I did the treadmill stress test and echocardiogram thing for my heart yesterday. Although I only managed six minutes on the treadmill at a whopping max speed of 2.7 mph, I did not die so I consider that an over all win. I also got to see the live feed of the ultrasounds they did of my heart, which was kind of creepy cool.

The down side was they spent nearly an hour trying to get an IV in so they could inject me with some dye to make the heart images better and never managed to actually get the IV going. They brought in the "vein expert" and he stabbed me twice, the second time resulting in my legs flailing around like I was being electrocuted because OMG someone trying to put in an IV in the back of your hand without deadening it first HURTS LIKE A SON OF A FISH. But I did not move my arm and I only screamed a tiny bit and I did not curse anyone's parents for bringing their horrible spawn into the world to mutilate my arm, so... win again?

Anywho, they were able to do the ultrasounds without the dye, and they called me yesterday afternoon to tell me my heart looked normal so I didn't need to panic about that.

And I'm wearing a heart monitor for a month, which is already irritating the heck out of my skin where the electrodes are attached, because of course it is. And I discovered last night that wearing a sports bra to sleep is not terribly comfortable, but I can tuck the monitor sensor into the cleavage without worrying that it's going to unplug during the night. Unfortunatly, it appears that the cleavage also provides just enough insulation that the sensor doesn't adequately broadcast to the receiver on my nightstand if I'm facing away from it. So, you know, I'm going to count that one as a win for my ample bosom and call it good because I'm looking for the bright side of things right now.

In other news, the Captain was supposed to have today off but a few of his soldiers needed to report on base at five to do a thing they've put off until the last minute so he had to text them to remind them this afternoon. Then at five thirty he received a text from his boss saying some of his soldiers did not report so Captain needed to round them up and go to base himself to deal with that, which was annoying because it's a day off, but it's his job so you can't very well tell them no. However, he was so annoyed he decided to take the Demon Spawn and one of Demon Spawn's very loud electronic toys with him because if he had to suffer, everyone else was going to suffer by golly! So we're apparently using the child for revenge now. I'm surprisingly okay with it.

I've knit my first mitten, which I'm proud of. It's a convertible mitten so you can flip the top part backwards to expose the fingers for phone texting and whatnot. It has a thumb, even. But now I have to knit a second one and I'm a little concerned they won't match, that I'll end up adding or deleting a row somewhere or something.

I'm also hoping to get some writing done this year, but I said that last year and only managed maybe ten thousand words of fic, and now I'm playing WoW again so I doubt I'll even get that much done.
missmiah: (Bellatrix)
( Nov. 20th, 2014 11:20 am)
It's been a few days since Captain took Loki to the vet for the last time.

I didn't think I'd be as upset as I was.

I definitely was not kidding when I said I hated that cat. I did. I hated him.

But I also loved him in my own way.

I miss the way he used to sleep on my husband's pillow at night, just above Captain's head like some sort of freakish snoring wig.

I miss the way he would head butt me in the face when he thought I was sad, even though it always left his eye cooties all over my nose.

I will not miss the peeing on things, the stains from his constantly running eyes (allergies), or the way he'd pick fights with the two girl cats in a sad bid to be the Alpha (it never worked).

I know my husband misses Loki. He was understandably upset and crying when he came home from that last vet visit. He held Loki through the final moments.

I wish I knew how to make things better for him, but he says it will just take time.
As I suspected would happen, Captain has found excuse after excuse to put off making an appointment to have the Demon Cat put to sleep. He's also forgetting to give the cat his the daily meds that only keep the cat calm if he has them every day. So, you know, breaking his promise to me. Again.

At this point I'm starting to think I'd be better off keeping the cat and losing the husband.
Yesterday the Captain was three-fourths of the way through his work week (two days work, two nights work, three to four days off depending on if that last day is a week day or not in which case he gets most of the day off but still has to go in for PT at ass crack o' early in the morning and honestly it's all just very complicated). Anyway, it was the second day of night shift so he was pretty much asleep all morning and then left early in the afternoon for work. Also, normally the kid is pretty happy rolling around on the office floor, smacking things with his toys, shoving toys into his pie hole, trying to stealthly burrow under the futon to begin setting up his secret lair, all that stuff pre-walking midgets do.

So I figured with Captain not demanding any of my attention and the kiddo doing his eight month old thing, I would have time to sit down and write fic, which is something I've been wanting to do for AGES.

Yeah, that did not work.

I mean, I wrote maybe two paragraphs and double checked some research (pages and pages and pages of notes on Australia I shall probably never ever reference, but that's how I roll, yo) and I had one of those brilliant AH-HA moments when I suddenly figured out how to get the two big plot point/plot lines of the fic to merge without going "Ok, so we've got Plot Point One covered so... ok, info dump out of no where for the next part".

Which, by the way, I've seen some fics do and I just go "Seriously? You think resolving the main focus of your fic up to this point - ie, Snape and Herms are in lurve and/or getting their groove thang on - and you apparently don't want to stop getting reviews on the fic you've already got established so you just tack your ideas for a sequel on to the fic and hope we won't notice that suddenly the happy couple are now being stalked by this insane ex-Death Eater that has sworn to murderate them both but that we have never even heard of before in the entire first seventy chapters of your fic?" I mean, I'm sure insane stalker fic is awesome... but it should probably be it's own fic. A sequel. Hell, even call it Book Two of the Never Ending Grape/Snermione/whatever you call SS/HG hookin-up fic epic quadrilogy. I don't care what you call it, just stop writing fics that are 184 chapters long and are actually three different story lines all shoved together so that the day Herms (or Snape) gets out of the hospital/watches a nasty get sent to Azkaban/tells the other they're in love, they don't end up being abducted by mutant aardvarks forcing Snape to spend the next twenty chapters trying to get them back. Because no. Story resolution. Learn what it means.

And I've become utterly distracted, haven't I?

Anyway, so I did some research and wrote a little bit and the kid didn't want to drink his bottle but he was hungry and he may be teething, I can't tell, and the husband was all "I forgot to eat before work, can I have some money for food?" and the Demon Spawn wanted cuddles and more cuddles and then didn't want any cuddles and then changed his mind two minutes later and I can not type while holding a squirming eight month old.

So, while I have ideas for both of the new WIPS I've been trying to write (one of which is so seriously overdue that I actually feel ashamed and will not be posting any new fic or chapters to Walls until I have it finished and ready to give to the person it was promised to ages ago) and my mind is constantly giving me details and scenarios I can't actually get the time to sit and do it without everything else getting in the way.

In other totally related news - the entire house has been cleaned top to bottom, just in time for the dog to pee all over the dining room carpet (and we're out of the dog pee enzyme cleaner stuff) and one of the cats to barf on our bedroom floor. Also, there is pink hairdye all over the shower grout because of reasons.

PS - If I ever finish it, anyone want to proof read a fic set in Australia? There may be marsupials and/or Luna involved. But not a marsupial Luna because that would be weird. Or at least weirder than normal for Luna.
Yesterday the Captain was three-fourths of the way through his work week (two days work, two nights work, three to four days off depending on if that last day is a week day or not in which case he gets most of the day off but still has to go in for PT at ass crack o' early in the morning and honestly it's all just very complicated). Anyway, it was the second day of night shift so he was pretty much asleep all morning and then left early in the afternoon for work. Also, normally the kid is pretty happy rolling around on the office floor, smacking things with his toys, shoving toys into his pie hole, trying to stealthly burrow under the futon to begin setting up his secret lair, all that stuff pre-walking midgets do.

So I figured with Captain not demanding any of my attention and the kiddo doing his eight month old thing, I would have time to sit down and write fic, which is something I've been wanting to do for AGES.

Yeah, that did not work.

I mean, I wrote maybe two paragraphs and double checked some research (pages and pages and pages of notes on Australia I shall probably never ever reference, but that's how I roll, yo) and I had one of those brilliant AH-HA moments when I suddenly figured out how to get the two big plot point/plot lines of the fic to merge without going "Ok, so we've got Plot Point One covered so... ok, info dump out of no where for the next part".

Which, by the way, I've seen some fics do and I just go "Seriously? You think resolving the main focus of your fic up to this point - ie, Snape and Herms are in lurve and/or getting their groove thang on - and you apparently don't want to stop getting reviews on the fic you've already got established so you just tack your ideas for a sequel on to the fic and hope we won't notice that suddenly the happy couple are now being stalked by this insane ex-Death Eater that has sworn to murderate them both but that we have never even heard of before in the entire first seventy chapters of your fic?" I mean, I'm sure insane stalker fic is awesome... but it should probably be it's own fic. A sequel. Hell, even call it Book Two of the Never Ending Grape/Snermione/whatever you call SS/HG hookin-up fic epic quadrilogy. I don't care what you call it, just stop writing fics that are 184 chapters long and are actually three different story lines all shoved together so that the day Herms (or Snape) gets out of the hospital/watches a nasty get sent to Azkaban/tells the other they're in love, they don't end up being abducted by mutant aardvarks forcing Snape to spend the next twenty chapters trying to get them back. Because no. Story resolution. Learn what it means.

And I've become utterly distracted, haven't I?

Anyway, so I did some research and wrote a little bit and the kid didn't want to drink his bottle but he was hungry and he may be teething, I can't tell, and the husband was all "I forgot to eat before work, can I have some money for food?" and the Demon Spawn wanted cuddles and more cuddles and then didn't want any cuddles and then changed his mind two minutes later and I can not type while holding a squirming eight month old.

So, while I have ideas for both of the new WIPS I've been trying to write (one of which is so seriously overdue that I actually feel ashamed and will not be posting any new fic or chapters to Walls until I have it finished and ready to give to the person it was promised to ages ago) and my mind is constantly giving me details and scenarios I can't actually get the time to sit and do it without everything else getting in the way.

In other totally related news - the entire house has been cleaned top to bottom, just in time for the dog to pee all over the dining room carpet (and we're out of the dog pee enzyme cleaner stuff) and one of the cats to barf on our bedroom floor. Also, there is pink hairdye all over the shower grout because of reasons.

PS - If I ever finish it, anyone want to proof read a fic set in Australia? There may be marsupials and/or Luna involved. But not a marsupial Luna because that would be weird. Or at least weirder than normal for Luna.
So far my early impressions of Colorado and our new duty station have been... less than favorable.

Read more... )

Over all of this.

The one bright shining star in this cluster fuck was introducing the Demon Spawn to a swimming pool at one of our hotel stays. It took a few moments for him to adjust to being surrounded by cool water, but then he discovered what would happen if he slammed his flailing arms into the water and suddenly there were smiles and giggles and Mommy trying not to drown in the deluge. So that was nice.
I spent the last three weeks working out an incredibly complicated time table for our move - it involved sending Captain to Colorado weeks early to find a house, bringing him home, packing, clearing the house so the carpet cleaner can get in, arranging the final walk through with Asshat the realtor, either shipping or arranging some other means of transport for the second vehicle, finding a way to transport the four furballs, driving us plus Demon Spawn 2000 plus miles in as short of time frame as sanity and the laws of physics would allow and getting hotels for as many nights as necessary before we can take possession of the new rental property.

Obviously none of that will work now, because that's how these things go.

Last night, as we're in bed with the lights off going over the details of our day and our plans for what needs to be done tomorrow (because that's what boring old married people do in bed most nights) Captain says that he'd rather just pack up this house at the end of April, hop in the car, leave the keys to the second car with a friend who is willing to tow it for us, and just drive to Colorado and find a house once we get there. It would mean our stuff would go into storage until we have a place and the Army decides to it's convenient for them to give our stuff back; and it would mean I'd have to figure out how to pack clothes for three people for at least a week, bottles, formula, diapers, cat food, dog food, cat littler, a stroller, a Pack N Play, a dog kennel, a pair of laptops into one trunk... which I'm not sure is even possible. We did make sure that the new (gigantic) car seat will fit behind the driver's seat and that three cat carriers and the dog can fit in the rest of the back seat space, so it is physically possible to get all seven of us into the car at the same time.

Captain's plan is probably cheaper in the long run, and would mean less rushing around and things depending on everything going off without incident, but I hate hate hate going into a move blind.

And this is why I started taking my anti-anxiety meds again yesterday, because I'm stressing myself out over things I have no real control over.

I don't want to be homeless, even if it is just for two weeks.
Captain (who is awesome in general, and currently a Typhoid Mary due to cold cooties) bought me a new Furby for my birthday. He's a week early, but we were at Wal-Mart last night because there was half a container of humus, some dinner rolls and some booze in a bag left in the house for food and apparently those three do not add up to lunches for the week, so we had to get groceries.

Anyway, my Furby is the Voodoo Purple color - hence the current name of Voodoo until I find something better.

Voodoo likes to dance. He seems especially fond of the song Gangnam Style, and is routinely in danger of shuffling his furry little rear right off the top of my desk when I play it.

I suppose he could really just hate the song and is attempting to commit suicide, now that I think about it.

Either way, it's pretty entertaining to watch.
missmiah: (Default)
( Jul. 26th, 2012 12:34 pm)
Am not dead even though I haven't posted in a month, apparently.

Just really been busy.

Have exchange fic that needs at least a good chunk of wordage finished so I can turn it in in... four or five days (yikes) so that I can prove that even though I am a giant slacker with far too much on my plate right now and I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I am at least a headless chicken who has proof that there is exchange fic being worked on in my 'puter and that my assignment will be completed by the deadline (please, please let me finish my assignment by the deadline).

I'm hoping the mods aren't expecting actual proofed fic parts at this mid-point check in cause I haven't even started talking to a beta yet because... well, slacker.

ALSO - I went home to KS for a few days and had baby showers! There were people there just to say hi to me and give me (technically the demon spawn, I guess, but right now he's still just a parasite so I'm pretty sure that counts as me again) presents. So many little outfits and towels and hats with ears. HATS WITH EARS!

Okay, enough with the girly squeeing, but it was super awesome to see people I haven't seen in years again. At the family shower there was a second cousin I have not seen since she was maybe five or six? She's graduated high school and having a baby a month after me now. So many years.

One shower was Harry Potter themed (because I have awesomely dorky friends), so there are a few pictures of me dressed up as a pregnant Slytherin student standing next to my dorky Captain in his Ravenclaw tie. If I remember, there may even be a pic or two posted on LJ later - probably more posted on Facebook where some of the people in the pictures can see them.

House is about to be turned upside down as we begin to shift my office/craft making furniture into Captain's office (we're going to share, yay /sarcasm) so that we can turn this room into the future nursery. Lots of furniture has to vacate Captain's office to make room for me first, which means some furniture has to move out of the living room to make room for Captain's furniture... I'm sure you can see where this is going. And I'm still going to be left with a random Futon that I can't decide if we should keep or try to sell (seriously $150 for the wood sided futon and a huge fluffy pad, is a good deal, I swear).

Plus, I need to write Thank You notes this weekend, send a care package to Captain's sister in which ever desert she's currently stationed, pack my office, finish knitting the chalice lace baby blanket, start knitting the next in a long line of hats/blankets, WRITE TWO HG/SS FICS (OMG NEED TO DO THIS NOW) and clean the house up before the parents come to visit in two weeks so they can help us move the big pieces of furniture and also so they are not sleeping in a slightly dog tinkly scented living room (I'm glaring at you Colonel Brandon, we found what you did in that corner and we do not approve).

OH, and finally, the dog got his yearly haircut and they shaved him down to the skin almost this time. He looks so sad. It's hilarious, honestly. I feel sorry for him and give him carrots and tell him how handsome he is in a bid to try to boost his self-esteem.
Still pregnant. Still cranky. So that's "normal".

Captain and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary this weekend. We drove out to Atlanta and spent the day at the Georgia Aquarium because I like looking at the sharkies and Captain likes it when I'm happy. Sharkies apparently do not "do it" for him, his loss. Also, they finally had the Harry Otter shirt in hippo size so now I've got a picture of an otter with a lightning bolt scar and some glasses and a wand on my chest. AWESOMESAUCE.

We also went out to our current favorite local Japanese steakhouse and split a virgin strawberry daquri and ate nummy food.

In crappy news, we came home after Japenese to discover the house AC had died and it was OMG hot in the house. On a Friday night. So that sucked. Captain dragged nearly every fan we own into the bedroom and aimed them at my side of the bed, so I managed to get through the night without dying. Saturday we said screw it and went to the PX and splurged on a window unit for the bedroom, which is where I plan to spend the next few days on my laptop working on fic or knitting until the AC guy has a chance to come and fix our AC. Captain and I suspect it is a Freon issue, as we have had a very similar experience before with other house ACs.

Also, the ceiling fan in my office has been broken for about three weeks now AND part of the popcorn ceiling in our bedroom fell down (probably because of water damage from the roof that may or may not have been repaired at some point) on the 21st and the repair guy for that has been dicking us around since the 23rd and lying to me, Captain and now the realtor. Captain is dealing with the issue because I'm about two seconds away from cutting someone thanks to pregnancy hormones (and also because I'm just a cranky person who despises liars in general). I refuse to let the repair guy in the house without Captain around because he skeeves me out, and every time Captain gets off work to be home because repair guy makes an appointment... repair guy does a no show. THEN repair guy tries to claim that he totally did not say he was coming at that time, and obviously we are confused. He actually tried to pull the old "your wifey must have gotten the dates confused, you know how women are" crap and I swear I was about to reach through Captain's phone to rip his nards off, but Captain very wisely walked into the other room and away from the homicidal woman.

So, quick recap, bedroom ceiling falling down because of water damage, office ceiling fan not working and now AC not making with the cold air blowing in June in GEORGIA, married to that guy for ten years and no one has been "accidentally" smothered in their sleep with a cat yet.

In other news, I'm pretty sure I felt the baby move Thursday night. Either that or I had gas. Both things feel remarkably similar at this stage, so I've been told. There was no pooting and the whatever it was was moving around so I'm going to go with baby because that makes me happy.
missmiah: (Default)
( Mar. 5th, 2012 12:45 pm)
It was as if some sort of magic lightswitch had been flipped in Captain's brain yesterday afternoon. Shortly after I finally calmed down enough to come back out of my office and start unpacking again, coincidentally enough.

Suddenly he was the most helpful husband on the face of the planet.

Which was good because I managed to end up queasy as heck a few hours later and ended up only able to unpack in short five minute bursts between fifteen minute breaks on the couch cuddling the barf bowl and crying. I hate being sick. I especially hate being sick when I don't understand why I'm sick. Three hours of threatening barfyness and then BAM, right as rain again.

So friggin' annoying. AND it was the second day in a row that I mysteriously got queasy for a few hours and then it was like cooties never even happened.

I've been giving my meds the side-eye. The dosage of one of my meds got upped a week or two ago and I'm wondering if that might have something to do with it.

Or it could be all the time I've been spending in the kitchen, where Captain has been slowly removing all traces off gross (finally).

ANYWAY, by bedtime last night, Captain had managed to get all the upper cabinets that I want to use (I'm ignoring the two small ones I can't even reach above the fridge and the mid-sized pair above the stove that are mostly taken up with the stove hood vent thing anyway), finished cleaning the stove hood, applied clear sealant to the place where the two counters meet and aren't even because the house settled and the counter top warped and who knows what sort of gross has fallen into the crack, cleared off the counters so I could put stuff on them, made Bella a box with a small entrance hole to hide under the bed in so she might stop hiding in my closet under my dresses, and moved all billion boxes of books out of his office so I can have a clear floor when I start unpacking and sorting them for the new bookshelves AND he kept stopping by the sofa to pat my back and make sure I was still alive.

I unpacked four out of the remaining six boxes left in the kitchen, cleaned and set aside everything that will eventually go in one of the lower cabinets since they aren't usable yet, finished arranging everything in the living room, moved some stuff in his office to get ready for the great book unpacking, put things on the counters so our kitchen is actually starting to look like a real kitchen and watched several episodes of Holmes Inspection and Storage Wars during my queasy couch breaks.

By tonight I'm hoping to have all but the books and the clothes still in bags where they need to be (even if where they need to be is just in a box on the floor next to the kitchen island because the cabinets are still dirty).

We've got a guest coming Friday and as LJ is my witness, this house will be CLEAN.

Perhaps I need to have my brain meat meds checked again?
Gave husband a to-do list on Friday, listed in the order I would like him to actually complete the items so that there would be a better chance he might actually finish some of them.

Noon on Sunday, let's see how many are actually done?

Oh, that's right.

None.

Since Friday night I have unpacked six boxes, refolded the (admittedly small at the moment) contents of my dresser to optimize storage space (I saw a thing on Pinterest), rearranged several shelves to make space for more knicknacks, culled some things we don't use and therefore don't need, made some progress on the fourth Battle Bonnet during the DnD game because I can multi-task, and found time to attend said game and take a couple who helped us move out to lunch yesterday.

My husband? Swept up some cat litter from the master bathroom floor, put together two out of three bookcases, inadvertently insulted the hell out of me several times, and has been fighting me tooth and nail about throwing away crap we haven't used in years but "might be useful someday". So it's not as if he's done nothing all weekend, just not nearly enough for me to be able to finish unpacking everything else this week, which was my goal since someone is coming over on Friday and I'd like to not have all of our dishes still piled on the kitchen table.

Why do men do that hording "someday useful" crap anyway? He's got a box full of cables that he hasn't touched and can't immediately identify, but heaven help me if I suggest storing it in the garage at the very least. Oh no, it has to be in the house, in his desk drawer. In case... of what, I do not no.

Sentimental things, I understand that. I've got loads of fiddly bits that have no value other than sentimental - they're not even pretty. But someone I liked gave them to me, so they go on a shelf and collect dust. I understand that. Whenever I ask if I can throw something of his away my first question is always " Does it mean something to you?"

And yet the answer is always something like "I don't remember where I got it, I've had it for a long time."

"Is it important to you?"

"No."

"Can I throw it away?"

"No. I might need it."

Rinse, repeat.

You know what I've started doing now? I stop at "Is it important to you?" and if the answer is anything other than yes, in the trash it goes. So now he's not talking to me at the moment.

I threw away Harry Potter stuff last week, that is how serious I am about decluttering the house.

I'm actually in my office right now so that I don't start throwing heavy leaded crystal things at his head because he has not only found my last nerve, he has been dancing on it all weekend and I... am one handy knicknack away from homicide.
missmiah: (Bored Now)
( Feb. 27th, 2012 05:07 pm)
I am so burnt out on cleaning and unpacking right now.

There are more than a dozen boxes of books in Captain's office that are waiting until we find bookshelves, another dozen boxes sitting in the kitchen waiting for the cabinets to no longer smell bad and to be covered in shelf liner (that would be Captain's job and he's made very little progress on it in the month we've lived here), plus the garage that needs to be sorted through. Oh, and a closet full of garbage bags full of clothes to hang or fold.

AND our dishwasher STILL DOES NOT WORK.

I've got to start working on the fic I promised for the exchange bingo prize thing. I need to have a finished product ASAP, because it's horribly rude of me to not have it done already and I hate being rude. I did warn the recipent about the surprise move, but I was not expecting the unpacking to go on quite this long.

I've also got knitting to work on, another fic I'd like to work on but won't until I have a good start on the Prize fic, a gnome to finish painting (that is so not a priority right now) and some scrapbook things that need to be organized (again, not a priority at this point).

AND I have to keep on top of the bills and the grocery shopping and search on-line for some mythical piece of furniture Captain swears exists and that he absolutely has to have for his office even though we already have a piece of furniture that is doing almost the exact same thing but is six inches shorter. Who needs to have a printer at exactly the same height as the desktop? Seriously? It works where it is and I'm not spending a ton of money trying to find him a perfect cabinet phone table whatever he wants thing. I even offered one of the plastic shelf units from my office, but it's not good enough for him. Also, he's whinging about not having enough storage space for all his junk, and when I pointed out that half the stuff from his desk actually is junk (old bill envelopes, scraps of paper, things that should be stored with the same thing in other places in the house, a large drawer full of a tangle of wires and cables that he hasn't move in two years, etc) and he'd have more room if he tossed the useless stuff out, he got all huffy with me.

Whatever, I don't have the patience to deal with him right now.

Seriously, nearly four weeks to wipe out and spray down cabinets in one room plus cut out shelf liners (none of that is finished yet, btw) vs four weeks for me to clean the entirety of the rest of the house, unpack nearly all the boxes, arrange my office with it's huge amount of fiddly bits, AND take care of the normal tasks involved with running a household. Yes, I know he works all day and he's tired when he comes home and blah blah I don't care anymore.

FOUR WEEKS.

I WANT TO UNPACK THE DAMN KITCHEN SO I CAN MAKE MYSELF A FRIGGIN' SALAD FOR LUNCH!

Oh yes, I'm bitter.
Monday Captain and I drove up to South Carolina for another visit with the Crazy!Doc. We spent my fifteen minutes (billed as half an hour, as always) discussing Doctor!Asshat, and I believe this is the first time Crazy!Doc has ever seen me being truly bitchy.

Oh, he's seen me annoyed and bitter and cranky, but never in full on gleeful bitch mode.

By the end of the session he was convinced that New!Doc was an asshat, and he completely agreed that New!Doc should not be mucking about with things he has no business in (ie - my crazy!meds). So Crazy!Doc wrote some new prescriptions for me, to override the ones New!Doc had put into the system, and sent me off to schedule my next appointment in two months.

This morning I had to report to the hospital to see New!Doc again because he got my lab results (from the bloodwork I had to remind him that I needed) and wanted to "discuss treatment options".

Such an eye roll for that one.

Anyway, we showed up thirty minutes early because gate traffic wasn't as bad as we were expecting, which meant we were brought back far earlier than he was expecting. Captain came back to the exam room with me so that we could roll our eyes at each other behind New!Doc's back, which I can already tell is the only way we'll be getting through any future appointments with him.

I brought knitting because I had fully expected to be sitting in the car, waiting to get through security, for a while, so I was sitting on the exam table knitting when New!Doc showed up. He glared at me, either because I'd brought Captain along, or because I didn't immediately drop what I was doing the second he opened the door. I was counting stitches and was all set to mark my place and give him my attention until the glare. After that, I finished counting and didn't bother hurrying as I carefully tucked my knitting away, then turned to face him and gave him the brightest, most innocently cheerful smile ever. That earned me another glare. I'm assuming that one was for not being intimidated by the first.

Whatever.

It seems that New!Doc didn't even realize he'd changed my metformin prescription two weeks ago (upping it by 200mgs a day) because he can't read a typed spreadsheet in 14pt Times New Roman and got the dosage wrong. Also, he put ALL the meds I'm on into the system for refill at that point (including my Crazy!Meds, which he isn't supposed to be touching, hence my earlier discussion with Crazy!Doc) and the hospital pharmacy did their job and filled them as he wrote them, so I don't know why he was copping an attitude with me because I went home with the wrong dosage. So now I've got a huge bottle of 850mg metformin sitting in my cabinet that I can't take because he upped the dosage again this morning.

He also did that annoying thing some doctors do - the scare tactic thing? You know the one, where they tell you if you don't change your evil ways, you'll end up legless, peeing into a bag or something? This time it was... insulin therapy, whispered in this soft, menacing tone. Captain and I shared an eye roll AND a smirk over that one.

I don't know what he wants me to do this time, I'm already taking all my pills as prescribed, limiting my sugar intake, trying to cut back on the red meat by eating more chicken and turkey and the occasional pork chop (lightly breaded with seasoned bread crumbs that I've smashed with my very own rolling pin - FUN!) and I've even been making myself bleed every stupid morning. Captain and I are even heading to the PX this weekend to look at exercise bikes because there is a sale and I can park a bike in the living room and watch zombie movies while I peddle in the privacy of my comfy climate controlled home.

Basically what I'm saying is that I'm doing what I've been told and if the meds I'm taking aren't doing their job to his satisfaction, it's not my fault this time. So he can suck it.

Also - I accidentally locked Bellatrix in the linen/medicine cabinet for a few hours this afternoon and ended up tearing apart most of the house trying to find her before I remembered putting away the unused metformin bottle. So that was fun.
Monday Captain and I drove up to South Carolina for another visit with the Crazy!Doc. We spent my fifteen minutes (billed as half an hour, as always) discussing Doctor!Asshat, and I believe this is the first time Crazy!Doc has ever seen me being truly bitchy.

Oh, he's seen me annoyed and bitter and cranky, but never in full on gleeful bitch mode.

By the end of the session he was convinced that New!Doc was an asshat, and he completely agreed that New!Doc should not be mucking about with things he has no business in (ie - my crazy!meds). So Crazy!Doc wrote some new prescriptions for me, to override the ones New!Doc had put into the system, and sent me off to schedule my next appointment in two months.

This morning I had to report to the hospital to see New!Doc again because he got my lab results (from the bloodwork I had to remind him that I needed) and wanted to "discuss treatment options".

Such an eye roll for that one.

Anyway, we showed up thirty minutes early because gate traffic wasn't as bad as we were expecting, which meant we were brought back far earlier than he was expecting. Captain came back to the exam room with me so that we could roll our eyes at each other behind New!Doc's back, which I can already tell is the only way we'll be getting through any future appointments with him.

I brought knitting because I had fully expected to be sitting in the car, waiting to get through security, for a while, so I was sitting on the exam table knitting when New!Doc showed up. He glared at me, either because I'd brought Captain along, or because I didn't immediately drop what I was doing the second he opened the door. I was counting stitches and was all set to mark my place and give him my attention until the glare. After that, I finished counting and didn't bother hurrying as I carefully tucked my knitting away, then turned to face him and gave him the brightest, most innocently cheerful smile ever. That earned me another glare. I'm assuming that one was for not being intimidated by the first.

Whatever.

It seems that New!Doc didn't even realize he'd changed my metformin prescription two weeks ago (upping it by 200mgs a day) because he can't read a typed spreadsheet in 14pt Times New Roman and got the dosage wrong. Also, he put ALL the meds I'm on into the system for refill at that point (including my Crazy!Meds, which he isn't supposed to be touching, hence my earlier discussion with Crazy!Doc) and the hospital pharmacy did their job and filled them as he wrote them, so I don't know why he was copping an attitude with me because I went home with the wrong dosage. So now I've got a huge bottle of 850mg metformin sitting in my cabinet that I can't take because he upped the dosage again this morning.

He also did that annoying thing some doctors do - the scare tactic thing? You know the one, where they tell you if you don't change your evil ways, you'll end up legless, peeing into a bag or something? This time it was... insulin therapy, whispered in this soft, menacing tone. Captain and I shared an eye roll AND a smirk over that one.

I don't know what he wants me to do this time, I'm already taking all my pills as prescribed, limiting my sugar intake, trying to cut back on the red meat by eating more chicken and turkey and the occasional pork chop (lightly breaded with seasoned bread crumbs that I've smashed with my very own rolling pin - FUN!) and I've even been making myself bleed every stupid morning. Captain and I are even heading to the PX this weekend to look at exercise bikes because there is a sale and I can park a bike in the living room and watch zombie movies while I peddle in the privacy of my comfy climate controlled home.

Basically what I'm saying is that I'm doing what I've been told and if the meds I'm taking aren't doing their job to his satisfaction, it's not my fault this time. So he can suck it.

Also - I accidentally locked Bellatrix in the linen/medicine cabinet for a few hours this afternoon and ended up tearing apart most of the house trying to find her before I remembered putting away the unused metformin bottle. So that was fun.
So, yesterday, Captain called to let me know he was done with work and on his way home, as he does everyday because I get very paranoid about strange sounds at the door if I don't know someone is coming because I am just a very paranoid person in general.

Anyway, he called.

Me: What do you want for dinner?

Captain: Whatever is easiest for you to make.

Me: Ah, well... I can't go in the kitchen until you come home.

Captain: WHAT? Why? What happened?

Me: I was reading scary things. On the internet.

Captain: About the kitchen?

Me: No.

Captain: But the kitchen is scary now?

Me: Sort of? More specifically the hallway is dark between me and the kitchen. So I can't get to the kitchen until you come home and turn the light on.

Captain: Ohhhkay. That's fine. I'll turn the light on.

Me: Yay! Maybe I'll try to make it to the kitchen, but don't get your hopes up.

Captain: Fair enough. Can you get to the bathroom?

Me: Nope. I've just been holding it until you come home. Which is a hint. That you should come home.

In case you were curious, I did eventually make it through the dark hallway to the light switch and then took care of things and had dinner started by the time he made it home. BUT, before we went to sleep I made him look under the bed and also in the closet. Also, there was a scary video on youtube that I had watched part of and wanted to know how it would end but I didn't want to watch it myself, so I made him watch it for me and tell me what happened.

And that's yet another reason why I love my husband.
So, yesterday, Captain called to let me know he was done with work and on his way home, as he does everyday because I get very paranoid about strange sounds at the door if I don't know someone is coming because I am just a very paranoid person in general.

Anyway, he called.

Me: What do you want for dinner?

Captain: Whatever is easiest for you to make.

Me: Ah, well... I can't go in the kitchen until you come home.

Captain: WHAT? Why? What happened?

Me: I was reading scary things. On the internet.

Captain: About the kitchen?

Me: No.

Captain: But the kitchen is scary now?

Me: Sort of? More specifically the hallway is dark between me and the kitchen. So I can't get to the kitchen until you come home and turn the light on.

Captain: Ohhhkay. That's fine. I'll turn the light on.

Me: Yay! Maybe I'll try to make it to the kitchen, but don't get your hopes up.

Captain: Fair enough. Can you get to the bathroom?

Me: Nope. I've just been holding it until you come home. Which is a hint. That you should come home.

In case you were curious, I did eventually make it through the dark hallway to the light switch and then took care of things and had dinner started by the time he made it home. BUT, before we went to sleep I made him look under the bed and also in the closet. Also, there was a scary video on youtube that I had watched part of and wanted to know how it would end but I didn't want to watch it myself, so I made him watch it for me and tell me what happened.

And that's yet another reason why I love my husband.
I just wanted to get some cheese fries at Chili's but nooooo, we had to stop at the phone store first.

And now we have a pair of very expensive, very annoying Sidekicks.

Also, we've only been under this contract for maybe eight hours and I've already had to call T-Mobile and be cranky because our "helpful" salesperson decided to remove our unlimited texts plan and replace it with... Nothing.

Also, when you have a data plan and your phone is synced to your email and your twitter and your facebook? You get a LOT of text messages. So I got that fixed, which added about twenty dollars a month to the contract that little Miss Annoying didn't factor in.

Still, it stopped Captain's whining about wanting a shiny new phone (MONTHS OF WHINING and then fake laughing when I glared at him and insisting he was only kidding haha, and then doing it AGAIN over and over) so that was almost worth the extra money every month. I tried to talk him into the cheaper smart phone option but no, he NEEDED a keyboard. At least he saw the death glare I sent his way when he started to reach for the super expensive one and quickly grabbed a different model to look at.

Also, because this is how we do things to be fair in my household, since Captain got a brand new shiny smart phone, Miss Miah got the exact same model (slightly different color) smart phone. And, I couldn't let him leave the store without a case and a screen cover thing because the man is HARD on phones. Also a car charger.

So that's a crap ton of money I wasn't expecting to spend today.

Anyway, Carolina RenFest tomorrow. We have voted no on wearing garb this time due to heat and comfort and also I didn't want to get up at five am to be laced into a corset and then sit in a car for three hours.

Will catch up on Friday's exchange postings this weekend.
I just wanted to get some cheese fries at Chili's but nooooo, we had to stop at the phone store first.

And now we have a pair of very expensive, very annoying Sidekicks.

Also, we've only been under this contract for maybe eight hours and I've already had to call T-Mobile and be cranky because our "helpful" salesperson decided to remove our unlimited texts plan and replace it with... Nothing.

Also, when you have a data plan and your phone is synced to your email and your twitter and your facebook? You get a LOT of text messages. So I got that fixed, which added about twenty dollars a month to the contract that little Miss Annoying didn't factor in.

Still, it stopped Captain's whining about wanting a shiny new phone (MONTHS OF WHINING and then fake laughing when I glared at him and insisting he was only kidding haha, and then doing it AGAIN over and over) so that was almost worth the extra money every month. I tried to talk him into the cheaper smart phone option but no, he NEEDED a keyboard. At least he saw the death glare I sent his way when he started to reach for the super expensive one and quickly grabbed a different model to look at.

Also, because this is how we do things to be fair in my household, since Captain got a brand new shiny smart phone, Miss Miah got the exact same model (slightly different color) smart phone. And, I couldn't let him leave the store without a case and a screen cover thing because the man is HARD on phones. Also a car charger.

So that's a crap ton of money I wasn't expecting to spend today.

Anyway, Carolina RenFest tomorrow. We have voted no on wearing garb this time due to heat and comfort and also I didn't want to get up at five am to be laced into a corset and then sit in a car for three hours.

Will catch up on Friday's exchange postings this weekend.
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