WHAT THE HELL'S UP WITH YOUR
NOSE?

Mother's Day was wonderful. I cooked spaghetti for Tina and the boy and we ate until we couldn't move and then topped it off with strawberry shortcake. Then we laid around and moaned about how uncomfortable we were and laughed about how we all wished we just make room for more.

Monday was work day again and doctor's appointment to try and figure out a way to deal with this ongoing snot, illness, and general malaise. She thinks that with the emphysema and asthma I am predisposed to situational lung disease and that allergies are setting up a perfect environment for infection. Bring on the drugs, in other words.

In addition to the Advair and Flonase samples to use, she hands me Claritin. You know, the "non-drowsy" antihistamine. I am to use these for a month and then go in for another lung function test. Whoopee. More steroids and pills to deal with.

Last night, I followed the regimen. Taking all the medications and snorting and huffing as prescribed, I fall into bed for a night's sleep and work in the morning. Now, I have taken Benadryl for years for allergies and have enjoyed the somewhat beneficial side effects of floating while under its influence. I love it when being loaded falls under the premise of "medicine." So, I thought nothing of the pill.

That is, I thought nothing of the new pill until this morning when I attempted to wake up and get ready for work. I was lucky I could make it downstairs to pee I was so deep asleep. I was thirsty and drank from my hand at the bathroom faucet because I knew I couldn't make it to the kitchen and back upstairs to the bed. I re-awoke at 9:30 and called work and said there was not a way in hell I was going to be capable of driving, much less be worth what
they pay me if I came in.

Now, those of you who thought I would be staying home today anyway for the DSL install will be pleased to know that I shan't be getting DSL since I live 400 feet past the 18,000 feet limit. Come on folks, this is the 21st century. Give me my high speed.

Oh, did I forget to mention that the other advise the doc gave was dropping some pounds. This is the same doctor who a little more than a year ago told me she liked her "elderly patients to have a little added weight just in case." Well, I guess my case has passed its limits and I need to drop some of this emergency stash that I have been pounding on (so to speak) "just in case."

Here come the salad lunches, the whole grains, and the healthy eating that I intellectually know and willingly ignore in favor of chocolate, spaghetti and any other carbohydrate standing in line. I won't be subjecting you to one of those little "Here I am and here is where I want to be" ribbons that others have on their websites. Instead I will simply let you know...when I can fit into more than two pair of my jeans and can see my feet again.

I am sure that not weighing enough to fight heavyweight will make going up and down the stairs a bit easier. Onward and upward with the healthful eating and the diminishing Sarah.

PS: The doggie wouldn't let me shave her for easier access to the wound on her side. So, instead, I have been washing her wound daily and applying antibiotic cream to the wound. She seems to be fine, other than her fear of vibrating, hand held appliances.

A couple of the neighbors have suggested I spray paint the offending dog with bright orange florescent paint to announce to its owner that it is venturing into places it shouldn't be.