Today I have half an hour to do my blog, and I am handicapped by iron lungs and a four year old trying to put a witch’s mask on me while I am typing. It’s all challenging to say the least. This has not been a wonderful week. I started out with a doctor’s appointment that was scheduled and then ended the week with one that was not.
First off was the bone density test. I read all the fine print. Turns out I didn’t have to bathe in calcium or do the twist before the test. I just had to show up in a track/sweat suit with no metal on my person. Check. I had to lie down on a table and some gadget that warned of radiation was supposed to scan me. I kept scowling at it since it had this menacingly taunting red beam that kept distracting me. Leave it to me to pick a fight with a machine--one that emits radiation at that.
I don’t know why but it made me feel claustrophobic even though I was not enclosed in anything. I felt like a large tomato about to be scanned and bagged at the supermarket. I thought I was being scanned for the first ten minutes but apparently I wasn’t so I just looked silly when I was trying to stay so still I looked constipated.
The lady administering the test kept asking me nonstop if I was pregnant. I know there were signs all over the place that warned women who might even think they are pregnant to up and run for the hills, but I was surprised that there were twenty-five different ways of asking that question to see if I come up with the same answer.
At the end of it I almost convinced myself I was pregnant! Why do people make these tests so complicated? Before I freaked out and asked her if I looked pregnant she took my word for it and we did the scan and that was that. I never called in for the results because there is only so much drama I can take.
The entire week I have been riddled with back pain. On Wednesday night it was so bad, I had taken pain killers and they didn’t work and I was in bed with two heat packs. Since the pain is on my right side, and I was feeling nauseous, I decided I had gall stones. I hurriedly googled the symptoms and confirmed my diagnosis. No wonder my father always says a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Imagine how treacherous it is to have that wealth of information at my fingertips on the internet.
P, my long suffering spouse, all the while still coughing up a lung, rolled his eyes and told me to get a grip because he was sure it’s just a pulled muscle. I was in more pain that after the birth of my daughter, Lanes, and I was not so convinced. So I called my nutty sister, who is in constant fear of me kicking the bucket. If I was going to get any sympathy, it would be from her.
I got her and her husband googling gall stones on the other end of the phone and across the border. P was wondering what he has done to wind up married to this drama queen family. In the end my brother-in-law was finding other maladies for me, my sister was almost in tears and lamenting that I was in so much pain and I had to go to the doctor and she was sad that I had no one to go with. I hung up quickly before she started prescribing medicine to me (after she wholly condemned the pain killer I took). My sister is constantly under the misconception that her PhD is akin to having a MD.
So the next day, after Lanes went to school, I went to the clinic (after having missed four buses). The doctor prescribed an x-ray and a muscle relaxant. They look like horse pills and I thought no wonder I won’t be in pain, I would have choked to death instead. Well, they didn’t seem to work, but they put me to sleep, so I guess in that sense they did their job.
The next day, my throat was on fire so I never went for the x-ray. And I got the flu. I am still suffering. I missed a lovely Thanksgiving party with friends last night on account of all this bad health. I thought it best not to go and share my germs. Lanes and her dad went and had a good time. I thought it might be nice to enjoy the quiet in the apartment and lament about my early 20s when I was living on my own, but I just felt sicker and sicker as the night progressed.
I’m about to cry because as I type this, my in-laws are landing in Vancouver and are on their way for a two week visit with us. How in the world can I razzle dazzle them in this state? I can barely breathe, my throat still hurts, my nose is either runny or stuffed up and I keep feeling really hot and then really cold. This is not good. This only happens to me. I feel so bad for them to see me in this state after such a long flight. P is terrified (as am I) that they might catch the bug from me.
So I thought I’d blog while I can. The only thing I have learnt this week is that it is self-defeating to try to eat a chocolate bar in the middle of a sneezing fit and being sick makes chocolate taste bad. Not that stopped me from plowing through two rows of KitKat. I would have had four, but Lanes decided to enforce my ‘sharing’ policy and that was that. My hips will thank her later. Here’s to a more healthy blog next week…
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