OneFatBitchypoo, if you’re interested.
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Yeah, still working on those Maine recap entries. Good god in heaven, I take a LOT of damn pictures.
Hopefully they’ll be up starting later this week. We’ll see.
I heard from my doctor’s office about an hour ago. Apparently the hepatitis tests came back clean. In other words, I don’t have hepatitis. But something’s obviously going on, with the elevated bilirubin, so they’re referring me to a GI. I have an appointment for Wednesday, late morning, in Huntsville. My doctor’s office is faxing over my test results for the nurses to look at, to see whether they need to get me in sooner.
That gives me a warm and cozy feeling, that they’d think Wednesday might not be soon enough.
Dr. Fred And3rson thinks, after much Googling about, that I have either
pernicious or
hemolytic anemia. He’s leaning toward the latter, since I’m cold all the damn time.
Wikipedia, on the other hand, offers up a bunch of
lovely, scary suggestions ranging from tumors to cirrhosis (and wouldn’t it be the ultimate in irony if I, who drinks once in a blue moon, had cirrhosis of the liver?).
Y’all get your livers ready. I might need a piece of it.
(No, I’m not serious. I’m sure Dr. Fred is quite right and all I’ll need is a B12 shot once a month or so.)
Anyway, tomorrow I have an early morning appointment with the physical therapist (think I can convince her to put me in the whirlpool tub, then give me a back massage and call it good enough? Probably not.), a late morning appointment at my doctor’s office to have an ultrasound of my enlarged thyroid, and then Wednesday I have the appointment with the GI.
Also, the spud starts school on Friday (yes, is that not the MOST ridiculous thing? To be starting school on August 4th? RIDICULOUS! UTTERLY!) and at some point during the week I need to get E’gar in for an oil change and tire rotation and balance, and I need to run out to the farm stand I like the most to buy tomatoes to have on our hamburgers tomorrow night, and ugh.
I am completely wiped out. I swear to god when I saw the doctor last week, I was feeling fine, and then she uttered the words “You have hepatitis*” and the next morning I could NOT get my ass out of bed for love or money. I keep trying to tell myself that it’s all in my head, that I’m NOT really that damn tired, that just because I have hepatitis (or, as it turns out, don’t), I can still get up every morning and walk.
But I haven’t walked since last Wednesday, and I would kick my ass for that, except I am just too damn tired. I’m ready for the fatigue to go away, and the yellow eyes (though the yellow skin could kind of stay for a while, because I really do look kinda tan, don’t I?) and for my life to get back to normal.
Have I mentioned that I sent out three resumes this morning, applying for part-time positions? Right now, I’m kind of all over the place and I’m driving myself crazy. Probably driving Fred crazy, too, but he hides it well.
He just
writes false and slanderous things about me.
(Alright, YES, I stole a couple of handy wipes from the doctor’s office. I like to have a couple in my purse, just in case, all right? I stole a pen, too, but not before I asked the front desk lady if it was okay. And she said “Sure, take as many as you want!” So they don’t care if I steal shit from them. They get it for free anyway!)
*Is it wrong that when she told me I had hepatitis, I kind of hoped that one of the symptoms of hepatitis might end up being gas, so I could call it hepaTOOTis? I know. I need a life. But I’ve been secretly calling it hepatootis to myself. And now you know the full extent of my dorkiness.
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Know how I’m always cold, except when Fred’s at work, because when Fred leaves for work, I turn the air conditioning OFF, and it gets up to 80 in the house and I LOVE it? Except that annoyingly enough, Fred has to come HOME, and when he calls to tell me that he’s coming home, I turn the air conditioning back on, because if I don’t he’ll turn it on himself, and then he’ll turn it down to 70, and JESUS CHRIST I DON’T WANT THAT. As it is, he lolls about in his shorts (while I’m wearing sweatpants, slippers, a t-shirt and sweatshirt) and bitches about how hot he is.
While my fingers turn blue.
So the other night I was shivering on the couch under two blankets (and the aforementioned sweatshirt, t-shirt, sweatpants and slippers, and don’t THINK I wasn’t seriously considering putting a wool hat on my head as well) and he suggested that I try using the heating pad to add some warmth to my ice-cold hands. And he called the spud on her cell phone (she was up in her bedroom with a couple of friends who were spending the night) and asked her where, oh spud, where might the heating pad that I TOLD you to put back where it belongs, WHERE might it be?
And she “like”d and “whatever”d and brought the heating pad down, and Fred plugged it in, and I used it for the rest of the evening, and it helped, but not as much as I had hoped.
Then Fred had the best! idea! ever! See, he has an electric blanket in his room that he only uses in the winter, and only long enough to warm up his bed before bedtime. In the summer he doesn’t use it (see above re: the lolling about whining about how hot he is) and folds it up and puts it in a corner of his bedroom. So he brought it downstairs for me the next night and we plugged it in, and I’ll tell you what – the man deserves a medal for THAT idea. Because it is sheer perfection. I can turn it on and crank it up on high and remain toasty warm for the entire evening.
I actually ended up ordering a twin-size electric blanket on eBay, because Fred’s is queen or king size, and I don’t need one that big for hanging out on the couch.
But for now, it’s working just fine. Give that man a medal!
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“What? WHAAAAT?”
“Is it time for a snacky-snack? Please?”
“I’m fading away to nothin’, Dad. I think it’s time for a snacky-snack.”
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
here.
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Previously
2005: No entry.
2004: Hawaii recap.
2003: No entry.
2002: Around the neighborhood.
2001: “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” I yelled.
2000: All hail Dumbass Bitchypoo.]]>