U Is For Ulcuscle

Today’s word is actually also an explanation for why I’m so far behind on the A-Z challenge.

Ulcuscle – noun, a small ulcer.

Which I, apparently, might have…although, not sure it’s a small one.

Here’s what happened:

Earlier in the week I was getting ready to go teach my evening class when I got a terrible, incapacitating pain in the middle of my chest/upper abdomen. It was like a gallstone attack, only worse. I started sweating, I couldn’t breathe…and I certainly couldn’t call Opie as this has happened twice before and he kept telling me to “GO TO THE DOCTOR!”

And I had put it off, saying “It’s probably nothing; it goes away after ten minutes or so.”

Which probably makes me sound like an idiot. 

But the truth is, I’m not an idiot, I’m a bit of a hypochondriac.

And, yes, I know that this is a condition that normally makes people run to the doctor’s office.

But I’m a hypochondriac who knows she’s a hypochondriac.  So, even when I have something serious going on, I assume I’m overreacting in hypochondriac fashion and put off going to the doctor until it’s the last possible choice.

So, when the incredible abdominal/chest pains lasted for over half an hour, I did what any sane, normal person would do…I called my mom.

“I’m in Illinois!” My mom reminded me. “I can’t do much from here.  You need to call your doctor!”

“But what if it’s something stupid like gas pains?” I protested. “Then I’ll feel like an idiot.”

Then she reminded me of what my dad always says in these situations, that there are a lot of people in the cemetery who didn’t want to feel stupid.

Which kind of put things in perspective.

So I was going to call my doctor but I couldn’t seem to find her direct line, only the scheduling line. Which meant I had to call Opie at work after all.

And since I’m always completely calm in the face of an emergency and since I was now convinced that I was dying, I very calmly shrieked that I was having some unexplained attack, that I was probably seconds from death and could he spare a few minutes to look up our doctor’s number before I collapsed unconscious on the floor?

I bet he looks back on all those years he was single and alone and just weeps thinking about how interminably dull his life was then.

Anyway, since he IS calm in the face of an emergency, he got the number, gave me the number and as soon as he hung up, began making arrangements to leave work and called the neighbors to get me some help until he got here.

In the meantime, I called the doctor’s office and explained things to the nurse who said “Kimberly, I’ll ask the doctor what to do…but if you’re having severe pain IN YOUR CHEST, we both know what she’s going to say.”

“Take an aspirin and lie down until it goes away?” I suggested.

Oddly, no, that’s not what she thought the doctor was going to say.  And she was right. The doctor said I needed to go to the Emergency Room IMMEDIATELY and get an EKG in case I was having a heart attack.

Though, in my defense, I was pretty sure it wasn’t a heart attack since if it had been some sort of cardiac event, I already would have been dead.

Wait, that doesn’t sound like a defense at all!

Anyway, everyone else apparently suspected all along that I needed to go to the ER as the neighbors were on their way over to drive me and Opie was already planning to meet me there, and my mom sounded not one bit surprised when I called her back.

Weird.

However, I would like to take this moment to point out that I was right, I wasn’t having a heart attack. The EKG was totally normal.

Which was relief largely because once they ruled out heart trouble they could give me the good drugs and the pain finally started to subside.

Unfortunately for Opie, I was still nestled in the sweet embrace of the dilaudid when he and my mom started a texting conversation and he mentioned to her that this has happened twice before.

“Don’t tell her that!” I yelled.  “Next thing you know I’ll be grounded and won’t be able to go to the big dance.”

I have the feeling I would make a very annoying drug addict.

Anyway, the most frustrating thing is that they still don’t know what’s wrong. All they know is what’s not wrong…no heart attack, no gallbladder attack (which I already knew since I had it removed a few years ago) and no kidney stones. 

Possibly a hiatal hernia, maybe liver trouble, most likely an ulcer that was causing stomach and/or diaphragm spasms…

“It can’t be an ulcer,” I said. “I’m too easy-going.”

“Stop saying that!” Opie said. “You are NOT easy-going. No one thinks you’re easy-going! I’m the calm one in this relationship--you freak out about everything!”

Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t know me at all.

In any case, I have an appointment with a GI specialist in 2 weeks…and I guess I have to go because when I suggested to Opie that in two weeks I’ll probably be totally fine and there was really no reason to waste everyone’s time, his head almost popped right off.

Which, pardon me for pointing out, just doesn’t seem easygoing at all.

A is for Absterge

I’m participating in the A-Z blog challenge for the first time ever.  If you want full details,click here, but the abbreviated version is that the challenge is to write a blog post every day of the week, except Sundays, and the posts need to correspond with a letter of the alphabet.

I work better with a theme so I picked vocabulary—each day I would learn a new vocabulary word and try to come up with a brief (always a challenge) post about it.

Which took me forever because then I got all into reading long lists of words and saying “Hey, I didn’t know there was a word for that!”

Like abacinate. Which means to blind by putting a red hot metal near the eyes. Who knew we needed a word for that particular practice? I didn’t even know that was a thing. I didn’t even know you could blind someone in that fashion. I mean, it says NEAR the eye. How near are we talking? How close do you have to get to the eyeball with hot metal to blind someone.

Honestly, considering my issues with eyes, I’m getting a little sick just thinking about it.

So, after working my way through list after list, almost feeling a sense of aboulomania (pathological inability to make a decision), I decided on absterge.

Absterge – A verb, to wipe clean; expunge; purge.

And the last time I really had to absterge was when Opie and I were engaged and we were combining our households as I moved to Oklahoma.

At which point, I made the insane decision to have a garage sale.

Which may not sound like an insane decision…if, perhaps, you have never had a garage sale or seen the kind of people who frequent garage sales.

I mean I go to garage sales and I'm fairly normal but apparently I am in the minority (or maybe I'm not as normal as I think.)

I'm talking about people like the woman showed up at my house at 9:45 PM the night before the sale said she'd seen a sign on the corner and was wondering if she could get come in and "get an early peek at the merchandise."

"No," I said.

“Why not?” she demanded, edging closer and closer to the front door like she was trying to get me to back away.

“Because I you don't even know you,” I said. “And I'm generally opposed to letting strangers come into my house and go through my things.”

And she got really offended. I mean not so offended that she didn’t stand there saying “Oh come on, please” three or four more times. And not so offended that she didn’t show up ten minutes before I opened the garage door the next morning, knocking again on the front door and asking again to come in early.

Then she started pointing at things that were CLEARLY marked Not For Sale and saying “What about that? I’ll give you a dollar for that.”

And it was only because I had two friends with me and we’d fortified ourselves with mimosas for just such a situation that I managed not to throw caution to the winds and punch that woman in the face.

She was the worst of the lunatics but not the only lunatic.  We had a couple of would be shoplifters, a lot of people who tried to bargain down from a quarter, a couple of realtors who thought this would be the perfect moment to aggressively try to convince me to list with them when I moved...basically, even though we got rid of a lot of stuff and made a little cash, it was a lot more trouble than it was worth.

So, the next time I need to absterge the house, I think we’ll just take everything to Goodwill.

Stay tuned for more letter related posts!