A/N: In case you haven't figured it out yet, some names have been changed
to protect the innocent. Some names have not been changed, but that doesn't
mean you are no longer innocent, just that I got tired of making up fake
names for real people. If you see someone who looks like you and talks like
you but isn't named after you, it probably IS you. But then, it might not
be you either. Who can tell?
Chapter 10 More Than A Belly Full
Since all they're doing at this point is sitting around staring at the walls while they wait to spring me from this joint, Yes Dear, Lil' Pip, and Legolas decide to visit the hospital gift shop. Legolas still hasn't had his hamburger, so they decide to hit the cafeteria once again on the way back.
While they're gone, I have a nice, good, quiet nap topped off with a visit from my friendly Emergency Room physician, Dr. Baughman. She says that when the gang comes back, I can go home, providing I agree to see a specialist about my problem in the morning. She gives me the name and number of a local urology group, and tells me if I need to come back during the night it's ok to do so.
Lisa comes back in to take out my IV, and she gives me a tiny little white colander-looking thing to take home with me. It's a little personal strainer, so that I can try and catch the stone. If I can catch it, then they'll know for sure it's out and gone.
It isn't long before I hear footsteps approaching my bed. I look up to find the three gift and food hunters standing at the foot of the stretcher. Lil' Pip is scowling, Yes Dear is smirking contentedly, and Legolas is rubbing his belly the same way I used to when I was eight months along with Lil' Pip.
"What's going on?" I inquire.
There is a very pregnant pause. Yes Dear looks out the door and down the hallway, Lil' Pip continues to scowl at Legolas, and the Prance looks down at his rounded belly, firmly supported for the time being with a hand on each side.
"Well?"
"I theenk dey hav vary guud haembuergrz hear," says a quite satiated Prance.
"Good French fries too, huh Legolas?" prods Yes Dear. There's nothing innocent about the way it's phrased, though he tries to make it sound honest enough.
"Yaeh, da Freench fryz ar guud tuu," remarks the Prance, continuing to rub as he looks up to meet my gaze.
"Go on," pushes Lil' Pip, giving Legolas an elbow in the ribs. "Tell her what you did this time."
"Buet I deedn't due enithaeng!" moans Prance Helpful.
Yeah, and I've got some swampland in Arizona I'll sell you real cheap too. It's a good place to get rid of your allergies.
When they get finished dickering with each other, Lil' Pip finally spills that our Prance decided the burgers and fries were the most delicious thing he'd tasted since arriving in Modren-erth, and by the time he finally decided to call it quits on the evening meal, his tally of hamburgers, fries, and the appropriate condiments totaled four orders of each. Not only that, but he topped that off with a slice of homemade apple pie a la mode and a piece of 'Grandma's Chocolate Cake'.
Geez, no wonder he's rubbing like he's only one month from delivery. It'll take him a month just to DIGEST all of that.
"I haed Mowntin Deuw tu dreenk," he adds, his hand going round and round on his pot belly. "U foergot dat."
"Take me home," I plead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night once again passes uneventfully. I wish I could say the same for the kidney stone. No longer the severe pressure and cramping pain, today I have a nagging little sharp spot on the front of my right lower belly.
Yes Dear and Legolas drive me to my appointment with the urologist while Lil' Pip is at school. The other patients in the waiting room get irritated at me because I'm pacing the floor. Not because I'm nervous, mind you - I have a degree in one of the medical support specialties and I'm quite familiar and comfortable in a doctor's office. It's actually a symptom used to properly diagnose a kidney stone versus something like appendicitis. You see, the appendicitis patient holds rigidly still, having more pain when she moves around. The kidney stone patient can't find a comfortable position to save herself, and moves about constantly. We're restless, irritable, grumpy. . . everything you really don't want to have to deal with in a person having pain. In short, we ARE a pain.
Finally, the nurse calls my name to come to the back. She directs me to the bathroom first to leave my customary sample. Legolas stands outside the door, making his little grunts of disgust and his animated faces at how vile he finds the whole idea of peeing in a little cup. Yes Dear ignores us both, perusing the latest copy of "Men's Health".
I've brought my X-rays from the hospital, and when my doctor (I'll call him Dr. Henry) comes in, he shows the three of us the cause of all my woes. Sitting in the very end part of the little tube called the ureter that runs from my right kidney to my bladder, wedged in tight as a tick, is a little round white spot. A calcification, if you will, for clarification. The lowly kidney stone.
"Well," I announce, quite pleased that someone has finally verified that I'm NOT making all of this up, "only an inch to go, right Doc?"
Dr. Henry doesn't look too pleased. He sits and thinks a moment, clears his throat, gets a little closer to the X-ray view box, flips through my chart, and clears his throat again. About the time I'm starting to think he's charging by the hour, he announces, "Well, that's the narrowest part."
Yeah, but it's the shortest part. I've done the long haul already, having managed to move the little rock-like object about a foot already, with what looks to me like only about one measly inch to go. From previous experiences, I know that once the stone gets to the bladder, everything's enlarged enough to be home free.
"What do you want to do?" Dr. Henry asks.
I glance at Yes Dear. Frankly, I thought we were paying Dr. Henry to tell ME what to do, not vice versa. Yes Dear shrugs his shoulders and reaches over to whack Legolas, who is staring unabashedly at the pictures of human anatomy on the walls.
"Knock it off, "I hear my hubby whisper.
"Soerrie," mumbles the Prance.
"I want to be done with this whole adventure," I answer. "I just want to pass the little sucker and get on with my life."
Dr. Henry just sits on his chair and looks at me.
Yes Dear comes to the rescue. "Does she have a decent chance to pass it, Doc?" he asks.
Dr. Henry sits a minute more, and then looks again at the X-ray hanging on the view box. "Well," he says, "it's a borderline stone."
"Oh, good!" I hear myself say. One more good battle with a bit of pain involved, and I can push the little sucker right over the borderline and be done with it. Just like I did during my last contraction when I was having Lil' Pip.
Yes Dear hears it differently, of course. That's why I bring him to these things. "What do you mean by 'borderline'?" he inquires.
"Well," Dr. Henry begins, "the stone would measure about six millimeters in size. Most of the stones that pass on their own are six millimeters or less. Most that pass do so within the first 48 hours."
"Does that mean she more likely needs surgery?" asks the ever practical better half of me. I just give him a glare. Been there and done that once before for a stone, and not anywhere keen on doing it again. EVER.
Dr. Henry just sits on his little chair and looks at me.
I glance over at the Prance, since he's being awfully quiet. He's currently comparing my own anatomy on the X-ray with the anatomically correct drawings on the wall.
"Will you KNOCK IT OFF!!!" I snap.
"Oeh.. Soerrie, al!" he apologizes.
Finally, Dr. Henry decides the 'making a decision' ball is in his court. "I think you could try on your own for a few more days, if you want to.," he says.
"Good enough," I say, hopping down from the exam table.
". . .but I only do surgery on Mondays, so I think we should go ahead and schedule you for the pre-op visit at the hospital for your blood work and things," he concludes.
Right. Like I am so gonna need that after I go straight home and drink a lake full of water and spend the rest of the evening pushing to get this little homemade jewel out.
"Sure," I hear my voice say.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, the day of my pre-op appointment finally arrives. I wish I could say the same thing about the kidney stone.
Legolas and I head over to the hospital to my interview with the surgery team and to get my blood work done. I pull into the parking lot and find a space in the back row of the lot. Hefting my bookbag full of papers (I quit carrying a purse some time ago), the Prance and I make our way to the revolving door at the front of the building.
On the way, Legolas develops a really strange cadence to his walking pattern. Sort of a step-step-step-PAUSE-head toss, step-step-step-PAUSE- head toss. . . . As we reach the revolving door, I have to stop as the next wing moves by before I can enter, and when I do, Prance Helpful runs smack into me. That's when I realize he's been preening himself in the mirrored glass lining the front of the hospital lobby.
Of course, from his point of view outside the lobby, all he sees in the glass is his own reflection, beautiful as it may be. Inside the lobby, the people waiting on the other side of the glass are treated to a few last minute elven beauty techniques. I'm just thankful he doesn't adjust anything other than his hair.
I drag him through the entrance as the next wing of the revolving door passes. As we step into the lobby, we're greeted by a rousing chorus of "Hey, Legolas!"
The Emergency Room desk clerk and two of the ER nurses are waving on the right. The three ladies from the Registration staff are waving on the left. Sitting at the desk directly in front of us is a little gray-haired lady wearing a pink hospital volunteer coat, and standing behind the wheelchair parked beside her is a gray-headed man wearing a matching outfit. Together and on cue, exactly five seconds behind the previous chorus, they speak too.
"Hello, Legolas!" they chime in harmony, his voice just a bit deeper but a perfect complement to her own soprano.
"Welcome!" adds the man.
I begin to wonder just how smashed I was the last two times we were here. I don't know any of these folks from Adam, and right now it looks like we've just entered the monthly meeting of our local chapter of the Legolas Greenleaf Fan Club. Admirers of all ages accepted.
"Hullo, eberybuddie!" exclaims the Prance, smiling and waving like he's the next mayoral candidate. He announces to the gathering, "I browt al fur her bluud taest!" and without a pause he adds, "She'z bean dreenkin an pueshin, buet she'z steel all stoeppd uep!"
Geez. Thanks to Prance Helpful, now the whole waiting room thinks I'm an alcoholic pregnant woman with some kind of terrible bowel obstruction.
"I have an appointment for a pre-op workup," I whisper to the lady in the pink volunteer coat.
"Sign in right here, dear," she answers. "I'll let the registration staff know you're here."
Somehow I think that's already been taken care of.
There's a bit of commotion happening at the three little cubbyhole desks in the Registration department. From here it looks a bit like there's some twisted form of the rock-scissors-paper game going on. The woman with the spiral-permed dirty blonde hair suddenly squeals loudly and raises her hand in the air in a victory salute. She then moves to the lobby side of the registration desk and pilfers the chair from her co-worker's space, squeezing it into the tiny space beside the one already in front of her own cubicle. She makes her way back behind the desk and sits in her chair before smiling and nodding to the gray-headed volunteer running the sign-in table.
"I think Stacy's ready for you now," the volunteer lady announces with a bright smile.
"Id wuz a plaezure eggspearienceeng ur hoespetalitee," purrs the Prance, taking the gray-haired lady's hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.
"Oh, think nothing of it!" blushes the volunteer lady.
He bows to the gray-haired man before following me over to sit in the chair on Stacy's right, leaving the one on the left for me. He stands royally and patiently until Stacy invites us both to sit down. Such character.
Or is that such A character?
I am a bit surprised at the first words out of his mouth. "Hoew'z da baybee, Mees Stacy?" he asks.
She rubs her so far non-existent belly and replies, "Oh, how thoughtful of you, Legolas! The baby is doing fine, thank you for asking." She tosses a coquettish smile at him, and for a second there I wonder just how it is he has firsthand knowledge of the pregnancy. She can't be even 2 months along yet.
Then she returns the subject at hand to my current need of the hospital and its services. She takes my insurance information and updates my statistical record-type things, then hands me a mass of papers to sign. So far nothing I didn't expect and haven't done before. Then the clincher.
"Do you have a Living Will and a Power of Attorney?"
My jaw drops. I hadn't even considered it. I mean, who dies while having a kidney stone removed? It's not even considered true surgery, more of just a procedure. Like an X-ray, or having your blood drawn.
I glance over at Legolas. Who's gonna take care of him if something happens to me?
I manage to answer her without giving away my sudden apprehension. I don't want Legolas to pick up on my newfound nervousness. He's sitting there quietly beside me, diligently trying to peruse the contract I have just signed, trying to make heads or tails of the tiny print.
"Dis iz wurse dan da wonz my adar haz tu deel wid," he scowls.
Stacy directs us back to the X-ray department first for an up-to-date film, and then says I'll need to go for my blood work from there. She stands and shakes my hand, then leans across the desk and gets a hug from Prance Helpful.
Yep, I'm really starting to wonder about the two of them.
We make our way past the ER desk and down the long hallway. Prance Helpful opens all the doors for me on the way, making sure to rub his hands together before sweeping them elegantly over the hydraulic opener in the top corner of each one.
When we get to X-ray, he swaggers over to the desk and asks the receptionist, "Iz Mees Shannon wurkeen diz fien moerneen?"
"Not today," comes her reply.
"Hoew abot Mees Robin?" he inquires politely.
"No, she worked yesterday," says the receptionist.
He pauses a minute, considering this news quietly while trying to suppress his obvious disappointment. Finally, he leans over the desk, a touch of worry on his face, and whispers, "Hoew abot dat laydee wid da niecely manakurd bluud-read feengurnalez?"
"Oh, yes, Vickie's here," she smiles at him, nodding.
He gulps.
We take our places in the tiny radiology waiting room, and Prance Helpful decides he will stay parked in place in his chair as soon as he sees it's Vickie of the blood-red nicely manicured fingernails that calls for me. He squirms a bit as she looks him over.
"Do I know you?" she inquires, cocking her head and eyeballing him suspiciously.
"I doen't theenk soe," he blushes, ducking his head and sliding down in the chair. Thankfully, she drops it and starts off down the hallway before I can try to introduce him.
A few minutes later I'm back in the waiting room where I find Prance Helpful straightening up the magazines and pushing the chairs back against the wall, lining the armrests up perfectly. Thinking everything has gone way too smoothly, I find myself wondering what other mischief he has gotten into in my absence. When I pass the receptionist, I discover what's been keeping him busy.
Her straight blonde hair, which had been hanging loosely from her head down to mid-shoulder, is now elaborately braided in an elven child's braid, similar to our own French braiding but even more intricate.
"Thanks, Legolas!" she calls to him, waving.
"My plaeshure, Mees Debbie!" he yells back.
On to the lab. We enter a tiny little room with two phlebotomists and two tiny chairs. I take my place in the one that is straight back against the wall while Legolas chooses to stand at the door. There's the usual discussion about my lab card that gives me discounted lab work, and while the ladies confer about whether or not my report will come back soon enough, one of them hands me the usual and motions toward the door in the corner.
Legolas makes faces like he's just eaten a raw persimmon. Or maybe a kosher dill pickle after sucking on a lemon. Hard to describe that particular look really. Elven disgust is so remarkably displayed when allowed to crack the surface of that stoic attitude he usually has.
After leaving my urine sample on the shelf behind the little door on the wall in the bathroom, I come back to take my place in the bloodletting chair. Unfortunately for me, the phlebotomist picks a spot to stick me that is a bit on the painful side, making me jump in the chair when she inserts the needle this time. She attaches the first of the four tubes that she will take of my blood, and I watch as the deep red liquid flows to fill the first tube. She pops that one out of the holder and pushes the second one on. That's when I hear it.
It's the sound of a tall, lithe, athletic body sliding down a door to the floor.
"Annie, we got ourselves a fainter," says the other phlebotomist in a very calm, very cool manner. She goes over to the Prance and, placing her latex covered hand behind his head, slowly turns him and drops the rest of him to lie on the floor. She stands back up and moves to take her place between his splayed feet, lifting them up onto her tiny shoulders and getting his legs above his heart level.
Annie doesn't even look back at what's happening. She finishes tube two and connects tube three.
A few seconds later, Legolas starts to stir. The look of abject horror on his face when he realizes what has happened is priceless and, coupled with the shock of finding a stranger's head between his legs, he's soon springing rapidly up from the floor. He flattens himself against the door again, this time with his arms splayed along the wood.
"Dat deedn't haeppin," he whispers. "U deedn't sea dat."
"I didn't see anything," says the phlebotomist, in perfect harmony with Annie answering, "Nope, not a thing."
"Guud," mumbles the Prance.
Annie finishes me up, and we head down the long hallway toward the surgical interview room. This time it's my turn to get the doors.
"I've been expecting you," says the nurse who escorts us back to the little office where they explain what time to be there and ask questions like what kinds of medicines you take on a regular basis. She motions for us to sit down, and pulls out a folder full of information for me to read and fill out and sign.
She explains that I'm on the surgery schedule for three days from now, that I have to come in the afternoon, and that it will be very important not to eat or drink anything even though it will be a long time before I come in. Prance Legolas is currently going over all the fine print in the contracts for me. He choses this moment to interrupt.
"Whut duz dis paert meen?" he asks, pointing with a long, thin elven finger to a clause at the bottom of the page. "Dis paert dat sez al weel noet hoeld da hoespeetal reespoensabil fur enithaeng dat mite haepin tu her?" He's getting a bit red around his ears and he's got a wild, challenging sort of look in his eyes. "Whut iz dis abot 'uenfoersean sirkumstaensiz'?"
Uh-oh. Didn't plan on going there. Before the nurse can answer, he rises from the chair and blurts out, "Due u meen al kuld DIE frum dis theeng dat iz sueppozed tu feex her?" He's now standing with both palms placed flat in the middle of the desk, leaning over and into her half of the room. The contract he was reading now lies discarded on the desk between his hands.
"Yes," she whispers calmly, not taking her eyes off him.
He whirls to me, demanding. "U deed noet tael me dis!" he shouts in his frustration.
I have no answers for him. I break eye contact quickly, unable to explain to him that these are things you must sign but that you just don't really try to think about.
"It's very rare, but it is a possibility we must tell the patient about," says the nurse. "A person needs to know all the things that are involved to make the proper decision."
He turns his angry glare from me to her, scowls and then sinks back into his seat, sulking and staring now at the wall.
"Do you need a minute to think about this?" she asks me.
"No," I answer. I've had the stone for four weeks now, and it was supposed to pass in the first couple of days. The concern now is that my right kidney is silently shutting down, letting the left one do all the work. There really isn't a test to see if this is what's really happening, and therefore my right kidney could be completely beyond repair without my ever knowing it, so the only thing to do is to go in and take the stone out. "I don't really have a choice now," I sigh.
"Well, let's move on," she replies, smiling softly.
She places a blood pressure cuff over my right arm and goes back to writing times and dates and instructions and things on the paper for me to take home as the machine pumps up and measures me automatically. Legolas, who normally can't pass up a machine of any sort, watches out of the corner of one eye, but feigns indifference. A few moments later, the cuff deflates and the machine registers its recording. Legolas snorts.
"I theenk u woen da loettrie dis tiem, al," he says.
The nurse looks up at the machine's digital dial and does a double take. She looks carefully at me, then blinks and looks at the dial again. She rises from her chair, saying, "Excuse me one moment . . . ," and leaves the room. In a few minutes, she's back.
"I called the anesthesiologist. He says to ask you how long your blood pressure has been elevated, and to ask what medicine you're on to control it."
"I'm not on any medicine for blood pressure. I don't take anything at all, except the pain medicine Dr. Henry gave me for this stone, and I only take THAT when I have to."
"I need to call your family doctor then. You need to be seen today. We'll have to cancel your surgery Monday until you can get your blood pressure under control." Before I can ask anything further, she's out the door and gone again.
If I wasn't nervous before, which I really didn't feel I was, I'm getting nervous now with all this rushing in and out of the room. When she comes back and tells me I can't be seen at the family practice until Tuesday, and that the anesthesiologist said to tell me NOT to plan on any emergency surgery until at least then either, I start to realize I really CAN hear my blood pounding in my ears.
"What exactly IS my blood pressure?" I ask her when she finally stops rushing around and sits again. She's looking at me as if she hopes I'm planning on getting out of her office soon, before I have a stroke or something.
Normal is 120/80. Mine is currently 183/124.
Legolas picks up on the escalating emotion in the room. "Iz dat baed?" he asks, no longer angry and now with a very worried look on his handsome countenance.
Walking stroke in action here, I don't have to have a nursing degree to know that. All I have to do is take a look at the woman's face across the desk from me.
"Yes," she says softly to him. "That's very bad."
He stares wide eyed at her for the longest time, then slowly turns his gaze to me. Breaking eye contact, Legolas sinks back down into the chair.
"Dis iz aell my fawlt," he mumbles.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Big thanks to PuterPatty again for the fantastical beta services (yeah, Skye Rocket, I sort of like that word!) and thanks to all of you who have sent me well wishes. The story continues, and I have the next chapter already written. Fuss at the Prance for how long he takes to write these "lub ledders".
Some of you had trouble sending a review this time. Please know that you can send it by e-mail if you can't get through on the regular review box at fanfiction.net. Just send it to alliwantisanelfforchristmas@hotmail.com and I'll make sure he gets it. Legolas is very careful to match up all his 'lub ledders', and half the reason for the delay is that he checks things two and three times, he's so afraid he'll leave someone out. A very conscientious fellow, our dear Prance Helpful.
Also, you do NOT have to be a member of fanfiction.net to leave a review. Just click on the 'go' box beside "submit review", then type in whatever name you want to be known by in the box where it asks for your name. You do not have to leave an e-mail address. Type your 'love letter' to Legolas in the box that says "Review" and then click on 'submit review". It's that simple! (Hey, if LEGOLAS can do it, surely you can!)
And now, what you've all really been waiting for:
Lub Ledderz frum Legolas
LEAIL!!
SarWolfe Snape: I hoep u deedn't huert ursef whin u juempd like dat. *al, she sed I wuz kuet!! She said your STORY was cute, Prance. Noe she deedn't!!* I lub tu goe ober tu da hoespitel. I hav loetz of fraendz dere. *keesiz u oen da cheak*
daw the minstrel: I em soe soerrie tu heer abot ur doeg. I em glaed dat I kin braeng bak guud meamuriez of sumwon u lubbed. I hav sumpting en my pokit fur u. . . *greanz*
TreeHugger: U muest bea fealin reel guud rite noew frum getting all dat eggstrae oxagin wid all dat laffin u wear duien. Whut? Sumbuddie sed Lisa haz da hoetz fur Araporn? Whut iz dis deavilree? *snoertz an gloewrz* Wael. . . *croessiz aerms* Mees Shannon iz NOET my gurlfraend! (tho she duz have sum perty hare, an dose laegz. . . ! Mmmm. . . .) I saevd a *hueg* fur u.
Sperry Dee: Are dey hear yaet? Are dey?? AR DEY?? I em soe eggsited! Due u nead me tu coem wach ur bak at jim klaess? *huegz u an keesiz ur booe booe'z*
bored2death: I thaenk eben dose masheenz shuld hav sum kiend of wurk eathik. Eetin sumbuddie's muney an dere kaendie iz baed enuff, buet dat thaeng aet my aerm! I nead a kueddil *kueddil'z u*
Lady Peredhel: Deed I mees sumpthaeng abot my maennerz 30 yeerz agoe? I em shur Ada weel bea pleezd whin he reedz ur noet of kongratulashunz. U noe, I thaenk da laese mite luuk guud - I weel hav tu trie it oen an sea - I meen, U trie it oen . . . *blueshiz!* Wate rite dere, doen't move a mussle *geeglz at u waetin dere, an wachez tu sea if u weel stae dere uentil nekz tiem. . . *
Laura: I have gaerdend fur maeny yeerz. I haev feefteen tumadoe plaentz dis yeer, an dey ar jest tuernin raedish-peenk noew! Hannon le fur da hueg an keez oen my haend. . . it iz aelredy heeld uep, thaenkz tu u! *sweat keez fur ur cheak*
Campy Oh: Stuek FOAR tiemz! Woew! Hae, doen't steek ur aerm en dere enimoer, okae? I hoep u ar fealin bedder frum huertin ur bak. U hav tu bea kaerful wid min, dey doen't noe whut dere doen haf da tiem. *givz u a beeg hueg*
Digital Jessie: Riedin en da kar EZ like riedin oen a hoerse, an ur laegz doen't git tierd tho u steel git a nuemb buem sumtiemz ef u siet tuu loeng. U goet 2 kaendee baerz? Woew! *skweeziz u*
Chan: I wuld like dat Meestr Beeg, hannon le *taekz it frum u an oepinz da rapper.* al'z addatued iz abot all she ha helthee rite noew. She usuaelie uzez da kalkoolador, an dat duz da addatuding fur her. *greanz*
LEAIL! LEAIL!!
Nilmandra: If u weel rueb my bak like dat agin, I weel ware enithaeng u waent, melamin. . . *puerrz. . . . roelz ober. . . straechiz. . .puerrz sum moer. . .watez fur u tu keez me. . . .*
Lily Frost: I gess u culd git da haem an cheez an taek oeff da paertz u doen't like if u ar vaegin. U noe whut'z groass? Leamoenade aftur u uez da toofpaeste . . . Yuk! *snuegglz u*
Dragon of the north: Hoew wuz ur eggzam? Hoep u deed guud! I em noet aengree. . . I jest kaen't bealeave hoew menny peepl saew me droep dat braw! *criengiz* U lub M&M'z tu? Woew! *kueddlz*
Magical Rachel: al iz guud at diz riting thaeng beacuz she meatz aetean owt of nientean of da kryteeria fur bean a Maerrie Seuw. Da oenlee won she duzn't meat iz da won whur u hav tu die fuerst an koem bak. I theenk dere ar a buench of faengurlz hear oen Modren erth whoe like me. All eggsept da laedee wid da bluud raed feengurnaelz. *hueg an keez saevd jest fur u!*
Holly :o) : Wael of koers it wuldn't wurk fur a huemin tu sleap wid her eyez oepin. Deed u git eni rayne yaet? Hoew duz da tiale luuk? I beat it iz az perty az u ar. *smuuch*
Vladimir'z Angel: Hannon le fur da M&M'z, and da graepz and da dayzeez tu. al deed giv me a fuennie luuk whin I sed she culd eet da dayee. Dat iz whut u mint, izn't it? *skweeeze*
Lina Skye: *al, I theenk she'z a faengurl. Definitely a fangirl, Prance. Most definitely.* *huegs u* Da Baybee Baelrog Briches ar deze blak pajaemae paentz of al'z wid yaello an raed flaemz all ober dem. I steel dem frum al'z draewer ebery chaence I git. Soe u hav da hoetz fur Araporn tuu? Bea kaerful maessin wid dat Arwen, she'll boep u ober da haed wid a shovel en a hartbeet. *shueddrz*
Lady Silence: Kaek?? U'll seand me Kaek?? Whoooeee Hooooee! (c Celeborn) Whut kiend of kaek iz it? Germ-man choklit? Raed Vaelvit? Choklit swerl? Aenjil fuud? Straewbaerrie Shoertzkaek? *claepz haendz tugethur* WOEW!! Oeh, boey! *hoepz around an smielz reel beeg en eggsitemint!* *bloewz u a keez*
Katani Petitedra: u goet stuek en a reefrijerador? Wear Winifred an Charles stuek en dere tu? Oer deed dey puesh u en dere? Deed dey hoeld da doar klozd? Shaem oen dem. *huegz u*
Amber aka Stimpy: I lub tu wach E-lemon-date oen TV. Doze gueyz noe eberythaeng dere iz tu noe abot maekin a womin haeppie. OEWW! al! Dat huert! Doen't smak me like dat! I wuz jest kidden! I goet plaentee of elf- lubbin, baybee, hearz sum fur u! *givz u sum elf-lubbin*
Michelle: Roellrkoestrz ar moer fuen dan titeroepz? WOEW! I kin haerdlee wate! *huegz u, den goez tu da daor an sietz, waetin wid aentisipaeshun*
Angaloth: Ur noet laet. It sowndz like u ar vary beezy. Dat'z grate dat u goet oudda all ur eggzamz-u muest hav bean vary guud an vary smaert tuu! Leedle Peep caelz me Buemmbil aftur da Abuembinabul Snoemaen oen da stoeree of Rudof da Raed-noze Raindear. He bownsiz, u now. *huegz u*
Anon: al seant u sum dert? I deedn't thaenk she liked dert-she spaendz all dae warshin kloez an doezn't hav a grean thuemb at all. I hoep ur flew iz all goen. Feal bedder suun! *bloewz u a keez*
Caranwen: Waelkoem! Luuk, al, anuthr neu faengurl! *elf-skweee!* I em soe glaed u ar heer! *huegz an keeziz tu u!*
Newmoon: U deedn't sea eni guelz, deed u? I doen't noe if I em reddy fur dat. al sez if u sea won flieng oberhaed, doen't luuk uep. *snueggl*
Melkor's Drinking Buddy: *eyez u* Diskontint of uthurz? Maeddleeng Valar?? Paest gruedjiz? Huummmm. . . sownds eentristeeng. Due u draenk ur grean tee strate uep? *puetz 3 teekupz oen da kowntur an heetz uep da kaettel tu waelkoem u*
Anja: Haello, leedle Germ-man gurl! U maek me bluesh! *blueshiz* My kut iz alredy heeld, hannon le. I lub u tu! *smuuch!*
ren: I lub it whin u skweeeee like dat! Ar u teeklish rite hear?? Hoew abot hear?? Tea Hea! I due it like dis. . . *elf-skweeeeeeeee!!!!*
Lil' Pip: Ur Ada gitz en enuf truble all bie heemsef. Soe du u. Kin I hav dis? *hoeldz uep ur blew pokit buuk* Doen't u daer tael enibuddie whut us saew oen da enternaet, due u heer me? *groewlz*
Dunrosiel: U hav a tri pearsoenalatie? Duz dat mean u hav 3 peepl lieveeng ensied u, or dat u ar a beeg haelp cuz u trie soe haerd? *greanz and weenkz at u*
LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL!!
Arienna DyBane: Soe guud tu sea u! Boromir'z haer iz L'Oreal Eggsellense Proefessonel Hare Craem Culur Noembur 5 Meedeum Broewn. Da theater al fownd me at iz noet en a maell-it iz en a paerkin loet all bie itsef. Da tweenz wear noet dere whin I fael, soe I dunnoe if I kin coemplie wid ur rekwest tu braeng dem. Hearz a hueg fur u! *huegz*
939597: She'z NOET my gurlfraend!! if I eber sed I haed a gurlfraend, I wuld bea en seo muech truble! *hi fievz u*
davan: I deed git 2 reeveewz frum u! Vary nise, bof of dem. U muest bea pashunt wid doze dokturz. . . dey ar jest huemin u noe. U noe, it IZ haerd tu plae Oeld Maedz if da Oeld Maed iz meesing. . . . *givz u a kueddl fur trieeng soe haerd*
Aranel: OOOOoooohhhh!!!! Kin I boerroe dat won dere.noe, noet dat won, da won dat iz tuu plaesiz doewn frum da klothzlien poel dere. . . yaeh, dat won! LEGOLAS!! Oeh, nebermiend. . . . I dunnoe abot da mofz, buet I deed git sum guem stuek en my hare wonse. . . it'z a guud thaeng al noez hoew tu git dat kiend of thaeng owt. Yaes, I noe da Peder Koettintael soeng, da won dat goewz like dis. . . Hear coemz Peder Koettintael, hoeppin doewn da buennie trayl, hieppatee hoepiteee. . . Legolas, darling, could you finish up please so I can post? Oeh, okae. . .*skwatz doewn soe I kin reech an givz ua a beeg hueg*
Space Case 7029: I due lub da beeg broewn truk. Won dae I em goenna git tu driev it, I em shur. I like Dale, an Bill, an Mark, an Michael, an. . . weal, jest abot eberybuddie! Deed u sea da Balrog kar? Dat thaeng wuz oen fier frum da eensied owt! It luukd jest like da breedge at Khazaddum! Skeerie! I em glaed u rote tu me. Hearz a kees jest fur u! *SSSSSSSMMMMUUUUUCCCHHHHHH!*
Skye Rocket: Wael, I gess FANTASTICAL kin bea a wurd ef u waent it tu bea won. Hannon le fur reedin an liven life aloeng wid me! *Huegz*
Andy8: Dat sowndz jest like da beeg medal thaeng al haed her pikshur taekin oen. U kin ried a tuu whealer? WOEW! I tryd tu ried al'z biek won dae, buet I rekkd entu a trea. Doen't tael her, okae? She hazn't noetised dat it haz a leedle skrach oen da paynt yaet. *givz u a Hobbit hy-fiev*
Cara6: I mite nead u tu teech me tu ried a biek. Dose trayneeng whealz sownd like jest whut I nead. Maebee u culd teech me beafoer u goe entu da hoespital tu hav ur keedz, okae? I lub anemalz of all kiendz, wael eggsept fur dat paelmaetto bueg dat al hiet wid da roelld uep paepr an saevd me. Kin u due da makarana? Daense wid me, Melde (dat iz whut Cara meenz en elvish, deed u noe dat? I meenz 'beelubbed')*Duz da makarana wid u*
Raphael the Andromeda: Ar u hear yaet, Raphael? I weel bea waetin tu heer frum u agin! *waevz tu u wae bak dere*
Irena: heh, I shur noe wut u meen, Vaern. al 'neadz all da haelp she kin git' iz an uendurstaetmint. U muest git wael suun, rwalaer, foer I em groeweeng empashunt wateing fur ues tu meat. Dere ar maeny theengz u muest teech me, u noe. *likz leepz en aentisapashun*
LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL!!! Maed u luuk!! Tea Hea! I jest lub duen dat. It'z aelwaez wurse whin I hav haed tuu muech kaendee tuu. *muenchiz oen peenuet M&M'z u seant me* I dunnoe noetheeng abot a speen sykle. . . *blueshiz* Hear'z a kees fur u. . .*diepz u an taekz ur braeath awae. . .*
Mcr. . . : Hiedin owt dere, ar u?? I goet ur e-male. U kin leve me a lub ledder tu, jest cleek oen da suebmit boex an tipe in a screen naem. U doent hav tu puet an e-male adraess, an u doen't hav tu bea a meambur of ff.net. Den tipe me a lub ledder, an cleek oen suebmit agin. Uenless u ar noet da tipe dat taekz wealeenglee tu suebmitteeng? *weenkz*
The Two Princesses: Dat bueg weant rite doewn my throet! I wuz jest seengin awae, an miendin my oewn bizness, an dat bueg jest weant ZUUUUM!!! Ar u steel en skool noew? Dey due theengz bakwurdz en Awstralya frum hear. Ur M sowndz like she iz jaelus of Mees Shannon. . .duz she hav a kruesh oen me or sumptin? *geeglez* Hearz sum OOOOOOO'z an XXXXXXXXXX'z fur u!
PuterPatty: Dere ar wimin whoe waent tu waek uep nekz tu ME??? An Min tuu??? Bie da Valar! *gulpz* Mees Shannon? *swaellowz* Uuhhh. . .whie, she'z jest dis gurl whoe wurkz at da hoespital,dat'z all. *skwermz* She iz NOET my gurlfraend, noe sieree. *luukz at da bueg oen da seeling* I deed NOET kees her. Noep. *peekz my feengurnaelz* Noet eben wonse. I swaer. . . . Legolas? You have clothes that need to go in this wash I'm fixing to start? Oeh, yaeh, baybee (c Legolas) . . . deez uendurwaer ar en baed shaep noew. . . .*keesiz u tu maek uep?*
The Karenator: Hi Karenator! I sea da ff.net karenated ur reeveew!! Tea Hea! U goet da rite ideea, noew trie agin *seandz u dis beeeg hueg fur trien!*
anna: My ada wulda hed my haed if I deen't giv dat kaendee tu da laydee. He iz a vary wiez an guud keeng an father, an da laydeez doen't lub heem fur nuthin dere en heez paelase at Mirkwood. It wuz haerd, tho, eggspaeshully aftur I wurkd soe haerd tu git dem. *kueddlz u*
Arilyn: Mmmmm. . .choklit kaek. Hoew ar da waeddin plaenz goen? I hoep u ar steel keapin ur kuul en da heet. It woen't bea loeng noew. I deedn't giv Mees Shannon my nuembur. . . PuterPatty wuld KEEL me if I deed! *huegz an keesiz fur u*
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Submit quick! Next chapter is waiting only for Legolas to type up his "lub ledders" to you!
Chapter 10 More Than A Belly Full
Since all they're doing at this point is sitting around staring at the walls while they wait to spring me from this joint, Yes Dear, Lil' Pip, and Legolas decide to visit the hospital gift shop. Legolas still hasn't had his hamburger, so they decide to hit the cafeteria once again on the way back.
While they're gone, I have a nice, good, quiet nap topped off with a visit from my friendly Emergency Room physician, Dr. Baughman. She says that when the gang comes back, I can go home, providing I agree to see a specialist about my problem in the morning. She gives me the name and number of a local urology group, and tells me if I need to come back during the night it's ok to do so.
Lisa comes back in to take out my IV, and she gives me a tiny little white colander-looking thing to take home with me. It's a little personal strainer, so that I can try and catch the stone. If I can catch it, then they'll know for sure it's out and gone.
It isn't long before I hear footsteps approaching my bed. I look up to find the three gift and food hunters standing at the foot of the stretcher. Lil' Pip is scowling, Yes Dear is smirking contentedly, and Legolas is rubbing his belly the same way I used to when I was eight months along with Lil' Pip.
"What's going on?" I inquire.
There is a very pregnant pause. Yes Dear looks out the door and down the hallway, Lil' Pip continues to scowl at Legolas, and the Prance looks down at his rounded belly, firmly supported for the time being with a hand on each side.
"Well?"
"I theenk dey hav vary guud haembuergrz hear," says a quite satiated Prance.
"Good French fries too, huh Legolas?" prods Yes Dear. There's nothing innocent about the way it's phrased, though he tries to make it sound honest enough.
"Yaeh, da Freench fryz ar guud tuu," remarks the Prance, continuing to rub as he looks up to meet my gaze.
"Go on," pushes Lil' Pip, giving Legolas an elbow in the ribs. "Tell her what you did this time."
"Buet I deedn't due enithaeng!" moans Prance Helpful.
Yeah, and I've got some swampland in Arizona I'll sell you real cheap too. It's a good place to get rid of your allergies.
When they get finished dickering with each other, Lil' Pip finally spills that our Prance decided the burgers and fries were the most delicious thing he'd tasted since arriving in Modren-erth, and by the time he finally decided to call it quits on the evening meal, his tally of hamburgers, fries, and the appropriate condiments totaled four orders of each. Not only that, but he topped that off with a slice of homemade apple pie a la mode and a piece of 'Grandma's Chocolate Cake'.
Geez, no wonder he's rubbing like he's only one month from delivery. It'll take him a month just to DIGEST all of that.
"I haed Mowntin Deuw tu dreenk," he adds, his hand going round and round on his pot belly. "U foergot dat."
"Take me home," I plead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night once again passes uneventfully. I wish I could say the same for the kidney stone. No longer the severe pressure and cramping pain, today I have a nagging little sharp spot on the front of my right lower belly.
Yes Dear and Legolas drive me to my appointment with the urologist while Lil' Pip is at school. The other patients in the waiting room get irritated at me because I'm pacing the floor. Not because I'm nervous, mind you - I have a degree in one of the medical support specialties and I'm quite familiar and comfortable in a doctor's office. It's actually a symptom used to properly diagnose a kidney stone versus something like appendicitis. You see, the appendicitis patient holds rigidly still, having more pain when she moves around. The kidney stone patient can't find a comfortable position to save herself, and moves about constantly. We're restless, irritable, grumpy. . . everything you really don't want to have to deal with in a person having pain. In short, we ARE a pain.
Finally, the nurse calls my name to come to the back. She directs me to the bathroom first to leave my customary sample. Legolas stands outside the door, making his little grunts of disgust and his animated faces at how vile he finds the whole idea of peeing in a little cup. Yes Dear ignores us both, perusing the latest copy of "Men's Health".
I've brought my X-rays from the hospital, and when my doctor (I'll call him Dr. Henry) comes in, he shows the three of us the cause of all my woes. Sitting in the very end part of the little tube called the ureter that runs from my right kidney to my bladder, wedged in tight as a tick, is a little round white spot. A calcification, if you will, for clarification. The lowly kidney stone.
"Well," I announce, quite pleased that someone has finally verified that I'm NOT making all of this up, "only an inch to go, right Doc?"
Dr. Henry doesn't look too pleased. He sits and thinks a moment, clears his throat, gets a little closer to the X-ray view box, flips through my chart, and clears his throat again. About the time I'm starting to think he's charging by the hour, he announces, "Well, that's the narrowest part."
Yeah, but it's the shortest part. I've done the long haul already, having managed to move the little rock-like object about a foot already, with what looks to me like only about one measly inch to go. From previous experiences, I know that once the stone gets to the bladder, everything's enlarged enough to be home free.
"What do you want to do?" Dr. Henry asks.
I glance at Yes Dear. Frankly, I thought we were paying Dr. Henry to tell ME what to do, not vice versa. Yes Dear shrugs his shoulders and reaches over to whack Legolas, who is staring unabashedly at the pictures of human anatomy on the walls.
"Knock it off, "I hear my hubby whisper.
"Soerrie," mumbles the Prance.
"I want to be done with this whole adventure," I answer. "I just want to pass the little sucker and get on with my life."
Dr. Henry just sits on his chair and looks at me.
Yes Dear comes to the rescue. "Does she have a decent chance to pass it, Doc?" he asks.
Dr. Henry sits a minute more, and then looks again at the X-ray hanging on the view box. "Well," he says, "it's a borderline stone."
"Oh, good!" I hear myself say. One more good battle with a bit of pain involved, and I can push the little sucker right over the borderline and be done with it. Just like I did during my last contraction when I was having Lil' Pip.
Yes Dear hears it differently, of course. That's why I bring him to these things. "What do you mean by 'borderline'?" he inquires.
"Well," Dr. Henry begins, "the stone would measure about six millimeters in size. Most of the stones that pass on their own are six millimeters or less. Most that pass do so within the first 48 hours."
"Does that mean she more likely needs surgery?" asks the ever practical better half of me. I just give him a glare. Been there and done that once before for a stone, and not anywhere keen on doing it again. EVER.
Dr. Henry just sits on his little chair and looks at me.
I glance over at the Prance, since he's being awfully quiet. He's currently comparing my own anatomy on the X-ray with the anatomically correct drawings on the wall.
"Will you KNOCK IT OFF!!!" I snap.
"Oeh.. Soerrie, al!" he apologizes.
Finally, Dr. Henry decides the 'making a decision' ball is in his court. "I think you could try on your own for a few more days, if you want to.," he says.
"Good enough," I say, hopping down from the exam table.
". . .but I only do surgery on Mondays, so I think we should go ahead and schedule you for the pre-op visit at the hospital for your blood work and things," he concludes.
Right. Like I am so gonna need that after I go straight home and drink a lake full of water and spend the rest of the evening pushing to get this little homemade jewel out.
"Sure," I hear my voice say.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, the day of my pre-op appointment finally arrives. I wish I could say the same thing about the kidney stone.
Legolas and I head over to the hospital to my interview with the surgery team and to get my blood work done. I pull into the parking lot and find a space in the back row of the lot. Hefting my bookbag full of papers (I quit carrying a purse some time ago), the Prance and I make our way to the revolving door at the front of the building.
On the way, Legolas develops a really strange cadence to his walking pattern. Sort of a step-step-step-PAUSE-head toss, step-step-step-PAUSE- head toss. . . . As we reach the revolving door, I have to stop as the next wing moves by before I can enter, and when I do, Prance Helpful runs smack into me. That's when I realize he's been preening himself in the mirrored glass lining the front of the hospital lobby.
Of course, from his point of view outside the lobby, all he sees in the glass is his own reflection, beautiful as it may be. Inside the lobby, the people waiting on the other side of the glass are treated to a few last minute elven beauty techniques. I'm just thankful he doesn't adjust anything other than his hair.
I drag him through the entrance as the next wing of the revolving door passes. As we step into the lobby, we're greeted by a rousing chorus of "Hey, Legolas!"
The Emergency Room desk clerk and two of the ER nurses are waving on the right. The three ladies from the Registration staff are waving on the left. Sitting at the desk directly in front of us is a little gray-haired lady wearing a pink hospital volunteer coat, and standing behind the wheelchair parked beside her is a gray-headed man wearing a matching outfit. Together and on cue, exactly five seconds behind the previous chorus, they speak too.
"Hello, Legolas!" they chime in harmony, his voice just a bit deeper but a perfect complement to her own soprano.
"Welcome!" adds the man.
I begin to wonder just how smashed I was the last two times we were here. I don't know any of these folks from Adam, and right now it looks like we've just entered the monthly meeting of our local chapter of the Legolas Greenleaf Fan Club. Admirers of all ages accepted.
"Hullo, eberybuddie!" exclaims the Prance, smiling and waving like he's the next mayoral candidate. He announces to the gathering, "I browt al fur her bluud taest!" and without a pause he adds, "She'z bean dreenkin an pueshin, buet she'z steel all stoeppd uep!"
Geez. Thanks to Prance Helpful, now the whole waiting room thinks I'm an alcoholic pregnant woman with some kind of terrible bowel obstruction.
"I have an appointment for a pre-op workup," I whisper to the lady in the pink volunteer coat.
"Sign in right here, dear," she answers. "I'll let the registration staff know you're here."
Somehow I think that's already been taken care of.
There's a bit of commotion happening at the three little cubbyhole desks in the Registration department. From here it looks a bit like there's some twisted form of the rock-scissors-paper game going on. The woman with the spiral-permed dirty blonde hair suddenly squeals loudly and raises her hand in the air in a victory salute. She then moves to the lobby side of the registration desk and pilfers the chair from her co-worker's space, squeezing it into the tiny space beside the one already in front of her own cubicle. She makes her way back behind the desk and sits in her chair before smiling and nodding to the gray-headed volunteer running the sign-in table.
"I think Stacy's ready for you now," the volunteer lady announces with a bright smile.
"Id wuz a plaezure eggspearienceeng ur hoespetalitee," purrs the Prance, taking the gray-haired lady's hand and placing a kiss on the back of it.
"Oh, think nothing of it!" blushes the volunteer lady.
He bows to the gray-haired man before following me over to sit in the chair on Stacy's right, leaving the one on the left for me. He stands royally and patiently until Stacy invites us both to sit down. Such character.
Or is that such A character?
I am a bit surprised at the first words out of his mouth. "Hoew'z da baybee, Mees Stacy?" he asks.
She rubs her so far non-existent belly and replies, "Oh, how thoughtful of you, Legolas! The baby is doing fine, thank you for asking." She tosses a coquettish smile at him, and for a second there I wonder just how it is he has firsthand knowledge of the pregnancy. She can't be even 2 months along yet.
Then she returns the subject at hand to my current need of the hospital and its services. She takes my insurance information and updates my statistical record-type things, then hands me a mass of papers to sign. So far nothing I didn't expect and haven't done before. Then the clincher.
"Do you have a Living Will and a Power of Attorney?"
My jaw drops. I hadn't even considered it. I mean, who dies while having a kidney stone removed? It's not even considered true surgery, more of just a procedure. Like an X-ray, or having your blood drawn.
I glance over at Legolas. Who's gonna take care of him if something happens to me?
I manage to answer her without giving away my sudden apprehension. I don't want Legolas to pick up on my newfound nervousness. He's sitting there quietly beside me, diligently trying to peruse the contract I have just signed, trying to make heads or tails of the tiny print.
"Dis iz wurse dan da wonz my adar haz tu deel wid," he scowls.
Stacy directs us back to the X-ray department first for an up-to-date film, and then says I'll need to go for my blood work from there. She stands and shakes my hand, then leans across the desk and gets a hug from Prance Helpful.
Yep, I'm really starting to wonder about the two of them.
We make our way past the ER desk and down the long hallway. Prance Helpful opens all the doors for me on the way, making sure to rub his hands together before sweeping them elegantly over the hydraulic opener in the top corner of each one.
When we get to X-ray, he swaggers over to the desk and asks the receptionist, "Iz Mees Shannon wurkeen diz fien moerneen?"
"Not today," comes her reply.
"Hoew abot Mees Robin?" he inquires politely.
"No, she worked yesterday," says the receptionist.
He pauses a minute, considering this news quietly while trying to suppress his obvious disappointment. Finally, he leans over the desk, a touch of worry on his face, and whispers, "Hoew abot dat laydee wid da niecely manakurd bluud-read feengurnalez?"
"Oh, yes, Vickie's here," she smiles at him, nodding.
He gulps.
We take our places in the tiny radiology waiting room, and Prance Helpful decides he will stay parked in place in his chair as soon as he sees it's Vickie of the blood-red nicely manicured fingernails that calls for me. He squirms a bit as she looks him over.
"Do I know you?" she inquires, cocking her head and eyeballing him suspiciously.
"I doen't theenk soe," he blushes, ducking his head and sliding down in the chair. Thankfully, she drops it and starts off down the hallway before I can try to introduce him.
A few minutes later I'm back in the waiting room where I find Prance Helpful straightening up the magazines and pushing the chairs back against the wall, lining the armrests up perfectly. Thinking everything has gone way too smoothly, I find myself wondering what other mischief he has gotten into in my absence. When I pass the receptionist, I discover what's been keeping him busy.
Her straight blonde hair, which had been hanging loosely from her head down to mid-shoulder, is now elaborately braided in an elven child's braid, similar to our own French braiding but even more intricate.
"Thanks, Legolas!" she calls to him, waving.
"My plaeshure, Mees Debbie!" he yells back.
On to the lab. We enter a tiny little room with two phlebotomists and two tiny chairs. I take my place in the one that is straight back against the wall while Legolas chooses to stand at the door. There's the usual discussion about my lab card that gives me discounted lab work, and while the ladies confer about whether or not my report will come back soon enough, one of them hands me the usual and motions toward the door in the corner.
Legolas makes faces like he's just eaten a raw persimmon. Or maybe a kosher dill pickle after sucking on a lemon. Hard to describe that particular look really. Elven disgust is so remarkably displayed when allowed to crack the surface of that stoic attitude he usually has.
After leaving my urine sample on the shelf behind the little door on the wall in the bathroom, I come back to take my place in the bloodletting chair. Unfortunately for me, the phlebotomist picks a spot to stick me that is a bit on the painful side, making me jump in the chair when she inserts the needle this time. She attaches the first of the four tubes that she will take of my blood, and I watch as the deep red liquid flows to fill the first tube. She pops that one out of the holder and pushes the second one on. That's when I hear it.
It's the sound of a tall, lithe, athletic body sliding down a door to the floor.
"Annie, we got ourselves a fainter," says the other phlebotomist in a very calm, very cool manner. She goes over to the Prance and, placing her latex covered hand behind his head, slowly turns him and drops the rest of him to lie on the floor. She stands back up and moves to take her place between his splayed feet, lifting them up onto her tiny shoulders and getting his legs above his heart level.
Annie doesn't even look back at what's happening. She finishes tube two and connects tube three.
A few seconds later, Legolas starts to stir. The look of abject horror on his face when he realizes what has happened is priceless and, coupled with the shock of finding a stranger's head between his legs, he's soon springing rapidly up from the floor. He flattens himself against the door again, this time with his arms splayed along the wood.
"Dat deedn't haeppin," he whispers. "U deedn't sea dat."
"I didn't see anything," says the phlebotomist, in perfect harmony with Annie answering, "Nope, not a thing."
"Guud," mumbles the Prance.
Annie finishes me up, and we head down the long hallway toward the surgical interview room. This time it's my turn to get the doors.
"I've been expecting you," says the nurse who escorts us back to the little office where they explain what time to be there and ask questions like what kinds of medicines you take on a regular basis. She motions for us to sit down, and pulls out a folder full of information for me to read and fill out and sign.
She explains that I'm on the surgery schedule for three days from now, that I have to come in the afternoon, and that it will be very important not to eat or drink anything even though it will be a long time before I come in. Prance Legolas is currently going over all the fine print in the contracts for me. He choses this moment to interrupt.
"Whut duz dis paert meen?" he asks, pointing with a long, thin elven finger to a clause at the bottom of the page. "Dis paert dat sez al weel noet hoeld da hoespeetal reespoensabil fur enithaeng dat mite haepin tu her?" He's getting a bit red around his ears and he's got a wild, challenging sort of look in his eyes. "Whut iz dis abot 'uenfoersean sirkumstaensiz'?"
Uh-oh. Didn't plan on going there. Before the nurse can answer, he rises from the chair and blurts out, "Due u meen al kuld DIE frum dis theeng dat iz sueppozed tu feex her?" He's now standing with both palms placed flat in the middle of the desk, leaning over and into her half of the room. The contract he was reading now lies discarded on the desk between his hands.
"Yes," she whispers calmly, not taking her eyes off him.
He whirls to me, demanding. "U deed noet tael me dis!" he shouts in his frustration.
I have no answers for him. I break eye contact quickly, unable to explain to him that these are things you must sign but that you just don't really try to think about.
"It's very rare, but it is a possibility we must tell the patient about," says the nurse. "A person needs to know all the things that are involved to make the proper decision."
He turns his angry glare from me to her, scowls and then sinks back into his seat, sulking and staring now at the wall.
"Do you need a minute to think about this?" she asks me.
"No," I answer. I've had the stone for four weeks now, and it was supposed to pass in the first couple of days. The concern now is that my right kidney is silently shutting down, letting the left one do all the work. There really isn't a test to see if this is what's really happening, and therefore my right kidney could be completely beyond repair without my ever knowing it, so the only thing to do is to go in and take the stone out. "I don't really have a choice now," I sigh.
"Well, let's move on," she replies, smiling softly.
She places a blood pressure cuff over my right arm and goes back to writing times and dates and instructions and things on the paper for me to take home as the machine pumps up and measures me automatically. Legolas, who normally can't pass up a machine of any sort, watches out of the corner of one eye, but feigns indifference. A few moments later, the cuff deflates and the machine registers its recording. Legolas snorts.
"I theenk u woen da loettrie dis tiem, al," he says.
The nurse looks up at the machine's digital dial and does a double take. She looks carefully at me, then blinks and looks at the dial again. She rises from her chair, saying, "Excuse me one moment . . . ," and leaves the room. In a few minutes, she's back.
"I called the anesthesiologist. He says to ask you how long your blood pressure has been elevated, and to ask what medicine you're on to control it."
"I'm not on any medicine for blood pressure. I don't take anything at all, except the pain medicine Dr. Henry gave me for this stone, and I only take THAT when I have to."
"I need to call your family doctor then. You need to be seen today. We'll have to cancel your surgery Monday until you can get your blood pressure under control." Before I can ask anything further, she's out the door and gone again.
If I wasn't nervous before, which I really didn't feel I was, I'm getting nervous now with all this rushing in and out of the room. When she comes back and tells me I can't be seen at the family practice until Tuesday, and that the anesthesiologist said to tell me NOT to plan on any emergency surgery until at least then either, I start to realize I really CAN hear my blood pounding in my ears.
"What exactly IS my blood pressure?" I ask her when she finally stops rushing around and sits again. She's looking at me as if she hopes I'm planning on getting out of her office soon, before I have a stroke or something.
Normal is 120/80. Mine is currently 183/124.
Legolas picks up on the escalating emotion in the room. "Iz dat baed?" he asks, no longer angry and now with a very worried look on his handsome countenance.
Walking stroke in action here, I don't have to have a nursing degree to know that. All I have to do is take a look at the woman's face across the desk from me.
"Yes," she says softly to him. "That's very bad."
He stares wide eyed at her for the longest time, then slowly turns his gaze to me. Breaking eye contact, Legolas sinks back down into the chair.
"Dis iz aell my fawlt," he mumbles.
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A/N: Big thanks to PuterPatty again for the fantastical beta services (yeah, Skye Rocket, I sort of like that word!) and thanks to all of you who have sent me well wishes. The story continues, and I have the next chapter already written. Fuss at the Prance for how long he takes to write these "lub ledders".
Some of you had trouble sending a review this time. Please know that you can send it by e-mail if you can't get through on the regular review box at fanfiction.net. Just send it to alliwantisanelfforchristmas@hotmail.com and I'll make sure he gets it. Legolas is very careful to match up all his 'lub ledders', and half the reason for the delay is that he checks things two and three times, he's so afraid he'll leave someone out. A very conscientious fellow, our dear Prance Helpful.
Also, you do NOT have to be a member of fanfiction.net to leave a review. Just click on the 'go' box beside "submit review", then type in whatever name you want to be known by in the box where it asks for your name. You do not have to leave an e-mail address. Type your 'love letter' to Legolas in the box that says "Review" and then click on 'submit review". It's that simple! (Hey, if LEGOLAS can do it, surely you can!)
And now, what you've all really been waiting for:
Lub Ledderz frum Legolas
LEAIL!!
SarWolfe Snape: I hoep u deedn't huert ursef whin u juempd like dat. *al, she sed I wuz kuet!! She said your STORY was cute, Prance. Noe she deedn't!!* I lub tu goe ober tu da hoespitel. I hav loetz of fraendz dere. *keesiz u oen da cheak*
daw the minstrel: I em soe soerrie tu heer abot ur doeg. I em glaed dat I kin braeng bak guud meamuriez of sumwon u lubbed. I hav sumpting en my pokit fur u. . . *greanz*
TreeHugger: U muest bea fealin reel guud rite noew frum getting all dat eggstrae oxagin wid all dat laffin u wear duien. Whut? Sumbuddie sed Lisa haz da hoetz fur Araporn? Whut iz dis deavilree? *snoertz an gloewrz* Wael. . . *croessiz aerms* Mees Shannon iz NOET my gurlfraend! (tho she duz have sum perty hare, an dose laegz. . . ! Mmmm. . . .) I saevd a *hueg* fur u.
Sperry Dee: Are dey hear yaet? Are dey?? AR DEY?? I em soe eggsited! Due u nead me tu coem wach ur bak at jim klaess? *huegz u an keesiz ur booe booe'z*
bored2death: I thaenk eben dose masheenz shuld hav sum kiend of wurk eathik. Eetin sumbuddie's muney an dere kaendie iz baed enuff, buet dat thaeng aet my aerm! I nead a kueddil *kueddil'z u*
Lady Peredhel: Deed I mees sumpthaeng abot my maennerz 30 yeerz agoe? I em shur Ada weel bea pleezd whin he reedz ur noet of kongratulashunz. U noe, I thaenk da laese mite luuk guud - I weel hav tu trie it oen an sea - I meen, U trie it oen . . . *blueshiz!* Wate rite dere, doen't move a mussle *geeglz at u waetin dere, an wachez tu sea if u weel stae dere uentil nekz tiem. . . *
Laura: I have gaerdend fur maeny yeerz. I haev feefteen tumadoe plaentz dis yeer, an dey ar jest tuernin raedish-peenk noew! Hannon le fur da hueg an keez oen my haend. . . it iz aelredy heeld uep, thaenkz tu u! *sweat keez fur ur cheak*
Campy Oh: Stuek FOAR tiemz! Woew! Hae, doen't steek ur aerm en dere enimoer, okae? I hoep u ar fealin bedder frum huertin ur bak. U hav tu bea kaerful wid min, dey doen't noe whut dere doen haf da tiem. *givz u a beeg hueg*
Digital Jessie: Riedin en da kar EZ like riedin oen a hoerse, an ur laegz doen't git tierd tho u steel git a nuemb buem sumtiemz ef u siet tuu loeng. U goet 2 kaendee baerz? Woew! *skweeziz u*
Chan: I wuld like dat Meestr Beeg, hannon le *taekz it frum u an oepinz da rapper.* al'z addatued iz abot all she ha helthee rite noew. She usuaelie uzez da kalkoolador, an dat duz da addatuding fur her. *greanz*
LEAIL! LEAIL!!
Nilmandra: If u weel rueb my bak like dat agin, I weel ware enithaeng u waent, melamin. . . *puerrz. . . . roelz ober. . . straechiz. . .puerrz sum moer. . .watez fur u tu keez me. . . .*
Lily Frost: I gess u culd git da haem an cheez an taek oeff da paertz u doen't like if u ar vaegin. U noe whut'z groass? Leamoenade aftur u uez da toofpaeste . . . Yuk! *snuegglz u*
Dragon of the north: Hoew wuz ur eggzam? Hoep u deed guud! I em noet aengree. . . I jest kaen't bealeave hoew menny peepl saew me droep dat braw! *criengiz* U lub M&M'z tu? Woew! *kueddlz*
Magical Rachel: al iz guud at diz riting thaeng beacuz she meatz aetean owt of nientean of da kryteeria fur bean a Maerrie Seuw. Da oenlee won she duzn't meat iz da won whur u hav tu die fuerst an koem bak. I theenk dere ar a buench of faengurlz hear oen Modren erth whoe like me. All eggsept da laedee wid da bluud raed feengurnaelz. *hueg an keez saevd jest fur u!*
Holly :o) : Wael of koers it wuldn't wurk fur a huemin tu sleap wid her eyez oepin. Deed u git eni rayne yaet? Hoew duz da tiale luuk? I beat it iz az perty az u ar. *smuuch*
Vladimir'z Angel: Hannon le fur da M&M'z, and da graepz and da dayzeez tu. al deed giv me a fuennie luuk whin I sed she culd eet da dayee. Dat iz whut u mint, izn't it? *skweeeze*
Lina Skye: *al, I theenk she'z a faengurl. Definitely a fangirl, Prance. Most definitely.* *huegs u* Da Baybee Baelrog Briches ar deze blak pajaemae paentz of al'z wid yaello an raed flaemz all ober dem. I steel dem frum al'z draewer ebery chaence I git. Soe u hav da hoetz fur Araporn tuu? Bea kaerful maessin wid dat Arwen, she'll boep u ober da haed wid a shovel en a hartbeet. *shueddrz*
Lady Silence: Kaek?? U'll seand me Kaek?? Whoooeee Hooooee! (c Celeborn) Whut kiend of kaek iz it? Germ-man choklit? Raed Vaelvit? Choklit swerl? Aenjil fuud? Straewbaerrie Shoertzkaek? *claepz haendz tugethur* WOEW!! Oeh, boey! *hoepz around an smielz reel beeg en eggsitemint!* *bloewz u a keez*
Katani Petitedra: u goet stuek en a reefrijerador? Wear Winifred an Charles stuek en dere tu? Oer deed dey puesh u en dere? Deed dey hoeld da doar klozd? Shaem oen dem. *huegz u*
Amber aka Stimpy: I lub tu wach E-lemon-date oen TV. Doze gueyz noe eberythaeng dere iz tu noe abot maekin a womin haeppie. OEWW! al! Dat huert! Doen't smak me like dat! I wuz jest kidden! I goet plaentee of elf- lubbin, baybee, hearz sum fur u! *givz u sum elf-lubbin*
Michelle: Roellrkoestrz ar moer fuen dan titeroepz? WOEW! I kin haerdlee wate! *huegz u, den goez tu da daor an sietz, waetin wid aentisipaeshun*
Angaloth: Ur noet laet. It sowndz like u ar vary beezy. Dat'z grate dat u goet oudda all ur eggzamz-u muest hav bean vary guud an vary smaert tuu! Leedle Peep caelz me Buemmbil aftur da Abuembinabul Snoemaen oen da stoeree of Rudof da Raed-noze Raindear. He bownsiz, u now. *huegz u*
Anon: al seant u sum dert? I deedn't thaenk she liked dert-she spaendz all dae warshin kloez an doezn't hav a grean thuemb at all. I hoep ur flew iz all goen. Feal bedder suun! *bloewz u a keez*
Caranwen: Waelkoem! Luuk, al, anuthr neu faengurl! *elf-skweee!* I em soe glaed u ar heer! *huegz an keeziz tu u!*
Newmoon: U deedn't sea eni guelz, deed u? I doen't noe if I em reddy fur dat. al sez if u sea won flieng oberhaed, doen't luuk uep. *snueggl*
Melkor's Drinking Buddy: *eyez u* Diskontint of uthurz? Maeddleeng Valar?? Paest gruedjiz? Huummmm. . . sownds eentristeeng. Due u draenk ur grean tee strate uep? *puetz 3 teekupz oen da kowntur an heetz uep da kaettel tu waelkoem u*
Anja: Haello, leedle Germ-man gurl! U maek me bluesh! *blueshiz* My kut iz alredy heeld, hannon le. I lub u tu! *smuuch!*
ren: I lub it whin u skweeeee like dat! Ar u teeklish rite hear?? Hoew abot hear?? Tea Hea! I due it like dis. . . *elf-skweeeeeeeee!!!!*
Lil' Pip: Ur Ada gitz en enuf truble all bie heemsef. Soe du u. Kin I hav dis? *hoeldz uep ur blew pokit buuk* Doen't u daer tael enibuddie whut us saew oen da enternaet, due u heer me? *groewlz*
Dunrosiel: U hav a tri pearsoenalatie? Duz dat mean u hav 3 peepl lieveeng ensied u, or dat u ar a beeg haelp cuz u trie soe haerd? *greanz and weenkz at u*
LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL!!
Arienna DyBane: Soe guud tu sea u! Boromir'z haer iz L'Oreal Eggsellense Proefessonel Hare Craem Culur Noembur 5 Meedeum Broewn. Da theater al fownd me at iz noet en a maell-it iz en a paerkin loet all bie itsef. Da tweenz wear noet dere whin I fael, soe I dunnoe if I kin coemplie wid ur rekwest tu braeng dem. Hearz a hueg fur u! *huegz*
939597: She'z NOET my gurlfraend!! if I eber sed I haed a gurlfraend, I wuld bea en seo muech truble! *hi fievz u*
davan: I deed git 2 reeveewz frum u! Vary nise, bof of dem. U muest bea pashunt wid doze dokturz. . . dey ar jest huemin u noe. U noe, it IZ haerd tu plae Oeld Maedz if da Oeld Maed iz meesing. . . . *givz u a kueddl fur trieeng soe haerd*
Aranel: OOOOoooohhhh!!!! Kin I boerroe dat won dere.noe, noet dat won, da won dat iz tuu plaesiz doewn frum da klothzlien poel dere. . . yaeh, dat won! LEGOLAS!! Oeh, nebermiend. . . . I dunnoe abot da mofz, buet I deed git sum guem stuek en my hare wonse. . . it'z a guud thaeng al noez hoew tu git dat kiend of thaeng owt. Yaes, I noe da Peder Koettintael soeng, da won dat goewz like dis. . . Hear coemz Peder Koettintael, hoeppin doewn da buennie trayl, hieppatee hoepiteee. . . Legolas, darling, could you finish up please so I can post? Oeh, okae. . .*skwatz doewn soe I kin reech an givz ua a beeg hueg*
Space Case 7029: I due lub da beeg broewn truk. Won dae I em goenna git tu driev it, I em shur. I like Dale, an Bill, an Mark, an Michael, an. . . weal, jest abot eberybuddie! Deed u sea da Balrog kar? Dat thaeng wuz oen fier frum da eensied owt! It luukd jest like da breedge at Khazaddum! Skeerie! I em glaed u rote tu me. Hearz a kees jest fur u! *SSSSSSSMMMMUUUUUCCCHHHHHH!*
Skye Rocket: Wael, I gess FANTASTICAL kin bea a wurd ef u waent it tu bea won. Hannon le fur reedin an liven life aloeng wid me! *Huegz*
Andy8: Dat sowndz jest like da beeg medal thaeng al haed her pikshur taekin oen. U kin ried a tuu whealer? WOEW! I tryd tu ried al'z biek won dae, buet I rekkd entu a trea. Doen't tael her, okae? She hazn't noetised dat it haz a leedle skrach oen da paynt yaet. *givz u a Hobbit hy-fiev*
Cara6: I mite nead u tu teech me tu ried a biek. Dose trayneeng whealz sownd like jest whut I nead. Maebee u culd teech me beafoer u goe entu da hoespital tu hav ur keedz, okae? I lub anemalz of all kiendz, wael eggsept fur dat paelmaetto bueg dat al hiet wid da roelld uep paepr an saevd me. Kin u due da makarana? Daense wid me, Melde (dat iz whut Cara meenz en elvish, deed u noe dat? I meenz 'beelubbed')*Duz da makarana wid u*
Raphael the Andromeda: Ar u hear yaet, Raphael? I weel bea waetin tu heer frum u agin! *waevz tu u wae bak dere*
Irena: heh, I shur noe wut u meen, Vaern. al 'neadz all da haelp she kin git' iz an uendurstaetmint. U muest git wael suun, rwalaer, foer I em groeweeng empashunt wateing fur ues tu meat. Dere ar maeny theengz u muest teech me, u noe. *likz leepz en aentisapashun*
LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL! LEAIL!!! Maed u luuk!! Tea Hea! I jest lub duen dat. It'z aelwaez wurse whin I hav haed tuu muech kaendee tuu. *muenchiz oen peenuet M&M'z u seant me* I dunnoe noetheeng abot a speen sykle. . . *blueshiz* Hear'z a kees fur u. . .*diepz u an taekz ur braeath awae. . .*
Mcr. . . : Hiedin owt dere, ar u?? I goet ur e-male. U kin leve me a lub ledder tu, jest cleek oen da suebmit boex an tipe in a screen naem. U doent hav tu puet an e-male adraess, an u doen't hav tu bea a meambur of ff.net. Den tipe me a lub ledder, an cleek oen suebmit agin. Uenless u ar noet da tipe dat taekz wealeenglee tu suebmitteeng? *weenkz*
The Two Princesses: Dat bueg weant rite doewn my throet! I wuz jest seengin awae, an miendin my oewn bizness, an dat bueg jest weant ZUUUUM!!! Ar u steel en skool noew? Dey due theengz bakwurdz en Awstralya frum hear. Ur M sowndz like she iz jaelus of Mees Shannon. . .duz she hav a kruesh oen me or sumptin? *geeglez* Hearz sum OOOOOOO'z an XXXXXXXXXX'z fur u!
PuterPatty: Dere ar wimin whoe waent tu waek uep nekz tu ME??? An Min tuu??? Bie da Valar! *gulpz* Mees Shannon? *swaellowz* Uuhhh. . .whie, she'z jest dis gurl whoe wurkz at da hoespital,dat'z all. *skwermz* She iz NOET my gurlfraend, noe sieree. *luukz at da bueg oen da seeling* I deed NOET kees her. Noep. *peekz my feengurnaelz* Noet eben wonse. I swaer. . . . Legolas? You have clothes that need to go in this wash I'm fixing to start? Oeh, yaeh, baybee (c Legolas) . . . deez uendurwaer ar en baed shaep noew. . . .*keesiz u tu maek uep?*
The Karenator: Hi Karenator! I sea da ff.net karenated ur reeveew!! Tea Hea! U goet da rite ideea, noew trie agin *seandz u dis beeeg hueg fur trien!*
anna: My ada wulda hed my haed if I deen't giv dat kaendee tu da laydee. He iz a vary wiez an guud keeng an father, an da laydeez doen't lub heem fur nuthin dere en heez paelase at Mirkwood. It wuz haerd, tho, eggspaeshully aftur I wurkd soe haerd tu git dem. *kueddlz u*
Arilyn: Mmmmm. . .choklit kaek. Hoew ar da waeddin plaenz goen? I hoep u ar steel keapin ur kuul en da heet. It woen't bea loeng noew. I deedn't giv Mees Shannon my nuembur. . . PuterPatty wuld KEEL me if I deed! *huegz an keesiz fur u*
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Submit quick! Next chapter is waiting only for Legolas to type up his "lub ledders" to you!