A Serious Discussion

As I was driving home from work today I realized I needed to have a serious discussion with The Best Man. I was bringing home two boxes of Girl Scout cookies- the best ever- Thin Mints and Tagalongs!-and knowing our love of sweets knew this could pose a problem.

Ice cream is his go to sweet, however he will quickly gooble up candies, chocolates (that he's bought for me), and cookies. I love cakes and cookies and icecream all equally. I show no sweet preference over another, you know unless one has a lot more chocolate than the other, then I'm distracted enough to show favouritism.

So, I did what any smart girl would do when backed into a corner. I hid the box of Tagalongs.

I walked up to the apartment thinking if there was any way to compromise. I mean, come on, these are GIRL SCOUT COOKIES. This is serious stuff here. So, out of the goodness of my heart I decide we can each have one sleeve from each box (Tagalongs will stay hidden until Thin Mints are demonlished).

I am going to marry this guy, so I had to take drastic measures and share.

Then I came inside with a serious face asking to sit down and talk.

I'm sure The Best Man thought another one of my patients had passed away (we've sadly not been saving many lives here these days it seems). Then I asked what his favourite Girl Scout cookies where.

"Somoas." He has bought two boxes that have yet to arrive.

Coconut!? So, no bargaining here. He'd get his two boxes and I'd have to share mine or have mine demolished while I was at work saving lives and all that jazz.

I then revealed my box of thin mints and was very thankful to find that he doesn't care for them much.

SCORE!

They are safe!

"What about tagalongs?"

"Eh."

DOUBLE SCORE!

Looks like all the anxiety was for nothing. I just hope he realizes what a sacrafice I was willing to make. I mean, really, SHARING Girl Scout cookies. That's big time.

Ps. Tagalongs are now called Peanut Butter Patties, but that's a whole 'nother story.

This Weekend

I know the rest of you don't want to hear that four letter "s" word again anytime soon. No, not that one, the one that ends in a "w."

We had our first s**w fall down here last night and the town was in a frenzy trying to prepare for the 3 to 4 inches we got. I was so excited because we've only had one weekend of ice. No real s**w until yesterday! Wahoo! Well, the sun is brightly shining today, so most of it is already gone. Sadly, I did not get to play in it. But nevertheless, it was still exciting.

Today is The Southern Belle's birthday. She is one of my closest friends at work. She keeps me sane and she lets me rant and rave to my hearts content. The Southern Belle is a SC native. She is classy and smart. And today is her birthday! We are going to celebrate by dinner at a nice restaurant prior to going to her favourite Irish pub. We will see where the night takes us from there.

Tomorrow the two of us are going to see "Valentine's Day." Cheesy? Yes. Necessary? Another yes.

Here's to a fun girls weekend! It's always nice to have good girl friends around when you need them!

Bittersweet silence

The past two days I've gotten to work in the units. As in intensive care and cardiac care. Read: really sick people. In these two days, I've felt more useful treating those 3 patients than I have in a long, long time.

I've decided I like treating non verbal patients. I make them laugh. Really, it's a stitch. They can't tell me I'm being corny, silly or dumb, so I talk and talk. There really is no stopping me when I get going. Then they laugh and I like to pretend it's because they think I'm funny. In reality, it's just because it takes too much effort to mouth "you're ridiculous."

The best is when I'm co-treating with Shorty, a COTA, and we banter back and forth until we make the patient smile. Now, that's some funny stuff. The best is when I make fun of how short she is. That gets 'em every time.

Bring on the lines, leads, and vents! It's on, I'm bringing back purpose to my job and knocking out debility one treatment (and smile) at a time!

In other news, I'm not drinking soda. I normally don't drink a lot of the stuff anyway, but sometimes I get on a roll and then crave the sticky, sweet stuff. I haven't had a Coke or another soda at all this month. All 5 days of it. Pretty good, huh? Now, the hard part is going to be not having a rum and coke the next time I go out. I don't like beer...so I guess I'll be drinking a lot o' wine!

Hindsight

Recently I've been fretting about a self diagnosed brain tumor that has been affecting my vision. It is located somewhere in the back of my head near the optic radiations. It first affected my left eye, then vanished before reappearing (or should I say disappearing because of my lack of vision?) in my right eye. Transient vision changes that occur in one eye then reappear in another eye are not normally related to a tumor. You know, unless the tumor is shrinking in one direction as it grows in another.

So basically, I have a self diagnosed traveling brain tumor that is making its way from the left side of my head to the right.

Or so I thought.

When I was finally able to get myself an eye appointment, the optometrist asked questions like "why can't you see?" (to which I wanted to respond "aren't you supposed to answer that?") and made comments such as, "well, you could read that a minute ago" when I couldn't read even the big E on the top of the eye chart.

After two appointments in as many weeks, my old prescription was changed, then later rewritten to resemble the original prescription. The original prescription which caused me to come in for the first place because I couldn't see.

So at this point, I had changed my working diagnosis from a traveling brain tumor to a conversion disorder. Clearly, there was nothing wrong with my eyes or the optometrist would not have asked me why I couldn't see. Without any anatomical basis to my blurry vision, the only remaining answer is a conversion disorder.

I made an appointment a month away with an ophthalmologist, ie a real MD. I spent the next month hoping it was legal for me to be on the road and ignoring people at work because I couldn't see them down the hallway. All the while, I was trying to come to terms with the fact that I obviously had a conversion disorder.

When it was finally time for my appointment, the technician made me feel like a fraud when she questioned what I could and couldn't see. She wasn't able to correct my vision with lenses. Then the real MD came in and asked "has anyone ever mentioned an astigmatism?"

He then showed me a picture of the peaks and valleys of the surface of my right eye. The cornea is supposed to be round like a basketball. An astigmatism means the cornea cones out like a football. This can be corrected with glasses and soft contacts. However, my eye only cones out at the bottom and is rounded at the top. This is called an irregular astigmatism. It can only be corrected with hard contacts. I was told the cause could be due to a) illfitting contacts, b) a corneal deformity, or c) a and b.

I'm shooting for a) as this would explain why my vision was first blurry in my left eye and now my right.

Today I had my fitting for my contacts. They hurt. I squinted, cried, blinked and got asked what the heck was wrong with me by nurses and even a patient. However, I was able to wear them for 4 hours as I was asked.

I am shooting for 6 hours tomorrow. I doubt I will be able to drive in these things for a while as it is hard to look for side to side. Thus, unfortunately, I will still be driving with my useless glasses. Wish me luck!

One of the great things about being engaged, besides tricking The Best Man into proposing and getting a gorgeous ring, is that I pretend I don't have to shave my legs as frequently.

One of the bad things about being engaged is getting used to not shaving as frequently and going to the gym wearing shorts.

Big.

The Best Man: "This little girl has grown up to be a big girl."
K: "You don't say 'girl' and 'big' in the same sentence."
The Best Man: "I'm sorry...This little girl has grown up to be a big woman."

K:"So I was helping this guy get cleaned up from the bathroom and-"
The Best Man: "Wait, you were helping him? You mean you walked him to the bathroom?"
K:"Well, I helped him to the commode and then helped him get cleaned up."
The Best Man: "Wait, all this time when you've said you helped someone to the bathroom, you've been cleaning them up?"
K:"Well, not all the time, sometime they just need help getting there. Anyway-"
The Best Man: "Wait! So you see butts every day?"
K:"Yes, and they are old and wrinkly. Are you jealous?"