Monday, October 17, 2011

London Diary, Day One: Burnie McStuffy McPainie McPeesalot

Deb: I sent a private email to Barb and three other dear friends today about the glamourous saga of my take off and arrival in London. Barb dared to ask if I would do it as my first post. I have accepted the challenge. Please do not feel jealous of the jetset glamour and whirlwind adventures I am privy to. I cannot help it if my life is just that damn sweet and privileged.

It started two days before I left when I woke up with huge shooting pain in my lower back and a deaf ear. The ear was a result of wax buildup which I have developed since age 50. The fact that I poured cooking oil into it to soften it for my doctor to flush out didn’t help. As it turns out, there was so much wax the oil got trapped behind it and rendered me deaf. Not to mention the fact that I used (who knew) my husband’s expensive extra virgin olive oil.  I mean, who among us would not want to grab a little of the extra virgin, so long gone?! So my doctor flushed the wax out and, because of that fine expensive oil, the wax shot out, right past the medical robe and the metal ear bowl and onto my new pants. My doctor’s humourous response was, “At least it was YOUR wax.” She’s right. Thank heaven for small favours.

When I got home after the flushing I really had to pee and I went to the powder room and felt not relief, but searing burning pain. Phoned the doctor I had just left who told me (given that I was leaving the country) to come back up right away. The result as I suspected was a urinary tract infection, the first bout of which I had just had in August. The explanation for this reoccurrence had everything to do with my aging body parts and that darling of the female set: post-menopause. So she put me on Sulfa again, which when I took it in August made me gag and wretch. HORSE PILLS, I TELL YA!

At this point in the day, the pain in my back was so bad that I could barely stand, but my wonderful Chiropractor, the lovely Sasha, worked me over for a half hour! I got home to find that the treatment was not only wearing off, but that my buttocks were now covered in bruises as a result of the cure. I followed that up with a massage and now my butt is so sore that not only can I not sit down because of the internal pain, but I cannot sit down because of the external pain. Win win!

So, bless Sasha’s heart, she came in on Saturday, her day off, and worked me over again to little result. I think my back needed a break, but there was not time as we had to go for it. So ice heat ice heat ice heat muscle relaxers later, I was packing in slow-motion sporting a good Robaxiset buzz and a silly grin which was accompanied by nausea. I would start to pack toiletries and wonder, “How did I get on the floor playing “gimme it” with the dogs?” Add to that the fact that I woke up on the day of travel with a swollen bottom lip sporting a burgeoning cold sore. At this point I am staring into the mirror laughing my battered ass off. You gotta laugh.

The following excerpt is from the email I sent to aforementioned friends. The credit for the term “downstairs lady” should go to my brilliant and hilarious friend Teresa Pavlinek who has coined with this phrase a whimsical name for the female anatomy.

Dear Cheryl, Barb, Annette and Sheila,

So get to the airport and back is baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.  Nausea from the Robaxiset is wearing off, but I am now in a full body sweat.

Limping along with a stiff upper lip, which is chapped and dry from the herpes meds, I manage to stumble to the Air Canada lounge and have a bite and a glass of wine to sooth my tummy. Then I take two Advil, which actually work quickly and quite well. Once on the plane I realize that although my back is better I am getting Colin's wretched cold BIG TIME, so stuffed up am I becoming.  So in no particular order, I take Tylenol, Coldfx, and of course Sulfa for my needy, burning downstairs lady.

I have a bite of food, watch a movie, take a nervie-dervie (sleeping pill for blog pepes who don’t know my vernacular) and sleep through to landing. Wake up having missed breakfast on the plane, driver picks us up and we get stuck in horrible traffic.

Hunger and dehydration nausea is building faster than a downtown condo. Get to the hotel which is beyond the beyond of chic, come up to the room, order breakfast, sit on the bed with Colin on the other side of the beautiful rose strewn dining table, eat perfect French toast until I feel my stomach is ready to accept the Sulfa pills to aid the woes of the “downstairs lady.”
Perched on the embroidered silk bedcover, I put the pill in my mouth, gag for all I'm worth and piss all over the bed. As I run screaming, gagging, laughing into the washroom, my husband follows me with a hand towel wiping clean the evidence.

HELLO London! The Clampetts have arrived.  

“Come and listen to a story ‘bout a gal named Deb,
A poor simple slut who just pissed a hotel bed.
She picks herself up, cause she's got nothing left to lose
And heads to the smart shops to buy her some shoes.”

***The following is the part that Annette, she of the great wit, added as response:

“So Deb sent an email to her friend named Annette
Who heard about the peeing and had to take herself to bed
Cause when she heard Jed singing about some bubbling crude...
Annette had no idea that it really was so ruuuudddee.

Pee that is ... Colin's knows...
Holding a towel ... away from his nose!”

JEALOUS YET????? I know, I know, I’m a jetsetter, what can I say? 


  1. Oh I feel your pain. I once got a raging Urinary infection start on a plane and it was so bad I was bleeding upon peeing. I had to go to the bathroom so much until I asked loudly if anyone had anything and no one did. I barely made it to stay in my seat for landing. I had a driver pick me up called my doctor and had this driver take me to the drugstore where I promptly got an antibiotic and peridium my favorite medicine that anesthetizes the bladder. What a jolting mess.

    I would like to think this happened because of too much love between you and Colin. I know have to take medicine after intercourse (no joke) as I have issues every time if I don't. I know TMI. But I do love your stories and your humor even though I know how much it hurts. Hope you are having fun now and that you got great shoes.

  2. Oh, Deb. That's just....... woeful.

    The stresses of this afternoon (you know) have apparently been intense enough to render me sufficiently immunocompromised that an opportunistic little bugger of a cold sore has now begun to set up shop on my lower lip, too.

    Well, shit.

    Deb, Deb, Deb. What a sick and twisted conspiracy your body has launched against you! Die, bacteria, die! Shrivel and rot away, you evil, wretched viruses! Vertebrae and discs, straighten up! No more of this crooked, slouching around nonsense for you, stupid spinal column!

    How many days are you in London? Let's hope it's long enough for the sulfa to cure your bladder, the Valtrex (?) to cure your lip, your immune system and all sorts of lovely boosters to kick your cold virus's ass, and for your back to decide it's bored of torturing you and is ready, now, to explore the city instead. I hope so earnestly that you can have a portion of your trip be a good trip. Poor, pained Deb. *ever so gentle hugs*

    I wish, soooo wish, I could fix it all for you. :( *sigh* If I had magical powers, you know I would aim a good ole whack of the wand right at you. *more ultra-careful hugs*

    And, good heavens, Colin with the damp rag. Geez. That's a keeper you've got there, Deb. A loving, patient, gentle, long suffering keeper. Poor, dear, sweet man.

    *goes back to listening to Joy Division in the dark, listening for thunder in the distance to signal the approaching storm front, and trying not to think too hard during insomnia*

    Deb, I love you.

  3. Okay, I guess I have to apologize, 'cause I'm practically peeing my pants from laughing so hard!
    We start with Ewww (my dad has that same ear issue, to my mother's absolute delight) (yeah, that's the sarcasm talking), to Owww, to ICK (Sulfa's MEAN.)

    Then you mention "back" and we're on to *cringe,* like when you're trying to hide from a scary moving by pulling your legs up and covering your eyes, and by then, I'm thinking, "This had better not get any worse." But, it did, it did. Finally, FINALLY, pain meds are introduced. Suddenly you're on the floor rolling around with the pups, and there starts the giggling.

    More drugs (oh, what the hell, MORE drugs) on the airplane, a nap, and then a beautiful shot of a hotel.

    And then... and then. You died and ran to the bathroom and I died laughing. Christ, I hope that you felt the same relief after, uh, clean-up, as I did after that laugh. whew...

    Gorgeous hotel, Colin running with a towel. *snicker* *snicker* Ooh, hotel. *breathe*

    Cut to the Clampetts, and now all I can do is bow down to both you and Annette since I'm down here anyway holding my stomach from the laugh cramps.

    Jeez, Deb, I hope you start to feel better at some point this... month? You are BEYOND a trooper. So glad you're enjoying the trip so far!

    How IS the view out your window, anyway?

  4. Deb, all I can say is... you made me happy to not be a jet setter. Dang girl, your right at some point all you can do is laugh.
    But you got a great story out of it...and so did Colin.

    Pamela Jo

  5. Thanks ladies for all your support. Hope you had a few laughs at my expense as was the intention. Another day has dawned and I am feeling better. Back is still sore but not as sore and other areas are healing nicely thanks. London here I come!

  6. Oh my goodness Deb...that's just...I don't even know what to say! I absolutely adore your pictures so far, though! I hope that you are still able to power up and enjoy London! :)

  7. I have to admit -- as Deb already knows through our email exchange -- that I too laughed at her expense. Oh wow. Sooo funny. (and, yes, sympathetically painful)

    Thrilled to hear you're feeling better, my dear! Can't wait for the next installment. xo

  8. I'm reading this cringing and laughing. Each sentence I think to myself "it can't get worse" and then it does. It's like a bad horror movie except you can't make this kind of stuff up. You just have to laugh. Well, gald to hear you are on the mend. It's a good thing, too, because London calls.

  9. Aww Deb hope you feel better. Being sick is never fun. At least your laugh about it,and you don't Let it get you down. Hope your LOndon trip is doing well. Feel better Deb

  10. i love you.

    Next time, keep a rolled up paper towel in your panties. That's what I do.

    Wrong, yes. I know. ;)

  11. Oh my word. I should been wearing leak protection before reading this. Maybe we need a pre,peri post menopausal code word for "will likely make you pee your pants if you have any sort of inconti issues."

    I do hope you're feeling better, Deb. I'm trying to keep my jealousy in check.

  12. Oh Deb, hope you feel better soon and can enjoy your trip. As my grandmother says, getting older sucks but it beats the alternative.

  13. That sounds like an adventure, Deb. It's never fun to be sick when you're traveling. At least the medical system is relatively easy to navigate over in London (as opposed to Cairo, where you go to the pharmacist if you're sick before seeing a doctor). Get well soon!!

    But after I read about the bed incident, I heard Johnny Wayne in my head saying, "For this relief, much thanks!" I think that's from "Rinse the Blood from My Toga" or "The Shakespearean Baseball Game" - not quite sure which...

  14. "burning lady downstairs."

    i DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!! that's almost better than the "fireballs in my universe" I heard today (I'll explain later this week...)

    sorry about the Sulfa...yes I know they are horse pills. then i went into nursing student mode and looked up Robaxacet, because I have never heard of it. oh muscle relaxers....had a friend last year who was on Flexeril...she couldn't remember parts of her day when she was on it. I advise you to be cautious :]

    Hope you do get to feeling better while you're in London. Hugs!

  15. Ohh poor Deb I sure hope you feel better soon. What a way to start off a trip but on the plus side it can only get better from here.

    Thanks so much for the laugh I needed it. Even despite the turning blue can't breathe gagging coughing fit it induced that resulted in my own run for the bathroom it was well worth the read.

  16. I was in my first trimester preggers in Japan, sick as a dog the whole time. Did I let that stop me? No way!
    Have a blast and soak in every minute Deb. Can't wait to hear about all your exciting adventures.

  17. "peed the bed"

    My response out loud: "Oh my god!"

    And you laugh about this, and cold sores. I think I love you.

  18. No wonder you were reluctant to let me see your hotel room!!!!


  19. Okay, this time I mean it. I really did laugh out loud. You poor simple slut. :-)


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.