PISSABILITIES

I am still suffering with the sinus crud. Apparently, all of that vitamin C didn't ward off the infection that was bearing down on me. I had another night of crazy dreams and waking up on the hour. In the wee hours of the morning, as I was coming awake, I realized that Dream Me and my Grandma were lying down together having a nice chat. Unfortunately, the closer that Real Me got to Grandma, the more she faded away, meaning I was waking up. That was so frustrating that I woke up crying. Dream Me got a really nice conversation with Grandma that Real Me doesn't remember at all! I took more vitamin C, some allergy tablets, busted open some Airborne chewables and went back to bed. My rescheduled doctor's appointment was for today at 1pm, so this COULD NOT be one of those days where I lied about in bed with a migraine.


I woke up an hour later, still miserable, and decided that enough was enough. I had just filled a prescription for an antibiotic when I went to see my PCP last week, and suspected that this was where I was going. In any event, I knew I would land here eventually. (Today's appt was with my "lady" dr.) I dug around until I found it, took one, and went back to bed. At 11am, mom comes in to tell me I need to think about getting up. I am awake but I CANNOT MOVE. I have one of those migraines that wakes you out of a sound sleep, and you literally cannot lift your head off the pillow. I send her off for a granola bar so that I can take pain meds. They don't go down well on an empty stomach. And then I wait. At noon, I can't say that I am doing "well" but I am dressed and able to leave the house.

On the way to the appt, I tell mom that I should have known this was going to be "a day" because the last time I had to reschedule a doctor appt destiny wasn't kind. Is this fate telling me I need to be more on top of things? I am sure there is a message in here somewhere! The doctor appt actually went better than I thought it might. This particular doctor is a little rough around the edges, and I prefer a little softer. Her energy was better today. I started to think that maybe I was wrong.

Our next stop was my PCP's office to sign medical authorization release forms so that she could get all of my medical records. Dontcha know we even got a top notch parking spot. I was starting to go into shock at our good fortune. My PCP is *the best* and I am so thankful for her. She is getting all of my medical records from all of my previous doctors/hospitals because they would charge me by the sheet for the information, and they have to give it to her for free. In turn, she is going to photocopy it and give it to me for free. I need all of this history to fill out my Social Security Disability paperwork. They are detail-oriented. They want facts. So, I filled out the authorization forms and got that ball rolling.


On the way back to the car, I fell off the curb. You heard me. I FELL OFF THE FREAKING CURB INTO A HUGE OIL SPILL. Hand abrasions on both hands trying to catch myself, a skinned left knee, and an oil spot on a new pair of my favorite pants. Oh and my butt hurts. It took the focus off of my migraine for about two minutes. Then everything hurt. Then I started sounded like Jack Bauer on 24. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Mom offered up hand anti-bacterial stuff, which burned, and reassured me that she had cleaning stuff that would take out that oil stain ~ no problem.

My mind mentally leaped back to that summer in Colorado when I was selling books door-to-door, and I fell off the curb, and I skinned both knees really badly. I still have the scars. There was embedded gravel and lots of blood. I had to knock on a stranger's door with all that blood and ask for bandages. She was a really nice lady. Cleaned me up and sent me on my way. At least there was no gravel this time. Or blood. All that blood really made me queasy last time. And picking that gravel out of my knees almost made me throw up. What's a skinned knee and an oil stain compared to that? Still, I made a mental note to be more careful around curbs. Apparently, this could become a pattern.

We took a break for some lunch, which was mostly uneventful. Then we stopped by the pharmacy. It, too, was largely not blogworthy. On the way back home, we were reviewing the day and just talking, and somewhere in there I unintentionally invented a brand new word: pissabilities. I meant to say possibilities and it came out wrong. However, once I said it, I realized that given the day I had "pissabilities" really was more accurate, and I was going to start incorporating it more into everyday conversation when appropriate.


I looked up the definition of possibilities and it means: chances. prospects, odds. Therefore, pissabilities, by my definition means: diluted chances, melted prospects, leaky odds. Pissabilities. Use it frequently, but always in its proper context. It is my contribution to the English language.

FARMGIRL PAINTS & PHOENIX

I just learned how to do something with links and there are two people who I owe big-time thanks. One is Becky over at Farmgirl Paints because without her I still would have the icky blog that blogspot sets up. She got me started on how to make things pretty and answered a lot of other techy questions later. Our styles are completely different and I LOVE THAT about her. She has tons of people following her and still took time to help me out. That says to me that she has a HUGE HEART. If you have time to drop in on her you won't be disappointed. I promise.

The other person is Tracy, or Phoenix as she has renamed herself. She is an onion. Tracy is a young woman with many layers. Just when I think I kind of have her figured out, she surprises me ~ in a good way. I stumbled across Tracy completely by accident. That's how I found Becky, now that you mention it. I LOVE the way that Tracy writes. I like to think that Tracy writes like me. Or that I write like Tracy. Except she's less crazy. She's very funny. And I like to think that I'm funny. In my head I'm very funny. But this is about Tracy. She wrote this great blog about Ash Wednesday that is worth digging through her archives to read. Anyway, she also helped me navigate the waters of the techy stuff. More importantly, when she isn't being torn apart at the seams by life, and actually has time to read other people's blogs (and write one of her own), she is the BEST COMMENTER. And I say that without disparaging any of my existing commenters, because I have since picked up some really EXCELLENT commenters while Tracy has been on a leave of absence. Suddenly I am feeling very blessed.

Very soon I am going to have to update my BlogRoll. And thanks to these ladies I know how to do that!

THIS ISN'T YOUR USUAL PILLOW TALK

Do you ever have conversations with God? In the middle of the night I started getting this sore throat and I knew I was getting sick. I actually had the good sense to get up and start dosing myself with vitamin C. My father believes high doses of vitamin C at the onset of illness will ward it off. So, I took two or three grams (two or three thousand milligrams) and brought the bottle back to bed, since I was waking up on the hour. When I would fall back to sleep I was having this crazy dream about people returning gifts to me, and I was really ticked about it. It was really nice stuff and they were bringing it back "just because." They had no good reason. They just didn't want it. Who does that? If you don't want it, you regift it. Everyone knows that.

Like I said, I was waking up on the hour and popping a couple of vitamin C. While I was in this in-between state, I was aware of having these conversations with God about this whole crazy gift thing. Unfortunately, I can't remember now precisely what God said. The only thing I do know was that I didn't like it. It was all philosophical and God probably wanted me to be the better person. It was that sort of thing. I didn't want to be the better person. I wanted to drive across town and do some ass kicking. In lieu of that, I wanted to verbally knock someone (actually several people from the amount of gifts I remember from these dreams) into next week.

The last time I woke up, took my vitamin C, and went down again, I could see God talking but couldn't hear a thing. The mouth was moving but the volume was off. And I do remember being able to do some lip reading. Again, I have no memory recall of what was actually said. I think it was because I was still not liking the message. This time I was doing some talking of my own into my pillow. I said something like, "I am really glad that's over. You are really annoying. If you can't say something helpful, You really should just keep it to Yourself."

Did you read that blog I wrote about my mom? If you didn't, it's called THIS ONE'S FOR MOM. (Check that out. It's a link to my old blog. I actually did something techy and it worked. Woohoo. Thanks Patsy. ) Mom and I had issues in my teenage years because Mom was always so right about things. Jesus told us that God is the Father. Our Father. The Father. Everyone's Father. He is the Most Right. It only stands to reason that a person like me is going to find that extremely annoying. The beauty of that is that God understands me better than anyone else. It's called omniscience. Look it up. He's also more forgiving than anyone else.

It's funny. When I started this blog, I really didn't intend to stay stuck in my dream or my interaction with God. It was going to be my segue, that was kind of odd, into something else. Turns out that I think I know what God was saying, even though I still don't actually "remember" it. He was telling me to be more forgiving of those people who are returning my really nice "gifts." After all, He is forgiving of me when I tell Him to buzz off because he is annoying and He's God. Usually, I am the first person to love the metaphor. Today, not so much. But you get what you get.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world"
~Gandhi