Enough already

Okay. So. I'll be brief.

I don't want to turn this into one of these "woe is me" blogs, and also I'm writing this laying on the floor. So here are the Cliffs Notes.

1. I'm on the floor because I tweaked my back yesterday morning getting my kid out of the car. Sitting, leaning, and now walking are extremely painful.

2. Last Thursday, I spent the night in ER because my gall bladder tried to kill me. (Interesting side note: it took 6 hours in emerg to get seen and diagnosed. Twitter diagnosed me of this errant gall bladder in under an hour, and OVER A YEAR AGO. Conclusion: fuck the ER, we need to work on getting Twitter the ability to prescribe meds.)

3. The extensive bloodwork the gyno did came back with very high levels of thyroid antibodies, which usually indicates an autoimmune disease like Graves or Hashimoto's. My mother has Hashimito's, and yet this doctor is the first person to test for it.

TL;DR version: Apparently I have "best before age 37" stamped somewhere.

ANYWAY. Fuck you, whoever is sticking pins in my voodoo doll, because I still have an adorable kid, Alfred, friends who would help me move a body AND hang out in the ER with me til 3am, a kickass job, family, and pie.

 

Also, a prescription for morphine that they gave me at the ER.

(Take THAT.)

 I'll be back soon with something cheerier, or at the very least weirder.

State of affairs

So this is the current state of affairs in my basement.

2011-10-19 18.06.01

Grisly, right? (Actually it’s probably tidier than before.)

They’re only about half done tearing it out. In a few days there will be nothing left but concrete walls, a concrete floor, and a few spiders that are extra bitey because they’re pissed off about not having anywhere to hide.

And probably that fan. I think every basement gets one, standard issue.

They are taking pictures of what they find, in terms of mold and general grossness, and every day I sneak down there and flip through the photos and start to feel like I should retroactively be developing pneumonia, blacklung and, um, pleurisy or something. Then I run back up the stairs because mold spores can’t climb stairs.

Everybody knows that.

(Ugh, is it mould or mold?)

In other news, that Something that was pretty much Nothing turned out to be actually Nothing. I can’t say I recommend having a Trans-Esophageal Echocardiogram done, because that part was about as horrible as expected. My gag reflex may never recover. But, as the cardiologist gleefully told a waiting Alfred, “your wife is perfectly normal!”

Then he had to clarify that he meant just my heart because Alfred has a lot of evidence to the contrary, and he’s not afraid to share it.

So that’s the update from me. How about you?

Where did I go?

Oh yes.  Zee blog.  Zee blog!  Christ on a cracker.

(I realize that possibly, as an agnostic/atheist/non-Christian, I may not be allowed to say “Christ on a cracker”.  But I do believe that Jesus was probably a real person, if not a miraculous one, and, as such, may have rested on a cracker at one point or another.  As one does.)

Where did I go?  Uh, nowhere, really.  I went to bed at 8:30pm every night for three fucking weeks straight, is where I went.  The Un Mom household has been not a whole lotta fun this summer.  The shorty brought some gross phlegmy cough home from daycare, and then another one, and Alfred hadn’t gotten over the first one so he developed pneumonia.  The second gross phlegmy cough hung around in my head for 2 weeks, and decided to become a sinus infection.  It hasn’t actually gone away but I’m staying awake past 8:30pm out of sheer stubbornness.

Somewhere in the middle of all that coughing and whining, Alfred’s dad passed away.  I had an occasionally contentious relationship with my father-in-law, but I always knew him to have a good heart and a lot of love.  I’m not sure any eulogy I could write would really do him justice, so I’ll just say that he will be very, very missed.

So that’s where I’ve been.  I’m sure something else has happened in the last four weeks.  I know I bought some groceries.

How about you?

Meta.

Blog blog.  Blog bloggity blog.

Blog!

Blog blog blog blog. Blog blog blog?

Blog bloggity blog.

Bloggity.

 

(I keep trying to write a post, and that is what comes out.  So feel free to curse at me.  In fact, give me your most creative swear words.  Lay it on me.  My vocabulary has been lacking of late.)

(OBVIOUSLY.)