I've been going downhill lately, but I've been so busy, I didn't really notice. Not until this morning when I couldn't get out of bed, and when I did, the room sort of swirled. I'm not a real complainer (about my health anyway, everything else, yes) but this morning, I told DH, I need to go to the doctor's.
"I have to go to the bank."
Not the sort of romantic answer you hope for, but it will have to do. "I'll take a shower first."
I did. He returned with donuts and an iced mocha. All is forgiven. Who needs compassion when hero is bearing espresso? We head to Kaiser. This is my first real experience with Kaiser since we just joined. I must say, it's run like a well-oiled machine. Take a number, list your complaints, get seen by doctor, who consults with neurologist and I am outta there with a neatly packaged set of steroids. Or as I refer to them, "inspiration in a pill".
You see, I can't sleep on steroids. So I write. It's how I started this job in the first place. The circle of life -- sicko style. It's been so long since I had a MS flare-up, I honestly didn't recognize it. I mean, I knew I was getting run down, but I've never been a great listener. Unless it is none of my business, then, I'm all ears.
So when I don't listen, my body shuts down. Just like that. Stops working and says, rest or else!! So I rested. Watched an all-day marathon of "Leave it to Beaver". Dang, that show is hilarious. But wow, no wonder men of that generation are disappointed that wives don't kiss them, and rub their back when they come home two hours late and say, "Well Ward,you're finally home. I thought you'd be home two hours ago. Your dinner's in the oven. Might be a little dried-out by now." Yeah, that happens.
It really was a setup for mass disappointment. Mrs. Cleaver didn't have a lot to do with her life. This is apparent by the constant needle work she does while sitting around the house in her starched dress and pearls. Plus, she doesn't seem smart enough to think of anything on her own. "Ward, there's a paper on the piano you need to sign for the Beaver to take music lessons." Why? Does she not have her own signature? She certainly is not in possession of any hormones.
Enough of that. Paula Deen is deep-frying lasagna. And I have a little time to kill.