Update on Project Extra-Super-Duper Bad Throat & Flu Thing: It was strep throat - bad enough, like I said, for the doctor to utter an audible, "Ewwwwww", back quickly away while spraying anti-bacterial mist and making the strange signs at me, and toss me two prescriptions:
1. Steroids (aren't they for making things, ie Barry Bonds, larger?) to keep my throat from swelling the rest of the way shut. Yesss!
2. Penicillin. Better than moldy bread scrapings, good for all kinds of nasty stuff. Including strep throat - which... Did you know that according to Dr. Google, "Untreated, the disease can quickly lead to a more severe illness such as acute nephritis (which can damage your kidneys), meningitis, or rheumatic fever, all of which can be fatal." Meaning - I felt like I was going to die, and given a little time, the right (wrong) conditions, and some extra negligence...it could have happened. My tonsils, throat and kidneys are actually trying to kill me. Awesome!
Wait...hello? Oh, I'm sorry, you were falling asleep from my scintillating tales of throat-based woe. Here's the B section of the tale: The doc also gave me some other great news: I've got a little bump, just a little one. No, I'm not pregnant, thanks anyway. This particular little bump is located in my neck, because lucky me! My thyroid is likely acting up... again. You see, a few years back, I suddenly noticed a lot of Bad Symptoms that came up all at once, funny things like, oh, gaining a whole bunch of weight, being freezing cold, having no energy, and other yucky stuff.
There were lots of signs, that when taken individually and with the other factors in my life, weren't a big deal. Circa 2000, I was newly married, working 45-and up hour weeks, trying to occasionally make a good dinner and spend time with my new husband, switching birth control methods over and over in my endless quest to find "The One" that didn't make me feel like my mind and body were being run by evil aliens. Not surprisingly, none of these things contributed anything to make me want to say, go to the gym. I'm now quite clear on a fact: I really, truly, deeply hate the gym. Despite all programs offered, I have yet to find one that I like. Why? because I like to take my excercise outdoors, preferably by myself or with one good friend, and no one sweating on me, breathing down my neck, making me feel like a Snuffleupagus, or hitting on me.
Finally, I got myself to a nurse practicioner who cunningly sent me right over to get a blood panel and correctly pre-diagnosed me as having an underactive thyroid. This simply means a few things: My body wants to be fat, despite the excellent genes I should have inherited from both sides of my family, who are all strong, thinnish and muscular. How lovely! I should be taking medication daily, forever, just to keep from looking like a contestant on America's Biggest Loser. I haven't been taking the meds daily in a long time - At first diagnoses, I took the meds almost daily for about a year or two, and one day I thought, "Ehhhh...I feel good, even though I'm don't recognize/pretty much despise my body...maybe I should just taper off this whole medication thing..", and I did.
Sadly, I can see the future (and feel the nasty layers of flesh spreading thinly all over my body...again - perfect for summer!). I contacted an accupuncture/herbal guy to see if there were any non-pharmacutical options, and of course, there aren't. So, it'll be back to the vampires (blood draws) and pills for me before too long. Like I said, why stop now with the bad health? I'm on a roll. Arrrrgh!
- In other news: Had a lovely long walk with Christie last night - weather is still HOT!.
- This weekend starting at five -o-five pm, promises to be INSANELY busy -starting with a meeting with another vendor/knife show/wedding/more knife show.
- I just paid seventy dollars for four plants (two kangaroo paws in bright yellow-y green and two neat chocolate-brown grasses) and four bags of dirt. Dirt!