Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda Done

I am with my insignifigant other for what I think is 7 years now is the woulda coulda shoulda guy. It's a very annoying trait..this is the way it usually goes. " I would have gotten this for your birthday but....." : I was thinking about doing this for you but...." Always thinking that the thought counts, and it does, but after 7 years, you come to realize it is just an excuse, and he is better off not "Would have done this and would have done that" than even mention it. It's amazing falling asleep next to somebody and feeling completly alone.


I am going in for a third back surgery next week. The scary part of surgery, is when you have done it before, you find yourself wondering why in the hell are you doing it again. It hurts, but you take on more pain, in hopes of reliving it in the end. Crazy.

I am one week away and I always get butterflys. Going in for pre-op tests, I am scared to death, but praying maybe this time, it will work. Being scared puts your life in perspective.
These are the things that go on in my head: Just in case in the rare occurrence I croak.

1. I renew my will. No I do not have millions, but I do want my wishes for my children to be taken into consideration if anything should ever happen.
2. I think of what I shoulda woulda coulda done with my life that I wished I did...and this makes me sad.


Ha! Maybe I am the same, as the other half of my relationship. Not towards him and things I do or give him, but in my own life. Did I finish nursing school? Did I take yoga, did I ever put together the scrapbooks I have been meaning to do for the last few years? Who am I going to vote for in the upcoming election? Did I hug my kids enough? I should have made that homeade potato soup with ham and chives and chedder cheese. Damn, so what if it is all carbs. And the big one.....Was I happy?

Not to be morbid or anything, but I have embraced my innermost thoughts and feelings upon reflection and know some things must change in me, and in my world that is around me. Instead of being petrified, it's almost like a good time to make a middle of the year New Year's resolution. Something attainable so I feel capable, so I can move on to the bigger issues. It's a good self check to think If I died next week...was my life fufilling?

Bringing you into my world

Ok so where have I been? Alien abduction of course!!

During this time away I had total lack of creativity as if it had been sucked out of my head by a big black hole. To make a long story short, I had alot of things going on...landed a promotion. I am not sure if it was by my low cut blouse, or "I'm quitting if I don't get paid what I am worth" and the low cut blouse, but I got it, and it was crazy from September untill now.

Then my son had an issue with...well..umm..er his penis ok? He had what the dr thought was a mass, that turned out to be an enlarged vein and if it causes him any sudden increase in pain he has to be taken to the hospital immediatly so he does not lose a nut. Yes...a nut. Poor little guy..12 years old and having doctors fondling him and a sonogram of those parts by a ultra hottie young lady, has left my son scarred for the rest of his life. It was like a bad movie. The doc comes in the room with what...oh yes another doctor, a medical student and they take turns...examining my son.

He did not speak to me for the rest of the day.

Hey..I love my son..he'll thank me that he will be able to keep his nuts in tack...unlike my dogs...which leads me to my next story..

I have adopted two dogs...pugs..Cosmo and Winston. They don't do much of anything. They do however shed..alot.



My other son had some medical issues as well which we later found to be some sort of enzyme defficency that lead to symptoms of gouty arthritis in his hands and neck, and made him throw up alot. It was horrible. How ever it did not account for his 14 year old attitude of "You're so dumb" and I know EVERYTHING because I am a 14 year old know it all, and my room is clean eyerolling. I need to make a pill a day to get rid of that. I could make MILLIONS!

Finally, I took a trip down memory lane and read all my old postings, as painful as that is. I read about when I had my last back surgery...my percocet psotings. I gotta say I am fucking hilarious.Well, at leaset I think I was. Let me just say..if we all had some PER-Co-cet...life would be alot happier. We could all be in MORopHINE land together...life is so much nicer there. I remembered ABSOLUTLY nothing bothered me there. Ahhhhh memories. I also posted how I feel sorry for people that were in pain every day. Well guess what..I am one of them.

Ps..if you do not like four letter words..mainly the one the f one, you know FUCK...don't read any furthur, I just read this blog before posting it,(no not to proofread my spelling errors..i will NEVER do that), but I feel I might have aquired touretts... I may have misspelled this too...)

Today I went to my neurosurgeon of two years. He likes looking at my boobs. He looks at them everytime I visit...or should I say when me and the girls visit. We discussed some options, one of which involves surgry. I can help but think that once I am on the table, in the little hospital gown, they will undrape my back, and he will take a nice long look at my ass...no, I know he will. I might just have my girlfriend write on my back for him to find "Stop looking at my ass and fix my back"

It's actually a funny thought.

Ok still laughing to myself.



This is where I think my black hole of "where did my creativity go" (no were not talking about my ass anymore)...it's in the black hole of "My fucking back hurts" Clearly the fuck word is my most powerful word of writing choice today...say it along with me F U C K..there now, dosnt that make everything better? It helps with my frustation and keeps me from going into the land O therapy

I did pain clinic, meditation, yoga, epidurals, but could I get the holy grail of PERCOCET? Nooooooooooooo. So for 2 years it has been an ALmighty Heidi struggle of PAIN. Don't ever get a back fusion.

I go next week I think to get the rods and screws taken out in hopes this will relieve pressure that it is putting on the herniated disk below my fusion and the brand fucking new herniated disk above the fusion.

But there is good news in all of this...welcome back MOR O PHINE my gooood long lost friend.

So this hopefully will be it, otherwise if I dissappear again, since no doctors will give out pain meds anymore,you will know that I have become a crack hoar in a city near you....ok maybe not...

So this where I've been. Not looking for pity..maybe percocet, but not pity...hahahaha. It's been so much fun reading my old gangs posts..xdell...rainy pete.. foam...you are still you and that makes life normal..or does it...I am talking about you guys right? hahahahahahaha.

Moral of todays story...all doctors are pervs....and quit looking at my ass....no not the cute one....

Love the ALmighty Heidi

A score of zero (as in tennis)

I am a nerd. I love to look up the meaning of words in the dictionary. You’ll see me do that a lot in my blog.

So I looked up the meaning of love and it is listed as a noun, which if you really know love..Especially being a parent, love IS a verb.Now what threw me for a loop was besides the “warm attachment”, and “unselfish and loyal benevolent concern for another” blah blah blah, that was listed there was another description “a score of zero (as in tennis)”.

My lack of coffee attributed to my thoughts of wonder. I thought “How cool, it’s like the bible, love does not keep a list of wrongs…thus, love does not keep score…so the score between two people, would then be…zero, the way it should be when you love another person."

Then I had the “Ah Ha” moment of of…damn ….it’s really about tennis…I

n a perfect world we could have sent help to Myanmar faster than what was allowed, out of another countries fear of the unknown..but love from aid groups around the world are trying to get visas to get in the country, not because it is politically or apolitically correct, but because it is the right thing to do, it is love..love as a verb and empathy for another human being that you do not even know but in tears feel connected with. I feel the “warm attachment and the unselfish and loyal benevolent concern for another”In the perfect world…between countries, for the human race, the score would be zero…the ultimate sacrifice to not compete, but to live and thrive amongst each other in the same planet.

I'm bacccckkkkkkk

Where did the Almighty Heidi go? Simple..the aliens took me on a little sabbatical journey and now I am back cynical as ever. ..and of course, let’s not forget the male bashing 101 series that has just been boiling with brand new stories.
So for my next long awited story will start from square one, left brain vs. right brain.

Men are used to only using one brain, Ok, we all know about him using the one that is covered by a zipper on the lower part of his…region, but it is proven that he uses, most of the time dominantly the right side of the brain. While women…yes women use both. The right spatial part of the brain is where they learn visually not verbally.…aim and shoot…football, baseball, any ball, and video games etc… and sometimes even solving problems. When you say “Honey we need to talk” and it does not sink in, this is why:The left side of the brain is used for verbal skills. Men have to cross way over to the other side of the brain and this is too much work, like getting up to get the remote control off the coffee table when they are inches away on the couch.
Also it is proven hooking up both men and woman to a functional MRI, that while men are playing video games, that the reward center in their brain glows bright colors. While the woman’s reward center stays dim. We don’t get it. Women don’t get the reward pleasure of playing ridiculous games ALL DAY LONG FOR HOURS. We are able to flip over to the left side and say this is dumb, will I get anything accomplished by going to the next level? Absolutely not. Pretend game money means nothing…but don’t tell my son that, he will argue with you all day…the only verbal skills he knows, because after all he is male, and he is always right.
So moral of the story is while playing any kind of game form men….which involves the right side of the brain, reward central is going on.

Perfect example is my youngest son. I was a single mom potty training him, and I could try and TELL him how to aim (although, I did not have much of a clue how you all control that thing, most THINGS I met did not have much control anyway …made myself laugh). I finally got an idea to throw a few cheerios in the toilet since they floated, and told him to aim try and shoot the cheerios. After this experiment all was well in the potty arena. It was not so much the verbal directions that never did any good anyway, it was the spatial ability…aim and shoot…and of course the reward center is yelling Saying “ Yay, you peed on the cheerios! Do it again do it again.”

Perhaps the key to getting housework done is a reward center oriented game. If I put an actual basketball hoop over the washing machine perhaps clothes will automatically fall into there. Maybe if I had a button I could ring everytime something was picked up the floor saying “You are the man, you are awesome and there is no one on this planet like you” Things would be picked up more often. Maybe if I made up invisible money and if you do so many chores you automatically get to go up to the next level and get to put cool things on your pretend car….Ok maybe not, maybe all this time, with a grown man and two boys in the house, to keep pee off the toilet seat I should stick to keeping a box of cheerios in the bathroom.