Matilda, %$^!!

I haven’t revealed it thus far in the blog, but I must confess to you that I have a bit of a potty mouth. When I say ‘a bit of’ I might be stretching it. Truth be told that at many moments of frustration I rival any sailor. It’s been a working challenge of mine and I have slowly been making progress. Just yesterday morning we had a paint spill and my first response was “Oh crikey!“. There was however an earlier spill of a open container of joint compound from atop a ladder that did not receive the same mild Aussie response. Last night, though, I was speeding down the dirt road and a wild turkey began to cross and I never made it passed “Oh, oh”. I also managed to brake completely in time. (Yes, we really do contend with turkeys on our way home from the big city to our Mayberry. And no, I did not ask him why he was crossing.)

It’s not much, but it is progress and I’ll take it. I am very fearful, however, as I know that progress lies in jeopardy. Tomorrow night I face off with my arch nemesis. The anger is building inside of me and I am practicing ‘fudge, phooey and poo’ in anticipation. I am also randomly reciting the number 57.

You see, tomorrow night is when Matilda invades my home. The name sounds harmless, I know. She’s dancing, right, how bad can she be? Matilda is the name given to the pump that comes home with Dane so he has meds flowing into his system 24 hours a day until Saturday morning. The pump whom I must reset and whose bag I must change late at night. I admit my weak hands struggle with removing the empty bag from her vacuum tight seal and on a few nights I have hacked it away with scissors. Yes, I know that’s against nurses’ instructions. But let me tell you, the instructions are not always sufficient.

Take for example, resetting Matilda. She’s moody and those typed up instructions we received last time? WERE NOT RIGHT. Or perhaps the instructions were right and it was her programming that was CLEARLY incorrect. My hands are plenty strong enough to push buttons, thank you very much. The unfortunate on-call guy who took my phone calls can attest to the fact that I was totally correct and Matilda was completely at fault.

So I will begin the days this week with yoga and continued bible study about wilderness times. I will practice my G-rated vocabulary words and I will be ready. So bring it, Matilda! And bring your white flag of surrender with you. Because I’m bringing my scissors. And your unlock code, 57.