It’s pretty much guaranteed I stink to high hell right now. I’ve been sick all weekend, not deathly ill, but enough to make me roll around in sweaty hot flashes while sleeping. And I didn’t shower yesterday. Why shower when you’re not feeling well? Why bathe when it’s known that you won’t be leaving the sofa, let alone the apartment, all day? It’s allowed. I allow myself to wallow in my own sick when I actually am sick. So when I woke up this morning and the water pressure in my apartment was shot, I mean it wasn’t even trickle pissing, I was a little disappointed. I waited for about fifteen minutes before I went down and bitched to the manager who had no real excuse and said she had already called the landlord but didn’t know when it would be fixed. So I grabbed a pitcher half full of water from watering plants the night before and dumped it over my head so as to semi-style my hair. Then I put deodorant on my unwashed pits, which is, let’s face it, really just putting perfume on the pig. I used the last of the water in my Brita filter to brush my teeth and swallow vitamins. I’ve still got four days worth of stubble on my chin and cheeks. So I avoided as much interaction with office-mates as I could today, feeling sorry for them cause I can smell my own ripeness sitting here at my computer. Good god I hope the water pressure is back when I get home.
I felt like crap pretty much all weekend. A head cold. Snotty and leaking. Per protocol, I spent almost all weekend on the couch watching movies (thanks to NetFlix), making sure that my cold didn’t get any worse, and I started to feel better (or at least tried to). Friday night I watched Party Girl. It was ok, I don’t know if I’d like it if it weren’t for Parker Posey. Anyone else in that role might have bugged the crap out of me. Could I have a falafel with hot sauce, a side order of baba ganousch, and a seltzer please? The movie seemed dated somehow and it wasn’t as funny as it could have been. It was entertaining though and the story-line was cute but I wouldn’t rent it again. Laura, if you still read this, you might like it.
I slept in late on Saturday as part of the “not getting sicker” regimen. I spent the day grocery shopping, talking on the phone and tidying up. That night I watched Pie In The Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story. I love documentaries of eccentric people like this. Crumb, about Robert Crumb, was another good one that is similar. Brigid Berlin was an Andy Warhol crony and artist specializing mostly in the taping of private conversations for later playback in public (I found this fascinating) and monologues. She’s a hyperverbal septuagenarian plagued with obsessive-compulsive behaviors, a tortured family life, and an artistic mind. Despite what seems to be a tragic fall for Brigid Berlin, the movie shows us that Brigid was one of Warhol’s muses and influences and a respected artist in her own right. And that despite leading a life lacking both employment and love, some happiness can be eked out. It was romantically tragic and captivating. Wow that sounded like a real movie review.
On Sunday I continued the “must not get any more ill” regimen by sleeping in till 11:00, laying on the couch till 2:00, eating a big lunch, going to the store for medicine, watching Hollow Man (which pretty much sucked but had some cool special effects), eating dinner, and watching the premier episode of the Surreal Life. That was about the size of my weekend.
I get this thing that happens to me. And I’m not sure why. The majority of the time it happens when I skip a meal. But sometimes it’ll happen a couple of hours after eating. I seems to resemble the symptoms of low blood sugar or diabetes. I can feel it coming on. It starts out with a kind of funny feeling in my stomach that spills in to my limbs, a sort of tingly, tired feeling. After a while, say about 5-15 minutes, I start to get shaky, much like “the shakes” people get when they get real hungry, but these are a little more violent. Very soon after the shakes I’ll break out into cold sweats.
The night before last I smashed my finger in the apartment door. It didn’t hurt too bad. I mostly just ripped my skin. The heavy door ripped it good and deep, right around the knuckle. I began bleeding immediately. Actually it didn’t bleed as much as it gushed. I held my finger in my mouth, tasting the metallic saltys-weet of blood mixed with saliva, until could put my keys away and get to the bathroom . I put my finger under the running sink faucet and the water was just barely able to keep up with the flow of blood. Eventually I figured to apply some pressure in order to slow the bleeding and get a bandage on. I probably needed stitches but couldn’t be bothered, a bandage would have to do. Well the cut finally stopped bleeding this morning. I’ll have a scar and this entry to remind me I’m still human.
I got a call yesterday afternoon from my father. He was calling from the emergency room and needed me to take him home. He had been in a car wreck. He got T-boned in a major intersection by a lady who ran the red light. He’s ok. Lots of back pain, bruised ribs, bruised kidney. His car is totaled though. I went and got stuff out of it at the towing place. I cleaned out the glove box and boxed up all the belongings he had. Then we went and got a prescription filled for some pain pills. Strong stuff. He’ll be passed out most of today, which is good cause he’s going to be hurtin’. I worry because back problems can stick with you and haunt you all your life. Yesterday I told him he was lucky. He just looked at me and laughed. He sure didn’t feel lucky, but he knew what I meant.
After a very prolonged and heart-pounding week, the suspense is finally over. The much awaited results for the very ballyhooed cholesterol contest have finally arrived.
Before we get to the results, I would like to make a few thank-yous. First to my doctor, without whom the blood-work would never have been processed. I would also like to thank all the doctors who were involved in the process of discovering cholesterol and thus providing us with one more thing to worry about (not to mention discovering one more thing that can kill us). I can’t forget to thank my parents for providing me with the blood, and eggs for providing me with the cholesterol. Oh yeah, I’d also like to thank Jesus because somehow it seems necessary.
The contestants and their respective guesses follow:
The processing of the entries was long and arduous but a definite winner was established. Thanks to everyone who participated. This contest was a raging success and the winner will be thusly awarded. So without further ado, here are the results:
I used to think my old doctor was the greatest. Well she still is, as far as I know. However, she won’t be my doctor anymore. But that is only because she quit internal medicine and is now working with the elderly. So after she quit, I was reassigned a new doctor. And this is one of the major downfalls that I have run into with HMOs. They just assign you somebody. You have no idea who they are, and that can be a little scary when this is a person you are going to be discussing some very intimate details of your life and body with. And I really liked my old doctor. She took her time, explained things, even if they weren’t important. She thought of good questions and was always willing to answer mine. I even recommended her to a couple of friends who also found her to be a wonderful doctor.
But today I went to go see my new “assigned” doctor for my yearly check up. And I have to say, he was great. He never rushed. He answered all my stupid questions (why do you guys always check my involuntary reflexes by tapping my knee with that rubber mallet? I mean if I can move voluntarily why check them?) And asked a lot of questions himself. So, I think I may have lucked out.