My Milkshake Brings All The…Who Am I Kidding?


When wanting to bring all the boys or girls to the yard and your milkshake just isn’t cutting it, I have some sexy things that might help you get your groove on.  These are all brought to you courtesy of my new friend Prednisone.  These sexy little tidbits are sure to get the trailer rocking so don’t come a knocking.  I can’t imagine why I don’t have tons of knocks on my door right now…

  1. My new level of energy is sure to bring on hours of bed shaking moon rocking fun if I can keep winded long enough to walk to the bed that is.  It literally feels like I am humming on a different frequency than the rest of the population.  It is like the world is moving is slow motion to the beat of my own heart as it jumps around in my chest cavity.  I feel like I have enough energy to clean the world yet just don’t have the stamina to do so which might make having a little swinging from the ceiling difficult.  Since I can barely walk from the store to my car without having a coughing fit, I don’t think even shaving my girly parts is worth it right now.  However, I do feel the need to stay up all night watching soft girl on girl porn masquerading in the form of a show called The L Word.  Go figure.
  2. The new dance I have perfected on my front porch dressed in nothing but my cami top and panties is sure to bring the suitors  a running.  Why this new shimmy and shake?  I am standing out in the cold temps in nothing but my chonies to make the sweat on my body dry off and maybe make me cool down.  It is a nice new temperature that this drug is giving me.  One complete with these awesome sweats that I am sure could be mistaken for libido.  Go ahead…break out the ice.  I would LOVE that right about now.  Anything to bring down my core body temp that feels like I am living south of the equator in my own skin.  I am sure the neighbors are loving the half-naked fat girl trying to cool off dance at night.
  3. The amount of food that a Fat Girl can eat I am sure just tripled.  Want to get into my bedroom?  Bring me a pizza and a LARGE bag of Skittles.  And some Diet Mountain Dew.  And pie.  Don’t forget the pie.  There must always be pie.  And feel free to bring yourself something to eat as well.
  4. I might have crazy Mel Gibson eyes that you could mistake as love interest or my willingness to try some kinky stuff right now.  If I wasn’t so full of anxiety and humming at a different frequency and feel like I could start crying any minute over a commercial about tampons then I might be inclined to agree with you.  Don’t be fooled.  Pretty sure they are just crazy Mel Gibson eyes at this point.
  5. My inability to keep a train of thought is also a deterrent to any kind of action at the moment.  I am easily distracted so if you hang something sparkly in front of me I may be gone for a while determining where I can hide it.  And while I am gone, I might have started 20 new projects that won’t ever get finished so you might fall asleep before I come back to bed.  Just saying.

I can’t imagine why I don’t have love interests lined up around the block right now.  These side effects are just plain sexy I tell ya.  Excuse me while I go stand outside for a few minutes and attempt to wipe the sheen of sweat off my upper lip to cool off.  Yeah..my milkshake brings all…oh I am so kidding myself right now.

Oh yeah.  I didn’t die today.  I did discover how much fun it is to have these sexy side effects as I wanted to change my clothes several times and eat the entire Panda Express but I didn’t die.  I am fat girl shaking my half-naked fat girl booty on my porch at night and humming along at a different frequency while watching soft girl on girl porn masquerading as television running.  The experiment continues…

When Life Hands You A Tarantula….Shudder


Sometimes life hands you a curve ball and you stand there like wtf?  Sometimes it is a giant pile of poo that you can’t decide if you should wade through it or shovel it.  And even better is when life hands you a giant tarantula, putting your fear in overdrive and you stand there terrorized, not knowing what to do because you literally cannot think.  Even typing the word tarantula gives me the willies…they literally scare the poo out of me.  That is what happened to me this week…I even wish it had been a big pile of poo to wade through instead of a health crisis that was scary and really made me realize, as a nurse, that I need to stand up for myself better.

It all started out as a simple little cold.  I got the usual I work with snot nosed little children all day cold that most Peds/PICU nurses end up with once a season.  Being asthmatic, I did what I was supposed to do and started my inhaled steroids and using my inhaler on a regular basis so that I would not get an upper respiratory infection.  I lost my voice with this cold, probably because I immediately started coughing but I did not feel bad so I went to work.   Yeah I was a little snotty and coughing and had a squeak of voice, but I was determined to make it through the shift.  My co-workers were all concerned since I sounded like a Minnie Mouse cartoon, but I assured them I was fine.  As the night wore on, I could tell something was going horribly wrong. yet, I managed to put myself in our treatment room and give myself breathing treatments to keep going.  I met BFF for lunch halfway through the shift and realized I could barely do the simplest function…that of eat, talk and breathe at the same time.  She looked at me concerningly as I was obviously struggled and could not finish my lunch but again I assured her I was fine. Even though it felt like I was breathing through a straw and not a big fat McDonald’s straw, but more like a coffee stirrer straw.  Think that is easy smartass?  Then you go get a coffee stirrer straw and breathe through ONLY that and see how it feels.  Yeah, it pretty much sucks ass.  A few hours later, I went to the staffing meeting and made the decision I needed to go down to the ED when I could not walk and talk at the same time.  So downstairs I went.  The ED doc, at my own facility, treated me like I was a nuisance and basically told me there wasn’t much he could do for me but give me a different kind of breathing treatment and some narcotics to stop the coughing and send me home.  I was a little put off but agreed.

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Sexy breathing treatment in progress….

I asked the nurse to hold the narcotics for me though…I hate the way they make me feel and I needed to drive myself home. The breathing treatment was a combo of Albuterol (my normal inhaler) and Atrovent (a new medication for me) and actually made me breathe better. When the doc came back in, he was surprised I refused the narcotics and said “I guess you aren’t drug seeking then” to which I was floored.  What even makes you want to say that to me?  Do I look like a druggie to you?  Last I checked, I was NOT Nurse Jackie.  At that point I just wanted to get out of there.  I left the ED with a new prescription for the new inhaler and went home.

Here is where life handed me a tarantula.  I tucked myself into bed and started myself on a new medication regimen that included a new inhaler.  I thought a day of rest and I would feel better and at work.  Halfway through the next night I thought something was wrong.  I felt just plain weird.  Out of my body.  Of course I just thought maybe I needed more sleep.  I got up to get some water and noticed right away that it was hard to breathe and I was super dizzy.  My eyes also felt wrong.  I stumbled into the bathroom (and I do mean stumbled) to see that my eyes were swollen and red.  I struggled to get enough air to get back to bed to try to get to my phone.  I must have passed out upon reaching my bed and as I awoke later I struggled to get to the bathroom to pee.  I literally collapsed on my bathroom floor trying to get on the toilet.  I felt like a beached whale, laying there on the tile trying to decide if I could get back to my phone to call someone to help me or could I get on the toilet to pee.  I sure as hell didn’t want to call someone to come help me like 911 while I was covered in my own urine struggling to breathe.  That would be awesome.  Plus they would have to break into my house considering I sure as heck could not get to the door to let them in.  I managed to get my breathing under control and pee (in the toilet not on myself) and back to bed somehow.  I immediately stopped using the new inhaler as I felt like that was making my breathing worse for some reason and my eyes swell shut.  I texted Bubby and asked him to come over and help me take a shower as I was still super dizzy.  I just knew that something was wrong with me and could not put my finger on it. Bubby agreed there was something wrong.   He came over and with his Pocket GF, they changed my sheets, made sure I had movies, Gatorade, kleenex and everything else at my bedside that I might need.  Pocket GF even did some of her awesome dance moves for me.  They are super awesome and you guys should be jealous that you were not there to see them.  When my PICU Intensivist called me later and I asked about a possible allergic reaction to the inhaler, he immediately asked me “Do you have a peanut allergy?”  YES.  YES I DO.  WTH?  Apparently Atrovent is contraindicated in people with peanut allergies and the ED doc should have known this.  I followed what our PICU doc told me to do to help the allergic reaction and sat there in my bed and got mad.  Why would the ED doc, with my chart in his hand, allergies written all over it, prescribe me such a medication?  I could have DIED from this medication considering I have an ANAPHYLACTIC reaction to peanuts.  Thank goodness I didn’t but the repercussions of this allergic reaction have NOW caused me to go on oral steroids and eye drops for the inflammation.  Stuff that didn’t need to happen if he had taken the time to LOOK at my chart.  I am beyond furious.  That doc needs a swift kick in the taint.  Seriously.  Or maybe he need his car filled with tarantulas so he can feel the fear I felt as I almost peed myself on my bathroom floor because I could not breathe.

Oh yeah I DIDN’T die today.  I probably almost could have from the new medication that I did not ask enough questions about even as a nurse but I didn’t die.  I am fat girl who now will stand up for herself and put a load of tarantulas in that doc’s car as long as I don’t have to touch them at all (shudder) running.  The experiment continues….