A Bad Case of Kneesles

Over New Year's weekend, Thing 1 had a little slow speed (VERY slow speed) tip over on his dirt bike.  However, he managed to hit his knee right smack in the middle of his knee cap, which caused considerable pain.  Enough pain that we had to keep him pretty much doped up until we could get back to civilization and to the doctor.  It was obvious that Something Was Wrong with his knee:

By the time we got home, his knee was the size of a large grapefruit.  We took him to our regular doctor who told us that x-rays weren't necessary because it was just water on the knee and ice packs and Motrin were all that were needed and Thing 1 would have full mobility within a week and have a nice day buh-bye now.

A week later, the swelling is still there and Thing 1 can't lift his leg.  He can move it in a backwards kick but he can't move it forward.  And there's a dent that runs straight across his knee from left to right.  So we go back to the doctor who says the knee just needs to be drained and then it'll be fine.  He still insists x-rays aren't necessary.  Oddly enough, when the gigantic needle was inserted into Kevin's knee, no fluid came out but the doctor told us more ice packs and Motrin and Thing 1 will be fine and have full mobility within a week and have a nice day buh-bye now.

So Thing 1 goes to the Sports Injury person at his school who tells him it's NOT water on the knee and to go and see the Orthopedic Specialist who takes care of their football team.

This was on Friday.  On Saturday, Thing 1 is out in the desert for Round 1 of the Kenda National Hare & Hound Series.  He spends Saturday riding his Blais Racing Services KTM 250 (getting a few plugs here) and thinks he'll be ok to race the National the next day.  He wasn't.  He made it about 8 miles into the race when his knee was hurting too much so he threw in the towel.

Yesterday, we get in to see the Orthopedic Specialist.  The first thing they did was take x-rays, which our regular doctor said wasn't necessary.  This is what we saw on the x-ray: 

 

That thing that looks like a bird beak on the right is his knee cap.  Broken clear across.  Water on the knee my ass!

Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning.  When we saw the x-rays, I started laughing, in a derisive snorting kind of way because I was so pissed off and disgusted that we'd been given the runaround for 3 weeks by our now-ex physician.

What we thought was going to be an hour and a half office visit turned into an all-day affair due to pre-surgery lab work and early admittance paperwork.  What was worse was that I had not brought any cash with me and while we were in the hospital lobby waiting to do our admittance paperwork, the cafeteria was steps away and the most delicious smells kept wafting over us and we were STARVING!  I managed to scrape up enough change to buy 2 candy bars from the hospital gift shop to tide us over.

So because of the first doctor's refusal to do his job, Kevin's racing season is over before it's even started.  He'll be out of commission for the next few months what with recovery and rehab.  Luckily, his team owner is being very understanding and told Kevin his place on the team is safe, which is what Kevin was most worried about.

So tomorrow I get to spend the day in the hospital while my baby boy goes under the knife.  Luckily it's Same-Day surgery but I'm still all worried.  Kevin's biggest fear is not the surgery itself but the IV because it requires needles in his hand and/or arm and Kevin has an acute fear of needles to the point where he will start flailing around in freak-out mode and require smelling salts.

It's gonna be a real barrel of laughs around here during the recovery period.  I know I'll be on full-time hop & fetch duty and trying to keep Thing 1's whining down to a minimum.  Yeah, I know.  Good luck with that.

 

Dealing with a Picky Eater

Every parent has had the experience of dealing with a Picky Eater.  Picky Eaters are such a pain in the ass because of the various illogical reasons the PE won't eat something:  1) it's a certain color, B) the texture is icky and 3) "I just know I won't like it."  Trust me, I know these things because yes, I was a Picky Eater.  I had to have the crusts cut off of my Peanut Butter and Honey sandwiches which I ate while watching Sheriff John after I got home from an exhausting 4 hours of kindergarten of which 1/2 hour of that was spent taking a mandatory nap.  The only vegetable I would eat was corn.  And I refused to eat Carl's Jr. cheeseburgers because they had lines on them.  Lines!  Ick!  The rare occasions our family actually went out to dinner, I would order a cheeseburger.  Even in Chinese restaurants.  That's the only thing I would eat.

My kids aren't quite as bad as I was although Thing 2 still insists that the crusts be cut off of her Peanut Butter sandwiches.  They're not big fans of green vegetables either but they do love their fruit although if given the choice, Thing 1's diet would consist solely of junk food and Dennison's Chili con Carne with beans over a pile of tortilla chips with some shredded cheese sprinkled on top.

No, the Picky Eater I am having to deal with these days is my dog.  In the last month, Lucy has decided that her Vet-prescribed kibble (read "EXPENSIVE") that she has been happily scarfing down for the last 3 years since she was diagnosed with diabetes is no longer "acceptable" as a food choice.  Mealtimes have now turned into a Battle Royale with me begging, pleading with her to eat so that she could get her injection (she has to have food in her stomach) and Lucy literally turning up her nose at that...that...DOG food.  I've tried mixing in canned food (Trader Joe's chopped Lamb & Rice) leftover roast beef, chicken broth, chicken noodle soup, chopped up hotdogs, rice, anything I can get my hands on, into the kibble and sometimes she'll eat it but mostly she'll just pick out the good stuff and leave the now-soggy kibble behind.  I've tried spoon feeding her and it's a total crapshoot if she'll "allow" me to feed her.  She'll even lick the good stuff off the kibble and leave the kibble behind.


Mornings are the worst.  I'll prepare her gourmet meal, put it in front of her and she will turn her nose up and look away.  She won't even acknowledge it, even with all the extra leftovers incentives thrown in for added flavor.  She just gives me this look like, "Really?  Dog food AGAIN?  I think not."  I even bought one of those whole roasted chickens from the supermarket, picked and shredded all the meat to add to her kibble and she won't eat it.  If I put the chicken on a separate plate, she'll eat that but the chicken with the kibble?  She's not falling for it.  I end up having to toss her food in the trash because by the time I've waved the white flag in surrender to her stubborn attitude, her food has gotten all soggy and disgusting and I don't blame her for not wanting to eat it.


I know when an animal stops eating, it's a sign the end is near.  That's not Lucy's problem.  She'll eat just fine.  She just won't eat her highly expensive Hill's Prescription WD kibble any more.

At her advanced age (11 years), I figure that weight management is not quite as important as getting food into her stomach so that she can get her injection of insulin.  Her vet said that as long as she eats SOMETHING, it's good even if it's not her prescribed diet.  


So, if anyone has any tips on how to get a picky eater dog to eat, I'm all ears.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and shred some leftovers in the hopes of tempting her to eat.

Giftwrapped with love

I was going to write about something completely different, which can wait until tomorrow or whenever I have a chance to post again because I'm such a busy person as I pointed out a couple of posts ago after which Thing 2 noticed that I wrote Tiger WILLIAMS instead of Tiger WOODS and nobody else caught it or cared enough to point out the difference between one of hockey's greatest fighters and golf's biggest fuckup but instead I'm going to write about what I found when I woke up this morning and yes, I do love me a long, run-on sentence.

After a night where I got very little sleep on account of I'm suffering TERRIBLY from a good ol' fashioned head cold/sinus infection which caused me to toss and turn all night long, dozing off for short periods of time before once again waking up and flopping on to my other side, I finally realized that I would not be sleeping past 7:00AM (on a Sunday, where one is required to sleep late) so I roll out of bed and head to the front door so I can go outside and get my Sunday paper off the front walk.

When I open the front door, I find out that getting the paper off the front walk might be a little difficult.  Why, you ask?  Well, see for yourself:

I stood there a moment surveying the scene and then like any good blogger who is always on the lookout for blog fodder, I turn and grab my BlackBerry to take photos.

I duck under the toilet paper "gate" and head down the walk to a) get my paper, the Long Beach Blab Press Telegram and to see if there's any damage to the Red Rocket because the last time we were toilet papered, Thing 1's friends toilet papered the Red Rocket as seen here

only THIS time, the Rocket was not toilet papered; it was wrapped in plastic wrap, just like a leftover:

 I'm laughing pretty hard by this time and then my neighbor comes home in his pretty new 2010 Camaro and he sees me standing there in my robe and laughing and then he gets out of his car and starts laughing and we both say, "Kids!" and I take a few more photos to record this lovely tribute for posterity

and

and then I realize that the toilet paper is all wet and soggy and cleaning it up is going to be a real bitch.  I texted Thing 1's best friend and included a photo and asked if he knew anything about this and he claimed ignorance.  Of course.


Sadly, the intended recipient isn't even here to clean it up appreciate it because he is making his debut for Blais Racing Services at Round 1 of the Kenda National Hare & Hound Series on his new KTM 250.  Unless his knee is still too messed up to race and then instead of racing, he'll wear his pretty new personalized pit shirt and be pit bitch for his teammate.  I guess I'll find out which was the case when the menfolk return tonight.


Ok, off to take some pharmaceuticals.