Cookies

Today I baked.

Things I like...

1. Having a kitchen.

This is the thing I like. I have cooked more in the last month than I have in the last three years combined. I am pretty much enamored with everything about this new life I am carving out.

Dinner was a hit. : )

I also occasionally feel like my life is an episode of New Girl. Only with a lot more turkeys and hugs.

I also like this.

I might be deliriously happy. Maybe. Probably. I am.

Hope

This is my chest.

This is where I will put my hopes.

Or bright orange snow pants. I might put those in there too. The winter clothes will smell wonderful.

Prom Date bought it for me. He is quite the guy.

Or I could store a dead body in there.

Oh God. We are teetering on a fashion emergency. TJizzle is trying to leave the house in plaid on plaid.

I cannot allow this to happen.

This is almost as bad as jean on jean.

I have saved him from this terrible fate.

He has selected a solid blue shirt. This is by far the better option and now he can pick up hot nurses.

I need to go back to work. I am about to go crazy with boredom. The house is clean. The laundry is done. The fridge is cleaned out. I might even... GASP... clean the floors. I do need to make up some sugar cookie dough but that would require me to wash the dishes I pulled out of the fridge and I don't know that I am that motivated yet. They aren't due until babysitting tomorrow morning so my natural urge to procrastinate is taking over.

I start sitting again tomorrow for the Stinks and then I have my first camp on Monday. Then I will feel better.

I was thinking last night about the fatigue when I was first diagnosed. I would take my pill at 7 am on the dot and by lunch at 12:30 I was falling asleep in my car. I would have to push through the rest of the day and then I would get home and pass out on the couch where I would pretty much sleep until the morning. Just getting up when my alarm went off to take my pill at 7 pm. I would say in general I am more tired than I was before diagnosis, but I am so glad that this particular side effect has pretty much cleared up.

When we were in Baltimore and then again when I was helping Prom Date and his family out this weekend I did notice that I wear out more quickly. That is frustrating. I noticed in Baltimore that a day of walking was way harder on me than it had been the year before. I hate that. Luckily I am stubborn enough not to let it stop me.

I am a bee

SHIT! I promised you Roy.

I don't have time to do Roy justice today. You will have to wait until tomorrow. I am updating quickly to tell you I am busy and then I am going to bake cookies.

This has been a slightly crazy week. The Statesman (this is going to be my brother in law's blog name) was running in the primary on Tuesday so we went to his victory party and were there the whole night. Last night I saw Dr. Awesome and didn't get home until later than expected. Then tonight I have to bake and watch the finale of Project Runway with my mom. Tomorrow is my interview with Teach for America and then Saturday we are leaving for Baltimore.

I also have to hang out with Wills tomorrow because I have not seen her since the dinosaurs walked the earth.

When will I get everything done?

Despite a balloon head on Tuesday I have been pretty lucky thus far. I just hope I don't feel like crap tomorrow. I might cry. I will just have to power through it though.

GOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGO!

DOUBLE FUCK. This is my 100th post. I was going to do something special! I fail at blogging. I am so sorry.

<3

Roy: Chapter 2

My family experienced a tragedy this weekend. It was slightly heartbreaking, but a large development in the life and times of Rotting Roy.

I knocked off his stem.

It was such a nice day outside on Sunday that I decided to get my bike off the stand and take that baby outside. I put my Bobby Kindal and my cell phone in the basket and I went to roll it down the exterior stairs. Otherwise known as Rotting Roy's domain. As I was trying to get the bike down the stairs we had a run in with Roy. He did not survive intact.

Poor poor Roy.

On the plus side for you, my dedicated readers, it inspired me to create another Roy post. A development this big just must be documented.

Roy looks terrible.

Just wanted to remind you what Roy looked like in the
previous post.

He looks slightly flat, and white, and moldy. His skin has also taken on a papery quality. I am concerned about his health.

My cookies were a huge hit at school today. I was told that people were passing around my file as well as eating so hopefully they learned something. My nose is still full of snot. Tomorrow is my spinal tap. I called and it is still scheduled, but no one seems to know what to do with me.

Story of my life.

Sick Day

Today I was sick.

My cold was bleh but my head. My head. My head.

I think it was a combination of sinus headache and pressure headache. All I know is that it was like it was caught in a vice. So I called it, took a benedryl, and proceeded to pass out until noon.

Then I managed to bake 5 and a half dozen cookies for Rare Disease Day.

Bleh.

Moar Cookies

Today I must bake.

Baking for my brain. Brains love baking. Cookies for a cure (I like that one!).

As I will be getting a spinal tap on Rare Disease Day proper I am "celebrating" it tomorrow at work. I figure that will give everyone at work time to make plans for the day as well. I am sure they will be elaborate. Don't worry. I informed everyone I would not be at work on the day so they don't feel pressured to arrange a parade for me.

And the Hubs claims I am self centered.

I think a cold is official. There is drainage and a sore throat to back up that assessment. This is not good. I hate colds. They are a job hazard.

I also have to clean the bathroom floor. There is mud.

I wish Dr. Awesome was going to be at my spinal tap. I would even take Dr. Cowboy. Someone I know would be nice. I have never had a procedure like this with a stranger. When I went in for kidney stone things my urologist was always there. Sometimes he even tried to comfort me awkwardly (he had a terrible bedside manner). So there was a familiar face and someone I kind of trusted doing the actual procedure. I won't know this person. They will just be sticking a giant needle in my back. And who will awkwardly pat my shoulder and call me little girl (Dr. Uro totally did that - strange)? I guess the Hubs will have to step in.

Cookies

I have abused barbiturates today. Go ahead. Judge me, but I am just so sick and tired of feeling like shit. Yeah the pain meds don't help the pain but they do many me care a lot less. Now before you stage an intervention let me clarify, I took half the recommended dose this morning and the other half when I got home from work. So I guess abuse is a slightly strong word, but I feel like taking them is abuse in and of itself because I know they won't help.

I have had a headache for nearly 48 hours straight.

Today I am in the paper. I am on page 11. Check me out. I will not tell you which specific paper because I want to make it challenging for you.

I am baking cookies. I love cookies. I had to make chocolate chip and oatmeal toffee chip. I want to eat them all.

I think the hardest part about IIH is that it is invisible. When I was talking to the NewsMan about it I joked that people think I just always have a hangover, but really that isn't far from the truth. I am tired all the time. I have a headache. I am a little grouchier than I was. Still, I look the same so what can be wrong with me? People who know about my diagnosis and see me for the first time always comment on how I look great. I want to punch them. What do they think will have changed? Do they think I will suddenly have grown a fourth nipple? Everything that is wrong with me is real, but it is all inside my head. Sadly that statement makes me sound like more of a crazy person.