Awesome things

You should all become regular readers of this page...

My computer's dead.  Really.  Black screen of death, message inviting you to bend over and kiss it goodbye, sayonara sweetheart, dead.

The wedding planning is coming along fine, though so far we've only receive about 15 confirmations of people coming, and 2 confirmations of people not coming.  That means the majority of people invited are attempting to kill me softly by waiting until the last minute to let me know. 

Today I was really surprised to learn that one of my best girls isn't coming.  An A-lister.  One I thought for sure would be there.  She has a busy life, and has other things going on.  I know that, and I understand, but I made her tell me she was donating a kidney instead because it really does hurt my feelings, even though I don't like to admit that.  I know there will be more people who can't make it, and there will be more A-listers who can't make the trip, but I suppose it's true that the first cut is the deepest.  At least she had the decency to call and let me know instead of just sending the card back with a big glaring zero.  But still.  Ouch.

Oh well, that's more barbecue for me.  :)

Well, it's been a while, huh?

Last week EVERY freakin' tree in Virginia decided to bloom at the exact same time and in doing so the flora in the state tried to kill me.  Seriously.  Between my allergies and asthma, I was struggling.  Wheeze in, cough out.  The wheezing was pretty bad, but the coughing was so rough I sounded like a barking seal.  Wednesday night I seriously considered going to the emergency room because I was on the verge of not being able to breath.  I think PB seriously considered dragging me against my will.  It was wicked bad.  I did have a doctor's visit scheduled for Monday already, so I made it through, and when I saw the doctor yesterday he put me on a 5 day course of steroids to decrease the inflammation in my lungs.  I sound much better, and I'm breathing much better.  I still lose my breath in the middle of talking sometimes, but I'm getting there. 

I saw an ENT today who was complete unhelpful, and really was a jackass.  The MD wanted me to see him regarding some weird stuff going on in my ears (now and chronically), and with the potent allergy and asthma reaction last week.  I get there today, 2 days into my high-dose steroid regime, and the ENT says, "You don't have any problems with your ears.  What your doctor told you is a bunch of bull-pucky."  He went on to tell me that he doesn't know what the other symptoms in my ears are, and that they wouldn't show up on a hearing test, but "if it will make you feel better, you can come back and we'll do one.  Do you feel better now?"  Ummm, no, to tell you the truth, I really don't.  And I won't be needing to come back and spend more money in your office to have you tell me that there is nothing wrong with me because you can't see anything today.  Even though what the MD saw yesterday was different, and he put me on a mega dose of drugs.  And with a chronic history of ear infections and tonsilitis, and with hearing squeeking and crackling in my ears ALL THE TIME, you really don't think there's a problem?  Nope, I'll be seeing someone else, thank you very much.  Does that make you feel better?  No, I didn't think so either.

Another new patient, another new, well, pseudo-crisis.

Directions to the patients house include:  Patient has many dogs and birds.  All are nice.

Holy shit, people.  I'm afraid of birds.

So I give her a call on the phone to set up our Saturday morning visit.  (Yes, Saturday.  Ugh.  But whatever.  This past week was kind of rotten, but only because my coworkers mother had the nerve to have a stroke without my permission.  Gheesh.)  I ask her about the bird situation.

Me:  So are these birds just flying around everywhere?  Like, are they going to fly at my face or anything?  Because even if they're really nice and whistling show tunes, I'm probably going to freak out.  Because I'm actually kind of afraid of birds, and I'm going to think they're trying to peck my eyes out.  You know, even if they're nice.  And sing show tunes... with jazz wings.

Her:  Well, they're chickens.  They're chickens, loose in the yard.  Are you afraid of chickens?

Me:  Well, I'm not as much as other birds.  Really, if the chickens charge me, I'm probably just going to run straight at them at yell, "I'll eat you!  I'll eat you!  You're delicious fried with 11 secret spices!!!"

I think I made her cough up her OTHER lung laughing. 

If only she could have seen this...