January 20, 2008
Playing all those virtual sports will do that to you.
Playing all those virtual sports will do that to you.
Surveying the hill.
Too late to back out.
Gone. And there he sat inside the tube waiting for someone to pull him back up.
And with dimples like that who can refuse. Well actually I can because I was at the top of hill and not about to walk all the way down. But other people can’t resist.
I am in the bathroom.
There is banging and kicking on the door.
“Jesus, will you knock it off!” I finally yell.
Then I hear a tiny indignant voice, “It’s not Jesus. It is just me, your favorite Miles.”
Tap tap tap. Why hello, I still do have a blog. And I am still alive and feeling better. Completely and totally paranoid, but better. Just ignore me in the corner with my boiled chicken breast and white rice.
Tomorrow was shaping up to be a fun day.
Last week I made plans with a friend to go a museum near us that was having free admission tomorrow. The museum is incredibly overpriced for its itty bitty offerings. We haven’t been there in three years.
This morning my daughter’s dentist called to reschedule her appointment that they canceled yesterday due to the big snow storm. She said, “I have an opening on Wednesday, how is that for you?” And I said, “That is great! See you then.”
I happily went about my day with nary a thought about this conflict.
Then I sat down at my computer this afternoon and suddenly thought about theater tickets I had purchased in August. When were those shows I wondered. I searched my email (see there are good reasons to never delete any emails) and found out that the I have tickets to a show for tomorrow. I then began an all out search through my house to find those tickets that I have not laid eyes on since September.
When I called the dentist to cancel I suddenly thought, ‘Shit! The museum!’ And then I had to call my friend and cancel on her.
While I was on the phone my daughter asked me about story time. Oh yes, THAT is tomorrow also.
And my 10 year old reminded me that he has art lessons tomorrow.
It really is a good thing that my husband bought me that Blackberry so that I could be organized, huh? And if I could figure out how to use the calendar feature and synch it to my computer I would be all set.
I was on the phone with Susan, telling her all about the plans I had made and broken for one day, when I have six other days with nothing at all going on, and Miles opened a bottle of garlic powder and dumped the entire thing on the table. Then he helpfully pushed it onto the floor. I cleaned it all up and now stink like garlic myself.
I don’t have to worry about vampires now. And really, that is a load off my mind.
“When I grow up I am going to be a doctor.”
“You are? How nice.”
“Yes. And I will cut people.”
“Oh, you mean like a surgeon. They cut people open and operate on them to make them all well again.”
“No. Not like that.”
“Not like that?”
“I will have a chainsaw.”
“And chop their heads off. And chop up their bodies.” Here he stands up on his chair and imitates how a chainsaw works and sounds.
“Just what our family tree has been lacking, Miles, a serial killer.”
The doctor appointments solved nothing, really. I had an EKG, my heart is still beating just the way that it is supposed to be, which is good. I have to schedule another thyroid scan and have some blood work done, but no one is expecting anything to come back out of the ordinary.
The allergist seems to think that I am allergic to some sort of preservative or additive or possibly a spice that is in food and that I will probably never know exactly what it is. Can I just say, AWESOME. Every time I eat wondering if I will have an anaphylactic reaction is not at all stressful.
He gave me a prescription for reflux saying that he thinks that crushing chest pain and lump in my throat might be from that. Why is it showing up now after an allergic reaction? He thinks my throat and esophagus are still irritated and so I am feeling the reflux that I wasn’t in the past. Okay then. I now feel like a 60 yr old overweight man belching in my LaZboy recliner.
As much as I scoffed at the suggestion, it has seemed to help. Where I go from here, I have no idea. My anxiety level is so high that just maintaining a normal level of functioning has been difficult.
That is it in a nutshell. Believe me I am about as much fun in real life as I am here.
I have a post up over at Work It, Mom. I give the recipe for the Italian sausage soup that I served on Christmas. The relatives all took some home that is how good it was.
I also wrote about how much I love my bread maker. I really miss eating fresh baked bread. Sandwichh bread from the store, eh, I can live fine without it. But warm home made bread?
Gluten free bread just isn’t the same. No, it isn’t.
I have an appointment with my allergist tomorrow. I still feel like crap from the last allergy attack. Though today at least I don’t feel like my chest is being squeezed in a vice. I just feel like I am dying. And I am not saying that in a melodramatic way, but in a my-body-is-failing-me type of way. Which would really just serve me right for all the years that I hated it and abused it so.
The allergist will probably end up being the first stop on my east coast doctor tour, because you know one doctor never has the answer. It requires at least a few to tell you that they collectively have no idea. And then you either get better or just ignore all of your symptoms and move on with your life. Or else you die and the coroner diagnoses you post mortem. Obviously I am hoping for the former.
At least I haven’t been cold the past two days. That is probably the most positive thing that I am going to be able to come up with tonight.
This is what you wear to play in the snow:
It is 54 degrees outside today. Making it 52.6 degrees warmer than it was last week.
I have been sitting outside in short sleeves soaking up as much sunshine as I possibly can. (Yes, 54 degrees feels HOT after 1.4 degrees)
It makes me want to cry, because winter will be coming back. It is inevitable.