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Showing posts from January, 2018

ER, Part II

And so in continues. I went to work Monday and spent the day wondering if I was having an allergic reaction to one of the meds I was on. Cipro seems to have an endless list of side effects and reactions, though I am pretty sure I was on it years ago for a UTI. My head felt as if something was pushing to get out. It did not really hurt; it was more annoying. And my throat felt "fuzzy," as if there was something like a golf ball in there. After awhile that feeling moved down to the top of my chest. I was fine to work, just a little uncomfortable, and I really wanted to get some stuff done in case I had to call off Tuesday, which was seeming likely. Worth noting is these symptoms started as I was trying to fall asleep Sunday night. At work, I debated whether or not to call my doc, but decided against it because I feared she would just send me to the ER. After 6 pain-filled hours there on Thursday, the thought of going back made me shudder. I could also hear my bank account wai

January can suck it.

Last week sucked. No other way to say it. It started off on Sunday morning with my making Texas chili (cooking is a rare event for me), and a couple hours later my hands felt as if they were on fire, thanks to my cutting jalapeno peppers (I guess it was a delayed effect). I tried several different things, including alcohol, lemon juice, and milk, multiple times. After several hours of intense pain, I think the apple cider vinegar finally did the trick; I was fortunately able to fall asleep to just slight heat in my hands. Lesson learned: wear gloves when cutting up hot peppers (note that hub is able to cut peppers with no ill effects). But that was just a warm up (not pun intended). My left heel continued to hurt with every step I took, and fortunately, because of the craptastic weather (another reason for my January hatred) and people cancelling their appointments, the podiatrist was able to see me Tuesday afternoon. The result of that $40 copay: plantar fasciitis. The doc gave my f

Aging not gracefully

When I turned 40, I don't recall feeling older. I was in pretty good shape; I ran semi-regularly (I think!). I was still swimming and doing Zumba. But I was not working full time then, so I could be at the top of my physical game. I gave up my pool membership and Zumba mid-afternoon class once I went back to work, and I run only sporadically now, mostly because I am lazy but partially because my body fights me more often than not when I attempt to. Ah, that body of mine. As I sit here and type this, I am feeling a slight pain in my left heel. It started over the weekend, and has caused me to limp since then. Today I finally called a podiatrist. But unfortunately they can't see me for 2 weeks. Back in October I had a similar pain in my right foot. By the time my appointment rolled around (actually about 2 weeks prior), the pain went away, so I canceled. Why spend the $40 specialist copay? The hub blames it on running. I don't know. I was never a hard-core runner. At the he

I remember when I used to blog...

A handful of years ago, my attention span was greater. I looked forward to blogging regularly as well as reading blog posts of various people. But then at some point, FB took over that space in my brain, and because I had so many posts to keep up with, blogging and reading others' blogs took a back seat. I eventually started to tweet, but I mostly reserve that for commenting on or about sporting events, which I don't do with any sort of regularity. Mostly because Twitter is so in the moment; I can never keep up. But my lack of blogging means my writing skills have languished. When you type only a few sentences at a time, you can't expect greatness. And when you realize you don't have much to say beyond 6-10 sentences, but when you know that whatever can be said will take you double or triple the words necessary, well, that, folks is why I hardly blog. That and that my life is pretty boring. (Unless semi-regular Phipps flower and my dog and cat posts on Instagram excit