...so much for Vegas!

Alright, I will put this vacation in the "worst ever" category!

The plane ride was uneventful; however, disembarking from the plane started the downhill slide. As I began to exit my seat, I felt this ungodly pain at the back of my leg. It literally knocked the breath out of me and forced me back down to the seat. There are 150 people trying to exit and I managed to get out of my seat and hobble down the aisle. It was very difficult to walk, but hey, I’m in Vegas and those machines are calling my name!

I got in a minimal amount of gambling, since I was stuck playing the slots in a small area since I couldn’t walk very well. The pain worsened and the swelling started. Lovely. By the next morning, my knee was badly swollen and Jim (God bless that patient man) talked me into going to the hospital. Vegas has about 20 hospitals and choosing the right one was a nightmare, so I picked St. Rose, a Catholic Hospital. They were wonderful! They didn’t even ask for insurance information until after I was treated and readying for release. Unheard of!

The bottom line was that I tore my calf muscle and emergency treatment included a cast from my toes to upper thigh. My instructions are rest, elevation, ice, and see an orthopedic surgeon as soon as possible when we return home. No bend in the cast at all, the leg just sits straight out. And crutches…gheez, I never realized how difficult it is to walk in crutches. It took them three tries to find the right ones, because of my height. I sort of shuffled out of the hospital and Jim pushed me into the back seat of the car. My pants wouldn’t fit over the cast, so I figured a stop at K-Mart for a skirt might be more practical. They put me in one of those automatic wheelchair things that you drive. Vic stayed with me while Jim filled my Px for painkillers. We didn’t do too badly, I only got caught in one rack of jackets and blouses and I didn’t bowl anyone over. Unfortunately, they only had maternity skirts and I ended up wearing the same black maternity skirt my entire visit. So much for careful mix and match packing! Back to the Casino.

Vic (God bless him too!) ran into the casino and signed his life away to get me a wheel chair. I also have a new respect for anyone in a wheel chair. Maneuvering the chair into the bathrooms is bizarre. Try holding the bathroom door open and wheeling, turning your chair toward the toilet. Gheez. Thank goodness for the ADA that provides wheelchair access. After I finally made it to the bathroom, trying to figure out how to get out of the chair and onto the toilet is a whole other experience. We won’t even go there, the visual description is beyond belief!

Vic or Jim would prop me up at a slot machine and stay within calling distance. They would check on me every few minutes and see if I wanted to move. It took Jim and me a few times to figure out maneuvering the wheel chair and it took me a whole day to figure out how to stand up from it. (Don’t try to use the crutches to stand, just put your hands on the armrests like getting out of regular chair…gheez….talk about an Abbott and Costello scene.) Oh, and don’t forget to use the brakes…the chair moves! It took us awhile to remember to use the brakes. It took Jim a time or two to remember that if he propped my leg up on a chair while we were eating, not to just pull the chair out when it was time to go. If I wasn’t laughing, I was crying!

Our casino had a monorail to another casino. However, it broke down on the return trip and we had to take the shuttle bus. Everyone, about 40 or so people, had to wait until the driver let down the automatic lift to get me into the bus. OK…got that done, but getting off was another story. The lift broke. There are another 40 or so people waiting to get ON the bus now, anxious to get to the other casino. After fiddling with the motor, straps, etc. for about 15 minutes, the only solution was for me to walk off the bus. Crutches, narrow aisle, steep steps, you get the picture. I was literally in tears as I disembarked, not from pain, but from humiliation at having to make everyone wait. I was crying, Jim kept telling me it wasn’t my fault and what the hell, we would never see these people again! What a great guy!

I did manage to learn to play craps when Vic’s friend, Bob, and his wife, Nikki, visited with us. We had a good time at dinner and afterward, Bob got me to a craps table. They accommodated me by getting me one of those tall stools and stuck me in the corner slot. He and I pooled our money and he showed me basic betting strategy. I’m still a little confused on all the different odds, but I would feel confident walking up to one and laying my own bets. I even know what the bet is behind the pass line and when to bet in multiples of six on the numbers six and eight. And, I actually understand, "one for fifteen"! We ended up playing about 90 minutes and actually came out ahead! ‘course, I lost it all on slots, but hey….it’s Vegas.

We finally made it home about 4:00 this morning, safe and sound, sort of. Jim is at Lowe’s now, trying to figure out something to get me into the tub so I can bathe and wash my hair. (I keep telling him this is the "and in sickness" part as well as the "for worse" part. He keeps telling me it’s only temporary and don’t get used to it!) The shower sounds much more appealing, but I’m not sure about all those steps to the basement. I’m thinking maybe he can just put me in a sled, I’ll push off and he can catch me at the bottom…we’ll see! Anyway, that’s our most recent Vegas experience, and the worst part….Elvis didn’t sing to me once!

...vegas, baby

Well, it is 2:45 and I'm up, showered, dressed and ready to fly. Our plane leaves at 6:25 am and we're in Vegas at 8:20am. Dad's in the shower....ooops, strike that, I just heard him blow his nose (gheez...I hope he didn't do that IN the shower!). We're meeting Grandpa's friends on Saturday and Bob, his friend, is supposed to give me the lowdown on craps this time 'round. Have to run, we're do over at Grandpa's at 3:15 and besides...I think I hear an Elvis machine calling my name!

...lunch on my day off

I had nine packages of Maruchan Ramen noodles left over from when I needed one package for a slaw recipe. Apparently, you just can’t buy one package of these noodle things. OK…I’ll try them. What a strange food product. After following directions, I had a bowl of soup-like substance filled with long curly pseudo-noodles. Well, how do you eat these things? I tried a spoon, no dice. They just kept sliding off. I opted for a fork, wrapping the noodle things around it, like spaghetti. However, invariably, there was always one or two that managed to dangle…about a foot long, I think. I ended up just slurping them up, ala Isabella way, and pondering the texture. I think I’ll crumble up the rest of the eight packages and throw them out for the squirrel. Ramen noodles are now on my "hate like liver" list.

Speaking of slurping, Lisa would be proud of her Dad. He made coffee come out of his nose the other day at breakfast. Ewwwww!

...ramblings at 4:00 AM

I just found this picture on the net after typing in "stupid pictures". I love it!

It is 4:00 AM and I have discovered that I need exactly seven hours of sleep. I crashed at 9:00 PM and awoke at 4:00. Last night, I went to bed at 11:00 PM and arose at exactly 6:00 AM. It was the same thing the night before. What happened to those days of going to bed at 3:00 AM and getting up at 7 AM for work? Apparently, your body’s rhythms are different at various times in your life. Actually, we probably need to listen more attentively to what it is telling us. At 21, before marriage and kids, I could hit the bars until 2 AM, make my way home in a stupor (gheez, was that stupid or what?), get up at 7 AM, work all day, nap for an hour after work and hit the scene again. I could cycle like that all week, sleep in until 2 PM on Saturday and Sunday and start again. I can only do that in Vegas now. Speaking of which, I’ll be there at the end of the month!

I’m in Catholic Chat right now, back and forth writing this. I keep getting IMs from Nigerian people wanting me to put good faith money in an account so that I can rake in millions. Do people actually fall for this? And if the Nigerians are so poor, why are they using computers and Internet access? There is also an in-room discussion on AI and if man creates AI, will God love the Artificial Intelligence. And a person called "afreakofmyown" just asked this question…."anywayz im telling u anywayz! who is encharge of making the rainbow? me and some friends keep saying it either the rainbow fish, rainbow monkeys, leperchauns, purple monkey/cats, or gay people!" Obviously, these people have nothing better to do than I do, at this hour.

There are a lot of Phillipinos on at this hour, speaking Tagalog, as well as Muslims posting in Arabic. I have no idea what they are saying. Probably just as well.

OK....out of here.