OK, I know I said I wasn't going to whine on here about not feeling well, but bear with me for just one post.
While we do not yet have any sort of diagnosis, we are making progress on what I DON'T have. That is the good news. Meanwhile we are plodding along, moving from specialist to specialist trying to get some clues and rule more things out. Last week was pulmonologist week. Next week is neurologist week. (Don't worry - I promise not to blog about proctologist week.) Not only do I have the doctor's appointments, but each doctor - God love them - wants to schedule me for at least one or more (sometimes horrifying) tests. What this means is that I am usually making two and three trips out each week. You know you have been to the hospital registration too often when they actually recognize you and ask if you are feeling any better. Add to this that I have a kindergartner who goes to a school with no busing, and starting Tuesday Cal Henry goes to preschool two days a week in the opposite direction as Jude's school. Some days I feel like I need a flow chart just to keep up. (My husband wishes...)
Here is the absolute kicker - I can't drive right now. I want to drive (if I had my choice it would be a big ol' Ford F-150 extended cab truck, but at this point even the Kia minivan is looking plenty pimped for me), but I really can't. You wouldn't think driving would be too difficult, but by the time I get the boys out the door and strapped in their carseats, I am already exhausted. And since I every so often decide to faint, my husband has hidden my keys. Even though I feel like crap, getting my new dog seems to be on hold (oh, I will blog about that one day soon!), and my house has been dirty for a month now, the biggest frustration to me by far is that I can't drive.
Mark and I have been brainstorming how to get to appointments, school, preschool, and tests all while getting him back to working full days. And I have come up with the perfect solution. All I need is Morgan Freeman. You remember that movie "Driving Miss Daisy"? Yep. That's what I want. I want Morgan Freeman to drive me around in my Kia minivan. I promise to be a good Miss Daisy. I wouldn't been nearly as crotchety as she was, and I certainly wouldn't ever snipe at him while he takes me to the Piggly-Wiggly (but Publix is not out of the question because they do have the best produce). I would let him take cans out of my pantry and not accuse him of being a thief. I would even spring for his slushie if he drove me to Sonic!
So if anyone happens to know Morgan Freeman's phone number, I sure would like to give him a call and see if he would be available just until I feel up for driving. In the meanwhile, we will work on an adequate Plan B. I just know it won't be as fun.
OK. Whine over.
While we do not yet have any sort of diagnosis, we are making progress on what I DON'T have. That is the good news. Meanwhile we are plodding along, moving from specialist to specialist trying to get some clues and rule more things out. Last week was pulmonologist week. Next week is neurologist week. (Don't worry - I promise not to blog about proctologist week.) Not only do I have the doctor's appointments, but each doctor - God love them - wants to schedule me for at least one or more (sometimes horrifying) tests. What this means is that I am usually making two and three trips out each week. You know you have been to the hospital registration too often when they actually recognize you and ask if you are feeling any better. Add to this that I have a kindergartner who goes to a school with no busing, and starting Tuesday Cal Henry goes to preschool two days a week in the opposite direction as Jude's school. Some days I feel like I need a flow chart just to keep up. (My husband wishes...)
Here is the absolute kicker - I can't drive right now. I want to drive (if I had my choice it would be a big ol' Ford F-150 extended cab truck, but at this point even the Kia minivan is looking plenty pimped for me), but I really can't. You wouldn't think driving would be too difficult, but by the time I get the boys out the door and strapped in their carseats, I am already exhausted. And since I every so often decide to faint, my husband has hidden my keys. Even though I feel like crap, getting my new dog seems to be on hold (oh, I will blog about that one day soon!), and my house has been dirty for a month now, the biggest frustration to me by far is that I can't drive.
Mark and I have been brainstorming how to get to appointments, school, preschool, and tests all while getting him back to working full days. And I have come up with the perfect solution. All I need is Morgan Freeman. You remember that movie "Driving Miss Daisy"? Yep. That's what I want. I want Morgan Freeman to drive me around in my Kia minivan. I promise to be a good Miss Daisy. I wouldn't been nearly as crotchety as she was, and I certainly wouldn't ever snipe at him while he takes me to the Piggly-Wiggly (but Publix is not out of the question because they do have the best produce). I would let him take cans out of my pantry and not accuse him of being a thief. I would even spring for his slushie if he drove me to Sonic!
So if anyone happens to know Morgan Freeman's phone number, I sure would like to give him a call and see if he would be available just until I feel up for driving. In the meanwhile, we will work on an adequate Plan B. I just know it won't be as fun.
OK. Whine over.
Comments
I just heard about your predicament from Angela at the Gaile Reider Memorial. As president of your fan club, I apologize for not knowing sooner.
You know what the problem is, don't you? Too many years since a creative team meeting! ;-)
I remember your withdrawal problems after only a few weeks.
Seriously though, know that you have one more person in prayer about this.
I expect to see you on the stage on Broadway in no time!
Love & prayers,
The Pres.