Blue-Footed Musings

We had our septic tank pumped this morning. Exciting, huh? But the best part is what my husband told me afterward. The septic guy says that I’m personally to be congratulated for keeping the septic tank so nice. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or sort of insulted by that until my husband explained that it’s all about the laundry. Laundry has a big affect on the system, and my refusal to use chlorine bleach and powdered detergent is part of why our system is so healthy. So yay for me, Queen of the Septic-Friendly Laundry.

I have been in the middle of a little depressive episode. This happens periodically and is nothing to be too concerned about. But it is important that I try to do things that make me feel better. Book shopping sometimes improves my mood, so I arranged to go to the library’s used-book store on Saturday morning.

I found a few books that wanted to come home with me.

• Hoot by Carl Hiaasen: It’s a Newbery Honor book, and I’ve heard good things about it.
• Fablehaven by Brandon Mull: It has a spooky cover, and the description on the back sounds interesting. Also, Orson Scott Card is quoted as having said, “Like Harry Potter, Fablehaven can be read aloud in a family with as much pleasure for grown-ups as for children….” That’s a strong endorsement.
• The Silver Pencil by Alice Dalgliesh: Both I and my friend Sprite were tempted by this Newbery Honor book when we saw a copy in the dungeon that doubles as the Putnam Public Library’s used-book nook. I did not yield to temptation that time, but I kept the book in mind. This time the copy was in pristine condition, so what the heck.

I tend to focus on the children’s/YA section when I’m at this store. That’s partly because of my reading tastes. But it’s also because the turnover rate is high in that section, so you never know what you might find there. Stuff in the other sections seems to sit and sit (which could be why the store is planning a “bag sale” for later this month).

But I’ve noticed that my donated items get put on the shelves immediately. So maybe it’s just that you have to be in the right place at the right time to get the new stuff. That’s why I try to give every section a quick look, even though I don’t get my hopes up.

This time I hit gold in the music section, which is good, because listening to music also tends to lift my mood. Someone (or someones) had donated a slew of interesting CDs. My husband likes Sufjan Stevens, so I snatched up those three CDs (and he was quite pleased when I brought them home to him!). I had been thinking about giving The Decemberists and Beck a try, so I was happy to find some CDs by each. The Decemberists collection was particularly good (The Hazards of Love, Picaresque, Her Majesty the Decemberists, Castaways and Cutouts, and The Tain). There were also some movie soundtracks (Twilight, New Moon, and Wayne’s World) that had songs by notable bands, so I bought those, too. When a CD costs $1.00, you only have to like one song to make the album worth the price. Plus the money goes to the library, which is a good cause, and if you don’t like the CDs, you just donate them right back the next time you go shopping.

Anyway, I’m listening to one of the albums from The Decemberists right now. I like it. And given that Amazon would charge me more for it than what I paid for all 13 CDs, I think I got an excellent deal!

On February 24th I had surgery to remove my gall bladder. The weeks leading up to it were not the cheeriest. Not only did I have the surgery looming, but I had to stick to a ridiculously low-fat diet to avoid more gall bladder attacks. I was trying to keep my meals to 5 grams of fat or less. To give you an idea of how difficult that is, consider that most sliced bread has a couple grams of fat per slice. An egg has 5 grams of fat. Ground turkey, the leanest of lean meat, has 8+ grams of fat per serving. Even vegetarian food was sometimes problematic. Many recipes start with two tablespoons of olive oil, which together contain nearly 30 grams of fat. And, as I discovered, even beans have fat in them.

So I was perpetually hungry. I was grouchy. And I was plagued by the idea that I had reached the end of my natural life. Science would save me, but then I would be living on borrowed time. If that idea had lit a fire under my ass and forced me to get moving on some of my life’s goals, then it could have been beneficial. But simply dwelling on the thought did me no good.

I have since tried to change my thinking about the surgery. I am looking at it as a tax that I had to pay to continue with life as usual. I’m used to paying taxes. They’re a nuisance, but they’re a normal part of life. You pay them and you move on.

As for the surgery itself, it went well. The admitting process was so quick that I had no time to fret. Before I knew it, I was in a bed and had sedative dripping into my IV. I barely had time to say good-bye to my husband before they wheeled me into the OR. My last memories are of faceless people arranging my arms and throwing blankets over me, and of a mask being placed near my face.

When I woke up, I felt horrible. Such a pain I had in my abdomen. The nurse gave me Tylenol, but it did nothing. Then she gave me Dilaudid, for which I am eternally grateful. That kept me pain-free for the entire afternoon and most of the evening, allowing me to get through all the obstacles that lay between the hospital and my comfy bed at home.

Sadly, though, the Dilaudid spoiled me. The combination of Advil and Vicodin that was prescribed to me wasn’t even enough to kill the headache that I got (most likely) from reading too much while I recuperated. I thought wistfully of the Dilaudid many times over the next few days.

But the pain didn’t last long. By the end of the week, I was pretty much back to normal. Now, nearly two weeks later, my incisions are almost healed and I’m feeling fine. I haven’t taken any pain meds in a couple of days. I almost returned to work a few days early, but the idea of sitting at my desk, compressing my abdomen for long hours, did not appeal. Monday will be soon enough.

Now I just have to hope that my body can adjust to the lack of a gall bladder. Most people are able to return to their former diets with ease. I am sincerely hoping to be part of the majority in this case!

Livia got some adorable tutus for Christmas. Of course she managed to get one of them terribly dirty almost immediately. The care label said that it needed to be hand-washed. Uh-oh! I don’t do hand-washing.

“Well,” I said to my husband. “If it can be hand-washed, it can be machine-washed.” He gave me a sort of confused look and said, “Isn’t it the other way around?” Yes. Certainly, if you can machine-wash something, you can hand-wash it, though why anyone would want to do that if they had a washing machine handy, I do not know. But what I meant is that “hand-wash only” can be interpreted to mean “you can get this wet and use detergent on it, but it’s delicate, so be careful.” So I take delicate, hand-wash items and turn them inside-out, put them in a mesh bag or (if very small) in a sock, and wash them on the gentle cycle. Then I hang them up to dry.

This works perfectly about 90% of the time. The other 10% of items come out of the washer looking a little worn. But I have never totally destroyed anything by putting it in the washer. So I say there’s no such thing as “hand-wash only.”

P.S. I have washed Livia’s tutus several times since and they still look brand-new.