Biohazard: Read at your own risk

So I notice that people are already doing the year in review posts and I have yet to tell you about our Christmas. And why Dec 2008 can kiss my a$$. Okay, Dec 7th on, because up until the 6th I was in Mexico on a decadent holiday and that was pretty amazing.

But...

1. I caught a cold on Friday December 12th and I STILL HAVE THE BLOODY THING. I lost my voice for 5 days (the family was not too upset about that one) and then had a killer tickle/dry cough for 9 days. I coughed so much my gag reflex kicked in about 800 times. David wore himself out asking me if I was "okay" or "throwing up". I think he still cares, but he's stopped asking. Frankly, I can hardly blame him. And Nate trails me around the house admonishing, "Cough into your elbow mommy! Stop spreading germs."

2. Both boys have had low grade colds (snotty noses of varying colours, coughs, occasional fevers, pink eyes) for the past two months. I've stopped worrying about anything that doesn't involve high fever and wet coughs.)

3. On Dec 24th at 2pm, Jake develops some wicked bad diarrhea that smells about 6 rooms away. Sewer gas. We are scheduled to go to the neighbours for dinner. Loverly.

4. On Dec 24th at 3:30pm, Dave returns from running errands on foot a few blocks away (and pushing out a neighbour's car due to the three foot snow fall) and tells me he is going to shovel our walkway. A minute later he's still standing in the hallway leaning against the front door.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"What does a heart attack feel like?" he replies.

WTF?!

David, after being doubled over in incredible pain (around the heart area), seems to have the symptoms of angina rather than a heart attack (thanks Google). 25 minutes later, he's still having pain when inhaling, so I call the nurse hotline. They triage him and are not comfortable saying "Hey, don't worry. Head out to your meal." Instead they say, "Um, dude call 911."

"Really? Do I have to? I feel silly," David responds.

"Put your wife on."

"Hello?" I say.

"It's the classic middle age man over-exerts himself and then has a heart attack story. I wouldn't want you to ruin your Christmas or anything when your husband KICKS THE BUCKET. Maybe you should call 911 for him."

Mandy calls 911. Explains the situation. They ask to talk to David.

"Yep. Okay. Nope. No problem," and David hangs up. "They're sending the paramedics."

The fire engine, sirens blaring, blasts through the three feet of unplowed snow on our side street, which thrills Nate to death, but attracts, oh let's say THE ENTIRE NEIGHBOURHOOD.

Long story somewhat shorter, they give David oxygen, the pain subsides and then we hang around another 20 minutes waiting for the ambulance to arrive (protocol). The ambulance hasn't been able to make it down the street, so the paramedics are hiking in. They examine and tell David they think it's muscular, but not a heart attack. But they wouldn't know for sure unless he went in to the hospital. David declines, feeling somewhat embarrassed we have used up so many city resources.

I am happy we will still make it out the door on time to the neighbours for dinner. (Hey, a girl's gotta eat.)

5. Dec 24th 10pm, we leave neighbours to put kids to bed and begin assembling presents. Power goes out as I am reading instructions for Nate's Little Tykes kitchen that says we will require a power screwdriver to assemble it. And some battery sizes I don't have on hand.

David, trouper that he is, assembles the entire thing by flashlight and screws it together by hand. (I held the flashlight and coughed.) The man deserves a medal. And he didn't swear once, or lose his temper which, frankly, I would have done about 10x over. It only took us two hours.

6. Dec 25th, the power is still out and the kids open their gifts in the dark, hence no photos since there wasn't enough ambient light for my camera to cooperate. Nate is taken downstairs to the playroom to see his Santa gift (the kitchen), but revealing it by flashlight does not elicit the same squeals of delight we anticipated.

David drives around the north shore looking for a fast food drive thru that is open (has power, has employees on Christmas morning) in order to get us some breakfast and, more urgently, coffee.

7. Dec 25th 8pm, David discovers his 18 year old Macallan scotch bottle has broken and leaked all over the inside of the liquor cabinet. While he's cleaning it, he starts to "feel nauseous". Thirty minutes later he's in the full throws of massive body evacuation. Two hours later it's still going on and I decide to take him to the hospital. I call the neighbours (the dinner party people) to sit in our house with the sleeping kids. We make it to the hospital and are admitted rapidly since David had his 911 "heart attack" the previous day.

Turns out it's probably a virus (my gut feeling), and to confirm it, Nate pukes 5 times for the neighbour. We arrive home at 5:30am, enough time for me to get Dave in bed, relieve the neighbour and greet Jake who's up for the day.

8. Dec 26th. I do 17 loads of laundry (14 are puke loads), manage the two sickies and amuse Jake. On no sleep. While still hacking up a lung. Neighbours deliver a care package of "sick" food. I weep and kiss their feet. They look a little scared and beat a hasty retreat.

So you see, I'm done. Done with Dec 2008. Tomorrow, I'm emptying the better part of a bottle of champagne, eating a cheese fondue, playing Wii with the neighbours and throwing open the door to 2009.

Operation Snowman

Before I work up the energy to write about our, shall I say catastrophic, Christmas holiday, I'll take the time to post some wintery pics.

Yes, it's hard to believe that North Vancouver received 45 feet of snow (okay, three feet). It started the week before Christmas and was still falling on Boxing Day. Here are the boys reveling in the cold white stuff.

(We had a similar dump last year. If this keeps up, the city is going to have to buy more snowplows.)

One week ago, this car was rideable. Jake didn't quite know what to make of it:





Here's the patio. It got another 8 inches after this photo was taken:





Jake found being bundled up a bit of a challenge for walking:







Nate was in the thick of things, helping build the snowman:





David architected the snowman:




And Nate posed with the shovel used to smooth the edges. That's one fancy snowman!

Winter Wonderland

I've been more than a little remiss in posting lately, but I do have some riveting tree decorating shots to put up.

Vancouver just had another dump of snow last night, putting us up at over a foot in the last two weeks. The rest of Canada may laugh at us, but over here, we don't have these things call snow plows. At least, we don't have very many of them. So, roads become impassable relatively quickly. Which suits Chilco the abominable snow dog quite nicely. And all the neighbourhood kids who are busy sliding down their driveways into the street a la crazy carpet.

It's also considerably colder, and on that topic, check out my latest post over at Bloghers Act Canada.

I Never Was Great at Math

Today marks day three with no voice. Can I say that I have one very happy husband? (Don't worry, I'm saving it all up for the day my vocal cords decide to end their strike.)

I've decided to stay at home and avoid work because I'm supposed to be running performance reviews for the staff this week. I figured they didn't want me hoarsely croaking at them, while hacking up a lung and blowing the contents of my brain into my Kleenex box.

Which makes me wonder where all that snot comes from. Seriously, I've literally blown out the cubic volume of my head into three entire boxes of Kleenex (or Puffs, or Scotties), so since

a) I'm assuming there's still the same volume of pre-cold matter in my skull

and

b) there doesn't seem to be any stop to the flow of goop

then how does that compute? Is a greater than b? Is b a subset of a? Like I said, I was never good at theoretical math.

But I am digging sitting on the couch with no one around to need me. Maybe my luck will hold and I'll still be voiceless tomorrow.

At the very least, I'm keeping the Kleenex company in stock.

Tie? Socks? Fudge?

Struggling with some gift ideas? Have I got the eco-friendly solution for you!

Check it out here: http://www.bloghersactcanada.com/2008/12/how-can-you-give-minus-the-consumerism.html

You Know You're An Addict When

Last week I decided I was going to ditch the good life here in Canada to go live the good life in the Mayan Riviera. Except for one small problem.

They don't got a lot of wireless.

You know you have a small problem when your 5 star resort with 8 restaurants, 44 bars (okay maybe too many margueritas and pina coladas had me seeing quadruple), 6 pools, a spa, fitness club, tennis court and a bunch of other amenities slips a notch in your estimation. Because you have to go to the club room to use their computers to access the internet. Instead of from the deck chair on your own laptop where the pool side servers will bring free drinks on a regular basis.

Well, maybe I don't have much right to complain. The result, however, is that I did no computer to face time. My Google reader is maxed out. My blog remained post-free.

And in retrospect, I wouldn't have it another way.

Here's the view from our balcony (with it's own outdoor Jacuzzi):



Here's my staid husband:



Here's a little cheesy Mexico:



The requisite couple shot at a Mayan ruin called Tulum:



And the kicker of all "Here's a cheesy holiday pose" (but it was a GREAT experience nonetheless):