The big day is here. Four-twenty-four. Forty-two.
I sort of thought I'd spend it surfing the net for Botox coupons or plastic surgeons that accept old mascara tubes in lieu of Visa.
Not so much.
Instead, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Lansing, Kansas.
I know, I know. You're so jealous. After all, what with the huge penitentiary and world-renowned Dairy Queen, Lansing is the Travel Channel's number three pick for world's best prison view vacation.
Sadly my room doesn't have a view of the foreboding structure, but it does have an in room coffee maker, so it's all good.
Why, oh why Sher, are you in Lansing, Kansas...alone even... on your birthday? You... the OCD Chick...the woman who spends no less than thirty minutes when first she walks in a hotel room looking for microscopic hair and wiping everything down with Clorox Wipes?
Friday at noon, Kitten had all four of her wisdom teeth extracted. I made the trip here to hold her hand, wait in the waiting room and deliver her pain meds when she was all done.
Which I did.
At around 8:00 PM that night, after making sure she was sufficiently drugged and all tucked in bed, I left her in the care of her boyfriend and drove the three hours home.
Early the next morning, her boyfriend called me to tell me she'd been up all night vomiting and crying and in pain. "Take her to the hospital," I ordered.
Which he did.
I got in my car and headed back to Kitten's side. What I saw when I got to the hospital nearly made Momma hit the ground. Her tiny, little face was swollen to such a size, had I not given birth to her I wouldn't have recognized her. Sitting a top her tiny 95 pound body, her noggin' was so Elephant Man enormous, I thought if she stood up she might tip over backwards.
She was spitting blood and sick to her tummy and in pain and it took every Mother cell in my body to keep from passing smooth out beside her hospital bed.
I stayed up with her all night as she couldn't get enough relief to even sleep. It was heart breaking. Heart wrenching, even.
Long story short, she has bled into her tissue and has an infection (already and despite the antibiotic horse pills she was taking). This morning we are going to see a different oral surgeon that is at least in his forties because I'm not letting her anywhere near Doogie Dentist again. This new guy said he may have to drain some fluid...which can't be anything nice. I'm sitting here now trying to prepare myself mentally so that I can fake being a tough as nails Mom and not vomit on the dentist's shoes right before I hit the floor and pee on myself when he explains to us what is involved in "draining".
So to answer your question, I'm in a Holiday Inn Express this morning because last night, in much need of some sleep and a shower, I left her again in the care of her boyfriend and checked into a germ circus aka my hotel room.
"Happy Birthday, dear She-er, happy birthday to you."
If I had a cake, I'd put out the inferno on top of it and I'd make a wish.
Please, please, please, oh great and powerful birthday candles, please make my Kitten all better without having to undergo any further painful procedures.
And if there is any candle magic left, please send me a pretty monkey with a syringe full of Botox in one hand and a fist full of hundreds in the other.
Turn up your speakers and listen to what I'm listening to on my day. It'll be good for you!
Patsy. I can't help it. I love her awful.
Rascal Flatts Still one of my favorite songs ever....ever.
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