I finished course 1 of the Wilton Cake Decorating classes tonight. I’m certified! LOL! It’s a blast, I love doing it, but oh my, my hands hurt the next day!
Which reminds me – the PA called from the doctor’s office Monday, with the results of the rest of the blood work they did. Hmmm. Apparently for the first time in 15 years my anti-ANA is negative. How did that happen do you suppose? Two years ago it was 1:640,000, last year it was 1:320,000, and this year it’s negative. Guess I’m cured. Yeah, right. However my rheumatoid factor is positive so the doctor wants to see me at his next available appointment. I didn’t want to break the news to her that my rheumatoid factor was positive 3 years ago when I went to Mayo Clinic and they diagnosed me with rheumatoid arthritis. That’s why I’ve been taking Plaquenil and prednisone for the past 12 years or so. So, I wonder, does this mean I don’t have to worry about developing some NAMED autoimmune disease? Does this mean I no longer have mixed connective tissue disease, even though the left side of my face still gets numb? What does it MEAN, dammit? I guess I’ll have to make the next available appointment to chat with the “real” doctor – last time I was in his office I heard that was in early September. Oy.
Will someone make sure Steve puts “I told you I was sick” on my headstone? Thanks. And yes, I’m still sweating like the proverbial pig.
My niece’s whatever he was, boyfriend, hot dude, whatever, got out of jail yesterday, supposedly he’s under “house arrest” according to MIL (?). Well, whatever, he managed to call my niece 3 times before dinner to tell her he’s going to kill her. Nice guy. I’m hoping she lives long enough to learn from this experience. If a guy lives in a crappy neighborhood, dresses like a gangbanger, and talks like a gangbanger – hm, chances are he IS a gangbanger.
If my dogs go into a barking frenzy one more time today, just ONE MORE TIME, they’re all going OUT for the entire afternoon. I’m not kidding.
I rue the fact that I’m allergic to cats. (See above.)
I hate doctors who mumble, talk fast, and practically in a whisper so there’s no way in hell I’m going to understand what they’re saying. I also hate doctors who have no idea what they’re going to say next. The…. patient…. has a history of…. (pages shuffle)… Um…. Um… (Come on jackass – the chart is right in front of you!) Um… Hemorrhoids. Wow. I waited over a minute for THAT?!? Only to get down to the diagnosis part and have them list 15 things. Go figure. Some of these guys I wouldn’t trust with a hangnail!
I want a big thunderstorm. Big! Crashing thunder! Bright lightning! Wind! Hail! Maybe even a tornado warning just for good measure. I’m bored silly with the weather.
Just for giggles – I would like a husband who can understand the dishwasher. Nothing fancy, just that when the dishes in it are dirty or it’s empty, you can put more dishes in it. Or, here’s a thought, if the dishwasher is FULL of dirty dishes, you just add soap and hit the start button! Presto! It’s amazing what kind of technology there is around the house nowdays.