may be slightly self-deprecating, but really, our know-it-allness is really just a small part of us. It's just highlighted when we're playing Trivial Pursuit with a non-Bolton. I hate to say it (not really), but if you're playing a game with me and my brother, YOU'RE GOIN' DOWN!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The Sun's a Ball of Buttah

Not that I would know, because it rained off and on all day while in Trier.

But the Bolton children do not let misfortunes get in the way of fun. We're hard-wired like that. We have to be, seeing as how our lives have always been comedies of error. But in a good way. We've gotten really good at rolling with the punches. And they aren't even punches, more like paper cuts in between the toes of life. Why toes? Because it's weird. Trust me, my family is weird. And I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Unfortunately, my husband is not so used to bumps in the road. His family didn't do a whole lot of traveling growing up, so he hasn't experienced all of the quirks that come with the territory. Plus, he likes to have more control over situations, and I tend to let things just roll off my back. I figure, the little issues in life have to work themselves out, right? EVERYTHING ALWAYS WORKS OUT, so there is no point in getting worked up over hiccups. Be it explosive diarrhea in a Colorado outhouse, running out of cash in the middle of England, explosive diarrhea on an Irish honeymoon, to avoiding the Deliverance-style hillbillies in the middle of Arkansas - it ALWAYS WORKS OUT. Oh, and it's always a good idea to carry Immodium with you, wherever you go.

So, Chris, Josh and I went to Trier for the weekend. It is Germany's oldest town, founded somewhere around 16BCE. I had found a tour company that did walks thru the city, highlighting the Roman ruins, castles, and Marxist landmarks. (Trier is the birthplace of Karl Marx). With all the planning I did, (finding parking, things to do, tour group, etc.) I neglected to check the weather. Oops.

Believe me, that is just one 'oops' among many in my life. I'm Courtney, and I'm a Chronic Oopser.

Anyway, we get to Trier, and find parking that is not even remotely close to the lot I found online, (the one that was conveniently located near all of the sites). Oh, and the parking lot we found had a two-hour maximum. And WHY did we park in this crappier lot?? I have no idea. I'm the girl stuck laying down in the back seat of the car, trying to get the blood that's been pooling in my gimp leg back up to my heart where it should be. But Josh is irritated with the Trier traffic, so there is no use putting up a fight.

Was that passive-aggressive?? That sounded passive-aggressive....sorry babe, I LOVE YOU!!

:)

Anyway, we finally get to the "entrance" of old town Trier. Porta Nigra.


Impressive, eh?? Unfortunately, here's where things start to get a little...uncomfortable. It's been overcast this whole time, but now the wind starts picking up. Not just "it's about to rain" wind, but "your ass is about to be frozen to your wheelchair" wind. I don't know how quick the temperature dropped, but all I kept picturing was the part of the Little House on the Prairie books where Laura talks about the poor cows being frozen to the ground, mid-graze. Except this cow was in a wheelchair, and starving. And then, it starts to rain. It's not cats & dogs kind of rain, but keep in mind, I'm in a cast. If my cast gets wet, I have to go to the emergency room to get a new one. And that is NOT something any of us want to put up with.

So, since Chris and I are both hungry (we're Bolton children, after all), we all decide to go ahead and eat lunch while we wait out the weather. All the restaurants around here have outdoor seating areas, with big umbrellas over the tables & chairs. It would have been nice to go inside somewhere, to get away from ole Hans Frost, but per usual, there were steps everywhere. At least it gave us an excuse to buy some drinks to "warm up". I was feeling pretty good after that lunch. Unfortunately, beer makes me have to pee like a racehorse, and getting to a handicapped WC is not the easiest thing in the world. BUT, as always, things always work out, and another Bolton crisis was averted.

After lunch (which, for me, consisted of a fried mashed potato burger, complete with french fries...just call me Spuds) we decided to just do a VERY quick walk around a couple of the blocks. It still looked like we were going to get rained on, and at this point we were a little worried about our parking spot. The 2 hour max had come and gone.


Thankfully we got back to the lot when we did, because Not-so-lovely Rita was patrolling, and handing out tickets left and right.

We weren't quite done with Trier yet, though. I wanted to see some Roman ruins before we left, so we headed over to the amphitheater, which was a few blocks away. The rain was still holding off, and because the amphitheater was basically a big hole in the ground, the wind couldn't reach us, and it wasn't so cold.

It was actually really awesome. But I am a nerd with a BA in anthropology & geography, so this stuff excites me.


The guys were able to go down below, and look at all the gladiator holding tanks, or whatever you want to call them. Me, being Peg Leg Sue, got to stay above ground and keep the peasants from revolting.

Here I am on my trusty Chariot of Death, with my slave Gladiolus helping me charge down the dirty, Froggy Gaul that awaited.


You're just going to have to take my word for it in regards to the Gaul, but rest assured, I was victorious.

Good Lord, I'm a nerd.

Oh, and by the way, not only is Immodium an essential when you travel, but so is a good jacket, and a big plastic garbage back to wrap up your cast when caught in the rain.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Greed is good.

Or at least filling.

So my baby brother turned the big 2-3 on May 12th. Hard to believe. It seems like just yesterday we're hanging out in our hippie school bus, without a care in the world, traveling across the US and Canada. Mom making baguette and cream cheese sandwiches on the folding table. Dad rockin' a mullet, and lamenting that he's not on a motorcycle at the moment, in the middle of whatever desert we happened to be in the middle of. Both us kids reading or playing, counting down the minutes til we got to stop at the next photo-op - four corners, some random waterfall, "world's biggest rocking chair", etc. etc (there was no need to take bathroom breaks, as the school bus rocked it's own "flush" toilet).


Those were the days. And yes, that photo was taken from inside the sweet-ass bus. I swear, if I had the means, I'd buy that sucker and do ALL my traveling with the hippie-mobile.

BUUUUT, as usual, I digress. We're talking about Chris' 23rd birthday in Germany. And to celebrate, there is no better place than Big Emma's.

Now, Big Emma's is a German restaurant, but I can't really decipher how authentic it is. I mean, the food is delicious, and it's all German food, but the restaurant is right outside the base, and totally caters to Americans.

Look at the size of these plates:

Tell me those aren't the biggest plates of food you've ever seen. Ok, that's a lie. You know how I know that's a lie? Those are the "1/2 size" plates. The salad is the "small" salad. That's right, we didn't even get the adult sized portions, apparently. Oh, and the beer? Those are 1L mugs, my friends. We COULD have gotten the 3L beers, but that probably would have involved some drunken shenanigans at some point that night and ended with all three of us in wheelchairs, not just yours truly.

But here is what I can't figure out. Are those portions huge, because the Germans that run the place are catering to American waistlines? Or do the Germans really like their food to come in trough-sized portions? Let's face it, when you think of Germans, you think Augustus Gloop, and roly-poly grandmas. Ok, that's what I think of, but my views on reality aren't THAT distorted by my weirdness, right??

Right?!

Well, in any case, beer should come in nothing smaller than 1L portions. I may have only gotten 1/3 of the way through my "small" salad, but I DEFINITELY was able to finish my beer. With no regrets, my fellow German Brothers in Fat.

Monday, May 9, 2011

They See Me Rollin'

After 3 weeks of being incapacitated, I FINALLY got out of the house for something other than a trip to the hospital. Josh rented a wheelchair for me, and the three of us went to Luxembourg for the day.

Luxembourg is actually a pretty interesting country. I highly suggest you look up the history of the country - yes, I'm a supernerd, but I like to know about places I visit.

It's so awesome to live in Germany and be so close to a bunch of other countries. Being from Texas, it's actually a pretty big treat. Hell, "the sun has ris', the sun has set, and here we is in Texas yet." It only took us an hour and a half to get to Luxembourg, through rolling valleys and farm lands. Finding where we were trying to GET to in Luxembourg City took at least another 45 minutes. We MAY have gone the wrong way down a couple of one-way streets, and we MAY have pissed off a couple of locals, but we finally found a parking garage in the city center. Actually, finding parking garages seems to be the easiest part of driving in Europe - very well marked. GPS use in Europe is still something we're trying to figure out. Streets are so narrow, and not at perfect 90 degree angles, so when the GPS unit tells us to "turn right" it could be one of three streets on our right. Very confusing.

Our goal of the day was to get to the Museum of Natural History & Art. Unfortunately, the whole city center is marked by steep cobblestone hills. NOT exactly the best thing when you're in a wheelchair. At some point, I think my kidneys almost vibrated out of my body. Thank the Powers that Be that I had Chris AND Josh there to help. They both had to take turns pushing my handicapped butt around.



A couple of interesting things about Luxembourg:
1. Most people speak 3 languages - Luxembourgish, French, and German. We found most spoke French, though, and it seemed like all the print items (billboards, newspapers, etc) were in French.
2. There were handy-dandy signs posted all around with arrows pointing to different sights/attractions throughout the city. Quite helpful.
3. The city is basically an old fortress, surrounded by walls & bridges. I would have been a much happier person if I could have actually WALKED to different areas of the city to the lookouts. We missed a lot of good photo ops.
4. Sidewalks can get increasingly narrow, and you will have to be rolled into the bus lane on occasion.



We finally made it to the museum, and I gotta tell you, this place was AWESOME! It was 4 stories below ground, and 5 stories above ground. The underground levels did not have concrete walls, but actual rock walls, from where they cut into the stone. It was markedly chilly down there, as well - basically like being in a cave (although the humidity was definitely being controlled). Another neat thing about the museum, is that all of the artifacts were actually from Luxembourg - the stone age, iron age, Roman artifacts, etc. were all actually found in the country.

Unfortunately, time started to get away from the three of us. We wanted to go out to eat in a local cafe, and try and make it to the American cemetery where General Patton is buried, but we'll just have to save that for next time. I love our dog so much, but she definitely makes it hard to spend a full day anywhere.

Oh, and one other fun tidbit of information about Luxembourg...just because the elevator to the Parking Garage was working when you first arrived, does NOT mean it will be working when you depart. Good luck figuring that one out when you're hungry, your insides have been vibrated into goo, and there are swarms of Frogs on bicycles playing chicken with your Wheelchair Aide.

BUT, it was probably really good that we left when we did. My leg has been hurting so bad since we got home. When I woke up this morning, I was probably a 7 out of 10 on the pain scale. I don't even want to know what it looks like under all the bandages.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Surgery

This past Tuesday was D-Day for surgery. I was really really really not happy about it. I'm an intelligent person, but when it comes to overreactions, I'm kind of a moron. My biggest fear was that they would give me anesthesia, and I would be paralyzed, but would still be able to feel everything. That, and throwing up. And, oh yeah, dying on the operating table. But honestly, dying was definitely #3 on the list - behind the anesthesia not working, and puking after I woke up. See? Moron.

We had to be at the hospital at 6am on Tuesday, but they actually didn't start anything til 8:30am or so. These were probably the scariest 2.5 hours of my life. Thankfully they gave me a sedative before they wheeled me away from Josh and into the OR. I remember the last thing the anesthesiologist said was, "Think happy thoughts, so you dream happy things." So, I went to sleep thinking about Ireland, and my honeymoon. And what is the only dream I actually remember?? Facebook. I couldn't tell you what I dreamt about facebook, but I know I had a dream about it. Maybe that means it's time to take a break from it....

Anyway, I guess I was in recovery for 2 hours-ish?? I don't really know. I know I couldn't keep my eyes open, but I couldn't sleep. My throat hurt (from the tubes). I asked for antinausea meds, even though I wasn't really nauseous (just as a precaution). Finally they wheeled me into my actually hospital room - which I shared with two other girls in their 20s. At this point I guess it was around 2pm?? I was really happy when Josh came in the room. He sat with me until about 8pm, but I don't remember some of it. Mostly I just kept my eyes closed, but I didn't really sleep.

Now, compared with surgery, the night in the hospital was by far the worst thing. I would so much rather go thru surgery again than sleep one more night in a hospital. Between the snores of the other two girls, my insomnia (didn't go to sleep til 3:30am), my machines malfunctioning (I swear, beeps and buzzers went off about 7 times throughout the night) and the nurses coming in to check vitals - I got absolutely zero rest. Plus, the IVs kept making me have to pee. Luckily (or unluckily, as the case may be), they put a potty chair next to my bed so I wouldn't have to go down the hall. It was easier on me, but a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

The doctors wanted me to stay another night, but there was no way in hell I was letting that happen. The pain wasn't bad, and I had already been using crutches for two weeks before, so they really had no reason to keep me. THANK GOD!!

I am just so ready to be done with all of this. My sleep cycle is all messed up (I think mostly due to the pain meds). I have no appetite (which I guess is a blessing in disguise). I'm really just bored and cranky, which I know has to be irritating to Josh and Chris. Who, by the way, are being really helpful to me. But I just can't quit being Grumpy Gus. I'm mad at the world right now. And I swear, if the little German brats outside my window don't keep it down when I'm trying to nap, I swear I'm going to start throwing things at them.

See? Grumpy Gus.