I have never actually been an addict of any kind (uhhhh... eating all the chocolate in the house so that there's not any chocolate in the house to tempt me doesn't count on that score, right?), so this may be completely off base, but I think the process of going off this stupid medication that never actually worked for me has been a lot like withdrawal. (Maybe. I have no idea, like I said, but hey, I'm a squeaky-clean, middle-aged, middle-class woman who saw Trainspotting once. Or something.) Basically, you know, I'm fine, and it's no big deal. Except that while I was taking this med, I was...
Do you have any coffee? No? It's because I've taken possession of All The Coffee. I drink it all day long, now, instead of just my usual mug in the morning. You know that song Smoke Two Joints by Bob Marley? That's me and coffee, now. I drink two cups in the morning, I drink two cups at night! I drink two cups before I drink two cups, then I drink two more! Unlike the song, however, it doesn't "make me feel alright." It makes me feel... less like death. But still very sleepy. Monkey was kind enough to come down with some sort of cold this week (step right up, come see the miracle boy with no...
Hey, remember that time I broke my hand on an apple and turned into a cyborg? Good times, man. That was almost a year ago, now. It was year ago next month, in fact, though I wasn't thinking about that at all this week. After the surgery I did months of physical therapy and then also kept going back to the hand surgeon for rechecks because my hand remained kind of weird and deformed for a LONG time, prompting him to keep saying, "Let's have another look in a couple of months." And then I'd go back and he poke and prod and finally my hand mostly looked like a hand again and he said, "Okay,...
Because I know everyone is terribly concerned about the state of my bladder, I'm happy to report that all is well. I am also somewhat perplexed to report that---after going to the doctor first thing last Wednesday morning for this issue---I didn't get a call from the doctor's office until the following Monday evening to confirm that yes, indeed, my urine culture had grown bacteria and I had an infection. (To my credit, I didn't respond to that with, "No, REALLY?") I mean... nice of them to let me know... three days after I finished the antibiotics. When I questioned the need for the call at...
When I wrote about our trip to Atlanta on Monday and all of the traffic we encountered, I included the tidbit about desperately needing to pee to illustrate how very unpleasant the whole ordeal was. When I reread what I had written, I had a moment of, "Do I really need to talk about how much I had to pee?" Because: pee. (I sure am saying "pee" a lot, here.) But I left it, because what's a little pee between friends? Also, WOW was that uncomfortable in the extreme. Well HEY, GUESS WHAT! Today I learned that if you wait a really long time to pee when your bladder is full, that can give you a...
If you've been around here for any length of time, you know that food and I enjoy a close, fulfilling relationship. Other than that whole gluten thing, food has generally been good to me (maybe a little TOO good to my thighs, but it means well) and I love to eat. I eat just about everything. Food good! Food delicious! I very much like food! (I'm not sure how or why I turned into a bizarre cross between Cookie Monster and the Hulk just then. Forgive me.) Having a kid who has a complicated relationship with food has been one of those things where my internal How To Handle It computer simply...
About two years ago, I went to a new optical place to have my eyes checked and to get new glasses. Some quick math reveals that I had already been living in Georgia for... erm... three and a half years, by then, and it was my first eye exam in this state. Prior to then, I'd just assumed my prescription was fine and not bothered with an exam. Oops. But by the time I went in, I was having trouble seeing. I knew I needed an updated prescription. So off I went, and I was introduced to the wonder that was the ocular pressure testing wand and I got fitted for daily contact lenses and it was all...
I was doing so well. Getting stuff done! Being a paragon of productivity! I should've known it couldn't last. So, uh, I don't know if I mentioned this, but my therapist---who is awesome but seems to find sport in making me freak out about all manner of health-related things---asked me earlier this week if I'd gotten my flu shot this year. I am normally RELIGIOUS about my flu shot, seriously, but my primary care doctor has been out of vaccine and it kind of slipped my mind for a while. Anyway, my therapist was sure to tell me how this is the worst year for flu in a decade, blah blah blah DOOM...
Monkey's birthday was delightful. I didn't even mind getting up early to make cinnamon rolls for him to bring in to school to share with his buddies, because he's just so darn delighted by it, and it doesn't hurt that our intrepid Hippie School head teacher always tells me what a great baker I am. Yes, it's all totally selfless, when I do this. Pay no attention to my preening in the corner. (Hey, I take affirmations where I can get 'em, people.) I'd actually made the dough the night before, and done everything short of baking them and making the icing---the rolls were in the fridge proofing...
