The Month of Not Awesome

So. Friends. The year of awesome. It's kind of hit a snag. A snag called February. Aided and abetted by March. I have a theory that involves a conspiracy in which both February and March have a Friday the 13th this year and this upsets the balance of the universe and everything goes kaput. Basically, everyone I know has had a rough couple of weeks lately. We have not found any evidence to the contrary around here, but we'll keep looking. Mostly life got derailed by this:

I got to have my first ever surgery, which was totally rad, and now I can act cool at parties. Since some of you have wondered what the heck we have been keeping from you, here's a quick rundown of the party, hopefully without too many graphic details, But if you are at all squeamish, stick your fingers in your ears and hum Hakuna Matata for a minute and we'll rejoin you on the other side.

Basically, what happened was my IUD freaked out. For the uninitiated, that's a type of birth control device that I will let you research if you so desire so we don't have to say scary words in public. But mine didn't stay where it was supposed to, and instead poked a hole and started floating around my abdomen. Which sounds a lot scarier than I suppose it actually is, because most doctors agree that in the highly unlikely event this happens, you won't really feel anything and it shouldn't cause much damage. Which is strange, because I had a ton of stomach pain for about 2 or 3 weeks in a totally different spot than where my IUD was hanging out and they're not really sure why and are not entirely sure if it was the IUD or a random, coincidental, unidentified ailment of mythical origin. Medical mysteries are so hip right now. But basically, I spent a few weeks trying to figure out this pain with a rather unhelpful general practice clinic, who seemed to be unsure whether they had any interest in practicing medicine. After a week or two of their adorable shenanigans, I ended up in the ER because that's how the cool kids get things done. The doctors there were pretty sure they were going to get a pretty picture of my appendix trying to explode and instead got a nice shot of my IUD playing hide and seek, which I already knew and had tried to tell the crazy clinic but I don't have a medical degree so you can see why they were reluctant to trust my opinions. Then my OB finally got involved, which in retrospect we should have done much earlier because we get along great at parties, and he was all, "Dude, let's cut you open and take out that sucker because it hasn't paid rent in like three months." And I was all, "Sounds totes amazeballs, you doing anything tomorrow my brother?" And just like that we popped into the hospital for a few hours and I've been IUD free since 2015! If you guys approve I'm going to be putting that bumper sticker on my van.

So there's the skinny. It's been a bit of a bummer because it's really killed my exercise dreams and I've had to push back some of my athletic ambitions, like running a half marathon in April, becaue apparently you can't just wake up the day of and swig a 5 hour energy and ace those things. Stupid training programs. And all this occurred while some other pretty sweet things were going down, like Ethan needing eye surgery, our niece crashing her car, Jessie's dad and about twenty thousand other people we know going to the hospital (it's where all the coolio people hang), everyone getting sick with colds, and a dozen other little things that aren't really impressive on their own but with their powers combined, they are Captain Planet!

But, never fear. Optimism springs eternal in the Utah snow and I have faith that there is some awesomeness left in this universe. Hopefully once we get Ethan's eyes all unwonkified and make sure everyone is healthy (don't worry, we'll be sure to have them cleared by Captain Crazy, MD at the We Hate You Medical Clinic), we shall continue to identify ways we can make your stay on Planet Earth more pleasant and set great records and in general be too cool for school. Just everyone do me a favor and exercise a little superstitious caution this March 13th. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to make sure my kids aren't blinding each other with Shout spray.