We have chosen to stay home for the bigly holiday feast next week. Suzanne is exhausted because she has been working her butt off at her office recently—working late even more than is her usual OCD work habit. And even though I am recovering well, I am in no shape to share a dinner table with any of the various bad germs that will surely accompany some of my friends and family at this time of year. I’m in no mood for any germs, no matter how much I love and appreciate the people o’ my life. TV dinner Thanksgiving Tie o’ the Day has given me an easy-peasy idea for next week’s holiday dinner: maybe I should keep it extremely simple, and just microwave a couple of frozen turkey dinners from the grocery store freezer. It would be an effortless, quiet change o’ pace. Of course, no matter what I finally plan to serve for our two-person Thanksgiving feast, I will most assuredly be making Mom’s traditional cheese bread in the traditional way. It is not advisable to cut corners on THE cheese bread, and it would not be a true T-giving without it. In fact, I should probably make two identical loaves of it, so we each have our own personal loaf. I wouldn’t want any knock-down, drag-out mayhem to occur over who got more of the precious cheese bread on a holiday which is meant to celebrate both gratitude and—apparently—gluttony. 🦃🧀🥖😜
I had to meet with my surgeon at Huntsman Cancer Hospital a few days ago for my post-surgery follow-up appointment. I chose to wear a bow tie-covered wood Bow Tie o’ the Day and my “Vaxxed And Masked For Your Protection” Facemask o’ the Day for my brief hospital visit. According to my doctor, I am still not allowed to lift more than 10 pounds for yet another month. Other than that, I passed my evaluation with neon flying colors. My scar is healing well, my pain is receding, and I didn’t lose an unhealthy amount of weight during my ordeal. I thanked my surgeon for her help and skill, and then I told her, “Don’t take it personally, but I hope I never in my life have to see you again!” She completely understood.
BTW Merry birthday to my nearly-elderly nephew, Travis. Even though he’s now a highfalutin’ Stake President, he still freely admits he loves me. As a birthday gift to him, today I will not tell any embarrassing anecdotes about his caped escapades as a child. But trust me—they were legendary. I even saw him fly (in his Batman cape) from the window of a moving $50 Rambler once. But—like I said—for his birthday, I won’t tell that story about him.
Thanksgiving turkey Tie o’ the Day is showing up to gobble at ya a couple of weeks early this year. My Cranky Hanky Panky surgery and subsequent recovery have been made more bearable due to so many people who have sent me their prayers, good vibes, comments, texts, cards, and care packages. I have known some of y’all most of my life. Some of y’all I hardly know at all. Taking your valuable time to reach out to me with your encouragement and concern is nothing short of you taking the time to love your neighbor—me— in the most meaningful of ways. I’m humbled and beyond grateful that so many of you consider me a neighbor-to-be-loved. Thank you, from the bottom of my turkey Tie o’ the Day.
I have spent most days in my pajamas since my surgery. I guess you could say pajamas are the designated, official uniform o’ My 2021 Pancreas Surgery Recovery. Likewise, this bandage tie is the official Tie o’ the Day o’ My 2021 Pancreas Surgery Recovery.
FYI Y’all are well aware of the padded section of bandages. Well, my bandage tie has padding in that spot too. It is thick and cushy.
Long-time readers of TIE O’ THE DAY might remember that I presented a few scar updates after my first surgery, three years ago. Over the past couple of weeks, I have had requests from some of these over-inquisitive souls to see the scar from my latest—and final, I hope—gutting. The horizontal scar on my belly is from my first operation, and it measures just over 5 inches. My newly acquired scarry, scarry incision runs vertically from my belly button to my sternum and measures in at a whopping 7 inches. Note: I definitely prefer getting tattoos over getting scars.
I have crossed all the to-do’s and honey-do’s off my pre-surgery list. The bookshelves are dusted and polished. I did the laundry, so I have clean underwear. Skitter’s sleep-crate water bottle is full to the brim. I made a meal list for Suzanne, so she won’t have to do any thinking about what to eat for dinner while I’m on hosp-cation (hospital + “vacation”) at Huntsman. This afternoon, I finally have time to sit on my butt for a wee bit. I’m wearing an argyle Tie o’ the Day and combing my teensy head hairs with my teensy comb. I’m feeling relaxed, for now. Tomorrow morning’s gutting will be here way too soon, and not nearly soon enough.
Wood John Lennon-style glasses Bow Tie o’ the Day accompanied me to my pre-surgery doctor appointment yesterday. My surgeon tells me she is confident that I will not be asked to re-schedule again, barring an earthquake or declaration of war in SLC. So, it’s official: I will be surgically gutted one week from today. I will be ever so glad to finally get it done, even though I never wanted to get it done in the first place. My dang stoopid Cranky Hanky Panky must be taught a lesson. I told my surgeon she has my permission to give my pancreas a good spanking when she opens me up and gets her hands on it. 👩⚕️💉
Here I am in my fake-pearl bulldogger Tie o’ the Day, after Skitter and I had spent the afternoon at the playground shown in the background. Skitter is a marvel on the slide, but she moves so quickly I can never capture her ballet-like descent in a photo. And so, all you get is another selfie of me and my bald head.
I finally got to give Mom her birthday hugs, a few days after her actual birthaversary. Mom loves sunflowers, and I was able to find a snazzy Shirt Full o’ Sunflowers to wear for her. It only made sense for me to wear my bees Face Mask o’ the Day with it. In honor of Mom’s fun belief that she is a witch with always-sharpened broom, I donned my flying witches Tie o’ the Day. Mom also liked my pig earrings and my chicken Sloggers shoes, which I chose just for her. She’s such a farm girl.
I managed to find a soft batch of marshmallow Circus Peanuts, which is one of Mom’s fave store-bought treats. We opted to stick a birthday candle in one, so we could sing to Mom. She blew it out like a pro, despite her oxygen difficulties. Of course, she’s had 91 years of practice at blowing out birthday candles.
Mom was more “with it” and energetic than she has been recently. Even Skitter noticed it. Suzanne and I had a wonderful few hours of conversation with the old dame. I was so pleased with Mom’s improvement, and I give credit to the fine cast o’ folks at Millard Care and Rehab. They look out for Mom like she’s family, and it shows.
I often say that Mom was my first blessing, and it is still true. My gratitude for having Mom runneth over—still and always.
Striped Bow Tie o’ the Day and I are aware that growing older can sometimes be jolting. More often than not, growing older means making a series of unanticipated small adjustments. Take closed captioning, for example. You know it’s a service that lives somewhere there in your television’s settings, but you never think about it. You go decades without ever contemplating turning the CC setting to ON. Think about how many televisions you’ve owned in your adult life, and then think about how many of them you turned on the CC for. I’m guessing most of you folks have never used that service. A few of you older ladies and gentlemen might admit that the CC on your current tv gets some use. I certainly never imagined I’d be using CC, but now I freely admit that I always have the CC setting on, and CC it’s on all 3 of our tv’s. It’s a godsend for me. But using it happened sort of by accident. And it’s just another thing in my life that is all Mom’s fault.
A few years ago, each time Mom would stay with us, we noticed we had to consistently crank up the tv volume in order for her to hear what was happening on screen. Adding to the noise pollution in the living room was the fact that Mom and I were always having a conversation over the tv sound. One evening Mom was sitting on the couch and Suzanne and I were siting on the love seat watching who-knows-what on the turned-way-up tv. Mom and I were loudly chatting/yelling up a storm about some relative or other, and I turned to say/yell something to Suzanne. OMGolly! Suzanne’s face was frozen by all the Mom/me/TV noise. She was pale and petrified. She was afraid to move. I quickly diagnosed her problem. I got really close to Suzanne’s ear and calmly said, “Run for the stairs. Go up to the bedroom and close the door. Don’t come down until Mom’s asleep and there is no noise except her snoring.” That’s when I knew something had to be done. Mom wouldn’t consider getting hearing aids. So I found the CC setting, and turned it to ON whenever Mom visited. I still had to yell slightly to talk to Mom, but I didn’t have to out-yell the too-loud tv, so Suzanne’s ears didn’t get injured enough to make her catatonic anymore.
As my own hearing sputtered with age, and after one of Mom’s later visits with us, I left the CC setting to ON for a week or so. I found I liked it. We’ve had it on for years now. Between my hearing aids and the closed captioning, the tv volume is able to be in a normal range. I tell you this long story of CC because—for some unknown reason—for the past two weeks, the CC on my tv is discombobulated on one of its lines. In between working properly, it gives basically the same wrong “translation” over and over, no matter what is said on the tv: “Hmm, 1 des0erate need.” It does it on every channel, no matter what I’m watching. At first, I thought, “Oh, goody! It’s a secret code for me to figure out.” Then it just got annoying.
And so I’m griping. I’m not griping about being old enough to find comfort in the joys of closed captioning. I’m griping that this service I never dreamed I would ever need is not working. I made the adjustment of letting myself come to count on it, and recently I can’t. It gives me a headache to go back and forth between the correctly captioned words and then the stoopid “Hmm, 1 des0erate need.” I’ve had to jack up the tv sound again. I’m sure it’s a temporary thing, and CC will be back to normal soon. But until then, every once in a while, I swear I can hear my own voice in my own head turn very crotchety and spoiled and dramatic, and say, “They need to fix this right this minute. Don’t they realize how many of us old farts depend on CC? This is not fair.” Yeah, cuz malfunctioning closed captioning is the bigliest problem in the whole wide world right now.📺🤓
