Upon a time, I was wild and carefree, living the life to see what was in it for me.
Then one day I became a mother, to a beautiful girl, that was the day I handed over my world.
She was just the first of 3, but she was the one who helped define me.
Now she is grown, graduated and gone on her own.
My only daughter my beauty my Sam I am,
The best big sister on the planet the princess of the fam.
A parents wish for the child is that they have a better life
Admittedly no matter how hard I tried I never got it quite right.
She is the person I wish I could become, the oldest the leader the number 1
Oh Sam I am, how do I love thee let me count the ways
Even though you have moved on and out I think of you every day.
My actions were wrong, my words are not right, and yes I understand that often we fight.
But know this my darling beautiful girl,
For you my precious love, I would truly move the world.
Thank you for making me me, and if anyone on this planet deserves the best of everything it is truly you.
Beyond words my darling and to the stars and back.
xo
Mom
aka
ThePeachy1
Keep your arms & legs inside the vehicle at all times. The safety bar will lift when the ride comes to a complete stop.
Showing posts with label sam I am. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sam I am. Show all posts
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
I got more pricks than A Porn Star also here's a pic of my beaver.
Ok this shit is getting old in a super fast way.
As most of you know on the 10th I drove myself to the E.R. like a big twatwaffle because I was having a heart attack. I never had a heart attack before and since I wasn't in a junk yard, and didn't have chest pains to be fair I wasn't 100% sure it was indeed a heart attack.
The Military in true fashion had 1 dude that finished the last couple weeks of school and he was playing golf or having an affair or whatever so they sent me to the civilian equivalent to a Gold fish Doctor where they cathed my heart on my daughter's 22nd birthday. I was awake for the beginning of the heart cath and I don't really recommend that for anyone except maybe a couple of those hyena bitches from "The View",
Click here and read - A nut in the Hand
anyway I wrote about it here, because I grabbed the Italian GoldFish Doctor by the nutsack.. He prescribed a medicine and we pretty much left thinking I had dodge another bullet and was rocking the heart with the kick butt sexy brain and it was all just gravy. Went to daughters grad, worked overtime trying to make up some funds, because MENSA man can't balance a budget any more than he can shave hair off a moldy dish he leaves laying in the sink for 3 days. Then went and watched the prince rock his county baseball tournament. Each day I got more and more tired. The fatigue was kicking my butt. But my days needed to be longer, going from 17- 19 to 21 hours. I had to catch up, I was becoming slower so my days had to become longer. I was tearing it up like a herd of turtles.
Ok actually I couldn't take more than 10 steps without panting like a freaking fat hog who just ran a 10 k with a hoho on a stick in front of her face. I saw my PCM ( which means Primary Care Physician even when they aren't always physicians, and most of the time they don't really care. I expressed to her like 15 times that I was extremely exhausted and it was getting worse, and I was worried. But my nearly a Doctor if she went to school for 10 more years and was over 17 years old said that's what happens with stress ( wtf you turd?) so I guess I am ok right? The only stress I have is the inability to communicate with you jackholes.
Long story short between they screwed up meds, and me trying to catch up from the time out from the heart attack ( which I called an event last week so as to play it down) and the "almost nearly a doctor" blowing me off, I almost nearly ate dirt in a permanent fashion this past weekend.
Thankfully the droid was home. I took a nap, ( rarely happens) on Saturday because I am in a state of constant exhaustion. I woke up with back pain. ONLY. However, since I have been in a state of permanent exhaustion he pulled the 'FUCK THIS" card, and took me to the Emergency room.
They scooted me straight back to the E.R. where my first labs and EKG came back awesome but they admitted me because it can take up to 12 hours for the Troponin ( or whatever enzime shows in your blood that you had the heart attack) to show up. Mind you neither time did I have chest pains.
Click here So you don't die, read this almost PSA by me This time I didn't even have the jaw pain or sweats, or shakies, or dizzies, or nothing. But the Droid was here, and he doesn't feel like wearing a tie to a funeral or cooking for the prince until he's 18 if I die so he is protecting his investment so he made me go.
They admitted me, and requested my records from the other civilian/ Goldfish hospital/doctor/popped nut Italian hottie guy.
Come to find out, it I win the bet against the Droid. I do have a freak heart. So nee nur. Unfortunately it's nearly as jacked up as my brain, which is as whiggidy whack as my attitude. I have super small aterieries, and some type of spasm issue which I guess makes me a spaz.
INSERT WORD AWESOME HERE- ___________________________________--
Because I am actually a freaking spaz.
The medicine they gave me the Goldfish Dr messed up and shouldn't have given me because I have low BP and low heart rate and dude gave me stuff to lower it. That will teach me to pop a Dr's nut YO. Yeah he may have been sitting on frozen peas but I kept eating tile flooring and stuff. Then the military Docs kept blowing me off, you know cause, I don't look or act sick. Apparently the hospital is based on theatrical abilities not medical issues.
So I spent my weekend in the Military hospital finding out the Goldfish people knew my heart was 47 levels of jacked up, yet they did nothing other than give me a medicine that could have killed me. The PCM ( nearly almost a real doctor who is looking forward to being able to vote next year and drink in a couple years) blew me and my complaints off even though she was handed the medicine.
My care is now handed over to a team of actual Dr's in Internal Medicine and Genetics. My bloodwork was drawn every 2 hours, I am on 5 new medicines which brings my daily total to 23. This time I am actually going to listen and be on bed rest. Because in the grand scheme of things I would rather be dead broke then just dead. I have been digging in the couch cushions broke before. Hell I have been, "wish I owned a couch!" broke before, so it's no biggie. Alive is so much more cool. I spent 2 years of my life adjusting to this crazy brain crap and yesterday I have coronary artery disease, some blockages, some spasms, some super small arteries, I think they found out that the smurfs butt rocking Gargamel live in my heart who knows.
Your tweets, dm's, facebook posts, and emails mean a LOT. Honestly I adore all of you crazy folks.
I have just as much hair on the dishes in my sink as I do on my floors. I am not spending much time on facebook or twitter. I miss everyone but I really want to dance at my daughters wedding one day, hold my yet to be dreamt up grandchildren and watch the prince who is 10 graduate. Those things are far off in the future and damn it I intend to be here. They say this shortens my life, whatever, they told my dad in 1987 he had 6 months.
So the entire " lifes a journey not a job thing, take it serious folks, rock every day, and who gives a crap if your socks don't match, or you spilled that lunch down the front of your shirt. Rock it !
xo
PEACH OUT
** Due to popular demand to see my 1/2 shave monkey/ beaver/groin just like the 80's in Daytona totally free of charge. These bruises were just from the first hospital stay. honestly now I look even more like Violet Beauregaurde, it's very sexy. Very Very Sexy.
As most of you know on the 10th I drove myself to the E.R. like a big twatwaffle because I was having a heart attack. I never had a heart attack before and since I wasn't in a junk yard, and didn't have chest pains to be fair I wasn't 100% sure it was indeed a heart attack.
The Military in true fashion had 1 dude that finished the last couple weeks of school and he was playing golf or having an affair or whatever so they sent me to the civilian equivalent to a Gold fish Doctor where they cathed my heart on my daughter's 22nd birthday. I was awake for the beginning of the heart cath and I don't really recommend that for anyone except maybe a couple of those hyena bitches from "The View",
Click here and read - A nut in the Hand
anyway I wrote about it here, because I grabbed the Italian GoldFish Doctor by the nutsack.. He prescribed a medicine and we pretty much left thinking I had dodge another bullet and was rocking the heart with the kick butt sexy brain and it was all just gravy. Went to daughters grad, worked overtime trying to make up some funds, because MENSA man can't balance a budget any more than he can shave hair off a moldy dish he leaves laying in the sink for 3 days. Then went and watched the prince rock his county baseball tournament. Each day I got more and more tired. The fatigue was kicking my butt. But my days needed to be longer, going from 17- 19 to 21 hours. I had to catch up, I was becoming slower so my days had to become longer. I was tearing it up like a herd of turtles.
Ok actually I couldn't take more than 10 steps without panting like a freaking fat hog who just ran a 10 k with a hoho on a stick in front of her face. I saw my PCM ( which means Primary Care Physician even when they aren't always physicians, and most of the time they don't really care. I expressed to her like 15 times that I was extremely exhausted and it was getting worse, and I was worried. But my nearly a Doctor if she went to school for 10 more years and was over 17 years old said that's what happens with stress ( wtf you turd?) so I guess I am ok right? The only stress I have is the inability to communicate with you jackholes.
Long story short between they screwed up meds, and me trying to catch up from the time out from the heart attack ( which I called an event last week so as to play it down) and the "almost nearly a doctor" blowing me off, I almost nearly ate dirt in a permanent fashion this past weekend.
Thankfully the droid was home. I took a nap, ( rarely happens) on Saturday because I am in a state of constant exhaustion. I woke up with back pain. ONLY. However, since I have been in a state of permanent exhaustion he pulled the 'FUCK THIS" card, and took me to the Emergency room.
They scooted me straight back to the E.R. where my first labs and EKG came back awesome but they admitted me because it can take up to 12 hours for the Troponin ( or whatever enzime shows in your blood that you had the heart attack) to show up. Mind you neither time did I have chest pains.
Click here So you don't die, read this almost PSA by me This time I didn't even have the jaw pain or sweats, or shakies, or dizzies, or nothing. But the Droid was here, and he doesn't feel like wearing a tie to a funeral or cooking for the prince until he's 18 if I die so he is protecting his investment so he made me go.
They admitted me, and requested my records from the other civilian/ Goldfish hospital/doctor/popped nut Italian hottie guy.
Come to find out, it I win the bet against the Droid. I do have a freak heart. So nee nur. Unfortunately it's nearly as jacked up as my brain, which is as whiggidy whack as my attitude. I have super small aterieries, and some type of spasm issue which I guess makes me a spaz.
INSERT WORD AWESOME HERE- ___________________________________--
Because I am actually a freaking spaz.
The medicine they gave me the Goldfish Dr messed up and shouldn't have given me because I have low BP and low heart rate and dude gave me stuff to lower it. That will teach me to pop a Dr's nut YO. Yeah he may have been sitting on frozen peas but I kept eating tile flooring and stuff. Then the military Docs kept blowing me off, you know cause, I don't look or act sick. Apparently the hospital is based on theatrical abilities not medical issues.
So I spent my weekend in the Military hospital finding out the Goldfish people knew my heart was 47 levels of jacked up, yet they did nothing other than give me a medicine that could have killed me. The PCM ( nearly almost a real doctor who is looking forward to being able to vote next year and drink in a couple years) blew me and my complaints off even though she was handed the medicine.
My care is now handed over to a team of actual Dr's in Internal Medicine and Genetics. My bloodwork was drawn every 2 hours, I am on 5 new medicines which brings my daily total to 23. This time I am actually going to listen and be on bed rest. Because in the grand scheme of things I would rather be dead broke then just dead. I have been digging in the couch cushions broke before. Hell I have been, "wish I owned a couch!" broke before, so it's no biggie. Alive is so much more cool. I spent 2 years of my life adjusting to this crazy brain crap and yesterday I have coronary artery disease, some blockages, some spasms, some super small arteries, I think they found out that the smurfs butt rocking Gargamel live in my heart who knows.
Your tweets, dm's, facebook posts, and emails mean a LOT. Honestly I adore all of you crazy folks.
I have just as much hair on the dishes in my sink as I do on my floors. I am not spending much time on facebook or twitter. I miss everyone but I really want to dance at my daughters wedding one day, hold my yet to be dreamt up grandchildren and watch the prince who is 10 graduate. Those things are far off in the future and damn it I intend to be here. They say this shortens my life, whatever, they told my dad in 1987 he had 6 months.
So the entire " lifes a journey not a job thing, take it serious folks, rock every day, and who gives a crap if your socks don't match, or you spilled that lunch down the front of your shirt. Rock it !
xo
PEACH OUT
** Due to popular demand to see my 1/2 shave monkey/ beaver/groin just like the 80's in Daytona totally free of charge. These bruises were just from the first hospital stay. honestly now I look even more like Violet Beauregaurde, it's very sexy. Very Very Sexy.
Don't you wish your Beaver was hot like me. doncha, doncha..
Sunday, May 15, 2011
A nut in the hand is better than 2 in the Bush
You know what's NOT awesome? A fucking heart attack. Oh yeah other things suck, like a flat tire, being late for work or a speeding ticket. But I have to tell you guys, a heart attack ranks right up there with an IRS anal probing and shit.
Here's a quick run down.
Here's a quick run down.
- Tuesday Morning I had a heard attack.
- I drove myself to the E.R. after I posted, answered emails, showered, fed the dogs, and moved the clothes to the dryer.
- The military E.R. Dr is a fucking douche and actually had the fucking balls to say that since I drove myself, walked in, and was telling jokes that he didn't think I had a heart attack it was probably a panic attack. ( do people tell jokes when they have panic attacks? I ask since I have never had one and should know in case I do have one so I don't bother any cocky E.R. Doctors.)
- 5 minutes later the same Dr was helping cut off my clothes when my fucking blood work and tests showed I had a heart attack, now whose panicking bitch.
- The Military base has a lot of Dr's but unfortunately only 1 of their heart Doctors went to the last 2 weeks of school, and he happened to be on vacation. Go fucking figure.
- The ambulance that came to take me to Civilian hospital was super cool, but the driver had a horrible stutter and The Prince thought the ambulance guy was kidding and kept giggling and I had an O2 mask on and an IV so I couldn't tell him to stop or grab him and it was like my husband didn't notice. So now I have to fucking make cookies or shit for that poor ambulance guy, even though he didn't say anything I was like FUCK, I can't die cause The Prince has no clue he's being totally NON PC right now. Damn it.
- I should have eaten dinner Monday night or breakfast Tuesday morning before I went to the E.R. because I was NPO until Wednesday night and that sucked big and hard.
- Wednesday at noon I met my heart surgeon he was like 5'4 and Italian, and seemed super cool, he said he was sure my heart was awesome and he was just going to drive the camera up to take a peak. I know that was code for I want to see if your carpet matches your drapes.
- I have a weakness for Italians. So I was like sure baby, I mean Dr Olive whatevs.. wink wink.
- I tweeted- "gotta go I am going down"
- apparently when people know you are in the hospital for a heart attack, you shouldn't use the words, "I'm going down"... it caused quite the freak out. whoops, my bad.
- I was totally fucking awake in the cath lab.
- I told them I was totally fucking awake in the cath lab
- All 3 nurses and the anesthesiologist ignored me when I told them repeatedly I was awake in the cath lab.
- The have clear plastic things that come up over your arms from the shoulder down to your wrists on the table so that you can't move them in the cath lab.
- Those would work great if you weren't awake in the cath lab.
- I screamed in the cath lab when they clamped the drape to my stomach skin before they cathed my heart in the cath lab because I was FUCKING AWAKE.
- When the little Italian Dr walked up to my right side to start the procedure in the Cath lab I mentioned I was awake and even said he didn't need to cath my heart because if I had a heart condition I would be having a FUCKING HEART ATTACK SINCE I WAS FUCKING AWAKE IN THE CATH LAB.
- I felt the Dr grab up a chunk of my groin near my lovely lady bump and I said hey baby I been telling your people I am wide freaking awake here, please don't cut me I can feel everything.
- then he cut me and I was wide awake.
- The clear plastic things to hold your arms down probably sounded like a good idea in theory.
- The Dr screamed, " She's got me"
- The nurse screamed it's not sterile.
- The anesthesiologist said, "wait, she's awake"
- No fucking shit home pickle. I hope the heart Dr punched the anesthesiologist in the dick.
- Right after he took the frozen peas off his popped nut.
- I hope he already has kids, if not, sorry man, but you shouldn't cut a bitches groin until she is knocked out. That hurts. mkay?
- I lived. I'm home. Surgery was on my daughter Sam-I-am's Birthday, then she Graduated from her University on Friday, ( of course I went, it totally rhymes with complete bedrest)
- Droid has restricted my online time, yet still wants clean clothes and food, I can type from bed... somethings seriously wrong with this picture.
That's it. Now you know. Thanks to all who loved up on me and my bruised groin and shit..... you rock.
XO
PEACH OUT
**********************************************
Here are some of the get well posts/cards I have gotten, thanks guys, ya rock.
JC Little of @littleanimation http://www.theanimatedwoman.com/2011/05/hearts4peachy.html
Absence of Alternatives of @SubWow
http://absenceofalternatives.com/2011/05/a-love-song-for-sandi.html
The ReckMonster of @ReckMonster http://michellelcsw.blogspot.com/2011/05/quick-peachy-shout-out.html
Vicki of @VickiLikesFrogs http://www.theglitterfrog.com/2011/05/get-well-soon-sandi.html
Holly of @MidWesternMamaH http://www.midwesternmamah.com/2011/05/for-fellow-blogger-prayers-postitive.html
JC Little of @littleanimation http://www.theanimatedwoman.com/2011/05/hearts4peachy.html
Absence of Alternatives of @SubWow
http://absenceofalternatives.com/2011/05/a-love-song-for-sandi.html
The ReckMonster of @ReckMonster http://michellelcsw.blogspot.com/2011/05/quick-peachy-shout-out.html
Vicki of @VickiLikesFrogs http://www.theglitterfrog.com/2011/05/get-well-soon-sandi.html
Holly of @MidWesternMamaH http://www.midwesternmamah.com/2011/05/for-fellow-blogger-prayers-postitive.html
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Make my ATM talk dirty to me.- SAM I AM
In honor of the fact that my first born gets her 3rd degree ( which means the kid has shit tons of debt in a crappy economy and it's all my fault for making her go to college) THIS FREAKING FRIDAY! I thought it would be super cool to bring back some posts from her.
So here, like it, love it, revel in her fucking genius. She didn't learn this shit in college people. Also tomorrow is her birthday. Send her money, and super powers.
*****************
So there I was for the first time in my life SPEECHLESS....
See my 21 year old daughter had come home from college for a couple days, and we had to run by the banks for her. Yes I said the banks. Because apparently not only is my daughter a better person, a smarter person, a more sober person, she is also better with money, so much better that she uses 3 banks. Yes 21, putting herself thru college, and 3 banks. All with money in them? WTH? How did this happen? I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth here people, I support her success whole heartedly I mean she is the one who will pick out and probably pay for my nursing home in a few years.
I don't know maybe she took my philosophy on how to be an adult, " just do the opposite of your parents". It seemed to work for me. I mean I got a kid in college, paying her own way legally and stuff and wow, she has all these bank accounts and no debt.. ( I know again with the WTH?).
If you have been reading along you have seen my praises about my daughter, and how she is so on track with the non drinking and non dating and not wanting to get distracted until she is done with college and secure with herself and blah blah blah, basically the complete opposite of everything I did. Which was advance drinking 303, right before I changed majors 3 kabillion and five times before dropping out to become a proam drinker just a mere semester prior to the degree. But alas life on the road was too much and I settled down.
So as we pulled up to the last bank she didn't need to go in she used the ATM and it asked her enough questions to determine the color of her under garments and she was getting steamed. Then it took too long to print out the receipt. She the did the unthinkable as she jerked the harmless little piece of paper out. She cursed at the ATM.
GASP
I said in my best Mommy voice, " Honey you know you're on tape when you use those ATM's ?"
She looked at me with a look like I had just insulted her intelligance then turned to the machine and started.
" To whoever is watching this. As much as I pay you to babysit my money, as much as I pay you in your fees, you need to know this. I cussed at your machine. I didn't punch it, but I can. As much of my money as you suck away without providing me at the very least a human with a substandard IQ to deal with I should be able to slap your machine around, and your machine should talk dirty to me, instead of just words on a screen I should get to select the voice and accent and an option to choose the level of filth I complete my financial transaction in. In fact, I want to feel like I need a drink when I leave this ATM, I want it to be so Raunchy my ATM has a safe word. That would be customer service worth paying for."
She then drove away as if nothing had just happened.
Ok she is totally my daughter... and I want to be her when I grow up.
That's my girl.
PEACH OUT !
So here, like it, love it, revel in her fucking genius. She didn't learn this shit in college people. Also tomorrow is her birthday. Send her money, and super powers.
*****************
So there I was for the first time in my life SPEECHLESS....
See my 21 year old daughter had come home from college for a couple days, and we had to run by the banks for her. Yes I said the banks. Because apparently not only is my daughter a better person, a smarter person, a more sober person, she is also better with money, so much better that she uses 3 banks. Yes 21, putting herself thru college, and 3 banks. All with money in them? WTH? How did this happen? I am not looking a gift horse in the mouth here people, I support her success whole heartedly I mean she is the one who will pick out and probably pay for my nursing home in a few years.
I don't know maybe she took my philosophy on how to be an adult, " just do the opposite of your parents". It seemed to work for me. I mean I got a kid in college, paying her own way legally and stuff and wow, she has all these bank accounts and no debt.. ( I know again with the WTH?).
If you have been reading along you have seen my praises about my daughter, and how she is so on track with the non drinking and non dating and not wanting to get distracted until she is done with college and secure with herself and blah blah blah, basically the complete opposite of everything I did. Which was advance drinking 303, right before I changed majors 3 kabillion and five times before dropping out to become a proam drinker just a mere semester prior to the degree. But alas life on the road was too much and I settled down.
So as we pulled up to the last bank she didn't need to go in she used the ATM and it asked her enough questions to determine the color of her under garments and she was getting steamed. Then it took too long to print out the receipt. She the did the unthinkable as she jerked the harmless little piece of paper out. She cursed at the ATM.
GASP
I said in my best Mommy voice, " Honey you know you're on tape when you use those ATM's ?"
She looked at me with a look like I had just insulted her intelligance then turned to the machine and started.
" To whoever is watching this. As much as I pay you to babysit my money, as much as I pay you in your fees, you need to know this. I cussed at your machine. I didn't punch it, but I can. As much of my money as you suck away without providing me at the very least a human with a substandard IQ to deal with I should be able to slap your machine around, and your machine should talk dirty to me, instead of just words on a screen I should get to select the voice and accent and an option to choose the level of filth I complete my financial transaction in. In fact, I want to feel like I need a drink when I leave this ATM, I want it to be so Raunchy my ATM has a safe word. That would be customer service worth paying for."
She then drove away as if nothing had just happened.
Ok she is totally my daughter... and I want to be her when I grow up.
That's my girl.
PEACH OUT !
Friday, March 4, 2011
Mardi Gras- throw me what?
| In honor of me being all kinds of I throw you this old guest post by my awesome non blogging daughter. Because she took this pic ( sans hat) on Bourbon Street in Nawlins.  |
| Meet my Daughter Sam who totally wrote todays post since she is FREAKING AWESOME ! |
Sam I am,
I am Sam,
I hate your fucking Green Eggs and Spam,
Give me biscuits and Strawberry Jam,
a Honey Glazed Ham,
an Oil Slicked Man
One or Two?
I'll have 3
I love excess, excessively,
and revelry
and sodomy,
OH SHIT NOT THAT!
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?
crap I don't know my brain must be shrinking
that or sinking,
I think it's a side effect of genetic linking,
that and probably too much drinking.
What? Go away! You want another?
If you're looking for spankings please talk to my mother.
XO
SAM I AM AKA DR ABUSE
this post brought to you from the scary yet brilliant mind of Sam I am. AKA my 21 year old daughter in College with a major in psychology. FLAME about dirty ATM's and Safe words.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
My daughter fills in- Sam I am by Dr. Abuse
|
| Meet my Daughter Sam who totally wrote todays post since she is FREAKING AWESOME ! |
Sam I am,
I am Sam,
I hate your fucking Green Eggs and Spam,
Give me biscuits and Strawberry Jam,
a Honey Glazed Ham,
an Oil Slicked Man
One or Two?
I'll have 3
I love excess, excessively,
and revelry
and sodomy,
OH SHIT NOT THAT!
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?
crap I don't know my brain must be shrinking
that or sinking,
I think it's a side effect of genetic linking,
that and probably too much drinking.
What? Go away! You want another?
If you're looking for spankings please talk to my mother.
XO
SAM I AM AKA DR ABUSE
this post brought to you from the scary yet brilliant mind of Sam I am. AKA my 21 year old daughter in College with a major in psychology. If you want to read my more about my daughter Sam I am she's spattered all over my other blog. www.BeingPeachy.com including her infamous FLAME about dirty ATM's and Safe words.
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