Shelby Cass's Weblog

And hoping I don’t crash into anyone…:)

Saw Dr. Li yesterday…I think it was yesterday Well, if today is Tuesday then I saw him yesterday. Court had to drive because I guess you’re not supposed to drive on these drugs, and when we got into the examining room, Court hopped into the examining chair and I sat in the guest chair. Dr. Li walked in and stopped short when he saw Courtland.

“Hi! I’m here for my checkup!” said Courtland.

Dr. Li’s mouth moved a little but nothing came out. Then he looked at me and said “I don’t want to get in trouble.” I don’t know what that meant, but I laughed anyhow. And he said “Courtland! We’re always talking about you! Good to see you.”

I wiggled into the plush leather seat and Dr. Li tried to see into my mouth…he should have been wearing a mask–STEENKY! But I guess he’s used to it because he didn’t even grimace. As he was leaning over, his badge caught my eye and I looked at at and started laughing. I reached out and grabbed it and said “How old were you in this picture? Like 10?”

He laughed. Then I asked if I saw pix of him as a kid would I be like “Oh! A mini!” And he laughed again and said “That would be my son. People say he’s a miniature of me.” And now my mission in life is to see his son. Stalk much? *evil laugh*

So he gave me more drugs (did I mention I love him?) and instructed me to get as much laxative in as possible…! I have lost 10 lbs and no BM so maybe after that it will be like 15 lbs!!! *snicker* He said I would be turning a corner soon and he was right. Last night was much better and today I have barely had to take anything. It’s still really weird to be aware of stitches in my throat and swallowing is still something I am voting off the island, but it’s definitely better than the day before.

Courtland just got back from the store and he bought the fruit section. XOXOXOXOX You can’t have him, he’s MINE!

Here it is…4am on Monday morning.  My dear dear laptop hath passed away RIP.  I am waiting til my next dose…which makes me feel like a junkie until I realise 1. a junkie wouldn’t wait and 2. I am in PAIN!

I wonder if Dr. Li is going to refill my prescription.  I sure hope so.  I have been good about administering but when it hurts…man it hurts.  I feel like someone split my lip open to the bone in the chin…oh wait, they did.  And my ears seem to be affected somehow by this whole thing.  I have to ask about that.  I have to plug my ears before I swallow to help prevent some of the pain.  I don’t know if it actually prevents any pain, but at least I’m distracted because my fingers are in my ears and I am trying to swallow?  Who knows.  It still hurts.  But yes, less than a few days ago.  I am, in fact, on the mend.

My friend Duncan said I am probably not getting enough protein with my 1 ensure a day, so recommended I order this stuff he says is NOT chalky…so either it’s not chalky and I get more protein, or he just inherited another container of it

On the upside…or is it downside?  I have lost about 8 lbs.  Of course the day I actually EAT something 1/2 of that will come back, but I’m still pretty happy.  Go surgery diet!

Ugh I have a feeling Dr. Li is going to make me open my mouth.  That will suck.  I really cannot move my lower lip much without horrible pain.

Okay I’m done complaining.  I will now return to my lump on the chaise lounge.  Bye bye.

PS My car Rira snores.  Should I worry? 

Alas, the tickets purchased with glee months and months ago have left the building without me tonight.  Eddie Izzard in SF…I sent Courtland and the other 5 tickets into the world where C, R&D, EV and some lucky street ticket purchaser will by now be sitting in velvet chairs laughing their asses off to the rhymes and reasoning of Mr. Eddie Izzard.  And so I write…But don’t feel sorry for me (unless your feeling sorry for me makes Eddie stop by apres show for a drink or something) because I am going to share the story behind the infamous Shelby and Eddie boob grab picture.  And even if I have already shared this (which I know I probably have)…I don’t care!  Leave me be.  I’m on opiates, not at the show, so reliving the good old days.

Here’s how the story begins:  I’d just been dumped.  REALLY DUMPED.  Like right on my ass and found out I didn’t bounce dumped.  And it sucked.  One of the first phone calls I made was to C who, as it turns out, was probably the best person I could have called.  The next day, she called back and said, “I was thinking.  If I had just been dumped and had crawled under my bed to sulk, I might want someone to take me to see Eddie Izzard.”  To which I replied (read: wailed), “I CAN’T!  My eyes are PUFFY!!!!!” Banter banter, babble whine, hang up.  Called back maybe 20 seconds later and said “Um.  Can I still go?”

Eddie had just gotten his new boobs.  The ones I hear were modeled after Uma Thurman’s…  and his show “Sexie” spent a large amount of time talking about said breasts, executive transvestitism, and airplane cabin pressure.  I laughed.  And I laughed.  And I laughed.  I gufawed more than a few times.  I may have peed in my pants a little.  It was awesome.  And to make things AWESOMER, turns out our buddy Warren had procured BACKSTAGE PASSES, and I had talked and walked someone into buying a disposable camera at the corner Walgreeens.  So there we were with Eddie and my friends who are loud mouth smart asses were SILENT.  Like little kids looking at their first TRex.  It was stunning.  There we were, in Eddie Izzard’s dressing room…and he was all tired post show and my friends were all wired and star-struck post-show and I was all I-could-give-a-flying flock-of-sheep post-dumping so I said, “Aren’t we going to take a picture?”

We stood together and *snap* it was done.  I felt less than exhilerated.  I thought it would look like our 3rd grade picture with Mrs. Izzard.

So I said, “can we do another?  But with more action?”  And everyone kind of looked at me blankly…and it occurs to me they were possibly mortified I’d been invited.  I said, “Since a lot of the show was about breasts, let’s all hold our breasts for the picture…and I’ll hold Eddie’s.”  To which Eddie replied, “You can try.”  “Pardon?”  “You can try.”  I accepted the challenge.  1-2 grab boob-3 click.

Then Eddie turned to me and said, “Well…?  How was it?”

I turned blond.  “How was what?”  he motioned towards his ample busoms and I exclaimed “Oh!  Right!  Well, actually I wasn’t paying attention.  Do you mind?”  I reached forward and he offered breast.

I compared…with what I had on hand (my own).  Squeeze, jiggle…heft… “Pretty good!”
“Really?” he says, and I say “Yes.  Here..” and offer my breast (as a lady should).

He compared.  Squeeze, jiggle, heft…”They’re perky!.”

“Mine?” (oops, blond moment again)

“AND mine…” he says.  Right we were talking about his…so then I cannot help it.  I must…and I did…and here you are.

My dad was so proud.

memories….light the corners of my mind…(sung a al Tom Hanks in Big)

Woohoo!  That’s a sound I am certainly not making…since swallowing my own spit peaks me to close to a 10 of 10 pain scale.  But I am now officialy recovering, right?  Who knows what the final results will be…with all this swelling I’m sure it will be dramatically different than how it feels right now.

I’m only writing a quick note to let you know I survived.  Dr. Li hid in a corner of the OR while I was getting my drugs (because he was slinging plenty of garbage across the room that morning), so he might not survive when I have my strength back…  ah I tease.  He’s a great doctor.  Came to see my twice while I was in the hospital.

I did NOT have ANY idea how bad this was going to hurt.  Oh my gosh…seriously.  Now I know why some people get the UPPP and then never go any further even though the MMA would help/cure…this surgery is a doozie!!!  I don’t think the oxycodone made a dent the 1st 24 hours, but I’m sure I’ll be pounding the aloe vera and prune juice to make up for the doses I painfully got down every 2 hours like clockwork.

My friend David came over and brought me ice yesterday.  That rocked.  Now my daddy is coming over and I aksed him for ice too.  Who knew this would swell so much?  My gills from the tonsils and my poor poor chin from the re-cutting and re-moving of the screws.  Yes. I kept the screws.  To be posted later.  Now off to try to get some semblance of calories…ensure…blech.

Ah…I shy away from the blog when it’s important…don’t know why.  And this is important, so of course I ignored the blog for 2 weeks because that would make it all too real.  Unfortunately, it’s still real whether I write about it or not, so here I am.  Writing.  And tomorrow, I get surged.  Again.

Last update I found out the 34.8 sleep index and broke Dr. Li’s eardrum with profanities (ok really just one profanity).  The following Monday I had a meeting with Dr. Li and this is how it went:

Dr. Li enters room “Shelby!  How ya doin’?”

“I’m good.  Tired…”  Sad look.

Dr. Li gets out his fave tools and stretches my nostrils to see into my airway.  Then shines the light down my throat and turns his back to me.  He looks at my pictures on his computer and I turn around in the chair and say “Whatcha thinkin’?”  And he mooshes his face like an unhappy muppet and I say “Don’t make the muppet face!  Are you thinking ‘reverse Stanford Protocol’?”  To which he nods…and still has his lips all pressed shut.  “UPPP? I ask.”  “No, I don’t do that” he says.  “You keep your uvula.”  “So I can still speak French?”  He stops a sec…and smiles.  “Exactly.  So you can still speak French.”  “‘Cause that’s important” I say.

He explained to me what he would do: the tonsils and the soft palate lift thingamabopper.  I ask “You going to take my adenoids?”  “You don’t have adenoids” he says.  “Oh.  I didn’t know that.  Why not?”  “You don’t have adenoids ever since you became…a girl.”  I paused.  “Hm.  I never knew girls didn’t have adenoids.”  “Everyone has adenoids, but they shrink when you hit puberty.”  Another pause and I say, “I think you should know, I was born a girl.”  He looks sideways at me and shakes his head.

As we are parting ways, I tell Dr. Li I am so stressed about this whole thing I found a white hair IN MY EYEBROW.  And he looks up at my face and says “I see that.  I think you have more than that ONE.”  Smart ass.  So I hit him…on the left arm.  And I am sorry if it affects his surgery, but he deserved it.  I happen to have ONE white hair on my head that I see every so often when I part my hair a certain way and that was IT until the rogue eyebrow hair.

Anyway, I went out to the front desk and found out they could get me in on the 16th of July so they whisked me back into the office for my pre-op.  I figure I’m sofa city sweetheart until I get this fixed, so sooner is better than later if I want my bed back.  Dr. Li gave me my prescriptions and all that jazz and said to me “With this surgery…AND you losing more weight…I will get you and Courtland in the same bed.”  That’s a mighty promise since we’re kind of spoiled with our 2 queens pushed up next to each other…but same room would suit me juuuuuust fine!  As we shook hands, I looked at Dr. Li’s full head of hair and said “I’m pretty sure you have WAY more gray than I do.”  And he stood there for a sec, mid-shake, then said “I can’t say anything.  You’re right.”  w00t!

So, tomorrow morning 5:30 am check in and 7:30am surging.  Tonsils out, soft palate lifted, and screws from chin removed…I stay one night and then go home for 3 weeks of a wicked sore throat and then…  dare to dream …sleep.

Nighty night.

First of all, I had my sleep study.  And I wanted to share, as is my nature

That was Sunday night.  Monday I was TIRED.  I did dream a lot so I know I slept, but sheesh, I was awake more than asleep that’s for sure.  On Monday morning when the tech was removing the electrodes and as much glue as possible from my head, I asked “Can you tell me if I had any events?  He paused and said “You had a lot of hypopneas.  Well, that explained the headaches and the fatigue, but I figured it still had to be TONS better than before my surgery, right?

Had my preliminary study faxed to Dr. Li who called me on my way to work on Thursday morning.  Here’s the conversation (on my headset of course):

DL: Shelby, this is Dr. Li!

me: Yes.  Hi Dr. Li.  How are you?

DL: Shelby.  You still have sleep apnea!

me: Can I swear?

DL: Yes

me: F***************CK!  Ok thank you.

And then we went on to talk about things like me coming in to see him on Monday at 3:30 and him looking at my airway to see if tonsils need to come out.  And he also said “Shelby, I’m going to tell you something you don’t want to hear.”  I said “I have to wear the freaking machine.”  He said “No.  You have to lose weight.”  And I said I’ve never had a problem with hearing that.  And he said “Yes you did!  We were fighting!…Oh wait, oh yeah, we were fighting because…”  And I said “Yes.  We were fighting because you said Courtland was leaving me for a younger model.”  And he said “Oh yeah.  Ok.  So: More sushi, less pasta.”

I went to work and was sad.  Not because of the sushi prescription which I could do in a hearbeat, but because…what do you mean I still have sleep apnea?  Then again, now I know why I kept looking at Court on the weekends and saying “I don’t know what it is, I could just sleep all day.

On my way home I called Dr. Li’s office and asked Daisy…or Juanita (I cannot remember who had to bear the bad news) what my number was.  I figured if it was originally 43 (when I had zero body fat because I was dying) it should be at least down to 20 or something post surgery (yes I know I’m a big girl right now)…but I was NOT prepared for the number: 34.8

That’s all I have to say.  Until after Monday when Dr. Li looks at my airway I cannot deal.

Keep in mind I am happier and healthier than I have ever been…so even this cannot change that.  Have a wonderful and safe 4th of July! I’m BBQing some ribs with Court and Cynthia and David’s coming over later.  We’ve got Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii and the sun is out.  Plenty to keep my mind of Suckfest 2008…but hey…maybe if he removes my tonsils I’ll lose weight *giggle*

I added Wall*E into my subject just because Court and I got to see it twice before it hit the theaters and just think it is adorable.

So, braces.  I don’t have them.  But I do have a retainer which has me investing in large quantities of denture cleaner.  Alas, my back left teeth still do not touch, so Dr. Quo added a couple “buttons” and I now wear a rubber band waaaay back there.  I look gooood putting it on.  Buttons are really just brackets.  I had issues with them, but I got over it.  It’s a bit of maneavering to get the retainer on OVER the buttons, but I pretend it’s a puzzle and that I am challenging my pre frontal cortex.  I so smart.

Sleep.  I’ve slept better.  But then again, I’ve slept much worse for years before now so you would think that I could be grateful for the sleep I get…and I am!  Believe me!  But I’ve been getting tired.  And Monday was the last straw.  First of all, the reason I got diagnosed at all was because Courtland kept saying he was so tired and he didn’t know why.  So I started noticing that although he thinks he’s a heavy sleeper (and he LOOKS like a heavy sleeper when he’s asleep), he actually wakes up a little every time I woke up and moved. You know how you can tell someone is just in light and not deep sleep if they move?  Well, I would wake up, move, and then he would move.  So I moved into a different room and after about a week, lo and behold, he was far less sleepy.  Over the past few months we have been getting more and more tired and blamed it on everything.  The cold, the heat, the noise, the silence, the cats, and had resorted to blaming all the smoke in the area from California being on fire.  I suspected bad things because I started having bad dreams (you know, shot in the gut, left to bleed to death, car stolen, the usual) and woke up snoring a few times (sooo attractive), and on Monday morning driving into work I was so sad to realise that I really wanted to pull over to the side of the road and take a nap.  It just would feel so good!  So I called Dr. Li and they got in me in to see him.

Of course seeing Dr. Li just makes the whole world disappear and it’s just me and him and my stupid jaw…did I metnion we were in a fight?  I saw him a few weeks ago for a follow up (I know, I know, should I have mentioned my fatigue then?  Shush.  I figured he’d just tell me I was fat – using different words) and the FIRST thing he said as he burst into the room was “When’s the wedding?”  WTF?  Well, we moved past that random topic and chit chatted about stuff, then on his way out he said “Maybe he’s looking for a younger model.”  Okay.  WAR.  I told the entire office.  But when I went in last week all miserable and tired he poked his head in the door and said “Are we still fighting?” and I decided it wasn’t worth it to be mad at him. So I said no.  And then we back to normal and he stuck things up my nose and peered into my throat and said he needed another sleep study.  I asked what that would show and he said he wanted to know if I still had some apnea and if so, then he wanted to figure out how to get rid of it.  Really?  There may be other options before turning into Gonzo every night for the rest of my life?  He said yes, for startes, you still have your tonsils.  *gulp*  I don’t know how I feel about any of this.  Maybe it was the heat cold cats smoke and I don’t have any sleep apnea and this is all just a false alarm in my wanna be drama queen life.  We shall see.

For now I am going to go take a shower and mentally prepare myself for the wonderful gluing of electrodes to my entire scalp and please oh please do not let them put that tube down my nose into my throat.  Sleep well out there!

I am the Burninator. Let me tell you why. The roof of my mouth is numb. I’m kind of in denial I guess about exactly HOW numb it is, because a few weeks ago I had my first post-surgery hard candy and was shocked at how weird it felt in my mouth. It basically pointed out every single numb spot it hit by spontaneously disappearing when I moved it over one. So..I’m numb. Whatever. Wouldn’t change any of it for the world. Would do the surgery again if transported back in time and just got diagnosed with sleep apnea. That does not, however, make me a smart person. No. Far from.

A few days ago Courtland and I felt the need to visit the golden arches. We usually split one meal plus extra sandwich so as to offset some of the guilt we feel towards our waistlines after dining. There was a new sandwich advertised all over the place. The new Southwestern Chicken Sandwich. And after ordering it, I found out that “Southwestern” means 2 pickles and no sauce. So now you know. Anywho, after powering down my half of the fresh from the fryer fries, I dug into said sandwich and watched enviously as Court devoured his Quarter Pounder. I couldn’t help it. I asked for a bite. And after that tasty taste, I offered him a bite of mine which he accepted. He leaned over the table, took a bite, and let out a howl as the bite dropped out of his mouth. “It’s HOT!” Hm.. I hadn’t noticed.

I took another bite and observed how I expertly re-routed all too-hot bits to the roof of my mouth until suitable for chewing. Interesting. I ate the rest of my sammie and would probably not have remembered the entire incident except later in the evening, when I swapped my day retainer for my night one, my tongue touched the roof of my mouth and I thought, “THAT doesn’t feel right.” I had to think a moment about why the roof of my mouth felt literally torn up until I remembered…and then I looked…and oooh baby. I think that’s what they call 3rd degree burns. Yeah? Yucky blisters? I am the Burninator. Numb, evidently = Dumb.

I’m so glad I wrote about the sleep apnea surgery I had…because I keep learning every day that it helps people…even in the littlest ways. Like, just letting them know someone’s been there, done that… The other day I received a comment on a very old post from a guy about to have the same MMA/GA I had who, it turns out, works down the street from where I live. He asked if I would mind meeting him for lunch sometime, so of course I said yes. I mean, I kind of had to. He caught all my Morrissey references. Did you?

So, we met at Luna’s…I never say no to Mexican food, and well, John is awesome…and I am so excited for him. Not because he’s getting surged (though it’s by the amazing Dr. Li so I’m not at all worried), but that he’s going to start his healing journey soon…and I look forward to hearing or reading all about it. We talked about the “chin bonus” of the surgery, but overall, we just talked about life with sleep apnea and the things that will most likely change when it fades into the background. John is also a mashup king and had made me 2 discs of his faves. Super score!

I did take a picture…and I can look at it on my camera, but my computer no likee, so you no see. Sorry. I’ll check with John and if he’s cool with it, I’ll mention his blog next entry. He’s writing his blog in letters to mom format which I think is awesome. (If only my mom would get online EVER. Court and I gave her my old computer but so far I think it’s probably being used as a stool for her to sit on.)

I saw hottie Dr. Steve yesterday and he polished up my theethses all nice and squeaky clean. He has a Shelby too. Have I mentioned that? Well, we all think it’s funny. They just had a baby (8 weeks ago) so I got to hear all about it. My teeth still don’t touch in the back on the left and I am really bummed about that, because I’m pretty sure it means more things attached to my teeth. grr arg.

This is more rambly than usual. Don’t know why. Guess the brain is here and there and occasionally pitches in a word or two.

I just got a picture today from some friends who had us over a little while ago. I think I might like it. What do you think? Here it is.

(taken by Sumul Shah )

First let me start by saying that I was raised by the KING of practical jokes. Not just your typical everyday “where’s my ice cream” jokes, but rest assured there were plenty of those too. My dad is funny. But kind of mean funny. Maybe kind of “evil” funny (And put your pinkie finger up to the corner of your mouth when you say “evil”). How do I make this sound like he’s not a jerk? Dad’s brain works in mysterious ways. He does the crossword in the paper everyday, and reads the entire paper too. He’s an executive chef (French trained – and anyone who has tasted his food will rave, not just his kids), and not a tiny man. My dad is 6’4″ and (I hope he doesn’t kill me for this) somewhere around 300lbs. They say never trust a skinny chef. Well, you can trust my dad’s food is going to ROCK. But it might come at a price.

Here’s something that happened to me when I was a kid. I can’t remember how old I was, but I do know we were going to visit my dad’s friend Ken (whom I had not seen since I was diapered) in the East Bay and I had brought my roller skates to have something to do while the boys were watching their game. Dad parked about a half a block away and said “Shelby, go up to that door and ring the bell. Stand with your left hand on your hip and your right hand on the door frame, and when Ken answers the door, I want you to say, ‘Hey Big Boy’.” My terrified look didn’t change anything. The thing with my dad is, if he thinks of something and giggles with excitement, you MUST participate willingly or he goes from giggles to ultra bummed, bordering on pissed. So I did it. And a very tall and even bigger than my dad man answered the door. And Ken was shocked for about a quarter of a second until he peered around me and said, “Nice. Where’s your dad.”

I could go on for a very long time about all the jokes my dad has orchestrated, and perhaps someday I will, but today I did not actually start writing to tell you about my dad. I was writing to tell you about this HILARIOUS joke that was played on Courtland a couple weeks ago, which I thought was Dad-caliber funny.

Courtland is a software engineer. He is good at what he does, but he does not tolerate distraction well. I don’t either, so I can understand why he gets crazy. (I just don’t understand why he gets annoyed at me sometimes, because I’m his girlfriend and everything I do is pleasant and soothing.) I contract around the Bay Area and the Peninsula on Thursdays and Fridays so occasionally I find myself in Court’s neck of the woods, and he likes it when I sometimes get him a Starbucks soy latte and bring it over to him. This particular day I arrived with the lattes (one for me) and Courtland said I was welcome to come up and drink with him, but warned me he would be “sitting somewhere weird” because there was something beeping at his desk.

I thought that meant there was a noise that was bothering him, so he’d moved to a different location away from the noise. Imagine my surprise when we got upstairs and he crawled under his co-worker Buddy’s desk, flopped on his back, and stayed there.

Turns out, he’d unplugged everything possible at his desk, which butted up against Buddy’s desk, and since the noise kept happening (at random intervals) he had narrowed it down to one of Buddy’s computers, but didn’t know which one and since Buddy was at lunch, couldn’t unplug anything of his. While I was standing there looking down at him, I heard a buzz/ring. It was a really annoying sound. It was high pitched and sounded like something that would drive a dog mad. Court got really pissed. “It’s NOT this computer!.” He wiggled over to Buddy’s second CPU and Buddy came back from lunch. Court didn’t move, so Buddy sat down.

As the rest of his co-workers filtered in from lunch, comments were made about Court’s new work location and people wondered if Buddy felt at all uncomfortable with Court sticking out from under his desk next to his feet (to which he replied, “It is a little more awkward than I’d expected.”). The noise happened again and Court yelled again. “Dammit! It’s not this one either!”

Everyone seemed amused at Courtland’s obvious distress, and no one seemed angry that he was having mini hissy fits every time this thing beeped, so I took a seat on the left side of his desk and figured I would help him find the noise. Then Court did something even more outrageous than lying under Buddy’s desk. He actually stood on top of his desk and squatted down. I thought it kind of looked like he was going to go to the bathroom on the desktop zen rock garden he was straddling. I wondered what everyone else thought of him as he maintained that pose for another 3 minutes until the noise happened again right by my foot. I could almost feel the sound.

Court crawled under his desk, and Steve (who sits behind Buddy) crawled under Buddy’s desk and threw something towards Court. Buddy crawled under his desk and said “What’s this?” I couldn’t see what was happening under there, so all I heard was Court say “OHH. VERY nice. WELL played.” When he came up from under his desk he was holding a tiny box that looked like this (sorry I cannot upload pic directly, my blog seems to suck):

http://flickr.com/photos/smac10/2408985686/

Evidently, Steve had ordered this nifty little gadget from thinkgeek.com and the whole office was in on the annoy-a-Court event. It didn’t stop there, though. Courtland still had to find it. And he did.

http://flickr.com/photos/smac10/2408986894/

Now, why am I writing this post today? Because SOMEONE has hidden the annoy-a-tron in our apartment and I have been going MAD trying to find it. So it’s not just a one time gift…no. It will keep giving. Because even though you know what that FRIKKING ANNOYING SOUND is….if you cannot find it…it’s working!!! So when Court gets home, he’d better turn it off…or so help me… We are SO in a fight.