Now Playing -
nada.
Now Eating -
nothing per mouth until the test is completed.
Now Feeling -
crampy and achy and tired. Oh, my.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
Two words...Fleet Phospho-soda. Which is neither phosphorescent nor anything approximating soda-like, but is certainly...umm...fleet.
I don't usually do bodily function entries. Other than the fact that by now, most of you can probably see the obligatory monthly PMS-inspired entry coming down a dark alley at fifty paces, I kinda like to keep my privates...private. But I'm having an IVP test tomorrow to see what my kidneys are up to, and that necessitates some preparation. Including the ingestion of the above-mentioned, inaptly-named Phospho-soda.
Vile, vile stuff, kids. Ginger-lemon flavor, my ass. I managed to get it down by taking huge gulps, and barely letting it hit the back of my throat. Yep, chugging seemed to work well on the laxative front. I can understand why the eating disordered would find laxatives so compelling - how can the food do you any "harm" when it leaves you so quickly? Shades of last year's two food poisoning episodes. Except at least this was expected. But between that, and the period cramps (just call me the Queen of Good Timing), and the kidney pain, and the "nothing by mouth after midnight" including pain killers, I am not the Happy Camper. Oy. I feel like such the alte kaker.
Ah, well. This, too, shall pass. In a manner of speaking.
In Minnie news, she seems to be doing a little better. More verbal, eating by herself, and there's more movement in her legs. We're attributing this to her fever going down and being back on the Excelon. Maybe there is a chance that she'll regain some of the cognitive function we thought was lost. That would be a blessing.
My sister-in-law is flying in for the weekend. We're going to have her over for dinner tomorrow, so she'll get to see our swanky abode. Which means that after my test, I'll need to shop for food, do some much-needed laundry, tidy the bathroom, and somehow pick up a gift and wrapping for a surprise party we're going to on Saturday. This woman's work is never done.
Last week, in an attempt to get my mind off hospitals and doctors for a while, I journeyed to my decorating Nirvana, my personal Balm in Gilead, IKEA and bought us a coffee table. And some baskets to put in it, to hold the myriad catalogs I manage to accumulate.
And...
and...
I Queer Eyed my husband! Well, just a little. We'd seen the episode in which Carson (like anyone in his right mind) decried the use of wire hangers. I hate 'em. Huz uses them, if only for the fact that they tag along with the dry cleaning. So I bought him a bunch of nice, sculpted wooden hangers; because if I'm going to buy him lovely dress shirts, I don't want to see them losing shape on crappy wire hangers. There, now you know. My inner Joan Crawford has come out.
Speaking of Balm in Gilead, I've always thought for some strange reason that "There is a Balm in Gilead..." would best be followed by "...Mighty Casey has struck out." But that's just me.
Quick...scroll down the page, willya? See that bright yellow button down there? Little further...there. Ah, hell...here.
Do me a favor - click on it and vote for the picture. And put MY MOM on a Jones Soda bottle! I love that photo. I scanned the original, and have it framed. And I think it'd look rather nice on a bottle, don't you?
I'm supporting Marn in the Jog for the Jugs!
You can too! And since the run is this Sunday, if you headed on over to her diary and gave her some encouragement, that'd make me really happy. Because she's a pretty cool broad, that Marn. For a Canadian...
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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
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