AIRING OUT MY BRAIN

I guess I’ve been neglecting posting mostly for lack of anything interesting or positive to report.  I’ve been experiencing a kind of  crappy intermission lately; a break from my normally wonderful, exciting and enthusiastic existence.  Ha.

Let’s get all the shitty shit crap out of the way and move on to the lighter side then…

I had what I’m going to refer to as a Red Flag Pap test a couple of weeks ago.  (Guys, feel free to skip over this uncomfortable female stuff…)  My wonderfully wonderful gynecologist-who incidentally lets me call him George, (I think I mentioned this before and this just illustrates the priceless nature of our doctor-patient relationship.  Most women would tell you, to have a gynecological trust and candor such as this would make their life complete…) called to tell me that he was “concerned” and why and scheduled me for a biopsy.  In his office, no less, which is way more comforting than having it done in a cold, impersonal room in a hospital with a bunch of strangers.  To make a long story short, I had it done on Tuesday and am patiently (mmm…) awaiting the results.  Unnerving, kinda.  Was hoping for a Friday call so’s I wouldn’t have to endure the weekend anticipation of a Monday call.  I prefer stress-free weekends, don’t you know.

So I’m spending today getting my hair cut and taking the Mom shawpin’.

Tomorrow Poopy and I will celebrate 7 years of wedded bliss.  I choose to refer to it that way, he’ll maybe describe it in another way… But I know he loves me in spite of … well, that’s another post altogether.  😉  Seven years. Oooh-chee-wow-a. (Now, if there is an actual way to spell that, please lmk.)

So, the other night I’m in the shower.  I put the nearly-full-and-so-rather-weighty shampoo bottle back on the shelf which is, oh I don’t know, five and a half feet up.  If I’d had my eyes open I may have seen it slide off the shelf and may have been able to move my foot in time.  Instead, that bugger bounced off that bone on the top of my foot midway between my ankle and big toe.  I may have said the f-word cause baby, that HURT.

I will post tomorrow aboot my other issue this week.  This is getting long and whiney.  In the meantime, please go visit my radically awesome nephew and read how he acquired his second foul ball this season at a Pirate game.  That has to be some kind of freaky record.  Though I’m not a big sports fan, I am however a huge fan of rushes and that had to be quite a rush for him.

I’m off.  Have a great weekend. 

 Adrienne, have a lovely Birthday.  🙂 ~~~~~  XOXO

To all the MRTADs (Men Referred to as “Dad”) out there, Happy Father’s Day to you.

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14 responses to “AIRING OUT MY BRAIN

  1. Please don’t let it ruin your weekend, and definitely keep us updated if you feel comfortable doing so (can’t understand why you might suddenly not).

    Happy Annie Bearsurry. Let’s see, what was happening when Shannon and I had been married seven years? We had just moved to beautiful Bella Vista, AR, where I took a 50% pay cut to try my hand at journalism, and she took a job as a bank Information Desk girl (which, in a 20,000-plus village of mostly retirees is a busy place).

    So, it’s time for you to turn your lives upside-down. Go.

  2. Mark, I’m on it! Now if I can just get Poopy in gear… 🙂

  3. I’m sure George will have good news for you. Not a doubt in my mind. You’re good at keeping on top of that kind of thing.

    Have a happy, happy anniversary day. Seven years…it’s hard to remember when you guys weren’t together. Of course there was the marathon courtship. I’m going to break that record.

    Hope your foot feels better. I hate when that happens, and it seems to happen a lot to me!

  4. I’ll be sure to keep you in my prayers, RE your test results.
    Congrats on 7 years.
    And thanks for the Happy Father’s Day. Now, if only get my kids remember without someone having to say something…

  5. Haze, thank you and thank you. Having your good thoughts makes it easier. I love you.
    So how far along are you and SO in the marathon? I lose track… The two of you should be committed by now, I think. Take that however you like 😉
    Right after the shower incident I blasted my foot with cold water until it didn’t hurt anymore and it hasn’t hurt since.
    M+, how very good to hear from you! I know your prayers aren’t to be taken lightly and I appreciate it immensely. Thank you 🙂 I didn’t know you had plural children, I only know of Bob. I honestly hope they give you a nice day.
    Before you know it you and Trish will have 7 years 😉

  6. 11 years, 6 months tomorrow. You’re right, I should be committed……….

  7. Hazel, omg. You already broke our record. We got engaged Sept. 22, 1990 (or was it ’91???) and married in 2000. I do however, recommend long engagements.
    Polly wants to know if/when you’ll make her scarf. I don’t think she means out of dog hair.

  8. It’s June for Chrissakes! But then, knowing me like she does, it’s time to ask………

  9. i so love the shortcut for “lmk”, i’ll be stealing/borrowing it 🙂 i’ll be crossig my fingers and toes on your test. shower accidents always seem to hurt worse than others outside of the shower.
    and guess what? i just wrote a post about MY NEPHEW tonight! before i even came over 🙂

  10. Hazel. So I can tell her you’ll be getting on that? 😉 Kidding. Wouldn’t do that to ya.

    Piglet, I know lots of those… 😉
    Thanks for the finger/toe crossing (how do you do that?)
    You got a new nephew? Congratulations. You must be The Cool Aunt.

  11. Boy, am I behind. I hope to find out in another entry that you are okay. My wife and I both love her OB/GYN. I’m kind of sad I only get to see him when she’s pregnant.

    Anyway…have to read some more so I can make sure you are not terminally ill.

  12. Alvis, Thanks so much for all your catching up comments. You know what, since I’ve been running into you around these parts, (and I’ve never told you this…) I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought, gee… Alvis sure has some non-typical attitudes. You must be one cool idividual.
    I say that now because I have honestly never heard a man say that he loves his wife’s gynecologist. Poopy likes and respects mine, but he would never admit to more than that.

  13. Oh, man, my wife’s gynecologist (before we moved to Texas) was one of my favorite doctors. She just happened be a little hottie, too, if I may say so in mixed company. When she prescribed lots of sex back when Shannon was having trouble getting pregnant (by me), I joked to Shannon, “Um, I was hoping my she would demonstrate the proper method.”

    I’m pretty sure I got a hit on the arm for that one.

  14. Mark, Ha! I love you, dude. Always have, always will.

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