Let's Not Focus on the Negative, Shall We?

Blurgh...blah, blah, blah...I had emergency gall bladder surgery followed by over six hours in which various and sundry nurses poked needles into my body trying to replace the IV which had fallen out, meaning I had no pain relief for six hours following surgery. Some 30 pokes with a needle later, a man showed up and put a PICC line in my arm. For those of you not familiar with this sort of thing...he cut a hole in my upper right arm on the inside...found one of my very uncooperative veins, and inserted a long tube that delivered saline and whatever meds the nurses saw fit to give me directly to my heart. So, finally, after six agonizing (worse than when I pushed the midget out of my girlie parts, without medication, and a bit longer as well), the PICC line guy walked in after the chest Xray that showed whether he had gotten the line in the right place and said, "Well, I have good news and bad news........(long pause in which I briefly considered quick and painless ways to kill myself without the three people in the room with me stopping me) The good news is there is no bad news." I thought my sister (who held my hair while I vomited from the pain and handed me cold cloths and kept the world updated and tried really hard not to cry herself) was going to launch herself over my bed and murder him. Finally they gave me the drugs and I cried with joy. Did I mention that my kid witnessed me vomiting from pain? Yeah, awesome.

But, here we are...a week after surgery and my staples have been removed, and despite the nasty stomach bug that's putting me through the wringer at the moment...I'm mostly okay. I've lost 15 pounds, and I'm covered in bruises from the many failed IV attempts, but I'm okay...well as okay as I usually am.

I've got an appointment with the Stanford Rheumatology clinic on Monday, and I'm really looking forward to finding a decent plan of treatment for my arthritis, etc...

Anyway, the good happy stuff is what I want to focus on. See, for the last few years I have been rat free. When my last rat passed away a couple of years ago, I decided to simplify my life a bit, and be rat free. Then, my niece bought a couple of pet store rats and against my very strenuous objections, mated them. The resulting two litters were more than she could handle, and the midget and I had been discussing the possibility (okay the midget begged and pleaded and I considered) of getting more rats, and so now we're a rat home again.

We've got three precious little dumbo ratties...one has curly rex hair, two are white and one has a light, champagne colored hood. They are only two months old and it's been ages since I've had little rats and had forgotten what charming little clowns baby rats are. This last week has been difficult, but it's helped to watch the sweet little babies bounce around...watching one build elaborate nests in a tube hammock while his brother busily dismantles it...it's great fun.

So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce my new sweet boys.
On the left is Dre, a champagne hooded boy, in the middle is Buster, a rex PEW (pink-eyed white), and Cee Lo on the left is a sweet little PEW boy. They are so fun and so sweet, so while I really wish my niece had listened to me and not brought new rats in the world when the shelters are bulging with available babies, I am glad they're here.