Top Ten? Top Five? Seven? Frankly, I don't really give a @)#* right about now...

Top SEVEN things you can do when not trying to commit harakiri cause you’ve been incapacitated for TOO DAMN LONG (aka eight weeks) and can only walk around once an hour for a split second or so.

7.  List ways you can off yourself.

6.  Google interesting ways you can off yourself.  (Forget the log.  It only wants to hurt you and inflict pain AND wants you to finish yourself off yourself.)

5.  Discover the list your children have made of ways THEY can off you,cause by now you’ve effectively driven them insane.  (And visa versa.)

4.  Stumble upon a great guy on match.com, and then see how many times you can whine, complain, moan and groan (get your mind out of the gutter, people) before he CUTS AND RUNS.  (The jury is still out, but not for lack of trying on MY part; apparently I’m a GREAT complainer.)

3.  Conduct an experiment to see how FAST you can put on that 35 pounds that it took you two years to lose.  I recommend eating ALL the Hershey Mini’s, Ferraro Rocher’s, Lindor Truffles and Ghirardelli chocolates that all your friends so thoughtfully provided you while in the hospital.  (Do NOT share; I repeat, do not share said candies.)   (This particular item might have a direct impact on #7, and will probably hasten said “cut and run”.)

2.  Have your daughters try to help you pull on your incredibly tight (and very sexy) white compression  stockings that are designed to stop blood clots while you lie on the floor in an incredibly unflattering position.  This will not only provide them with hysterical (but painful) entertainment, it will ensure that they do NOT come and “help” you again during your convalescence. (“This would be much easier if you were a baby…..and smaller….and NOT our mother…..”   Everyone’s a damn comedian.)

1. See how many Middleswarth Bar-b-que Potato chips you can eat in one whole day.  It helps when your friends (who know you too well) provide you with multiple (hundreds of)  bags of said chips in an effort to lift your sinking spirits.  I also highly recommend keeping crumbs of said chips on your increasingly large bosom.  (They sparkle….kind of like edible glitter….)

someone throw me a life preserver......I'm sinking fast......

Where was Shirley when I needed her? (I needed the @(#*#& meds.)

I was not looking my best as a few visitors made their way to my hospital room on Tuesday afternoon.  I hadn’t remembered that the doctor instructed me to ASK for painkillers after surgery, and I was simply waiting for the nurses to keep me comfortable. 

Not a good move.

When things were finally right with the world (and the patient was medicated properly) a slow stream of friends appeared to confirm that I was still among the living.

My small room was filled with fellow teachers, friends, my sister and an incredibly tall and handsome Mr. Darcy. (wink, wink.)   I smiled as I watched the various animated conversations, and felt incredibly loved. It was then I heard a faint knock at the door, and turned to see who were going to have to try to cram into the room.

My eyes widened in shock as I spotted a short, handsome boy holding his mother’s hand.

In a flash he ran to my bed to wrap me in a hug. 

It was Frank.

My adorable, smiling, gravelly voiced Frank.

It was the last thing I expected, but the very best medicine  I could have gotten; the best medicine, indeed.

  

This is why you can't buy a hip replacement kit at the store. (Leave it to the professionals, I guess.)

The most effective, brilliant and perhaps painful way to ensure that you do NOT have pre-surgery jitters the night before hip-replacement surgery?

Walk around for 8 (EIGHT) weeks on said fractured hip and CRUSHED hip joint.  But don’t just walk around on it, receive various forms of physical therapy, go to the gym, hike a bit MORE, unpack and redecorate a NEW CLASSROOM, and teach a pack of amazing first graders on your feet five days a week.   

I have never been more excited to be cut wide open than I am at this minute.  And frankly, if someone were to hand me a scalpel I would do it MYSELF RIGHT NOW.

Oh, and by the way, could you all send a shout-out up to God tomorrow morning at 7:45?  I’d appreciate it if the surgeon could have as many angels in his corner as possible.

It certainly can’t hurt.

(I’ll be RIGHT back. p.s.)