Communications with immunes

I'd like to send a little letter to my immune system.  Apparently we've had a fight and now it's a full on war. After my gargling practice, I thought Virginia the Virus was gone. Apparently he's back with full vengeance and madder than a cat stuck in glue.

Which makes this fight a little worse - especially since it led us to Walgreen's with crusty eyes. Too much information? Sorry - it's the truth, as ugly as it may be.

So instead of enjoying the gorgeous day out, or getting the kitchen finally done, Virginia and I made our way to Walgreen's so we could hang out with other coughing patients for a few hours. And when I say a few hours, it's no exaggeration - two and a half hours.

And after my sweet husband dropped me off and ran to Starbucks for me (bless that man) he ran home to wait for me. So when he finally came back - and after an adventure with Hawaii 5-0, he came to pick me up and informed me that I was really putting a damper on his Saturday - and laughed.

I'm almost positive the Walgreen's security cameras were able to get my crusty daggers recorded.

After getting all my goods: eye drops, sudafed and some sweet nasal cleanse (which will be sitting on counter until the last possible time to use it - cause that is nasty) Virginia the Virus and I are over. And Irene the Immune System should be crawling back to me quickly!  Well - let's hope cause apparently I'm not fun when I'm sick.

Getting In My Veggies

So after my last encounter with my nemesis, I was able to redeem myself a little. After being sick for a week, I went to the doctor and was sure to wear the lightest clothing I owned and shoes that can be removed easily.  I needed to be sure that I was as close to being in my birthday suit as possible without actually having a naked party in the doctors office.

Lucky for me it worked. Or should I say the diet of soup of milkshakes worked well.  Apparently having a canker sore in your throat does wonders for your waistline. But then I got medicine and was able to eat whole food and my theory about my new fad diet went out the window. However I was able to go back to hell my workout class again this week. I also found out that I have a new nemesis: Gliders.

And not those paper kinds.  Those little disk things that apparently are the new workout wonder toys. Ugh. My thighs are cringing just thinking about them.

But back to my good news at the doctor. And actually I had two good pieces of news. 1. I lost some poundage. Of course it probably went right back to my hips after the Easter bunny was kind enough to bring treats, make biscuits and gravy and sweet potatoes with enough brown sugar to put a diabetic in sugar shock. (Okay, the Easter bunny didn't do that cooking, but my Mom and MIL did - and it was delicious!) and the second piece of good news: I don't have any issues with my body that causes me to gain weight.

Wait. Crap - while that news is good, I obviously now have to find the real reason that I am storing fat on my thighs like squirrels storing nuts for winter. And no, I am not letting the fact that I have an addiction to all things sweet be a reason. That is what keeps me going Brit Brit style crazy on people at work. And Tony.

So after my "good news" my doctor asked me about my diet. I informed her of my protein intake, my lack of carbs at most dinners due to my Atkins loving husband and left out everything about my sugar intake. Of course the next question coming was how many fruits and veggies I have been eating. Oh vey. Not much.  I mean, there is the occasionally fruit on Sunday dinners or showers and parties, but unless its a grilled asparagus, not much. Especially since my grocery shopping is spaced out and the veggies/fruit that sit in our fridge is not as appealing, thus going rotten a bit later.

Apparently I should try and incorporate more of those healthy things in my diet. And we have been. On Monday night, I added salad to my taco salad bowl and since one night of cooking is pretty good for Tony and I in a week - I made sure I ordered the veggie pizza last night.

Fine, if you say so.

Veggie-tastic. Boom.

Put a little Cheese with that Whine

So I'm sick.

Like, called in sick for morning sick.

Sick like could fall asleep while driving home from work today.

Like, popping throat lozenges like their gummy bears sick.

Sick like, "I'm just going to lay down for a few minutes," wake up 4 and half hours later sick.

Sick like, I'm almost positive my tonsils are so swollen, they are probably touching and giving each other high fives with their germs sick.

It's pretty awesome. Thank goodness I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. Of course, that probably mean that I have to get on the scale again. Rude. But I'm hoping that with the amount of water, and fewer amount of carbs that I've been eating, I've done okay.

So what does my sickness mean for you? It probably means we have another carrier monkey on our hands under the 3 feet height. It also means that I attempted to write a blog - and attempted to be funny - and failed. It was so bad, I'm pretty sure 'See Dick Run' could have been included as one of my sentences.

Hopefully they will load me up on drugs tomorrow at the doctor. Cause how is it when you are you sick, everyone else gloats about their health and how much they can do.

Especially those runners on Ward Parkway. Yes....I see you running and yes the soundtrack of Chariots of Fire does play through my head. Your ponytail gently swaying in the wind does me jealous and want to urge to throw on my tennis shoes so I can run for five minutes  two minutes before gasping for air (oh yes, that two minute run is when I'm in good health....stop judging me).

So here's is to the doctors making sure my large nodule on the side of my neck sure that it's not tumor. I'd hate to break out into my Arnold via Kindergarten Cop impression....it's still work in progress.

Hopefully I'll be back to regular programing soon. Until then, hold tight and be ready for some fishing and kitchen redo adventures. I'm not saying I caught my sickness from our back splash tear down, but those fish probably had it out for me.

Nurses Should Wear Protective Head Gear

Going to the doctor's office is never fun. Lately - it's ended in tears, or rather the tears begin while waiting on the always quiet paper covering table.

Now there is never news that I am dying or I have some sort of life-threatening disease, or news that I am soon going to be covered in warts that have no cure. While I am thankful for the news of all this non-real health history - my tears begin welling on the dreaded walk back to the scale.

Enter doom music and the urge to punch the nurse after she moves those dang numbers.

While always hoping that their scale is wrong - and wondering why it always has to be out in the open where all eyes can see - hello - you get a nice little copay from me and other 74 people waiting for 45 minutes, maybe it's time to take that little extra cash and invest in some scales in the rooms. This is not the Biggest Loser - I don't need the feeling of standing in a sports bra and tight shorts showing off all my business - I digress -

Via weheartit.com

While hoping that the scale is wrong, you find out, those suckers don't lie. And you automatically regret that Popsicle, along with the bowl of ice cream, the two dove chocolate and the final Hershey's nugget, you ate last night. But seriously, that can't be all factored into this morning's scale of doom.

Ugh. Dumb doctor's office. Then it gets worse - believe it or not - you roll your fat self into the exam room, where they bring up your history - including weight.  Pretty sure they then take that as time to make themselves feel better - silently judging and thanking their boss that they get to wear comfy scrubs to work - laughing that you squeezed your rolly polly behind into your jeans.

From there you can't stop thinking about the scale. So it's really no wonder when the nurse asks about your medications you tell her your taken depression medication - but you aren't really, you're just to dumb and large to figure out that just because your ALLERGY medicine starts with an "S" and a depression medication that you've seen advertisements for being in an "S" as well - are not actually the same thing. Ugh. I think the rolls on my stomach are making my brain dumb.

But then the doctor comes in. Oh boy. After exchanging stories of our workout classes, I wonder if he was actually listening to me - I'm pretty sure Sally, Nancy, and Susan who lead your 'scultping' class, are not the same ones as mine. But thanks for the tip to try racquetball - I'll give that one a go.

via weheartit.com

 

Other lists of suggestions: do an hour and 15 minutes of working out 6 times a week. So you're saying my cardio/sculpting class that I am taking which I am wanting to collapse on the floor immediately is not enough? Apparently I should take your class from Susan.

Judger.

Obviously after taking his "suggestions" he ordered some tests. YES! Maybe something is wrong with my thyroid or metabolism and it's not the amount of chips I consumed at my nephews birthday party! Doubtful....but I am holding out hope....or it's going to be a long summer consumed with celery sticks, carrots and water.  Good by cupcakes, I'll miss you.

via weheartit.com

So there you have it, doctor's offices make you cry. And a word to all my doctor's office nurses: I will be bringing gloves in three months for my checkup. This is your warning.


PS. Did I also tell you that I was referred back to my pediatrician from my other doctor. Dude didn't even give me a lollipop after my visit. Rude.

How to Make a Trip More Interesting

 
 

College roommates - I see some have shrunken since then....ie girl on far right. Dang it.

Step 1. Travel with Jennifer.

Yep. This girl has a travel reputation a mile or two long....and she knows it. So all who travel with her know to add at least 90 minutes to the scheduled pick up time...for Jen. However just because she might always be the late one, doesn't mean she cause you to run on the plane.

Oh yes. Our weekend began by running onto the already boarded plane. But first someone had to get stuck in security....i.e. me. I blame Katie for my cute Stella & Dot bracelets for causing to be flagged in the security line, but I digress. Why were we running to catch our first flight? Well, let's just say we are not great at listening for the boarding call....and we would rather drink our Starbucks and enjoy the people watching that happens at KCI - hence the running on the plane.

And one would think that would be enough for one weekend trip. But oh no. While traveling with Jen, I've also learned that she dislikes the elderly. After running on the plane, I spot her toward the back of the plane, trying to save us a couple of seats, and using big hand gestures that might make others think she was directing the plane, but she obviously was missing some large orange sticks. Obviously she was trying to direct an elderly couple who didn't grasp the concept of saving seats to the completely empty row across from the aisle she was currently standing in.....but apparently this couple only enjoys row 28 on the right side of the plane.

And instead of taking the completely empty row, only the wife chose to sit next to Jen. Leaving the husband to finally take the middle seat behind our row. Which led to Jen hating the elderly.

When I finally sat down, the elderly man decided to talk smack to us. Oblivious to what had just taken place, a bystander would think that Jen had decided to body slam the couple into the cargo area of the plane. Or at least, pound them like they were a piece of chicken.

Instead, Jen had tried to nicely inform them that her friend was just stuck in security and was arriving soon and just needed one seat. Leading to Jen hating the elderly.

Of course to add to Jen's hatred - we were also lucky to get the evil eye from them as we saw them in the terminal of Oklahoma City and on our next flight. Luckily for Jen, we were able to sit far away from them on our next flight.

So for those of you who may have to travel with Jen in the future, please beware of her lateness and hatred for the elderly. Keep her away from all of those with hearing aids and walking canes.

See that fist? It does damage.

Step 2. Make sure the waitress gives your preggo friend the non-alcoholic drink.

It's been brought to my attention that my friends and I cannot figure out the difference between an alcoholic and non-alcoholic drink. Which is not great for our friends who are carrying children and just want a fruity cocktail.

Make sure you have preggo take pictures by herself.

While at dinner, our waitress at the sushi restaurant decided that Sara's belly was just full of beer and she wanted a full glass of coconut rum. This waitress also took our credit cards away for 45 minutes, so I don't think she was all that competent in the first place.

However, apparently a virgin strawberry daiquiri doesn't exist in her vocabulary. And after three of us tried this "virgin" drink - apparently we are all lushes and really enjoy a strawberry daiquiri. And big balls of liquor, get your mind out of the gutter.....cherry's full of liquor are delicious and dangerous.

Don't worry Chris, we made sure Sara's actual drink has zero amount of liquor in it - and gave the balls of liquor to Jen.

Step 3. Thank God your road rage friend has sturdy seat belts in her car.

I would say that I have moderate to average road rage. I would also say that Kansas City is a pretty easy and non-threatening place to drive and contain that rage. That said, I would times my road rage by 72 for Lauren.

It's really nothing new - all who ride with her have seen this rage. In one instance where we took a major road dip in Manhattan, I do believe the phrase, "Jimminy Christmas, Lauren!" was used by her now husband.

So it's not a huge surprise that after spending some time in the large metropolis of Houston that such rage has increased. By 34. Which is one reason I let Jen enjoy the front seat. Lauren, I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but I might have feared for my life for a moment or two this weekend. The better news, is that your seat belts in your backseat have a great locking system.

You also owe $57.29 to Tony's shave fund.

Step 4. Don't trust weather.com.

Apparently they are teasing when they say it's supposed to be 82 and sunny while you are on vacation in Houston. Or maybe you read it wrong and Kansas City was supposed to have that weather while you had 79 and overcast.

Also - they are need cameras when letting you know if you have cloud cover or not. I don't know how weather.com decides what "cloudy" really is when giving the forecast, but let's just say they are wrong.

Attention weather.com - the girl on the right needs the sun.

Step 5. Try on multiple items at Nordstrom Rack.



And finally Step 6. Be sure to travel Southwest.

But please beware when they decide to "inspect" all their planes due to a large gaping hole in the roof.

Also - after this minor incident - be sure to let your parents know when you land. Especially since you texted them when you took off, but forgot to text them when you land. You may be married now, but you will probably still keep them up at night wondering if you are just circling Kansas City to land.


So there we have it.....some simple steps to make a trip to Houston more interesting. While I would not advise anyone to really use these steps as a guide, I would be a big proponent of using these of a how to not.

Oh and be sure to take 1 of 2 pictures actually at the airport

Thanks to our great hosts in Houston - we had a great time and are glad to see you are having fun in that new city of yours!  See you soon!