( women medical stuff )
The images will be read on Tuesday, because of Martin Luther King Day on Monday. My doctor's office will be informed of results on Wednesday, which means that I should have results Thursday or Friday.
Two minutes later, it's my DOCTOR on the phone. "Hey, lady!" she chirps at me. "You have a history of leaving this too long. I want to see you today at 3:45, do you hear me?" (Yes, ma'am.) I was a bit taken aback, because one does not usually get to speak directly to one's doctor on the phone. I guess that's what you get when you've been one of her patients through three of her office moves and nearly twenty years.
So, it is, in fact, walking pneumonia. I have a 'script for antibiotics. I have filled it. I will take them all. My doctor is pleased with me for coming in now, because I was at the start of things going deeply south, as opposed to deep within danger territory.
She asked me if I knew it was her on the phone. I told her that yes, I'd known, because she'd called me "lady," which she always does.
"Well, I always DO call you a lady, because you are," she said, nodding at my ankle length skirt, silk blouse and teacher jacket. "But that does not mean you get to die of ladylike diseases like lung rot or consumption or any such nonsense." I laughed so hard, I did start coughing. And she complimented me for coughing into my elbow, too.
So, thank you all, for strongly encouraging me to go get seen. I can start stepping out on the road to recovery now.
If I breathe too deeply, I cough. If I climb stairs, (like, the six steps up from my classroom) I'm getting dizzy. I'm thinking seriously of going to the doctor's, but I'm not feverish, just short on spoons. And getting my classrooms ready for a sub takes more work and effort than just showing up at school. Although I've had more behavior problems, because I'm not ahead of the game anymore, but reacting to events afterwards.
The boyos have been very helpful with keeping up with their little sister. Sparkle was laid very low over the weekend with coughing and a high fever. She spent a lot of time clinging to my neck like a limpet. (This is unusual for my wiggly worm.) I'd've enjoyed the cuddle time more if I hadn't been so worried about her. I shouldn't have bothered; she's bounced back better than I have.
( cut for length, and PG surgery details )
So, the operation was a success, and the doctor's assurances that I will have a full and quick recovery are a balm to my pre-operation nerves, and I will still be able to sign away to my heart's content, after my bandages come off.
( the hospital experience, cut for those who hate any references to dentists. )
So, the operation was a success, Sparkle's teeth are whiter, and gleam in the back, and I am relieved that it is over. At least until Monday, when I get a cyst removed from my left thumb before it compromises any more hand movement and feeling.
Sparkle is actually pretty unfazed by it unless she sees herself in the mirror. "Mama. My eye is RED," she says, impressed. Yeah, kiddo. Wait a couple of days, and it shall be your favorite color, purple.
Naturally, this is right before her 7th birthday and those pictures. Our daughter, the bruiser. We go to the doctor's tomorrow for a medicine checkup, so I'm sure they'll check that out, too.
Doctor's visit today. I really blew off January as far as doing what I needed to diabeticaly and diet-wise. Back on track in the past couple of weeks. Test numbers weren't great, but certainly better than I had been dreading.
Dropped my banjo off at the guitar maker shop recommended by robin_june and braider It was with a pang I left Burton at the shop, but I believe in good hands. The gentleman checking it in said the proprietor had a tenor banjo just like it. He said it would probably be looked at first thing tomorrow morning, as the luthier "saves" special vintage instruments for first thing as a treat, and to make certain of a long stretch of time to which his attention can be devoted.
Having a bit of time, I stopped by a Barnes and Nobles on the way to the doctor's, in order to pick up the latest Mary Gentry book. In the SF section, I found A Local Habitation, by Seanan McGuire! It's not officially due out for another week or so, so I was really excited to see it.
While I was admiring it on the shelf with satisfaction, a random dude (Older than college, younger than me, but cute in a geek gamer way) came up to me in the store and told me that the elves in this book were "for the sh*t," and were written the way they ought to be, "truly terrible." I looked at him oddly, and he said that elves weren't supposed to be sparkly and cute, but dangerous and terrible, and the author really got it right.
He looked happy that I picked it up, and pushed for me to get the first one, which I was able to tell him I already owned. I told him that if he wanted to meet the author herself, he should come to Marcon this Memorial Day here in Columbus. I did not do the one-upmanship game of claiming to know the author, outwardly at least.
I've started reading it, and already like it bunches. Off to finish it, because I don't like putting it down.
( the med stuff expanded... )
My other blood tests are also good: normal blood sugars, normal cholesterol, normal thyroid, meaning my meds are on track. (Yes!)
Now, I just need to eat less, and exercise more, lose weight, and get off the blasted shots by making my weight goal. Oh yeah. The hard part.