It's about 10 minutes to six now on a rainy Thursday afternoon. We were on our way home from work when the skies abruptly opened. It wasn't actually much of a thunderstorm, but it was pretty impressive nonetheless. There was a question of where to pick up our daughter --when the weather is bad, they tend to move the kids out of the park and parked them someplace strong, like one of the schools. This rain had just started. We weren't really sure, so we guessed and fortunately we guessed right. Our daughter wasn't very happy with the rain, because it's loud and noisy, and she doesn't like that kind of thing. However we talked a little bit about what she done that day in weather camp, and that sufficiently distracted her so that by the time the storm passed, she didn't even notice.
It's about five days until my surgery. I'm still a little apprehensive, but I am comforted by the thought that the odds are very good that my arm won't be any worse than it is right now. Most of the fun of showing it to people has worn off by now. It gets old pretty quickly when people grimace and say you must really have hurt yourself badly. I knew that! Have to admit, I get a little scared, and I find myself wondering, do these people know something that I should know. But the bottom-line is that I don't really have much choice. I really do think it's going to be better -- maybe not soon, but in the foreseeable future. I guess in a way I have to believe that, but intellectually I really do. And as I've been telling people, next week I'm going to get to spend a day in a drugged haze -- and as stressed out as I've felt lately, that's not a bad thing.
Had something a little unusual happen to me the other day. In addition to all the other physical fun that I'm having lately, including some gastrointestinal upset about which I won't give you details, my blood pressure has been lower than normal. This has unfortunately manifested itself by me being dizzy on occasion -- no, even more than normal. We went out and bought a blood pressure cuff from the local drugstore and found that yes, it was in fact low -- diastolic, not the systolic. We called up the local family practice, and the nurse that I normally see said that I had looked a little dry when I last came in. I said that I hadn't had much appetite lately (wonder why?) and had in fact lost about 6 pounds. She suggested that I might be dehydrated, and said that I should try to eat and drink a little more. I have never had anyone say that to me before.
Time for dinner!
1 comment:
It is Delightful to be told that you have to eat More, isn't it? And drink more too. Do alcoholic drinks count? That would be nice.
A British friend who was pregnant had her doctor worried because she wasn't gaining weight well. He told her to Eat More. She asked, "is that an invitation to go to cream cake shops?" She was heartily disappointed when he recommended healthy foods instead.
Post a Comment