TheMommyBlog

Wednesday, April 22, 2009 Family

It’s a little more unique than The Mommy Blog, which frankly, sounds like The Kleenex Blog, or The Cell Phone Blog. I mean, if there are going to be a million of something, don’t you think that the first one to call themselves that thing will feel stupid when they become a genre instead of an individual?

I’ll take it one step further and call each post “Ugh.” Then we could have:

• Ugh: Part One
• Ugh: Part Deux
• Ugh: Part Drei
• Ugh: Part D

And so on.

Well, I went to my doc today to have him read my lab results with me in person (and I KNEW something extra would come of it, like actual, detailed information). I hate going to to doctor. In fact, he was in an entirely different building now, half a mile from the old one and I almost walked into a plastic surgery center where the old one was. On second thought I maybe should have picked up a pamphlet.

WHY, when there are bad habits in an office, do they travel with a move? I know it’s the people, not the location, but get this: I was reading a National Geograpic, saw an ad for a minivan that actually didn’t suck, read the specs, thought, huh, that doesn’t sound familiar, flipped to the cover and saw that it was dated July 1994.

FIFTEEN YEARS OLD, people.

If you’re moving a whole huge medical office, toss the damn magazines and get a few new ones! In the examination room, I picked up a Time while the nurse repeated everything I had told the last two people before her and would have to tell the doctor when he got to me thirty minutes later, and commented, “Oh, this one’s new—I can tell because Obama’s on the cover.” She just looked at me. I said, “The magazines in the waiting room date back fifteen years.”

“Oh! I guess we’d better get some new ones!”

You do that.

The bottom line is that I have an acute case of Parvovirus B19, common in children, not so much for adults. It’s painful, debilitating, and no one knows how long it will last. Could last months, or years, or, hell, as long as a National Geographic Magazine for all we know. So, when I feel good I can go about my business, and when every muscle aches, I get sleepy, and my skin gets hot and clammy, I need to sleep.

“Listen to your body. It’s telling you what it needs.”

Well, thank you, Dr. Chopra.

At least I can feel better that I didn’t treat the kids as if this whole “tummy hurting” thing was an attention ploy. When my seven year old says she can’t go to school because holding a pencil hurts, I gotta believe her. Who knows that little factoid? Know what else hurts? Typing. Yes! And mousing. Yet I continue in the hopes it will feed my family. When their appetites return.

By the way, I think I should be far better rewarded for not being able to eat anything for four days. I’ve lost one pound, and I am not amused.

It’s almost time to watch the previous episode of Lost, this time with those helpful hints that pop up to give back story, since there’s no new episode this week. Phil’s in SF having dinner with his brother (I really wasn’t up to it but felt sad since he lives in NY and we rarely see him), and went so far as to sit down and make eye contact when mentioning the above. I said slowly, “I get it. I will watch Lost while you are out.” He nodded, and was satisfied.

Ooh—also—I’m getting kind of excited for my trip to Chicago next week for the Love Your Veggies Retreat. Not only does it sound yummy, but it’s a chance to visit my home town. Is it tacky that I put a notice on FaceBook announcing I will be there April 27-30 and asked if anyone wanted to meet up? Well, who cares—two old friends have already replied! Pfffbbbt.

Going to get a blanket and a glass of wine and the remote.