ugh with a side of funny

Thank you for your continued prayers. I'd love to report that things have turned around--but I'd be lying. :)

Things seem to continue to be rough. The latest good news is that I'm able to see my GI doctor about doing the gastric pacemaker surgery on Friday. I'm hoping to get this done ASAP--hoping that it will help me ward off the current downward trend. I have lost 8 lbs since the ER trip which was just two weeks ago. I don't have any more news on the ovarian cysts. My pain continues to be bad, but not excruciating--leading me to believe that they are either getting smaller, or else just not rupturing any longer. I'm supposed to have a follow-up ultrasound in about a month.

I'm planning to ask the GI doc on Friday if they can do a little "spring cleaning" in my abdomen while they are putting in the pacemaker. I'm hoping that they might be able to remove scar tissue, remove any large ovarian cysts and put in the the Gastric Pacer all at the same time. This might be wishful thinking on my part--I'll have to keep you posted.

And now, for a funny story from my life...

In our house in Enumclaw, we have a wood-burning fireplace in our family room. The other night, we had record low temperatures in our area, and I thought how nice it might be to have a fire going while we watched some movies.

**Please remember that I'm married to a firefighter as you read the rest of the story.**

I had purchased some presto logs, after having read about how they burn "cleaner" and are ultimately "better for the environment." Marcus read the directions carefully, and put the presto logs in the formation written on the package. He put two full presto logs next to each other, with a piece of kindling in the middle, and then placed one presto log broken into three pieces on top with a bit more kindling.

About an hour and a half later, and with much muttering from Marcus, the fire was still not burning. I thought I could help, but even my "I used to be a camp counselor and I can make a fire with just one match" skills could end the presto log lack of fire situation.

Marcus thought that it might help to douse one of the small presto logs with a bit of vodka. I thought that seemed like a reasonable idea--he returned with the drenched log, but it still wouldn't light. About 30 minutes later, in his infinite wisdom, he disappeared into the garage with one of the small pieces of presto log.

As he re-entered the house, he shouted, "Don't light any matches, I'm coming in with a gasoline-soaked presto log." Certain that he was going to light his facial hair or some part of me on fire, I ran into the living room, thinking the log might explode or something...Alas, even the gasoline-soaked stupid presto log would not stay lit. How can this be? Faulty product--perhaps.

Fortunately, we had purchased regular wood as well. I removed all presto log pieces, and started over with real wood. One match later, we had a fire burning bright.

In my infinite wisdom, I chucked a couple of presto logs onto the fire that was burning fabulously. About 5 minutes passed, and we had a roaring flame. It was burning so hot and so huge that it set off our upstairs smoke detector. Marcus blamed me for this.

All in all, we had some excellent laughs--and decided to never purchase presto logs again.