My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

First Days and Last Days


I have been feeling like such utter crap all week – sinus headaches, body aches, chills, sore throat, stabbing pain in the ears at every swallow, bad stomach – that I finally broke down and called the doctor. Who just happens to be OUT OF THE COUNTRY until Tuesday. Must be nice. And how convenient for the rest of us.

So the receptionist sent a referral to the nearest Pat1ent F1rst. God, I hate P.F. But I went because I haven’t consumed a single beer or a piece of chocolate since Saturday and that’s where I draw the line.

I arrived and am ushered into a patient cell. The nurse takes my temperature (normal), blood pressure (low) and then asks,

“What was the first day of your last period?”

You are kidding, right? How the hell should I know? Unless I’m trying to get pregnant, I don’t track that kind of thing.

“I don’t know. Two weeks ago, maybe?”

“It’s a question our computer asks every female patient,” she says, a bit put off.

Lady, tell your computer (which didn’t ask me the question like Hal would have; the question was posed by you!) NONE OF ITS GODDAMN BUSINESS WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH THE FACT THAT I’M DYING UP HERE AND NOT DOWN THERE???

I have no idea what she ended up scribbling in her notes but seriously. I only jot that kind of crap down in my calendar if I’m seeing the OB/GYN about Lady Business. This is not Lady Business.

After a long (45-fucking-minutes) wait in the cell, the doctor comes in, makes a cursory check of my ears (clogged), my throat (no comment), and issues me an array of prescriptions including an antibiotic – but only if I don’t feel better by Sunday. Another nurse comes in and gives my backside a shot of predni-something and I am released.

And, true to Virginia’s nature, after nearly drought conditions all summer, the tropical depression over Florida is poised to dump about 40 billion inches of rain on us within the next 24 hours. Nice. Can’t wait. I’m still planning to take the kids to the children’s museum tomorrow. Unless the city’s completely flooded. In which case, we’ll go to the local library and hang out.


“Now the party’s over/I’m so tired..”

We listened to Roxy Music this morning on the way in. Today is Dusty’s very last day of preschool. In fact, it’ll be a half-day since her kindergarten open house is this afternoon. I have a few more pictures left in the camera so I plan to use them up documenting this momentous occasion.

Her teacher gave her a parting gift yesterday – a gift bag full of necklace kits and cross stitch kits, etc. Last night, Dusty and I made necklaces and bracelets for her teachers.

“This necklace is for Miss Heidi and the bracelet is for Miss Ellen. You can make a necklace...”

Cool. I could use a new necklace since Red’s destroyed most of them.

“...but you have to give it to someone.”

Oh. I forget that I have such a genuinely nice and thoughtful child on my hands. She keeps me humble.


11:25 a.m. ::
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