Sunday, December 28, 2008

Thanksgiving with the Rock Clan.....

(Fat Rock note: Yes, I know this is late. Bite me)

Ah, the holidays. Time to pause and give thanks for the bounty that God has bestowed upon us. Time to reflect on our lives and be gratefull. Time to spend an entire extended weekend with people you would normally do anything to avoid. Not that all my family is odd. There's lots of cool people in there. It's just that....only the wierdos show up consistently to holiday gatherings. The cousin that's a PR exec that's funny and is happily married to a super guy? Yeah, I haven't seen her in years. The Uncle who is rarely employed, been married four times and is so poor he won't fix one of his broken teeth fixed and instead opts never to smile? Yeah, he's there every time I'm there. Insane aunt who's in her 60s and recently got a tatoo of her favorite NFL team ON HER ASS and wants to show it off to the family? She's there all the time. Aunt who is really nice, has two cats and two wonderfull kids and the friendly and earnest husband, hardly ever there. See what I'm getting at? Well, this is what I brought my wife into for Thanksgiving. Her family is pretty small, with very few extended relatives. I have 13 cousins, numerous aunts and uncles, and about 6 2nd cousins. Add to that several ex-husbands, illegitamate children, and "new" Signifiacnt Others and you have quite a stew.

My wife spent the entire time saying "..uh.....WHO are you again?...." and trying to make small talk all week. For those of you who don't know the Lemur Queen, she hates small talk. Oh, and one of the cousins had a baby. This would make my grandmother a great-great-grandmother. Now, due to the size of the family, I am certainly NOT the first grandson to get married, but in the family I am the only son/child of my father, so I am exepected to reproduce. So the question was posed to my wife many times......when are you two going to have a baby?

Lemur Queen does not like that line of questioning. We have discussed children. We will be having them. But we were married less than a year ago and live in a small apartment. We need to get a house. THEN baby. But before we get a baby, we're going to get a parrot. Probably an African Red-Belly Parrot. They are not as loud as other parrots, and can talk and play. Also, they should live around 25 years. I figure they'd be great training for a kid. I'd have to spend time with it, train it, and not cuss around it or it will learn the bad words. Just like kids right? And if I can't kill a parrot, I won't kill a baby. This line of logic is Lemur Queen approved.

Fat Rock.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

I hate everyone

Yes everyone. Even you. Everyone except for Fat Rock. He cooks for me and gives me back rubs.

Yeah, so work's been crazy the last two weeks. Everyone is trying to get in before the new year, AKA when their decuctable starts anew. These same people are also in the "doughnut hole" of Medicare part D, and are paying for their medications out of pocket. This makes them RABID for free samples.

Fun

But not as fun as today's patient. Let me set the scene: a young female, Jabba-huge. I've seen her before, and she is definately......slow. This makes obtaining a decent history a long and painful process. Throughout the interview process I found out:


1) She haden't taken her insulin in a week, for no partcular reason.

This was extra bad because of

2) she had been taking Prednisone because "it made her legs feel better" She doesn't know the dose. She got it from, someone, I'm not sure who. It may not have actually BEEN Prednisone. It may have been magic beans she got in exchange for her insulin. Of course it's an A #1 BAD IDEA to take other people's medications, but espically Prednisone. You can't just stop it all at once, unless Adrenal Crisis sounds like fun. (Note: It's not fun.) Oh, it jacks up your blood sugar too.


*Fat Rock note: Prednisone is a corticosteroid used to treat a variety of inflamatory conditions. It is usually dosed in a taper, as in big doses leading to smaller doses leading to none. Just taking a handfull is an extremely bad idea. I love my wife*


which brings us to:

3) checked sugar in the office. 375 (normal is 70-120) Give patient 10 units of insulin. One hour later sugar is 425. THE HELL!?!? 15 MORE units of insulin, ANOTHER hour later, blood sugar 330. Good enough. Whils't waiting for the insulin to do its magic:

4) she had an accident.

It's days like these I wonder why I ever left the lab. Sure it was soul crushing work, with terrible hours. But I was never peed on. Well, almost never. The mice do get nervous.

Merry Freaking Christmas

Lemur Queen

Thursday, December 18, 2008

An Ode of Praise.

As I was in Food Kitty yesterday, I happened on a near miracle. "But what was it, Fat Rock?" you ask. An act of unselfishness? A story of bravery? A really really fat guy with a hot chick? (Well, besides me and Lemur Queen)

NO! None of the above. What I heard first was actually a loud burst of yelling. "I don't believe this! This is BULL!" Then I heard a low mumble that sounded like "Sorry, I'm not doing that", and then I saw a woman with a big ass cart FULL of groceries wheel angrily out of a checkout lane. As I walked by with my purchase (candy bar and a diet coke. Yes, a diet coke, although I don't know why I even bother. I mean, I'm buying a freaking candy bar, and it's not like they cancel each other out.......) I saw that the same lane was open, with a SMILING cashier staffing it. I walk up, and set my items on the belt. It's at that second I realize that I'm in an express lane, with the cutesy and often ignored "12 items or fewer" signs. Well, this cashier COUNTS! And if you have more than 12, you are kicked out of the line! A-FREAKING-MAZING!!

Tanya was her name. And upholding the sacred trust of Food Lion was her game. I was astounded. I had never seen anything like it in my life. Haven't you been behind those jerks at Wal-Mart who stand there in the express lane with a full cart and then squable with the cashier and hold up the line. Also, I hate the mexicans that pretend not to know english and push two full carts down your lane when you work at K-mart and are yelling "hey you! you can't use this line!". But this cashier actually followed that rules! I was so impressed. It's a miracle!


Fat Rock.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Christmas Whimseys....

Hello all. Fat Rock, back again. I was pretty pleased when I snagged my wife, the Lemur Queen. She's a gem. One of the many reasons I love her is that she doesn't take for freaking ever to pick out a Christmas Tree. When I was growing up, my mother Barbie would spend HOURS dragging my father and I from lot to lot to look at frickin' trees. It got to the point where the tree sellers at the local farmer's market would recognize my dad and point out all the new tress they had brought in for the day. But buying the tree was ony half the pain. THEN we had to get it home, and my mother would come out with a tape measure and delineate exactly how many inches we were allowed to cut the lower branches off. Then we would cut exactly 1and 1/4" off the bottom to allow the tree to suck up the special water my mother had prepared.


THEN we would take the tree inside, and prop up the tree and move it around the room to the spot my mother wanted. Once we had the spot picked out, we would rotate the tree in the base(not tightened, of course) untill the "least bald" side was facing out. Then we would tighten the screws, and begin to maneuver the tree to the appropriate angle. And then we would often repeat the process as mom changed her mind several times. All this took several hours. And we haven't even started decorating the tree.


Oh, and a word on my mom's secret tree formula:


6 cups of unfiltered water
3/4 cups sugar
10 grains (650mg) of aspirin.
1 teaspoon sea salt
Optional: 1 to 2 pellets of Miracle Grow (use only after tree has been in house for a week)

And she would make this up OFTEN and pour it into the tree base.

So last year, I was working at a hospital, and didn't have time to get a Christmas Tree with the Lemur Queen so I sent my beloved father, Major Rock, to assist her. We were expecting a death march like what my mom does, but boy were we surprised! She took 10 minutes to find a tree. Lemur Queen had basically three requirements for a Christmas Tree:

1. Green
2. Tree Shaped
3. Not too tall for the apartment.

And Boom, Major and Queen had a tree. Then they brought it home. "How much to cut off?" says Dad. "Whatever you think is appropriate", she says. Dad has the tree up in less than 10 minutes. My future wife compliments the job dad did, and talks about how nice the tree looks.

Fast forward one year.

Lemur Queen and I are standing in the tree lot that a buddy from work has a stake in. What kind of tree do you want honey? Her reply:

1. Green
2. Tree Shaped
3. Not too tall for the apartment
4. Doesn't cost too much.
We have a tree in 5 minutes. We get the tree home. I trim the bottom branches off and the bottom of the tree is cut whatever way I jolly well chosse, because she doesn't have an opinion on it. At this point I'm falling in love all over again. Then we move the tree into position. Fine, tighten the screws on the base. Fine. Straighten the tree. Fine. "Tree looks good honey" From the way she was standing, it did look good.:

She was happy. I was happy. I went into the kitchen to make holiday Rum and Cokes. Then I saw the tree from the side:

Yowsa. We're going to need a LOT of Rum and Cokes before that starts looking straight. Well, my wife has a solution. She digs down into the big delicious brain of hers and remembers something from our preparation for marriage
Yep. We shoved our "Dummies" book under there. I mean, WE wouldn't use it. Right? Who's crazy enough to have a SECOND freaking wedding? I mean, the first one was frazzling enough, but could you imagine getting all those relatives together again? *shudder* So anyways, Lemur Queen held the tree, and I shoved it under the base. We really liked the result:



By the way, this holiday is being made bearable by Gosling's Rum

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Fat Rock Holidays

Ok, Lemur Queen's turn.


Thanksgiving with the Fat Rock clan. I come from a small family. Most holidays are just Frank, Marie, Robert, and myself. We may be loud, we may be annoying, but it's safe, predictable, and calm. Well, as calm as the Queen Family gets. No cousins, no aged grandparents, no long car trips.

Then I married Fat Rock.

I should have known it was coming. At our wedding, we had 50 guests. 25+ were Fat Rock family members, 5 of my guests were family members. They are kind, welcoming people, but there are SO MANY of them. Uncles, cousins, grandparents, and various hangers on. And they are POLITE. What's their angle? I can interact with people on a professional level, which is a little cold for family, or I can interact as we do in the Queen household. At volume 11, speaking in insults and rude jokes. I have a feeling that this is equally inappropriate.

Back to Thanksgiving. Fat Rock's family lives in northern Florida, in a small resort town. We would be sleeping at the grandparents. So far, so good. I'm quiet and polite, and think that I can keep it up for another 3 days. Thanksgiving dawns, and we head out to the Turkey Trot. Yep, a Holiday is no reason to miss out on a 5k. One of the numerous cousins is also running the race, and I am pleased to announce I kicked her ass. Than it was off to find coffee.

You see, Fat Rock's grandparents are older (of course), and not in the best of health. This makes entertaining difficult, but as they are fine southern folk, they want to be good hosts. So for us, this means crappy coffee. I NEED coffee, it is part of my DNA, my rason d'etre, my only means of waking in the morning. We couldn't bring coffee in the house, as we may hurt grandparent feelings. So there we were 9:00 Thanksgiving morning, driving through a mostly-deserted beach town, desperately looking for a Starbucks.

"Don't they have coffee in this God-forsaken town?" Apparently not. I guess vacationers just drink all day, and sleep off the caffeine headaches on the beach. Finally we find a Starbucks, and pound down that lovely nectar. Thus re-energized, it's back to the house to prepare for the BIG event.

Thanksgiving dinner. With 20 people. And they watch football. And don't drink. Holy crap. I am doomed. I spy cousin and cousin's wife, and their new baby. Relief, that will take the pressure off. Oh no, now everyone is asking ME when we'll have a child. Briefly, I toy with the idea of saying "actually....." and patting my stomach, but decide that is a class A BAD IDEA.

Time for dinner. On the menu: Turkey, Ham (yuck), Shrimp (double yuck), Okra (ugh), Mashed Potatoes (yay!) Corn (yum, carbs!) Salad (good) Gravy (ok, or so I thought) Stuffing (ok #2 or so I thought) A little different than the Lemur Queen house, but I'll manage.

Turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, veggies and salad. Hmm the dressing is thicker and chunkier than I'm used to. Oh well, I guess not everyone uses the canned Peppridge Farms gravy.

Then I find out the truth. GIBLETS. Freaking GIBLETS. Turkey parts. I won't even even eat chicken with bones. AND it had an egg. With the yolk and everything. shiver. Thank goodness I didn't find out about this atrocity until after dinner. And luckily, I didn't have any of the stuffing. Which contained sweetbreads. Which have have on good authority, are COW parts.

So we survived. One holiday down, one million to go. Christmas will be at the Queen household, so be on the lookout for Fat Rock's interpretation of the festivities.

Lemur Queen