Well, today while the rest of the world was glued to their television sets anxiously awaiting a seasonal weather change prediction made by, of all things, a large rodent, I was off on an auto-immune adventure. On a side note: My sincerest apologies to all you meteorologists out there with $100,000 in student loans you're struggling to pay back so you could tell the world about the weather, only to be upstaged annually by a friggin huge rat. I think we should have an Al Roker day or something like that, just to show some love to the human weather predictors. But, back to my adventure. You see it seems my family is the family you want to procreate with, if by chance, you are looking to hit the auto-immune disorder jack-pot. If it's an auto-immune disorder, and you can name it off the top of your head right now, I can almost guarantee some poor bastard in my family has it. I told you that, to tell you this, my daughter, who is now 10, was diagnosed at age 3 with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis, thanks largely in part to her awesome gene pool. Today I had to drive her 2 hours to a hospital to see a new pediatric rheumatologist because her old one retired. Anyone who knows me well, knows that in addition to my pathological fear of different kinds of food touching on my plate, I am also deathly afraid of driving in big cities--especially big cities I have never been to before. I had 3 drivers lined up to take us to this appointment. I made my best efforts to plan ahead and have back up drivers B and C, in the event that A or B couldn't go, I would still have C to fall back on. I guess I forgot how crappy my luck is, because A, B, and C backed out YESTERDAY when I had no time to find a D driver. So I had to hoist on my big-girl panties this morning and drive her to the appointment. It wasn't that bad of a drive, although I did have several small panic attacks trying to find a place to park in the parking garage--stop rolling your eyes, have you seen how many people get accosted and murdered in dark, scary parking garages on Lifetime Network? Anyhow, I liked the new doctor. She was very thorough and had a big list of things we need to do. Now my daughter has to start aquatic physical therapy, get custom inserts made for her shoes, and wear braces on her knees. All my daughter heard was, "Yadda, yadda, yadda, swimming." YAY. She loves having her favorite sport prescribed for her year-round.
Finally made it back home and walked past the dishes in the sink from breakfast with a slight cringe as I suppressed my OCD urge to jump on them and scrub. If I stopped to do them, I'd never have the energy to take off my make-up, feed the dog, and change into my pajamas, so I passed the buck to my daughter. I am so exhausted from running to a different appointment every day this week and only getting a few hours of sleep every night. I am also worn out from hearing my mom harping on me to get a job. WHAT JOB? Has she met our economy? I've been applying for jobs since August and I either don't get called back or I'm told I'm over-qualified because I have a degree. Besides that, I have been practically bed-ridden for the past four months from this hellacious lupus flare and I'm still not what you'd call "well." My rheumatologist was looking for the "effed up" box to check off on my diagnostic sheet when I was there yesterday! I don't feel well enough to work a full time job right now, besides how would I fit it in to my never-ending schedule of doctor appointments for my daughter and me? My mom says if I just force myself to get up and pretend I feel good that I will start to actually feel better. Yeah, yeah, and if I think happy thoughts and sprinkle fairy dust on my boobs they will float back up to their younger perkier position. Whatever. :-P
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