Kage Baker would declare from time to time that things had just gotten too hard to deal with, and it was time to run away. Her fondest wish was to one day run away to sea, but in default of that, she usually ran away to a sea side town – one we didn’t already live in – and spend a few days in a motel with no phone.
Sorry, Dear Readers of the male persuasion – things may get a little indelicate here. We women are not actually frail flowers of delicacy and tact: we’re a lot cruder than you valiant gentlemen, and have a truly horrendous sense of humor. I’ll try to spare your gentler sensibilities, but … quite frankly, gentlemen, being a woman requires one to be especially tough and ferocious.
The last week has been … peculiar. Went in Monday for a biopsy – no biopsy achieved, due to what my (semi-freaked-out) gynecologist primly referred to as “a significant bleeding event.” That means whatever is wrong with me prefers not to be disturbed in its isolation, and objected by flooding the examining table. I am fine now, but spent Tuesday and Wednesday mostly lying down in a fairly light-headed state.
The doctors resorted to using an ultrasound (they can be used internally – did you know? I don’t recommend it for light entertainment) instead of a biopsy, which was rather like having a MetroRail station installed between my legs. Lots of beeping machines, flashing lights, people calling for something to dam the flood …also, what they euphemistically referred to as an ultrasound “wand” had obviously been mixed up with a baseball bat. That thing should have been capable of reading the inside of my skull.
Someone should train young doctors on careless things not to say during ultrasound exams, too. Hearing them exclaim “What’s that?” is unnerving. Makes one wonder if they just can’t find your cervix – I know where it is, they could have asked – or if an alien is about to leap out and eat your gynecologist’s face. And whether or not you would like it to do that …
Bottom line on the exam experience: something is wrong with me, and something that shouldn’t be there is taking up room in my uterus. So very soon I will be going to the hospital for a hysteroscopy, where they’ll have a look with me safely asleep under anesthesia – Huzzah! – and probably remove most of my plumbing. I don’t mind at all, as it’s obviously gone to the Dark Side and is no longer my friend.
But then, back at the ranch … my CPU died, and is no longer talking to my monitor. So it makes noises like it’s working but I can’t see anything. Our home network here has some sort of glitch, and the other desktop is only working intermittently, and I’ve been asleep so much of the time that I just never got to a working computer. That’s where I have been all week. But now repairs are under way, and communications have resumed!I won’t lose so much time again.
But in the meantime, the corgi has an ear infection and had to go to the vet’s this morning, because he’s been travelling through the house with his head pressed to the floor, rubbing his ears on everything. And the trip to Fry’s to drop off the CPU found every bit of road work between here and Burbank, which I think is being removed. And I have to go running off to the doctor’s again with more paperwork while they work on cramming me into the hospital as soon as possible …
Busy times. Annoying times. Times when I would love to go hide somewhere for a week, and am sort of grateful for the last several days of dazed quiet. But I missed everyone, and my nice little soap box here: and anyway, I’ve been quiet long enough now.
So I’m back. Normal functions are resumed, and – as the poet says – anything you still can’t cope with is your own problem …
But I’m relatively fine, and absolutely back!