Ailing, Wailing, and Causing Trouble

A bad doctor’s diagnosis on Tuesday, two more medications and ultra strict regime has put me in a foul mood all week. Foul: better described as puckish and unusually snarky. (“Unusually?” you might be thinking. Try me.)

Granted, it’s only Thursday. But the kind of exaggeration that turns two-and-a-half days into a week is just one of the many side-affects.

On Twitter I described my latest medication (quite accurately, I might add) as “I’m now shooting silver up my nose three times daily…” and Bradley replied, “is coke just too cheap for your tastes?”

Which got me thinking. My sister-in-law’s recent (and my grandfather’s long-term) campaign against caffeine made me realize that the general difference between actual drugs and the pejorative term “drug” is the addictive quality of the substance. But it has occurred to me on several occasions (and I’m not suggesting this as a health-care trend) that it would make it a lot easier to not forget to take my medications, if they were even just slightly addictive. 

That reminds me. I’ll be right back . . . 

 . . . I would forget to eat or sleep if everyone else didn’t do it regularly. (Another thing my doctor says I must not do.)

So I guess I don’t qualify as a druggie, despite the heavy-metal inhalant. I am beginning to look like one.

This started yesterday when I was getting ready for work and putting on my makeup. In a moment of mad inspiration I decided instead of applying the eye-shadow to the eye lid, to use it to draw dark shadows underneath. Whoever said experience in stage-makeup doesn’t come in handy?  (It’s precisely for moments like these that I don’t buy shimmery eye-shadow.)

My real point was not to try to prove something to the universe by making myself look as horrible as I generally feel—I kind of just wanted to see if anyone would notice and say something. 

No one did.

Perhaps I should have gone with purple eyeshadow, instead of brown?

There was one odd and unprecedented hugging incident. And the poor person looked very concerned and hugged quite earnestly, and gave me the distinct feeling that I was dying.  (I’m not, calm down.)

So, if you see me around and it looks like my health has taken a turn for the worst—it really has. But I wouldn’t judge too much by appearances. 

And, although I’m not dying . . .  a hug would be nice.


5 thoughts on “Ailing, Wailing, and Causing Trouble

  1. although i hate to correct you when you’re in such a sirley mood, i have to say, when we were roomies, even though people DID eat and sleep (and…ahem…attend class) on a regular basis, that, however, DID NOT keep you from forgetting to…on a different note though, if i did happen to see you with your makeup askew i would probably say something- yes it would probably be a blunt and poorly worded something as it poured from my lips- but it would be something nonetheless, something concerned….also…thank you for your “whoa” that’s where we’ll be living- pretty neat huh?

  2. So sorry you’re not feeling well and have new medication; I cannot relate to taking any such medication, and I wish you did not either.

    And, I am a little curious just how snarky you have become – I will soon find out!

    By the way, the opening with “A bad doctor’s diagnosis…” makes it sound like he either mis-diagnosed you or he himself is a bad doctor. I think from the context you meant it as being unfortunate for you because of the new meds, but maybe you had something else in mind? Just a thought.

  3. hug!! (oh, if only it worked that way…)

    And…sorry for my silly facebook message from Friday. I didn’t know about Grandpa yet. And, it seems so inappropriate put in the context of that day now.

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