Hell and Damnation

My Grandma had surgery to replace her pacemaker a couple of days ago. My parents went up to be with her for a few days.



The latest report today is that the surgery was simple and went great, and that she is doing great. She had been sluggish and disoriented due to the lack of oxygen getting to her brain because of the malfunctioning pacemaker. But now she is perky, chatty, and feeling good.

In fact, she is feeling so good that she has picked up a new habit in the past few days since the surgery. She now cusses like a sailor. And apparently it is hilarious.

My mom called with the update earlier today, and she told me all about my grandma cussing up a storm, and that they all just die laughing because it's hilarious. Even hearing my mom repeat the things my Grandma was saying was hilarious. You have to understand that my grandma is just one of those ladies that doesn't do that. She never goes a day without her make-up on (her "face" as she calls it), even in her nursing home. We never used to wear cut-off jean shorts to visit Grandma because she didn't approve of that as acceptable attire. My Grandma is a role model, through and through. I have never heard her swear in my entire life. God-fearing and upstanding all the way.

But I guess now that she's getting full oxygen to the brain again, and considering she's 86 years old, I guess she figured she's got nothing to lose, so before it's too late, she'd better get some good cussing in....

So, as one of my role models in life and as someone I've always respected, I say if she can do it, SO CAN I.

Hell. Damn. Damn. Damn...... Hell. Damn.

I definitely needed the laugh today. For the first time in five and a half years, I only have one job. I've suddenly been given the gift of time, but with less money to fill my time. Granted, it's only 8-10 hours a week of time. But I'm not quite sure what to do with this unexpected change in circumstance. More time to sit alone on the couch eating cheese, I suppose....

My keychain is lighter. It's odd. The weight of a keychain is comforting and familiar. Mine is strange and foreign now, and it makes a different noise when my remaining keys clank together. I don't recognize it.

It's been a perfect night to hunker down with some comforting Whataburger, my pjs, and my DVR. I'm tired. I'm weepy. I don't know what to say.

So I'll take a cue from one of the wisest people I've ever known....

Hell. Damn Damn Damn. Hell Hell...... Damn.

C.T.