This, my friends, is going to suck big hairy donkey balls. Beth does not like being stuck at home, even if she has nowhere she has to go.
Bob went back to work today, gauze pads in tow for his leaking legs, and What A Coincidence - I've no longer got a vehicle. Wait, you didn't know? Scroll back two posts.
For the sake of blogging only, because I know other people love to read/watch disasters in progress (and, because, I really do still have my wits) let's review my last few weeks:
- Bob has plastic surgery, he's home for a few weeks, he's a sloooow, leaky, drippy healer.
- He ruins three pillows with his leakiness!
- I go to my plastic surgery pre-operative appointment, and I HAVE A SEIZURE in front of my SURGEON.
- Surgeon writes ME off as a potential patient, cancels my surgery date.
- I spend five days on the neurology floor at the hospital, waiting for my brain to implode.
- I tell you the WLS Owns Me, because it gives me the low shoogahs.
- I'm told it's my fault that I have reactive hypoglycemia, because I like me some flax-seed bread.
- I perform nasal surgery on myself in the bathroom at the MRI suite in the hospital, because nobody can help me get a steel nose-ring out of my face!
- I lose the key to the locker where my belongings where stashed at the MRI suite, the locker must be forcibly broken to get my crap out.
- I get home from MRI in the middle of the night to realize (long story, didn't blog it, still pissed off about it) someone forgot to let the dog in while we weren't home, and she's been rescued and we had to bail her out.
- I tell my bosses that I can't work - because - I don't know what the hell is wrong with me (seizure) and we're "waiting" on a diagnosis so I can be medicated or at least prepared. Pay-checks (and tips) end.
- Get iron infusion for anemia that's come back - have some weird reaction to the medication.
- Have some serious low blood sugars, run out of strips, open stash of strips only to realize I'd been given the wrong type.
- Go out yesterday, to get new RX of glucose strips - and TOTAL my truck from the ice.
I don't want sympathy. I feel fine and I need ideas. I must get the bills paid, yo.
PS. On the flip-side, Tristan has the diaper rash from hell, and she likes eating animal crackers all morning Lean Cuisine for lunch, with a nakey bum.
PPSS. It just occurred to me that you'll think I'm now officially nuts because of this car issue. Um, no.
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