Stuff

So, once again I haven't been writing much of late. Too much to do, too little time to write. And frankly, I just haven't had much to say. I could talk about the mid-east--but it is too upsetting to me, and I don't think I would do it justice. Maybe I'll change my mind later. . .

The British Terrorist plot? Freaky scary. Do I want to talk about that? No. Too upsetting. And I'd need more unfettered time to really put some thought into both of these truly important topics. And we all know I'm really not all that into thought. . .

Anyhow, I'm pretty tired--I had an upper endoscopy yesterday, which I was looking forward to about as much as. . . .well, as much as having a camera on a tube shoved down my throat. Don't really need to compare it to anything else, do I? Pretty heinous in and of itself. Especially for someone, like me, who gags when brushing her teeth. Dental X-rays? Not pretty. Last time I had them done, my gag reflex resulted in a nose injury.

Huh? you might ask.

Basically, I was so close to loosing my cookies when they put in the x-ray film that I had to rush out of the exam room and into the bathroom, where I threw back the toilet seat so hard, it came crashing back down on my eye and nose as I bent over. I thought I'd just nailed my eye, but when I looked in the mirror afterwards, I saw a trickle of blood flowing from the bridge of my nose. It was so purty. And truly embarrassing to explain. I think the dental office staff thought I was pathetic. Funny, but pathetic.

So I told my doctor she better knock me out for this one. And so she did. Or she gave me a truly terrific amnesiac drug so I can't remember what happened anyway. Either way, I'm grateful. (Although there is something creepy about having your memory erased by another person--very "Eternal Sunshine.").

The whole thing, therefore, turned out to be a non-event. The worst part was the recovery from the anesthesia. I've been tired and out of it for two days now. (Yeah, yeah, those who know me can spare me the wisecracks about my always being out of it. . .). The doc took multiple stomach biopsies so my stomach has felt, much as one would suspect, like someone scraped out some of my insides. Unpleasant, but fully bearable.

I will be traveling to my hometown next week for a family visit, and I'm sure that will provide plenty of fodder for the blog. No more writer's block for me! In addition, flying cross country with children given the current terrorist alert could prove to be a life-altering experience. Let me tell you, my kids (preschool and above) will not be happy with the carry-on restrictions.

"Mommy, where's my drinky yogurt?"

"Shut up and drink your breast milk. Oh, you don't like breast milk?--well then drink your formula, then."

"But mommy, I'm SEVEN." Ack.

And they're saying no gels in carry-ons either. Does that mean I have to leave the jelly off the PBJ sandwiches? I'm sure jelly is a fine disguise for explosives. Gives a whole new meaning to "bold new flavor."

Yep, I should have lots to write about during and after the trip. Until then, Adios. I've got to pare down my hair care supplies. . .