Je suis returnee
I got home yesterday (ooh, weird to think of Melbourne as 'home') form my long-ish weekend in Canberra.
Got in Thursday lunch time and my parentals picked me up from the airport (where it doesn't cost $9 to park for more than 20mins) and we went to Chill for lunch at Campbell shops. Here dad had his 'Last Supper' pre being admitted to hospital that afternoon.
After dropping mum and dad at the hospital I quickly discovered I had nothing to do except wait for my sister and friends to finish work. Tra la laaa.... waiting, waiting, waiting.
Finally Nellie returned and we went into Ckivs (Civic to those who are me or Lan) to meet up with Lan and then on to ANU to have coffee with Natnou at Sizzle Bento. Where was Sizzle Bento when I was at ANU? Entirely not fair.
Then Nell and I went to the hospital to say good night to dad and good luck for the morrow. Dad had a room with nice big windows looking out over the car park and onto Black Mountain - and yet I couldn't convince my mum or Nellie to moon out the window. Honestly, what is wrong with the world today?
Friday was a day of holding our breath. Dad was already gone for surgery at 8am when mum went in to see him off. The nurses suggested calling ICU at about lunch time. So we went shopping.
When we returned there was a message on the answering machine from Hugh in the US, who is due back in the country in the next couple of weeks or so. He is doing well, especially now that Camp is over, although he probably isn't doing 'well' so much as doing 'drunk'.
From then on it was basically waiting to here whether dad was out of surgery or not. We were at least cheered by the fact that the surgery had gone ahead, as it meant the cancer hadn't broken out of its membrane and spread further.
Finally at about 4pm we found out that dad had reached ICU. Massive sigh of relief.
Mum went off to see him and Nellie and I waited, and waited, and then waited some more, until mum called us to say we could go in.
Nell and I rang Hugh to tell him the good news. Nell and I were dying to get to the hospital, but it took us a while to get Hugh off the phone. I look forward to seeing my next mobile bill...
At 6pm we were able to see dad. He looked great, just a bit pale, obviously tired, with more tubes than usual (well, none is 'usual' and this was definitely more than none) and lots of staples under his chin and down his neck. A little Frankenstein-esque, but with less green skin and a lack of bolts in the neck. Having seen pics of my uncle's staples I knew what to expect.
We didn't stay long. Dad still had a tube down his throat to breathe so was communicating with us by writing. It was funny as he was still putting serifs on his letters, even though he was tired and doped on morphine.
The three of us left the hospital and headed straight for the champagne. We even opened a bottle of Ricadonna once the nice tasting champers ran out but had to have slices of lemon in it because it was so sweet. Don't say anything Lan - Ricadonna is gross.
From there on the weekend was divided between visits to the hospital and visits with Lan and Nat and a beautifully pregnant Fitzy.
Megan gave birth yesterday to the first of the next generation in my family (yet another boy in the Stella household!) which is exciting. I must keep remembering that I don't want babies yet. Especially after Fitzy explained the four degrees of tears (tears as in rips, not tears as in crying) you can get when giving birth. Eww eww eww eww.
I flew back home yesterday at lunch time and was lucky enough to be stopped at security for the explosive test. Which came back positive. Yes, I was explosive girl.
Apparently the machine had found traces of a rare explosive found in artillery shells called HMX (or something like that). Hurrah. In the meantime the last call for my plane was made. The guy tested himself, then re-tested me and all was clear (not surprisingly). I was the last person on my plane - how embarrassment.
Simon met me at Spencer St Station and we jumped on the tram home. All the way home we listened to the schoolies who were sitting near us above how tough and well hard they all are. Such as "if I was there I woulda held down his arms and let you beat the shit out of him". Yes. I'm sure. One young chap was telling the girl across from him about the tat he was planning to get (I believe the phrase 'fully sick' may have been said at this point). I smiled most of the way home.
The dogs were soooo excited to see me and sounded a lot like gwee gwees (guinea pigs to the uninitiated).
It was nice to be back sleeping in my own bed again.
New job starts tomorrow - eek!!!! I'm more worried about driving there than I am about anything else. Desperately not wanting to be late on my first day!
Got in Thursday lunch time and my parentals picked me up from the airport (where it doesn't cost $9 to park for more than 20mins) and we went to Chill for lunch at Campbell shops. Here dad had his 'Last Supper' pre being admitted to hospital that afternoon.
After dropping mum and dad at the hospital I quickly discovered I had nothing to do except wait for my sister and friends to finish work. Tra la laaa.... waiting, waiting, waiting.
Finally Nellie returned and we went into Ckivs (Civic to those who are me or Lan) to meet up with Lan and then on to ANU to have coffee with Natnou at Sizzle Bento. Where was Sizzle Bento when I was at ANU? Entirely not fair.
Then Nell and I went to the hospital to say good night to dad and good luck for the morrow. Dad had a room with nice big windows looking out over the car park and onto Black Mountain - and yet I couldn't convince my mum or Nellie to moon out the window. Honestly, what is wrong with the world today?
Friday was a day of holding our breath. Dad was already gone for surgery at 8am when mum went in to see him off. The nurses suggested calling ICU at about lunch time. So we went shopping.
When we returned there was a message on the answering machine from Hugh in the US, who is due back in the country in the next couple of weeks or so. He is doing well, especially now that Camp is over, although he probably isn't doing 'well' so much as doing 'drunk'.
From then on it was basically waiting to here whether dad was out of surgery or not. We were at least cheered by the fact that the surgery had gone ahead, as it meant the cancer hadn't broken out of its membrane and spread further.
Finally at about 4pm we found out that dad had reached ICU. Massive sigh of relief.
Mum went off to see him and Nellie and I waited, and waited, and then waited some more, until mum called us to say we could go in.
Nell and I rang Hugh to tell him the good news. Nell and I were dying to get to the hospital, but it took us a while to get Hugh off the phone. I look forward to seeing my next mobile bill...
At 6pm we were able to see dad. He looked great, just a bit pale, obviously tired, with more tubes than usual (well, none is 'usual' and this was definitely more than none) and lots of staples under his chin and down his neck. A little Frankenstein-esque, but with less green skin and a lack of bolts in the neck. Having seen pics of my uncle's staples I knew what to expect.
We didn't stay long. Dad still had a tube down his throat to breathe so was communicating with us by writing. It was funny as he was still putting serifs on his letters, even though he was tired and doped on morphine.
The three of us left the hospital and headed straight for the champagne. We even opened a bottle of Ricadonna once the nice tasting champers ran out but had to have slices of lemon in it because it was so sweet. Don't say anything Lan - Ricadonna is gross.
From there on the weekend was divided between visits to the hospital and visits with Lan and Nat and a beautifully pregnant Fitzy.
Megan gave birth yesterday to the first of the next generation in my family (yet another boy in the Stella household!) which is exciting. I must keep remembering that I don't want babies yet. Especially after Fitzy explained the four degrees of tears (tears as in rips, not tears as in crying) you can get when giving birth. Eww eww eww eww.
I flew back home yesterday at lunch time and was lucky enough to be stopped at security for the explosive test. Which came back positive. Yes, I was explosive girl.
Apparently the machine had found traces of a rare explosive found in artillery shells called HMX (or something like that). Hurrah. In the meantime the last call for my plane was made. The guy tested himself, then re-tested me and all was clear (not surprisingly). I was the last person on my plane - how embarrassment.
Simon met me at Spencer St Station and we jumped on the tram home. All the way home we listened to the schoolies who were sitting near us above how tough and well hard they all are. Such as "if I was there I woulda held down his arms and let you beat the shit out of him". Yes. I'm sure. One young chap was telling the girl across from him about the tat he was planning to get (I believe the phrase 'fully sick' may have been said at this point). I smiled most of the way home.
The dogs were soooo excited to see me and sounded a lot like gwee gwees (guinea pigs to the uninitiated).
It was nice to be back sleeping in my own bed again.
New job starts tomorrow - eek!!!! I'm more worried about driving there than I am about anything else. Desperately not wanting to be late on my first day!
posted by Miff at
2:12 pm
2 Comments:
Hurrah! (again) I think it bears saying in as many different forums as possible.
I got to be first too. Does this mean I am as cool as you?
By
Sherd, at 6:42 pm
Dammit! Second again!
What's a serif?
By
Anonymous, at 7:09 pm
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