Still whirling

Tasmanian Devil, by Kevin Trotman on Flickr, licensed under Creative Commons
Tasmanian Devil, by Kevin Trotman on Flickr, licensed under Creative Commons

I think I may be past the worst of the steroid withdrawal, but I’m still feeling the crazy energy, the gregariousness (God forbid you run into me grocery shopping on a Monday morning), and the not letting one single thing slip past. It makes it hard to get to sleep at night. I take my cocktail of Ativan (as I have learned the cool kids call it), Benadryl, and a couple melatonins and feel my head getting heavier but still – working working working. I need a brain cutoff switch. I should be grateful there is no such thing, of course, but I’ve wanted to invent a new product forever – why not that?

Luckily this morning I put that crazy energy to good use. While grocery shopping, I saw a new load of pastries coming in and snagged a couple of concha rolls, one chocolate, one vanilla, for a coffee break with Rosa (not her real name) who was at home cleaning today. My whole reason for shopping had been to get more spray cleaner for her to use, though, and I forgot that until it was time to check out. Luckily it wasn’t busy so I snagged that. Nothing, not a thing forgotten. I got the groceries home and waited until Rosa could take her break. I made us some decaf con leche and we had our good talk. My Spanish was much better this time, two weeks later. And it reminded me of Mom and our cleaning woman, Lucrecia (may she rest in peace) sitting at our kitchen table eating lunch together for an hour. Lucrecia liked to gossip a bit though – Rosa is not that way. She’s a very positive person who’s had very negative things happen to her. I like her energy.

After our coffee break (remember, it was decaf, but the roll was sugary), I got on the allergy path. It was time to end Young J’s suffering. I left a message for his pediatrician. He’s supposed to go there next week for a camp checkup, but that’s the day of my next MRI and I read today that we’re actually in the middle of a pollen tsunami this week, due to the harshness of the winter and all the trees shedding pollen at once. The pediatrician called back and immediately recommended an allergist. She didn’t know whether the Flonase I snapped up at the drugstore this morning (because it was actually in stock – the allergy aisle has been basically plundered for a week) would actually work better than what we’ve been using. I just want him to stop suffering. Stop digging holes in his already-stinging eyes.

Oh thank GOD. I am looking out the cafe window right now, and I see an umbrella open and a possibly gathering rain. I didn’t actually think that would happen today. We need a really strong, deluxe city-wash kind of storm. I hope we get one. I don’t even mind getting soaked on my walk back from the cafe as long as my laptop survives it.

I wound up unfolding my latest health tale over the phone to Young J’s pediatrician, because they’ve sort of been following my story. By the time I got done explaining my latest news, Dr G said, “I honestly don’t know why you called in the first place!” It must be odd, to be a medical practitioner solidly in one corner of a field and suddenly hear all these details about what is going on in a totally different neighborhood. I was glad my news was good and hopeful. Obviously, I hope it stays good.

I called the allergist, who takes our insurance, and made an appointment for tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning! I couldn’t believe it! What doctor in this city has availability that soon, and during a pollen tsunami no less? More luck, more luck, more happy luck. I felt even luckier when I called our insurance company and heard we’ve met our deductible for the year already (I SHOULD F-ING HOPE SO). Young J, your deliverance from suffering is at hand. In the meantime, come straight home from school today, scrub your hands and wash your face… and for the love of all that is holy, keep all the windows closed, my love.

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