St. Petersburg Garden

St. Petersburg Garden

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Furry little man strikes again

Thankfully I did not marry a man who snores. Considering I am also a part time insomniac, this is definitely a good thing. Part time you wonder? Yeah, yeah, I'll explain. I generally have no trouble falling asleep. If you were to ask the husband he would tell you that I've missed many good shows but I can't help it - the couch is too damn comfortable. So the falling asleep part is not as hard. It's the staying asleep part that is hard.

I'm a lite sleeper. Always have been. This came in very handing while babysitting. It might come in handy some other day - if a burglar is in our home, if zombies take over the world, if we're on the run in a lawless society and must take turns resting. I can't figure out any other benefits at the moment although I'm pretty sure if zombies do come into play I'll be extremely happy about my heightened sleepless skills.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I've been waking up every night at 4am. It's been a regular occurrence for the past month. I went to bed a few nights ago feeling pretty tired. This could be the night. I thought I was in until morning. I might make it. Imagine my irritation when I woke up at, yes, 4am, to the sound of snoring. You've got to be freakin' kidding me. I'm getting ready to prepare the old elbow catapult when I rolled over and saw Mike sound asleep. No noise, no movement. Just sound sleeping going on next to me. Yet, there was that noise. Wait. The snore. That pitch. It was coming from down below.....

All 10 pounds of snoring beast - Charlie was at it again.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Man Finger Resolution

Yes, the saga of the man finger continues. When we left off, my little digit was the size of sausage proportions. It looked like it belonged on a platter at an Italian restaurant. I was waiting for my blood work to come back - all was normal - so it was off to the Orthopedist for me.

After going through my history and how I had juvenile rheumatoid arthritis (or as I now found out "allegedly" had), I inform him that I will not take any medicine that will make me gain weight. I have my priorities in order. I'm told it's most likely tendinitis but with my history it's best to see another doctor and it's off to the rheumatologist I go.

At Doc #3 we get right down to business, I waste no time. I tell him I don't care what the problem is I won't take anything that is a weight gainer. He gives me a little laugh; I seem to have that effect on people. I elaborate so he doesn't think I'm too crazy. I've already gone through the steroid fat stage once and I don't need to relive that. I know pain and I know fat. I'll take pain hands down any day.

Weeks of worry are now over - final diagnosis - tendinitis for sure. That's it. Nothing more. Sure, they don't know what caused it, why it started or where it came from. Who cares, it's nothing that can't be fixed with a little shot of cortisone. Which is what I got. Pain, not fat. First choice every time.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Pity - Party of One

I used to think I was destined for great things. There is a name for that - Delusions of Grandeur. Reality has finally sunk it. Reality sucks. Badly. Maybe it was a rocky delusion. Perhaps it came and went. I don't really know when it started. Ok, I'm lying, I know. The first time I didn't die was when it started. I was 12. Although I didn't realize it right away - it took years for that to build up.

I won't bore you with the details but a childhood illness left me fat, angry & depressed. For years I blamed my mom for not letting me die. By the time I was in my late teens I figured if I hadn't died, I must have been saved for something great. Enter car accident #1. The car was totalled and yet, not a scratch on me. Here's where I'm starting to wonder that greatness must be headed my way. Still, years go by and nothing. What the hell? College comes and goes. Nothing, but I'm having a great time so no worries. Enter car accident #2. This one's not so bad. I can let it slide as just a warning.

Graduation. Real world. Crap. This part is not fun at all but greatness must be around the corner. I can feel it. New York City is my playground. It's waiting for me to conquer it. Nope. Not so much. Enter car accident #3. This one, well, not so good. But damn angels must be flying all around me. The car is a goner. We rolled a few times - I'm all banged up, broken rib here, puncture wound there but I'm generally ok. Do you know why? I'm destined for greater things! Those angels were all over me because there's no way with all of these things happening I can still be fine. Greatness is getting closer. I can feel it! Um, where are you greatness?

I'm still waiting. It hasn't happened the way I planned and then I realized that I was waiting for great happy, wonderful, joyous things. Sure, I got greatness all right. I got great pain, great debt, great drama, great bad luck, great miserable jobs & now I bequeath myself a great big pity party. I'd have myself a big glass of wine but I'd get a great migraine.