Being Sick Is Boring. I'm Sorry.

Larry drove me to the doctor this morning (because I was still too hysterical and hungry to be coherent on my own) and I explained to her that I still couldn't eat without pain. So she said, "Okay, we'll do a CT scan, just to rule the scary stuff out. Just drink these 2 HUGE bottles of barium first."

????

CHEERS

So that was hard. I choked down most of the first bottle, but only half of the second, because I thought I was going to start puking up all my hard work if I drank more. And I did the CT scan, which was totally easy and space age, except the iodine stuff they put in you, which feels really weird. And then we waited around for an hour for the results. We were sitting there, each of us looking at the news on our phones, and Larry said, "You know, you have the best ideas for dates."

Finally the doctor called us back in and said everything looked normal. So she's sending everything to the specialist and in the meantime is treating it like an ulcer, although ulcers don't just pop up out of nowhere - usually you're having stomach/indigestion problems for a long time first. Which I wasn't. Go figure.

Larry drove me home and I took my proton pump inhibitor drug, like an old person, and then gingerly ate half a turkey sandwich (hey, I lost 6 pounds since the last doctor visit. I'm HUNGRY) and a few grapes. And then I had a stomachache. I ended up sitting around all afternoon, reading a book that is a true account of a person's stay in a TB sanatorium, because I really know how to cheer myself up.

The author is the same person who wrote the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books, by the way.

I don't sit still very well, so I also took a walk. In the awful humidity that insists on hanging around these parts, even though the leaves are turning and it is SUPPOSED to be fall.

Yeah, I'm cranky. And hungry. Since lunch I've eaten a small apple and a spoonful of ice cream. It was medicinal, because I figured the dairy might soothe my theoretically ulcerated stomach. It's science, people.

Starvation Diet

Do you know where 4 weeks of intermittent stomach pain and lack of sleep and food get you? It gets you well nigh hysterical. Don't worry, I'm going in tomorrow again to see the doctor. Now I'm thinking it's an ulcer, which is distressing but way better than all the other possibilities running through my head earlier this evening.

What an awful, awful day. And I miss food.

So, yeah, I probably shouldn't even be blogging, but old habits die hard. I can't even remember what I did this weekend. Yoga, probably, and knitting, like all my other weekends. Wow, I really like to change things up around here.

We sent Susie away on an AHG (Catholic Girl Scouts, essentially) camping trip, which should have been fun but - according to her repeated tellings - was not. Something about stinkbugs and spider-y cabins and a hike to nowhere. Yet her troop leader tells me she was the life of the party all weekend. Go figure.

Actually, there's something different I did this weekend - the AHG troop needed an extra driver, so I drove a bunch of the girls to their campground. It supposedly has treehouses, but they are in reality tiny elevated cabins. You know, because camping isn't inconvenient enough, so let's make people drag ALL THEIR GEAR up a steep flight of wooden stairs.

These particular cabins had built-in wooden bunks, wide enough to sleep 3 or 4 girls. And here is where my Jewish upbringing PTSD kicked in. I took one look at those multi-person wooden bunks and thought, "Auschwitz."

Being Jewish is special.

So, anyway, I left my daughter with her friends at a place that reminded me of a concentration camp. Weird parenting moments for the win!

I saw a Google Maps car today,
in case you thought my life was boring

I'm rambling. My stomach still hurts and I'm scared to eat, because if the pain gets worse, I will freak out. And, if the problem does turn out to be an ulcer, that means my go-to migraine remedy (Excedrin) will no longer be a viable option, as it has aspirin in it, which unfortunately has a tendency to eat holes in one's stomach.

I am not exaggerating here when I say that, without my Excedrin, I cannot manage life. I am panicked. Also, hungry - have I mentioned hungry?

Random Friday

Tomorrow, I get to drive. Rachel has a dentist appointment, that we can no longer walk to. Then one of my elderly clients has a hair appointment. After that, I am transporting 5 tween girls to a weekend camping trip over an hour away. And then I am driving straight back home, because nothing in this world could induce me to spend the weekend camping with a bunch of tween girls. NOTHING.

All in all, I'll be in the car for over 4 hours. In a perfect world,  I could get somewhere exciting in 4 hours. But that's not what is happening here.

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Random photo: I made these

Idea: Could we just stick Kim Jong Un and Trump in a room and let them fight it out? They obviously have issues with each other, and the rest of us just want to get on with our lives.

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Looks like it's a random thoughts night. That's okay, no one looks at this on a Friday, anyway.

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I'm already dreaming of Halloween candy. That's normal, right?

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Good news! I'm off the hook for planning something amazing for Larry's 50th. He just found out he has to travel for work and will be away for the big day. Whew! I told him we'd make his traditional cake and send him photos of us all enjoying it without him. I mean, he'd want to know we're thinking of him, right?

                                                                      **********

And that's all I've got. Feel free to be random in the comments, you lovely anonymous weekend readers, you!

Keeping The Faith

My current version
of snake oil

So I finally Googled my stomach pain symptoms (I hadn't before because I didn't want to inflame my natural hypochondria, although really, I was already imagining the worst, so why not?), and it looks as though I have sludge in my gall bladder (not to be too technical or anything). Lemon juice, LOTS of water, castor oil compresses, and lecithin supplements are recommended. I've spent half my day in the kitchen and the other half in the bathroom.

So. Much. Fun.

But at least I have hope that someday I might be able to eat somewhat normally again.

Today, Susie and I went out to buy some challah for Rosh Hashanah. Now, remember, Susie is the youngest child in our interfaith family. Many years ago (20, to be exact), we belonged to an interfaith families group at a local synagogue. I took Theo and Anna (and David, but he was only a baby) to a challah-making workshop there. We even had a picture of Theo in the local paper, working on his little braided loaf.  Over the years since, we've colored in placemats for Chanukah and kids' Haggadot for Passover. We've spun dreidels. We've made hamantaschen.

What I'm saying here is, I've made an effort to ensure that the kids are aware of their heritage on both sides of the family - Catholic AND Jewish. And when my parents were alive, this was easy - they'd visit and celebrate the Jewish holidays, etc., with us. I was really rocking the interfaith lifestyle, is what I'm saying, even if I did complain a lot. (Hey, you try navigating 2 major holidays every December. It's not for the weak, I'll tell you that.)

I hadn't realized, as the older kids left, and my parents (aka the Jewish side) passed on, that I was missing the mark. Not until today, that is, when I said to Susie, "It's Rosh Hashanah! Let's go pick up some challah to dip in honey." And she said, "What's challah?"

Yeah. Major Jewish parent fail. Oy vey.

Excellent for
self-flagellation

All the way to the bakery, I alternated between mentally chastising myself for my shortcomings as a parent and reminding myself that, hey, I have 2 adult children who are currently living IN ISRAEL. I'm not sure you're allowed to average out the religious upbringing of your offspring that way, but it will have to do. The long and the short of it is, Susie is growing up in a completely different family than did her oldest siblings, and I need to accept that.

But first, let me beat myself over the head with this mezuzah some more. It just feels right, in a Jewish guilt sort of way.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of Cheese...

I have to drive to the dentist in 20 minutes with the kids. We used to be able to walk there, but then our pediatric dentist had the nerve to move her office further away. Some people only think of themselves, you know?

Anyway, Susie's still annoyed at me because I made her get braces back in July (she NEEDED braces). The poor kid cried herself to sleep the first night she had them on, saying she didn't like having things in her mouth. So, yeah, if you enjoy feeling like garbage over every important decision you make, then parenting just might be right for you.

In the meantime, I have an appointment for a crown that I've had to cancel twice, and now I just don't want to go at all. I sort of lost my dental momentum, you know? Also, I'm tired of spending money, and for the life of me I don't understand dental insurance rates. When someone says they'll pay 40% of an unspecified amount, it doesn't really matter how good you are at math, you can't figure out the answer. And believe me, I AM good at math.

Susie ate this in front of me. She's mean.

I'm still eating low-fat so I don't set off those stomach pains, and really, this is a very unsatisfying way to live. I try telling myself that I've been allowed to eat what I want for 54 years, and that's a pretty good run. But that still doesn't make me any less sick of grilled chicken. I threw caution to the winds today by putting the chicken on a bed of lettuce and sprinkling that with a tiny bit of feta cheese and a teeny amount of Italian dressing.

I know! I'm wild and crazy.

It didn't taste that good. What's worse, I felt really old, chomping on my flavorless healthy meal while avoiding the back tooth that needs a crown. And the first person to tell me to use low-fat dressing is getting blocked (I mean, if I can figure out how to do that). I swear, I will not go gentle into that dark night.