Month: August 2010

Because I know by the end of this email you are going to need to know how to find Carl, you can find him at his Century 21 Facebook Page located http://tinyurl.com/24bmq3m .

So, here’s the story.  Last summer, at the last minute, literally days before Florida schools would have been in session, we decided to move.  We were just going to pack up, hit the road, and begin a new adventure.  Having not lived in the Orlando area for a long time, we weren’t sure about neighborhoods, schools, or things along those lines.  As anxious as we were, we could have sent them to Dr. Nick’s School of SMRT Kids and probably been fine with that – at least for the school year – but we thought we should do a parent’s due diligence and scope out the lay of the land.

Because we were so late in deciding to do anything, renting seemed like a good idea.  We were driving around neighborhoods that we believed to be good, and in passing through, found a police car.  Jim, being the sociable being he is, pulled into the parking lot to ask the guy what he thought of the neighborhood.  In his honest opinion, he didn’t know anything about the neighborhood, but he did give us the business card for his buddy, Carl.

Carl knocked himself out last summer, trying to find our temporary Florida home, and when we finally found one, it was through no fault of his that the people renting it put oddities in their contract – including things like “If our air conditioner stops working, you have to replace it”.  We always knew that when the time was right again, we’d find Carl and work with him.

This was going to be the year to move.  I was planning to have surgery early in the summer, so by the end of the summer, I was in good shape, house hunting, and ready to go.  Unfortunately, I didn’t bounce back as quickly as I had hoped, and after a week of house hunting and not finding anything, I became sick and had to return to the hospital in NJ.

Carl never wavered for a moment in working with us, and provided us mountains of information and dozens of housing options.  He’s been great at scouting out areas with the best schools, and pointing us in the direction of the right house.

If you are ever in the Orlando area, looking for an agent that will find you what you need, check out Carl.  He will eventually be the agent who sells us our Florida home.

Because people are sending me messages and asking ever so politely (like the one “What the hell is going on with you??”) why I haven’t updated my status and what’s going on with me, here’s the latest and the greatest.

First, no one is to feel sorry for what’s going on.  I am not the world’s best patient, by any stretch.  When I was supposed to be home, sitting on my arse, recovering from the initial surgery, I was reaching for things I couldn’t reach, taking car rides I didn’t need to take, and doing way more bending and lifting than I probably should.

Then when my surgeon expressed concern over a 10 day trip to Florida while I had an open wound, I gave him big puppy dog eyes and batted my eyelashes.  When he wasn’t impressed by either of those things, I begged, pleaded, and promised video conferencing if necessary.  He finally consented, against his better judgement, and we all know how that turned out.  I got infected with germs known only to alien space rangers inhabiting the far reaches of New Mexico in government secured facilities, and ended up spending nearly a week at the lovely Paoli Hospital and Day Spa.

Obviously, some of this is my own fault.  And really, it’s not all that bad.  I am not in a tremendous amount of pain; the nurses like to remind me that I shouldn’t be pushing, pulling, or lifting, so I’ve had quite the reprieve from housework and other daily chores; and my doctor is a cutie, so weekly visits to see him aren’t even all that painful.  So don’t feel sorry!!

So where am I now?

Let me introduce you to my significant other – the wound VAC.  This fabulous little device hangs around my neck, cleverly concealed in an oh so stylish black canvas bag (Louis Vuitton eat your heart out), and continually sucks stuff out of the wound.  The nifty and convenient canister holds all of the bodily fluids that my body apparently doesn’t need, and it improves circulation in the area of the wound to promote healing.  It reduces healing time by up to 60% on average.

And you thought I was just another imperfect face!

The nurses and my doctor seem really pleased with how well I am healing, although the one wound nurse that is an expert in this field estimates I probably have another two months committed to the wound VAC.  My goal is to be wound VAC free by the time of our Moms Panel October reunion.  Fingers crossed.

In the grand scheme of things, life is good.  I am well on my way to recovery, down about 15 pounds from where I was before surgery, and fitting more comfortably in a smaller size (or two, depending on the clothes).

Tune in next week…or whenever I get around to it…..to see the next chapter of As the World Turns!

It’s the most wonderful time of the year!  No, not when the kids go back to school!  No, not when you can put away your bathing suit (and the multitude of bathing suit covers that hid all the stuff you didn’t want people to see on the beach all summer long).

It’s time to gear up to apply for the Walt Disney World Moms Panel!  In just a very short time, you’ll be able to log in and apply for the job that will change your life.  Well, it changed mine anyway, and only in fabulously positive ways.

I’ll post a much longer post (because you all know that brevity is not my strong suit) about how much this has all meant to me, as I quickly and sadly approach the end of my tenure on the panel, but for now, BE EXCITED!

Keep your eyes peeled right here – http://disneyworldforum.disney.go.com/recruiting/the_program_is_closed.aspx

Golden Corral

Audubon, NJ

Today was a busy day for us.  It was my first visit back to my surgeon since my hospitalization, and it seems that the nurses, even Nurse Ratched, are not lulling me into a false sense of security when they tell me my wound is looking good.  I have one damn sexy wound.

We drove out to Medford to pick the girls up, and having already been up since before six this morning, while I answered questions for www.disneyworldmoms.com, Jim took a nap.  We then left for his 4:45 appointment with the family doctor, just to see how he is and check on his blood pressure.  To top all of that off, we’ve been filling out disability forms that are really enough to drive anyone to mental illness, therefore qualifying them for disability.

So when we left the doctor’s office at just after 5, the thought of actually cooking dinner was appealing to no one.  When Jim offered to get something for dinner, I couldn’t decide what.  Granuaile wanted the diner for their SpongeBob special (fish sticks).  Eilis was happy with McDonald’s.  I couldn’t decide.  As a result of my indecision, we opted for Golden Corral – a chain buffet restaurant.  Surely they would have something for everyone.

And they did.  If what you were looking for was sticky tables, empty buffet stations, cruddy floors, nasty bathrooms (no, these bathrooms were beyond nasty – with an overwhelming odor of urine, filthy floors, and inadequate hand washing supplies), and dirty trays and utensils – they had it all.

The food here is basic American buffet fair.  You’ll find an abundance of fried food and starches; meats of some sort (on this particular evening, there was baked ham; pot roast; meatloaf; Bourbon chicken; Mongolian beef; and ribs); and something resembling a form of seafood – tonight being four different kinds of fried shrimp; fried catfish; and shrimp in lobster sauce.  It’s not good food, but it’s not bad food.  It’s mediocre food, all you want of it, cheap.

I’m not knocking Golden Corral – it is what it is, and it doesn’t pretend to be something it isn’t.  But it should at least be clean.  And it isn’t that.  On a night when there was no line waiting to get in, plenty of empty tables, and no packed buffet line, you have to wonder how bad it would be on those days we’ve driven past and the place is mobbed.

And next time, I’ll be quicker and more decisive so we don’t end up here again.