Chelsea’s Totally 80s 30th Birthday Bash was a success, I’d say. We expected more people, but we had enough to fill up all four of the tables we had allotted for the event and even had to pull out a fifth one.
Chelsea and I were a little concerned when it was nearly two o’clock and the first people to arrive were her friend from Oklahoma and his parents. What made it even more uncomfortable or embarrassing and a little unnerving was when her friend’s dad looked around the huge, vacant, decorated fellowship hall and then glanced down at his watch.
Honestly, I had hoped for more of our church family to attend, and three of them had planned to attend, but one of them was visiting her daughter in the hospital and helping her to get moved into a nursing home, one of them was sick, and one of them’s daughter was rushed by ambulance for an emergency appendectomy.
People started shuffling in at 2:00, though, and I had everyone grab a cup of Kool-Aid or water and have a seat. The pastor still hadn’t arrived and he was supposed to kick us off with a devotion and a prayer. (Saturday happened to be our pastor’s wife’s birthday.)
We had reserved one table for the snacks and barely had enough room. At Chelsea’s request, I brought meatballs, and my sister brought Oreo balls and her famous (to Cameron and, no doubt, many others) nacho dip. There were many other great snacks there, including my sister-in-law’s pumpernickel bread with the center hollowed out and ranch dip placed there for dipping.
We had no idea how many to expect, and Chelsea over-planned with the cake and cupcake situation. She ordered a big double cake, half-white and half-chocolate, and fifty cupcakes. After she insisted that some of the party guests take some home with them, we still had a couple of dozen to leave for Sunday school the next day.
We had a bunch of cake left, too, and it has taken up residence on our dining room table. Needless to say we have all eaten too much cake since Saturday. My resolve has dissolved. Yes, someone left my resolve out in the rain. I don’t think that I can take it ’cause it took so long to wake it, and I’ll never have that recipe again. What am I talking about? Of course I’ll have that recipe again. It’s called three hours later and getting back on track and dragging my book out again if I must. All pity parties stop here. I have to be stronger than the cake.
After I did my mile on the treadmill last night, I was certain I would be able to wake up and start fresh with my normal Ezekiel toast and fat-stripping frappa. Only, when I woke up, I walked past Chelsea’s room and asked her if she wanted me to bring her a piece of cake. “Sure!” she called out. Sigh. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t pass up a getting a piece for myself, too.
I told her today that the sooner it is gone, the better. No one makes icing like Barbara Wilson, our church cake lady. I could eat it by the vat-full. Remember me, the sugar addict? (We have lots of candy left over from the candy bar, but I’m not even tempted. I can do without M&Ms and Reese’s Pieces and Skittles. Every once in a while I will have a Ring Pop. Those are off-plan, I know, but Hungry Girl said once that suckers are good to take to the movies because they are low in calories and take a long time to eat. Do you know how many handfuls of M&Ms and Reese’s Pieces you can go through in amazingly little time? Mindless, mindless eating, especially when you’re engrossed in a movie and are hardly aware of what you’re doing.)
The games had been fun to put together, but I wonder if all of them may have been a little too hard. The 80s Trivia game may have been the easiest, and it’s the one that I had just gotten off the Internet. The 1985 game I put together myself–from information I had gotten off the Internet. All the candy and decorations–even my earrings–were also gotten off the Internet. Even her friend, Brian, from Oklahoma, she had met on the Internet–or through a friend she had met on the Internet, which may be about the same thing. I guess you could say that Chelsea’s party was courtesy of the Internet.
I was sad that one of Chelsea’s nurse friends couldn’t make it and a couple of other friends had things come up and couldn’t make it, either, but, as I said, all our tables were full, so it was a nice gathering.
I didn’t get my treadmill in that day, but I came home pooped just the same. My back and feet hurt from being on my feet all day and carrying box after box after box out to the car and van afterward. I don’t even know how long it would have taken me or how I would have survived had a few friends not stayed to help take decorations down, wipe down tables, wash dishes, etc.
I had only taken a very small sampling of food on my snack plate at the party. I made sure to get one of my sister’s Oreo balls and a tablespoon of her nacho dip with about three tortilla chips. An older couple from our church brought in some interesting wafer cookies that looked just like waffle cones, so I got one of those, too. I tried one or two of my meatballs and got a small slice of Gouda cheese. I’m not sure I’d ever had it before. It was good-uh. See what I did there?
My sweet hubby worked hard afterward, too, sweeping and mopping the kitchen and fellowship hall.
I hate to say it, but I was dreading the party. I knew it would be fun, but I was nervous about it, too, hoping it would all fall in place and knowing how much work would be involved getting the fellowship hall back into shape when it was over and everything carried back to the car. Thankfully I’m in the best shape of my life, and it was not as physically demanding as it would have been at any other time of my life.
As happens sometimes after a holiday or at least during the summer (for me) kind of a mild depression has settled in. I felt it yesterday, not wanting to get on my treadmill, eating too much cake, etc., but more acutely today with Chuck at work.
I did do my treadmill before taking an afternoon nap, but I haven’t wanted to do anything else, other than a load of dishes, and eat more cake–which is part of my depression, I just know it! I want to get back to my “normal” THM way of eating. I didn’t work this hard to be where I am to be derailed by cake. I can either continue to be disappointed in myself and depressed or I can do something about it.
Even though I blew my breakfast and my afternoon snack, I did have my usual healthful salad for lunch. Tonight will be a heavy S meal with chicken alfredo and steamed broccoli. At this point, I can’t even think about tomorrow. Hopefully, Cameron will come back by a couple more times for cake, and, of course, Chuck and Chelsea will eat more. Cake, be gone!
Another part of my depression is probably just the summertime blues. I get them every year. As summer school comes to a close, or, really, even in May, I start getting excited about school’s being out and being able to sleep in every day if I want. Then when the opportunity gets here, it’s “Blah, another day of sleeping in, not getting dressed until two, nowhere to go, no one to see, nothing to do.”
Unfortunately Chuck has to work again tomorrow, but he’ll be home on Wednesday and Thursday and I’ll probably feel better then. Maybe we can even go somewhere. Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot: Chelsea has a followup with Dr. James on Thursday, so I guess Thursday is our day to shop if we want to at Costco or Sam’s Club or wherever. Basically it will be a day to get out of the house and spend in the bustling city.
Chelsea didn’t wear her wound vac to her party. The nurse was coming the next day, and the vac wouldn’t have stayed anyway. For the better part of two whole days not an ounce of urine was caught in her Foley bag. That meant she was sitting in constant wetness. We went through bedding like crazy. There is positively no way the wound vac will withstand such an environment. The nurse had said there was nothing she could do about it. Chelsea wasn’t due for a bag change for another couple of weeks, and Medicaid doesn’t like to pay for procedures or services in between their scheduled times.
When Susan arrived early Sunday morning, Chelsea greeted her at the door with, “We have decided we are not going to have the wound vac put back on until I get a new catheter because it is pointless.”
Susan responded, “Well, I brought a new kit with me.” Yay, great news!
Since the nurse had brought a new catheter, Chelsea had planned to go to church yesterday, but, after she got out of bed and into her chair, the wound vac started rumbling more than usual. She thought that would be an embarrassing distraction in church and was having second thoughts. Then a solitary beep sounded. I hadn’t heard it because I was in the bathroom, applying my lip liner. Chelsea came into the hallway and said, “I don’t know what that was all about, but I just heard a single beep.”
I lifted the velcro flap of the wound vac pouch and looked at the screen. “Low pressure” it said. The reading was at zero, and it was supposed to be at 150.
Back to Chelsea’s bedroom we went. She got back in bed and rolled to her side. For the life of me, I couldn’t find a leak anywhere. Over at the edge of the draping, it had rolled up a little, but, as far as I could tell, certainly not enough to create a leak. For the most part, everything was completely flush and secure.
We didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to church with the vac not working, but the nurse had just been there an hour and a half ago! I didn’t want to unpack the wound and take the vac off so soon! And what in the world did “low pressure” mean? We had gotten many alerts: “low battery,” “canister full,” “leak alarm,” but “low pressure”? How does one get low pressure without a leak?
We had no other recall than to call Susan. Susan started asking her to check this and that and then said, “Well, you know what? I’m only ten minutes away. I’ll be right there.” After checking the wound, as I had done, and not being able to find a leak anywhere, she took the wound vac out of the bag and discovered that the canister was almost full. Okay, then why didn’t it say “canister full”? Next time we’ll know what “low pressure” means. Susan snapped on a new canister and instantly we were back up to 150. Chelsea had already transferred a couple of times, though, and didn’t want to scoot on her dressing again and risk its coming undone. Plus, by then, we had no time to spare: it was time for Chuck and I to leave for church, so she stayed in bed all day yesterday and didn’t venture out to church.
Today has been a repeat of yesterday. Her bedding has stayed dry all through yesterday, last night and today–hallelujah–and the wound vac is still chugging away, nice and strong, but she has not chanced getting out of bed. Tomorrow a different wound nurse will be here, and then on Thursday she has her wound clinic appointment. Staying in bed gets old fast, I know. I can’t even imagine it.
I know I promised you party pictures, but I was so busy at the party that the only pictures I even thought to take were in the salon before and the cake and cupcakes and candy bar before the party. I didn’t even think to start the Rubik cube challenge or randomly select judges for the best costume (because no one was showing up on time), so this is all I got. Chelsea did get some with her camera phone, but some were blurry. This first one is of Chelsea at her desk at the salon where she answers the phone and keeps the appointment book (and apparently pre-pays her mom’s hair appointment! I started to get out my checkbook and April said, “It has already been paid.” What a sweet daughter I have!).
For whatever reason, God sent us exactly the people we were supposed to have for our party. I was happy Chelsea’s friend from Oklahoma was able to drive all that way to be with her, and I was happy to see one of my brothers, my sister-in-law, my sister, her kids and her boyfriend, one of Chuck’s sisters, and our niece (and neighbor and Chelsea’s favorite cousin) from across the street.
I’m sorry to have fallen down on blog updates, but, as always, I appreciate your support–and every single note you leave! No stats to report today. Just surviving and existing, hoping to jump back on plan soon. Take care, my friends!
Our party hair! Chelsea had the Big Hair of the 80s, and I had the pop rock hair, spiky on top with some temporary pink and blue highlights.
Notice the bowl full of slap bracelets! Those were big in the 80s, too! We put them there so everyone could go pick one out to match their outfits.
Chelsea snapped a photo of me in the church kitchen, preparing for the party. I will post some of the pictures she took with her phone following this one.