Sep. 10: It’s always something

Yesterday I saw my doctor AGAIN about my back pain. It’s been months now that I’ve had to sleep sitting up and let me tell you something. Can I tell you something? It’s no fun.

We replaced our mattress earlier this year and it is way, super-duper wonderful. I had been having trouble sleeping on our 11-year-old mattress, so it was exciting to finally have nice, new, supportive hay. And then June came.

If you’ve been paying attention, you know that June was The Month of Pratfalls in our house. Jack and Katie call it The Month of Mommy’s Many Trips to the Emergency Room. Either way. I think the first fall, in which I landed on my knee and chin on the garage floor (I’d show you pictures but they totally bum out Loveliest Lori), really did a number on my overall alignment. But the second fall, in which I attempted to perform my own LASIK surgery with rudimentary tools installed on my armoire door, seems to have just plain done me in. I haven’t been the same since.

Which means I haven’t been sleeping in that way, super-duper wonderful bed.

Which means I’m a bitter, achy woman.

However, I’m not a bitter, achy, lonely woman. Victor started sleeping in the puff chair next to me every night, so while the dogs may be confused, I’m not having the vampire freak-outs that come with sleeping alone, and we continue to have our nightly slumber party. We alternated sleeping in the puff chair when the kids were newborns and decided there are much less comfortable places to sleep. Still, I think Victor would rather be in a bed. Who wouldn’t?

The last time I saw my doctor about my back pain he didn’t seem at all concerned. If I was a good patient, I would have insisted he take it seriously, but I already feel like a total hypochondriac whenever I see him because it’s been one thing after another this year. I guess that’s not hypochondria so much as it’s Münchausen syndrome. I promise, I don’t thrive on my doctor’s attention. I don’t even like him all that much.

Anyway, yesterday he did the same old adjustments he’s done the past three visits, except for when he removed my eyebrillo stitches (no adjustments that time—whew).  He checked my alignment, which was as it should be. He was concerned when he realized how long this has been going on, and said to come back in a week; if nothing has changed, we’ll approach it differently, probably with physical therapy. So there was no quick fix, and there’s no definite end to this and what it all ultimately means is that our cat has the most expensive cat bed ever, because she’s the only one sleeping on the new mattress nowadays.

OK, so that’s what happened yesterday at the doctor’s office. But wait! There’s more!

BEHOLD: Here is the part of the story where I transform into a much less hilarious version of Roseanne Roseannadanna.

The other day I noticed this little sore spot near my elbow. It’s in one of those spots that you don’t pay any attention to until it’s hurt, and then suddenly you realize how frequently that little spot comes in contact with every single thing you encounter in a single day. OUCH. It looked a little like a mosquito bite, but didn’t itch. And it didn’t really even hurt unless it was touched.

Yesterday it was bigger and hurt a bit more, but otherwise looked no different.

Today it really started hurting. But because I am the person who I am, I cannot leave that kind of thing alone, so I started picking at it. It began to bleed and I thought I saw white gunk so I pressed the skin around it and all the white gunk came out. It was kinda cool.

See? Roseanne Roseannadanna. I warned you.

If you knew me in the fall of 1986, you might remember that I had a similar owie on my jawline that did the same thing but about a hundred times worse. Yes… this is where I tell the story of The Zit That Nearly Killed Me. I wish oh-so-much that I was making that story up, but I am not—three days of getting pumped full of potent IV antibiotics tell the truth. And I am also not going to tell that story again because it’s gross and you’ve probably heard it anyway.

Thank goodness this Hello Kitty band-aid will protect the owie from getting any worse. Because I swear, if I end up having to go to the doctor for this I WILL BE SO PISSED AT SOMEONE WHO IS NOT ME BUT SOMEONE NONETHELESS, I TELL YOU.

Tonight I inhaled a little fruit fly. It was way worse than the squirt-y white gunk.

You think I’m done, don’t you? Well, you’re right. I am. And since I feel bad about telling you the details of my arm thing, here’s a funny song I’m going to share with you so you cannot resent me for subjecting you to the gory-ness.

The mp3 below is from Avenue Q, a silly Broadway musical that parodies Sesame Street. Trekkie Monster is a creepy version of Cookie Monster, and the other characters are brightly-dressed humans and puppets that are supposed to slightly resemble Sesame Street characters. The soundtrack is almost entirely hilarious, but The Internet is For Porn is probably the funniest song—also, in case you didn’t guess, not for little ears. Enjoy!

Download this MP3 - (Right Click)