Chris told Ant that I was out of commission because I had a biopsy to check for cancer. Ant was very concerned and kept asking me what was actually done. I ran out of vague responses so finally I beat around the bush (That was a truly awful euphemism, yes?) until he understood what kind of doctor I had been to. Then I explained what a biopsy was and he begged me to stop so to distract him, I told him about how someday he could look forward to a colonoscopy. He was truly horrified, so then I distracted him further by dropping the bomb that our next activity would be digging through the kitchen trash in search of the small metal paddle that goes to the bread machine. That proved to be quite a distraction indeed, but we found it. It was at the bottom, of course, amid lots of disgusting, distracting trash.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Oh yeah, and
Surprise!
You just had to say something about my streak of good days, didn't you, Ma.
Well, that night after we talked, my mouth started to hurt terribly. I took a Vicodin that made me drowsy, but didn't touch the pain. I could sit up and watch TV at about a 3, but as soon as I would lie down the pain would crank up to an 8 and the throbbing made it impossible to stay horizontal. I would have been a cranky bitch if Chris had been keeping me up all night, but he kept rubbing my back and massaging my jaw muscles. I would get really tired and lie down only to pop right back up again. This went on all night until I set up enough pillows to keep me mostly upright. I sleep on my side, so it took some retraining before I could fall asleep in that position. By this time, of course, it was time to go to work.
Chris drove me in and I had another Vicodin with breakfast. I was groggy, but in that lighthearted exhausted state where everything was amusing. It helped to know that I was tired- to label it a rough day and just remind myself to ride it out. My first call was a very cranky patient who tried to bully me, but I was unflappable. (Thank you, Vicodin.) I was still in pain, and the nurses I work with were hovering. I was told the left side of my face was swollen, to put ice on it, and switch to ibuprofen. My coworkers were so kind. My cubicle neighbor gave me his dentist's number, promising she'd work with me on payment. Another coworker sent a request to my doctor for a referral to the VA dental clinic. We had a pot luck that day and I tried making a banana bread in the bread machine, but it looks like I need to adjust for high altitude. I wasn't going to partake because I didn't have anything to contribute, but they insisted. The monthly pot lucks are for birthdays, so I got sang to and a cute card with lots of really genuine sentiments. It was so nice.
So the ice pack was working, but I took some ibuprofen as a preventive measure. I was told I could take as much as 600 mg and I did even though I NEVER take that much. It was too far past lunch and it was overkill and the next thing I know, I'm trying not to vomit. I felt better with food for a little while, but then the nausea would return with a vengeance. It got so bad so fast that I could not even glance at my computer screen. I felt like an utter ding-dong. I would have been fine to get through the day had it not been for OD'ing on Advil. Big Dummy.
So I was encouraged to hit the walk-in dental clinic in the morning and sent home. Chris came to pick me up and we tried to find some diet ginger ale at 7-11, settled for diet 7 Up and made it two blocks before I told him to find me a nice shady spot to toss my cookies. He pulled over behind the Toys R Us and I crawled into the grass while Chris took pictures of me like a dutifully asshole boyfriend should. Nothing was posted to Facebook as far as I know.
At home I fell into bed and napped- apparently the pain reducing qualities were not all left in the grass- and by that evening I was sitting in my chair working on my puzzle. The pain was back down to a 1 and I slept well.
This morning I went down to the VA and signed in to the dental clinic only to be politely invited to take my happy ass back down to primary care for a referral. I signed in there and settled in to read The Hobbit. I got a phone call from the Women's Health nurse asking if I could come in sooner for my appointment.
"Well, funny you should ask..."
So now I get to go see the girl doctor, wheeeee. Goddammit. I get called in by the nurse for my regular doctor, and we discuss teeth. She also believes diabetes ought to get me into dental, and checks on that referral request. No dice. Not enough information and my A1C is below 8. What is my A1C, anyway? 7.9. My nurse rolls her eyes and says she'll chase him down between appointments, so I'm free to head over to Women's Health.
The girl doc takes another patient in ahead of me and explains it's because that exam will be quick.
And mine's not?
"Don't you know about the procedure you're getting today?"
"Procedure?"
Oh boy. An abnormal pap will get you an automatic colposcopy, which is not a name that truly reflects the horrifying nature of this procedure. In fact, I just referred to WebMD to get the name right, and read that they use a special microscope to LOOK at the cells. Oh sure, they LOOK at the cells, but first they have to rip said cells off your uterus. Three times. With something called punch foreceps. Big shocker: this procedure was developed by a man.
Long uncomfortable story short, it was done before I had time to stress about it, and I will spare you the gory details. The nurse asked if I had been planning on going to work afterwards, which I was, but she assured me that was a bad idea. I did have to go back to the doctor after that, and he put in the referral for dental. I went back to dental, was promised the soonest available appointment, went to pharmacy to order my pain meds, then FINALLY went home to lie down.
Sheesh, what a morning, huh? What a week, actually, and I am exhausted. But tomorrow is Friday, a payday Friday at that, and there is a referral into dental so things are looking good. But I will surely sleep hard tonight.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Jenny Deere
"You have been so helpful," he said. "What is your name?"
"I'm Jenny," I said.
"Jenny! What a perfect name for you. Jennys are reliable. See, that's what you would want to name a tractor."
I laughed pretty hard at that. Allow me to remind you again that the female version of a jackass is a jenny. Apparently I belong on a farm. I can totally envision that, by the way. Who knows- I'm already baking my own bread and my next project is learning how to make pickles. I don't even like pickles! Chris would be on board- I can tell you that. He is already trying to grow squash and tomatoes. He would love to live on a farm and I have always wanted a goat.
But Jennyway, I will live on that compliment for weeks, at least. Especially on what he said next:
"Everybody should be lucky enough to have a Jenny."
I concur- even if he meant a tractor.
Monday, July 30, 2012
It's always in the last place you look.
What an awesome evening.
First off, Ant found his key. He couldn't find it before he left on his trip, and I've been after him since he came home. Today he begged Chris to make him another copy so he could be free again. Never mind that I've strictly forbidden this. We made him a special key not to be cool, sadly, but to know when he's lost his key. See- before, when he'd lose his key, he'd just go take one of the spares until I needed to loan one out and find there were none. There is a similar story here about scissors, but I suspect you are familiar with that one.
So I get home from work and Ant meets me at the door, showing off his key. Then the two of them start telling me about their day, interrupting and running each other over until they found their way back to the beginning.
First they put more holes in the walls to arrange some acoustic foam, but that means we're delaying the added cost of an external studio space for a while. Chris sold some of his old stuff- or traded it I should say- for a guitar. Well, most of it went towards the guitar, but he kept out a significant portion for an outdoor antenna. That doesn't sound romantic at all, does it? But consider that we don't have cable and won't until I feel comfortable signing up for any other monthly payments. And consider that we have bunny ears and Fox and ABC. Now consider that this is the first year that I was really looking forward to watching the Olympics.
Chris tried to surprise me with a giant outdoor antenna and he and Ant worked hard in the heat to get installed before I got home. Chris didn't even play his guitar until the antenna was working and TA-DA! It got the same two channels we already had. Ah, Red Rock.
Oh, but what an effort. I was so touched that they tried to go to such efforts just so I could watch the Olympics. They told me all about their efforts from putting together the antenna to dragging cable lines across the house. Chris said he had to send Ant to put on a sturdier pair of shoes and Ant grabbed his snowboarding boots. In one boot was his key. Of course- where else would it be? If that wasn't weird enough- Ant remembered PUTTING his key in there. Time for some lengthy looks at the ceiling while I shake my head.
So instead of watching them, we talked about stories we'd heard about the Olympics while the boys broke the antenna back down and tried to fit it back in the box.
Ant volunteered to remove himself over to his friend's house and let us have a date night at the ballpark. It was a lovely night together- and the Aces won. One of Chris's coworkers gave us seats behind home plate, so we had a great view and a great time. Chris filled the tank on the way home so I can go straight to work in the morning. I'm writing this now because Tuesdays at work can be busier than Mondays- and because Chris is playing guitar. :D
I'll put on a movie and he'll wander in here soon enough, but for now I wanted to document what a nice night I had thanks to my boys.
Six-Minute Blog
That's why kind of day today is going to be.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Sistine Progress
It feels like I should be further along on this, probably because I have been neglecting it. Now that I look at it though, I realize that in mostly one afternoon I have surged ahead. Suddenly it seems about halfway completed.
Now to apply that same idea to my office and other projects that seem to perpetually hover in an uncompleted state. They will be done at some point in another surge of productivity, but then there will be other projects looming and I will never be done, but Better Homes & Gardens is not reality. I will just take comfort in what I get done whenever it gets done.