On the merry-go-round of life!
So. It's been a crazy week.
I finished the assignment from hell and turned it in on Tuesday night. I still can't quite believe that I managed to complete an eight-week project in thirty-six hours. We shall see if that is reflected in the grade. Sigh.
On Thursday, I ended up at the radiology office, getting another ultrasound. My bad leg had been bothering me all week, and by Thursday morning when I got up, it was really painful. I know by now that, if they find any blockages, I'm going to get chucked into the hospital, and I decided that I'd rather be hospitalized on this side of the river than in Philly.
Well, the good news was that the tech who did my ultrasound didn't find anything that looked like it was completely blocking the blood flow and would be causing such extreme pain.
The bad news was that there is evidence of new plaques, indicating that I may be developing "post-thrombolytic syndrome". As near as I can figure out, that means that I'll be fighting blood clots all the damn time.
Fuck.
They also stuck my finger and told me that I had an electrolyte imbalance, which apparently translates to, "You haven't been taking your vitamins, have you?"
My doctor's office wanted me to contact the vascular specialist I'd been seeing, and he couldn't see me until three-thirty. So I spent the day on the couch with the hot water bottle, trying not to panic.
I was absolutely giddy with relief after he examined me and inspected my ultrasound films and suggested that I might just be very low on potassium.
He sent me home and told me to eat bananas and drink orange juice, and by the next day, I was much better.
He also said that you can't diagnose an electrolyte imbalance from just a fingerstick, but thinks I should go to a nutritionist anyway and get a full workup.
Aaargh.
I'm waiting until next week, after my final exam is over and I can breathe a little.
So Friday and Saturday, I spent cleaning the house and preparing for the big Memorial Day picnic on Sunday. I'm always exhausted afterwards . . . hosting a barbecue for twenty-five or more is a lot of work.
I think next year, I'm going to upgrade to chafing dishes for the hot food, and that way I won't have to be trotting back and forth from the grill or the stove when I would rather be mingling with my guests. There's always that burst of activity, when I'm running about, carrying chicken and tossing hot dogs around and freaking out because the corn isn't shucked yet and everyone's arriving at once and oh my god who spilled the mustard and did I remember to put out a corkscrew . . . although fortunately, my guests were quite good-natured about it when I dumped two shopping bags of corn in front of them and yelped, "Here! Get to work!"
I only remembered to add, "Please," when lucifrix quite rightly mentioned the noticeable lack of any politeness. This is what stress does to me. :: toes ground in embarrassment :: Doesn't make it acceptable behavior, though.
So. Improvements for next year include chafing dishes, and forcing my mom to take off the day from work so I'm not running like a crazed weasel all by myself. I also think I might make arrangements with some people to have help with the cleanup at the end of the night, because pouncing on the departing guests and yelling, "No! You can't leave 'til you return the neighbors' chairs to their houses!" does seem to have a stifling effect on the evening's gaiety.
Again with the bossiness-as-a-result-of-stress response. Sorry, again.
However, when I did finally have a chance to sit down and socialize with my guests, it was vastly entertaining. My face hurt from laughing at the stories lucifrix was telling! Even if I was groaning because the word "penis" kept being spoken in front of my mother!
Apparently, I was considerably more embarrassed about that than she was.
Mom's friends were enormously amused by everyone's antics.
I was really pleased, and quite touched, at how many people made the trip out to my place for the picnic. It was great to show off the CLEAN house, and the backyard setup worked out well after I raided the neighbors for tables and chairs. I had a spiffy little tent set up for the food, and everyone cooed over Truffle -- when she deigned to come out from her nest, of course.
Oh, yeah. That reminds me: on Friday, I had to go back to the pet store and spend more money on more tunnel-tubes for her.
That critter is living in rodent splendor.
It was after eleven by the time everyone left, and I finally toddled up to bed. I watched the news and was out like the proverbial light.
Spent Monday taking down the tent and putting out all the trash, then went to lunch at the Indian resturant with Mom and Dad. Came home, took a nap, studied for my final exam, and crashed.
I didn't sleep too well, though . . . I think I'm fretting about this test. I don't feel too good about it. Part of my fear is just nerves . . . because I've been out of school for so long, because I haven't felt like I'm really back in the swing of being a student, that kind of thing.
Another part is just plain terror, because I don't feel like I know the material well enough to test on it.
Eek.
I'm trying to put it out of my mind, but it's tough.
Perhaps a nice, soothing cup of tea is in order.
*wanders off*
I finished the assignment from hell and turned it in on Tuesday night. I still can't quite believe that I managed to complete an eight-week project in thirty-six hours. We shall see if that is reflected in the grade. Sigh.
On Thursday, I ended up at the radiology office, getting another ultrasound. My bad leg had been bothering me all week, and by Thursday morning when I got up, it was really painful. I know by now that, if they find any blockages, I'm going to get chucked into the hospital, and I decided that I'd rather be hospitalized on this side of the river than in Philly.
Well, the good news was that the tech who did my ultrasound didn't find anything that looked like it was completely blocking the blood flow and would be causing such extreme pain.
The bad news was that there is evidence of new plaques, indicating that I may be developing "post-thrombolytic syndrome". As near as I can figure out, that means that I'll be fighting blood clots all the damn time.
Fuck.
They also stuck my finger and told me that I had an electrolyte imbalance, which apparently translates to, "You haven't been taking your vitamins, have you?"
My doctor's office wanted me to contact the vascular specialist I'd been seeing, and he couldn't see me until three-thirty. So I spent the day on the couch with the hot water bottle, trying not to panic.
I was absolutely giddy with relief after he examined me and inspected my ultrasound films and suggested that I might just be very low on potassium.
He sent me home and told me to eat bananas and drink orange juice, and by the next day, I was much better.
He also said that you can't diagnose an electrolyte imbalance from just a fingerstick, but thinks I should go to a nutritionist anyway and get a full workup.
Aaargh.
I'm waiting until next week, after my final exam is over and I can breathe a little.
So Friday and Saturday, I spent cleaning the house and preparing for the big Memorial Day picnic on Sunday. I'm always exhausted afterwards . . . hosting a barbecue for twenty-five or more is a lot of work.
I think next year, I'm going to upgrade to chafing dishes for the hot food, and that way I won't have to be trotting back and forth from the grill or the stove when I would rather be mingling with my guests. There's always that burst of activity, when I'm running about, carrying chicken and tossing hot dogs around and freaking out because the corn isn't shucked yet and everyone's arriving at once and oh my god who spilled the mustard and did I remember to put out a corkscrew . . . although fortunately, my guests were quite good-natured about it when I dumped two shopping bags of corn in front of them and yelped, "Here! Get to work!"
I only remembered to add, "Please," when lucifrix quite rightly mentioned the noticeable lack of any politeness. This is what stress does to me. :: toes ground in embarrassment :: Doesn't make it acceptable behavior, though.
So. Improvements for next year include chafing dishes, and forcing my mom to take off the day from work so I'm not running like a crazed weasel all by myself. I also think I might make arrangements with some people to have help with the cleanup at the end of the night, because pouncing on the departing guests and yelling, "No! You can't leave 'til you return the neighbors' chairs to their houses!" does seem to have a stifling effect on the evening's gaiety.
Again with the bossiness-as-a-result-of-stress response. Sorry, again.
However, when I did finally have a chance to sit down and socialize with my guests, it was vastly entertaining. My face hurt from laughing at the stories lucifrix was telling! Even if I was groaning because the word "penis" kept being spoken in front of my mother!
Apparently, I was considerably more embarrassed about that than she was.
Mom's friends were enormously amused by everyone's antics.
I was really pleased, and quite touched, at how many people made the trip out to my place for the picnic. It was great to show off the CLEAN house, and the backyard setup worked out well after I raided the neighbors for tables and chairs. I had a spiffy little tent set up for the food, and everyone cooed over Truffle -- when she deigned to come out from her nest, of course.
Oh, yeah. That reminds me: on Friday, I had to go back to the pet store and spend more money on more tunnel-tubes for her.
That critter is living in rodent splendor.
It was after eleven by the time everyone left, and I finally toddled up to bed. I watched the news and was out like the proverbial light.
Spent Monday taking down the tent and putting out all the trash, then went to lunch at the Indian resturant with Mom and Dad. Came home, took a nap, studied for my final exam, and crashed.
I didn't sleep too well, though . . . I think I'm fretting about this test. I don't feel too good about it. Part of my fear is just nerves . . . because I've been out of school for so long, because I haven't felt like I'm really back in the swing of being a student, that kind of thing.
Another part is just plain terror, because I don't feel like I know the material well enough to test on it.
Eek.
I'm trying to put it out of my mind, but it's tough.
Perhaps a nice, soothing cup of tea is in order.
*wanders off*