In Front Of My Doctor? Really?

The other day, I had to make a doctors appointment because I have a swollen lymph node in my neck. I prayed, and tried every home remedy you could think of first, because I had rather be beaten than go to the doctor. I have post traumatic stress from a childhood injury which led to the "White Coat Syndrome" that I now have as an adult.

At any rate, I called and made myself an appointment while I was at work. I didn't want to go, but since I knew that I had to go, I made a great decision... I decided that I would drive home first and pick my husband up so that I wouldn't be alone if they diagnosed me with something devastating. What in the name of the good Lord was I thinking?

My first clue that taking him with me might not be the brightest idea I've ever had, came in the form of a statement he made on the way there. He looked at me, very seriously, and said "Did you know that if something happens to you before it does me my pension amount will go up?" What? Really??

We arrived on time and everything was going fine in the waiting room, but when they called my name to come back, it was like someone whispered in his ear "It's showtime."

He began by giving the nurse too much information about himself and the overall conversation that he had with her resulted in my usually low blood pressure reading 155/99.

I politely ask that he refrain from talking for a few minutes and my blood pressure was brought under control by a combination of my deep breathing, and my ability to go somewhere else in my mind.

The problem was, just as soon as we were left alone in the exam room it was evidently time for Act II.

He sat on the stool the doctor uses, which of course was on wheels and began to use his body weight and arms to roll all over the room without his feet touching the floor. He did this pausing only long enough to snatch the instrument they use to examine your ears off the wall, where it was hanging, to take it along for the ride.

After almost falling from the stool backwards, and cracking his head open in the process, you would think that he would have needed an intermission, but oh no..this caused laughter which brought him to tears....

Enter the doctor stage left......The doctor began by asking me all of the routine questions that I expected. I was answering them, and praying for silence from the peanut gallery, when I was asked the one question that my husband couldn't seem to let go by without answering for me.

The doctor said Do you have multiple sex partners Mrs. Foster? To which I immediately replied no, and then the peanut gallery chimed in. He said, very seriously, excuse me doctor, but she does go missing on the weekends.

I wanted the floor to just swallow me up, then and there. When it became apparent that this wasn't going to happen, I just repeated my answer and said no I do not have multiple partners. Thankfully, the doctor moved on..The doctor then said So he is your only partner?

As you can imagine there was a hard pause...Lord, at that point my husband was acting so unbelievable that I wanted to say no...I lied..there is someone else, and I do go missing on the weekends....I didn't of course, but I do believe the doctor would have understood.

You would think that all of that would have been quite enough, but no it wasn't...
The King of comedy just kept it coming...

The doctor began to explain to me what he thought was wrong. He said, Mrs. Foster I'm not sure, but this could be from a cold you have had recently, or it could just be an infection in your lymph node....

Well that did it. Just as soon as the doctor had spoken the word infection I heard my husband say "Infection?" I kiss her. There was dead silence in the room...The next comment he made was even better...."He looked right at the doctor and he said, with alarm in his voice, "You know I don't mean just a peck!...I mean, I've had my tongue in her mouth!"

At that point I almost blacked out...I have never been more mortified in my entire life. When I could focus again, I looked right at my husband and I mouthed silently to him these words.."I want you out of here now." As you might have guessed he remained in the room acting as if he had no idea what I had tried to convey to him.

I could not get my throat culture done, or my antibiotic prescription in my hand fast enough. As we were leaving he looked at the doctor and said so you want us to come back in 10 days if this medicine doesn't take care of it. Right? I remained silent, the doctor said yes, and the visit was over.

When we were finally in the truck with the doors closed, I looked at him, and said with the utmost sincerity..."I now know for sure that you are delusional." He then asked me what I meant. I, in turn, had a question. I said did you not hear yourself say the word "us" in reference to a return visit to the doctor?

He responded with a yes, and I said then let me give you some clarification on the matter...

If you think for one minute I would go back into a doctors office with you at my side, you are beyond insane. You are, in fact, so certifiable that you should actually walk around with papers in your hand stating that fact..

I mean I love this man y'all, but I have decided that he really should come with some sort of a warning label....It could read something like:

Warning: Prone to blurting out uncensored thoughts that are at times inappropriate, and performs random dance moves and stunts, both privately and in public, while wearing one of a kind outfit creations....

White Rabbits And Other Treasures

This morning I opened the door that leads from inside our home to the garage and the first thing I saw was a very large white rabbit. For a fleeting moment I thought my name was Alice, and I had fallen into a hole, but before I began to spin hopelessly out of control, I spotted the over sized operating room lamp from the 1940's standing next to it. I knew then that I was in fact not Alice, but that my husband had been out buying antiques again.

After further investigation, I learned that the white rabbit was actually a prop for the Ice Capades in the 1940's or 50's..along with the stage lights and costumes that were lying beside said rabbit.

I was also informed that people who decorate lofts are loving these old operating room lamps for corners of their rooms. I had no idea. Evidently I live under a rock...

My husband has been buying and selling antiques for years. He keeps some pieces that we like, and resells others. He loves it, and he has been able to do this while making a profit most of the time.

The things he brought home when he was still working at the police department were few in number, but now that he's retired he has filled a rented storage unit, and the phrase that seems to fit our garage these days is "cut a path". I mean it looks like there was a taping of Antique Roadshow going on and someone ran amuck.

Antiquing has other downfalls that one may not think about right away. For instance, the other night he came walking in with a box full of things to look through. When he sat it down on the floor a bug came crawling out that I could not even begin to identify. Once he had taken care of the bug, I sent him and his little treasure box right back out the door. I have since created a check point at the door that leads out to our garage and have informed him of its hours of operation.

Don't get me wrong, I have an appreciation for certain antiques, and he has brought home some really neat things, like an original program from the Gone With The Wind premiere, which I love, and an actual column from when the restoration of the Fox Theatre in Atlanta was done.

There have also been things like really old letters and postcards from the early 1800's that were very fascinating to read.

It makes me happy that he has something to do that he enjoys so much. I just think maybe he should be a bit more selective in what he brings home. I mean a large white rabbit? Seriously?

Please believe me when I tell you that the white rabbit only scratches the surface of his "purchases".

This man has brought home things that even he can't identify by name, use, or purpose, as well as some that can be identified, but I have been unable to grasp the need for. We are talking about a man who once bought a pair of antique bowling shoes complete with size on the back, and actually wore them downtown to the Phillips Arena for a Thrashers game. Oh yes, as a bonus, he is at all times a man of great style and fashion sense.

There are also times that I find myself thinking that it would be nice if I could go out and get into the truck without having to call him to unload it first...you see the thing is I have no intention whatsoever of driving around town looking like I just drove straight out of an episode of Sanford And Son.

Speaking of the truck, I do also happen to know that he, at some point, came across some old 96 Rock stickers. I know this because I spotted the one that he has recently applied to the bumper of our truck. 96 Rock was a very popular radio station here in Atlanta during the late 1970's. It was what my husband listened to when he was in high school..Rock On!!

Like I said before, I appreciate some antiques myself, but Lord have mercy on a wife who has to make old bowling shoes disappear, and weave her way through white rabbits and operating room lamps just to get into her vehicle so she can leave for work every morning...

Playing To An Audience Of One

I have learned quite a few things about my husband in the many years that we've been married, among them being that he enjoys providing me with entertainment.

I'm not talking about the movies, or the fact that he takes me to plays and dancing. In fact, Jesus will come before he does any of those things with me.

The entertainment I'm referring to is very sporadic and random, and consists of singing and dancing. Sometimes one, sometimes the other, or at times these talents can be seen simultaneously.

Be advised the shows start whenever the spirit moves him, and let me just say that the spirit moves him both at home, and in the public. The timing evidently cannot be controlled.

I will share with you a few examples of how random these performances can be. He has been known to dance and sing across the catwalk in our former home in what I can only compare to a risky business "outfit" minus the shades.

On another occasion we were at the grocery store, and as we were strolling down the cereal aisle he suddenly snatched up a box of pop tarts and began a little song and dance routine like he had been hired by the Kellogg's Company and placed in their advertising department.

Needless to say I immediately sped up with the shopping cart, but as I was leaving him behind he shouted out "Ma'am, Ma'am..if you leave I have to start the whole routine over again...There were many onlookers.... I was mortified...him? Not at all..

One afternoon as I was coming home from work he called and asked me where I was. I told him that I was driving home, and he said "Just listen to this"...

The next thing I heard was a rather loud rendition of When A Man Loves A Woman, and it was my husband singing it. I have to admit it made me smile and upon hearing some of the notes even chuckle. When I finally arrived home that day I learned that he had, in his spare time,discovered Karaoke on demand.

Just the other day I was sitting in my office, drinking my first cup of coffee of the morning, when suddenly there he was in front of my desk. He began to sing....
very loudly....He stood there doing his best Bob Seger imitation. He was pouring his heart and soul into Turn The Page. It was 8:30 A.M. on a Saturday morning....

At first...I just sat there and stared at him...with what I am sure, was a look of disbelief on my face...A look that most assuredly asked, Seriously? Is this happening right now?

I then had a fleeting thought about the You Tube potential, but it passed as quickly as it came. This thought was followed by my thinking I am married to a man with a mind that is considerably unstable..

But as the song went on and I began to relax a bit with the aid of the laughter his performance brought me.... I couldn't help but think how very happy I am to be married to a man that thinks I am worth the time and effort he spends on these many occasions ..

The occasions when the spirit moves him and he's "playing to an audience of one"......

Mama Tucked Me In

This past week we had a winter storm that left us with very cold temperatures and lots of Ice on the ground. As luck would have it my heat was out at my house and due to ice on the roads causing business closings, the repairman couldn't get the part that was needed to fix it.

My husband was out of town so that left me and my son at home, and I will tell you it was just to cold to stay. I have the most loving family that anyone could hope to be blessed with so my sister and her husband were kind enough to take us in for a few days.

When we got there I was very happy to see that my Mama had also come down from Athens, GA and was there to stay through the storm as well.

We all got along very well and it was so nice to spend such quality time with each other laughing and talking over cup after cup of coffee, and enjoying good old fashion dinners cooked by Mama.

The time seemed to go by so quickly with one day leading into the next, and before I knew it, four days had gone by and it was time to go home.

When I finally left my sister's house it was with an amazing gift from my Mama. It was the gift of a memory that I will cherish until I draw my last breath. A reminder of the unconditional love of a mother for her children.

I was downstairs on my sisters couch about to fall asleep. It was going to be the first night I had slept without a heating blanket because I had let my son use it.

My Mama came in, and I felt her putting another blanket on top of me and she literally tucked me in. She said, "This is a new blanket I brought with me. I've never even used it." I put my hand over hers and I said Mama, you are so sweet to think about me, and she said "I was afraid you'd get cold down here, and it's what Mama's do."

I'm forty something years old and it's been a long long time since my Mama tucked me in. In that moment she gave me a glimpse back into my childhood. It was complete with the feeling that I was safe from the world and that everything was okay because my Mama was in charge and because she loved me.

When I was leaving she handed me that blanket, and she said you keep this and I looked at her and I said "Mama this is a treasure and I will cherish it always." I explained to her then just how much it had meant to me for her to tuck me in with that blanket. I told her what a true gift it had been for me.

I slept like a baby that night and probably let go of things I've been worried about for years.

Somehow, I know that in the future if I'm having trouble sleeping, I can just use that blanket, and it will help. There is nothing on Earth that can come close to the love of a great Mama.....and I am blessed not only with that love, but with the wisdom to appreciate it....

I love you Mama...

Under Investigation

One afternoon, when I arrived home from work, I found my husband sitting in a chair in our den, bleeding, bruised, and scraped up from head to toe.

I immediately ran over to him and asked what happened, and was informed that he had been out on our front porch, in his Crocs, watering the ferns and had fallen down the steps....all ten of them, and landed on the concrete walkway at the bottom.

He then informed me that his hip was hurting and he wasn't sure that he could walk. I was very worried about him so I helped him out to the car and drove him to the emergency room at the local hospital.

We were called back to an exam room, not long after our arrival, by a very no nonsense looking nurse. The nurse immediately, with a very minimal amount of words, began taking my husbands vitals, writing down the locations of his wounds, and getting all of the preliminary things done for the doctor before he came in to examine my husband.

Well that was all fine with me. I wasn't there for a deep conversation anyway. I just wanted to make sure that nothing was broken and my husband was going to retain his ability to walk. My husband, however, needs more in the way of conversation and proved this that day when suddenly he looked at the nurse and blurted out "She did this to me".

The room was silent again and all that I could think was seriously??? Did he just actually say that?

I responded in the only way that I could. I looked right at the nurse and I said "Oh no, it wasn't me. I would have done a much better job".

Needless to say, we got no response from nurse Ratched. She just finished her job and left the room.

As soon as she closed the door behind her I looked at my husband and asked him if he was completely insane. I said did you happen to notice that Nurse Ratchet was a bit on the serious side? He appeared to be a little to nonchalant about it, so I said What I'm telling you is she'll turn me in for spousal abuse.

He said "I was only joking". I replied with , she wasn't laughing.. I told him never to do that again with someone who looks and acts as if they haven't so much as broken a smile in the last two decades.

My husband agreed not to do anything like that again and the doctor came in shortly thereafter. A few x-rays and bandages later we were on our way home.

Fast forward...about one month later...

My husband and I were backing out of the driveway and he stopped to get the mail.
There it was in the mailbox...a letter. The letter was addressed to my husband, and was from an attorney that worked for our health insurance company. Not only was he an attorney for them, he was of the investigative sort. The letter stated that my husband was to call him immediately upon receipt of this letter.

He just couln't imagine what they wanted, but he pulled his cell phone out of his pocked and dialed the number..

Oh Yes.......Nurse Ratched had hooked me up.

He had the speaker on so I could hear his conversation. A woman answered, and when my husband identified himself, she transferred the call in to the attorney. This time a very serious sounding man answered and said that he had a question for my husband about the "incident" in which he had fallen down the stairs.

My husband told him to go ahead with his question and the attorney said..."Mr. Foster, was there a second party involved with your fall?"

My husband with a smirk on his face explained how he had fallen and said that there had not been a second party involved.

Then..it was my turn to blurt out..before I could contain myself I heard my voice saying very loudly, "No there wasn't a second party involvement that day but if he gets hurt again in the very near future you might want to investigate".

My husband quickly got off the phone with the man and I shot him a look that said go ahead. Laugh...please laugh....and you will find yourself in the middle of next week as my grandmother would say.

He is an intelligent man so, as you may have guessed, he did not laugh. He began instead to apologize profusely.  I just looked at him and I said Oh you've got jokes...you are a funny funny man...but here's a tip for you...just for safety's sake, and I am talking about yours.... why don't you just err on the side of caution, and not be so funny that I wind up incarcerated.....

He said okay, very quickly, and the look on my face was so serious, I feel pretty confident that we now have ourselves an understanding...

A Man And His Shoes

I have written many times before about the fact that as far as fashion statements go my husband is a hot mess. He is a man with a style all his own, and his unique fashion sense carries itself all the way down to his feet. This man loves himself some shoes...

When I met my husband he was the proud owner of a pair of patchwork boots. Over the course of the two years that we were friends I saw him wear those boots several times.

It wasn't until a couple of years later, when we were dating that I found the words to gently tell him that I thought those boots were the most horrible looking shoes I had ever seen. He seemed extremely shocked, but on the upside I never saw those boots again.

I felt a huge sense of relief when he stopped wearing them because I will tell you that when we went out, they were real attention getters. My relief was short lived, however, because as time went by, and we were married, I began to realize that my husband has an "out of the box" fashion sense, especially when it comes to shoes.

Over the years I have seen this manifest itself in the form of everything from the patchwork boots to bowling shoes.

That's right, bowling shoes. This man once wore bowling shoes that he had gotten from somewhere, complete with numbers on the back of the heel to the Super bowl of motor cross in Atlanta. I know that motor cross is not exactly a formal affair, but bowling shoes? Seriously??

The best part is he not only wears them, but "he wears them proud", as my Granny would have said. For example, the night he had the bowling shoes on he noticed a woman in the elevator with him, staring at his shoes. He looked right at her and said "Ma'am if you'll press 2 for me I'll tell you where you can get a pair of these shoes". I am sure that poor woman was mortified.

Since the bowling shoes there have been many other pairs of shoes that fall into the category of "attention getters". About a year ago he bought himself some Ed Hardy tennis shoes. For those of you who may not have seen these they look like massive tattoos on canvas. Those had to be retired one day, when he came home and declared the market saturated with the Ed Hardy name.

His closet holds many great choices in footwear and he has rocked them all at one time or the other.  He has lime green Nikes with white polka dots, some form of what I hope is faux animal fur slip-ons from Kenya, up to and including his shiny patent leather police shoes that were recently brought out of retirement, and worn with black dress socks and shorts to dinner on Thanksgiving day.

Please, just save yourself the effort...don't even try to compile a visual. Without him standing before you it's simply not possible.

I know that my husband is going to continue to have a bit of flair for the "different" when it comes to his shoe choices, and after 27 years of marriage I am finally making an attempt to come to terms with that.

I still don't think that it makes me a bad person if I admit that I have also decided to begin to pray that Heaven will be a barefoot paradise........

Thanksgiving... On Mama We Do Depend

Thanksgiving for me is a day of celebrating my family and all of the blessings that we have in our lives. We all gather together and there is much noise, much laughter, much love and great food.

The great food is courtesy of my Mama. My Mama is an amazing cook. She learned everything about making turkey and dressing and all of that from her Mama, My Granny, also an amazing cook.

When my Mama became an adult herself, She was smart enough to realize that She should pay attention to how my Granny made Thanksgiving dinner. My sisters and I haven't had that forethought.....

We sit in the kitchen with my Mama every year sipping coffee, telling stories, laughing and yucking it up, while getting Mama the occasional item here and there, if she needs it, or opening the oven door for her if she's carrying a large dish she needs to slide inside it.

Oh yes, we are her helpers kind and good, but when it comes to cooking the turkey and dressing or gravy or any of that, we couldn't buy a clue..

I tried to gently point out to my sisters, standing there with Mama last year, that we might need to start learning a little bit about the whole Thanksgiving meal preparation process by saying to them "y'all, we need to pay attention to how Mama makes this dressing".

My twin sister just looked at me, suddenly in a state of confusion, and said "what do you mean?"

I said "you know...take a note, get a recipe, learn something..get on the page with this dressing making thing...

Little sister pipes up.."Why? Mama always makes the dressing."

Now, like I said, my Mama was standing there listening to this whole conversation, and I am sure by this point, thinking to herself, Dear Lord, I am not even going to be able to die in peace, because my children will not be able to have a decent Thanksgiving ever again.

Well needless to say, amidst all the confusion that I had created by such a thought, I was forced to put gentle suggestion aside, and just give it to the two of them straight.

I looked right at them and said "Let me simplify it for you.. If we don't learn how to make this dressing and all of this other stuff and God forbid something happens to Mama, you, me, our brothers, children, grandchildren, and spouses are all going to be at the Cracker Barrel."

A hush fell over the room. My Mama just shook her head, and by the time I had all of this explained she had the dressing made and put it in the pan, so I opened the oven door, and we all kindly agreed with each other that we did need to pay attention in the future.

Feeling sure we had taken care of this matter of  importance we continued to sip our coffee.

I called Mama this year, as I always do, and I said "what do you want me to bring Thursday?". She said "Sharon's (my little sister) making macaroni and cheese, call your sister and y'all bring rolls, tea and ice". I said you don't want me to cook anything? (Hard pause from my Mama)..No that's okay..just tea, ice, and rolls, and call your sister".

As I hung up the phone I was a little surprised that she didn't want me to cook anything at all...I mean I don't think she's ever heard the story about me baking a ham with the plastic on it (I took the big obvious plastic cover off of it, but some idiot thought it would be even better, evidently to put a thin second one on it that was vacuum sealed).

So it was settled..I would just bring what Mama said to bring, but when I got there I'd definitely pay more attention to her cooking, and get more involved. After reaching that decision, I called my sister. I said Mama said for us to bring Ice, tea, and rolls.

My Sister said that She'd get the ice, and I told her I'd get the rest, and so it went....

As I walked into the kitchen where Mama was cooking,  I saw that I was just in time to open the oven door.....I apologized to my Mama for not knowing more about it all and not being of more help to her. She looked at me and said "I love cooking for y'all.  I just really love and enjoy it." God bless her.

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her on the cheek and silently thought to myself .... We'd never be able to cook as good as Mama does anyway. Cracker Barrel would definitely be better than I could do....

and who in the world am I, to steal my Mama's joy???