Seven days, five bypasses, and approximately 23 galloons of dog poo later, and Dad is out of the hospital! He's home, and doing well, especially considering the nature of his surgery. He went in for triple bypass surgery, but the surgeon found two more bloackges during the surgery, turning his triple bypass turned into a quintuple bypass. Did you know that could be done? Because I surely didn't until the tired, sweaty surgeon came out to tell us how the surgery had gone. Dad is recovering wonderfully, but he can't do any farmwork for at least two months, and I know it is already driving him crazy. Dan and I are going to the farm for a weekend soon to help with the chores that are piling up. I'm so glad he's home; seeing him hooked up to so many tubes and needles was one of the hardest things I've ever seen. Though I knew it was going to be hard, I wasn't prepared enough to see him unconscious with a breathing tube the first day. All my mom and I could do was blink back our tears and take turns holding his hand and talking to him, letting him know that we were there and that he was going to be ok. I hope I never have to go through that again, not just because I don't want any of my loved ones in that position, but because putting 200% of your energy, time, and self into someone else when all you really want to do is crawl into their arms and cry is the most exhausting thing I've endured. But if the occasion called for it, I wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Having us there helped my dad's immediate recovery so much that I'd never be able to deny someone my presence if it would help them like that.
In non-parental news, I've been home since Tuesday night and haven't really stopped working since; catching up on missed chores, working overly-long hours at work, etc. I'm collapsing this weekend and treating myself to a whole day of fun and relaxation.
Also, Emily tagged me for a meme, so let the memming begin!
Accent: Nondescript, nonspecific, generic American accent. I live too far south in Florida to be part of the South, so I was spared that. However, I do start talking strangely when I visit my parents. As in, I caught myself saying "That sure ain't like the taste of sugar!" And I cringed, slapped myself, and vowed to return to civilization as quickly as possible.
Booze of Choice: Usually something fruity with a kick. Or Alien Secretions, a drink Dan made up. Even proportions of Malibu, Midori, Triplesec, and a splash of sour mix. FANTASTIC shot. Try it sometime.
Chore I Hate: I HATE LAUNDRY. I'll clean the toilet any day, just don't make me haul basket after basket of laundry to the washer! PLEASE!
Dog or Cat: No pets in Dan and I's apartment, but the animals at my parents' farm are partially my pets, and there we have 8 cats, 6 dogs, 1 immortal rabbit (seriously, it's 11 or 12 years old now. DIE ALREADY!), a couple of birds, and several fish tanks.
Essential electronics: My Precioussss... aka my PowerBook. I love it.
Favorite perfume: I don't wear perfume, but I use sweet pea and violet shower gel and that does the trick.
Gold or silver: Silver. I think gold looks weird on people with my complexion.
Hometown: Miami, Florida
Insomnia: A bit when the seasons change, but that usually doesn't last too long because I am NOT a nice person when I don't get my 7-8 hours.
Job title: Assistant Editor, Latin America. How exotic sounding.
Kids: Maybe one day, but not for sure and certainly not anytime soon.
Living arrangements: I rent an apartment with my boyfriend, Dan.
Most admired trait: I admire people who embrace change. I'm not exactly one of them.
Number of sexual partners: Just one. And yes, he's Dan. Some people have encouraged me to branch out, experiment with other guys, etc., but I'm just not interested. The same people tell me that I need some basis for comparison, and, honestly, I don't. Dan certainly keeps me satisfied, and is an incredible guy in other ways, too. Why the need to keep looking? Whatever, I just don't get some people. Why ruin a wonderful relationship just to sleep around? Makes no sense. I'm not that kind of girl anyway.
Overnight hospital stays: Only after birth, which is amazing given my record for clumsiness.
Phobia: Failure. Change. Loneliness. Grasshoppers. The usual.
Quote: "I hate quotes." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson~
Religion: I used to go to church regularly, but now I'm rather agnostic-ish.
Siblings: Three older sisters.
Time(s) I wake up: Anywhere from 5:30 to 7:15 on weekdays, depending on when I have to be into work, and usually 8ish on weekends unless I've been up until 4 am or something. Sometimes even then, and then I'm NOT a happy Cathy.
Unusual talent/skill: I can read Old English nearly fluently. And I mean OLD English, the kind that looks like a completely foreign language. Where "garden" is "neorxnawanga"
Vegetable I refuse to eat: Radishes. Total ew.
Worst habit: How to choose? I worry too much. I detest change and adapt badly.
X-rays: Dental and my arm, when I broke it at age 7.
Yummiest food I make: A pasta dish I learned to make in Italy... Rigatoni with zucchini, mushrooms, and fresh garlic, all mixed together with a creamy white sauce on top. YUM-MY.
Zodiac sign: Capricorn or Dog, depending on which calendar you're talking about.