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I'm not dead yet Random Shit Screw This They're trying to kill me

Jamie Oliver mocked me and lost

It is not wise to fuck with me when I am operating on less than optimal sleep. Or no sleep. Yesterday was one of those days. Tuesday night insomnia struck once again and at 9am, still up, and almost zombiefied (is that even a word? if not, I just decided that it should be) I flipped on the TV and turned to an episode of Jamie Oliver’s 30 Minute Meals. I generally like to cook and figured if I’m not getting any sleep, the least I could do is glean some menu ideas for the week, right? What’s the worst that could happen?

You have no idea.

It got all kinds of stabby up in here.

The episode I happened to catch was this one. God help me, I love a good dauphinoise. And mustard chicken. And chard. And it appeared to be a gluten free meal apart from the dessert. Fuck yeah. All is well until Jamie says in that sassy British accent of his…

I don’t care if you don’t like anchovies. Rip ’em up and toss ’em in there. They melt into this salty flavor and you’ll never know they’re in there.

At which point I wanted to stab him in the face. Repeatedly.

Jamie

For your information, Jamie, I am allergic to anchovies. You should fucking care if they are in my dauphinoise. Because if I eat it and there are anchovies, it will Fucking.Kill.Me.

Are you trying to kill me, Jamie? Hmmm? What did I ever do to you? Answer me! What.Did.I.DO?

So guess what Mr. Oliver? I made your damn dauphinoise. Without anchovies. And you wanna know something?

It was amazing.

And I didn’t die. I WIN! In.Your.FACE. Jamie Oliver.

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I'm not dead yet Random Shit Screw This They're trying to kill me Wellness

This shit’s for the birds

I’m interrupting my 30 Days of Truth to talk about my health for a bit. Sorry. Boring stuff, I know.

Last week I had a blood draw. Monday I went to pick up the results. Turns out there is good news and bad news. The good news is, my meds seem to be helping some, as my TSH levels are now less than half of what they were on my pre-diagnosis labs. I still need it to go a bit lower so we’ve upped my dosage a bit to achieve that goal. The bad news is that my triglycerides have soared and are almost double what they were before. I’m too young to have cholesterol problems!! Now I’m drinking green tea, which is purported to help with triglycerides, but without sweetener or sugar it tastes like ass. I can’t get stevia here because it’s banned, which is fucking retarded but whatever.

And because I missed 2 days of meds due to running out before I could get a refill script… I gained SIX FUCKING POUNDS. SIX. I am now the highest weight I have ever been, and outweigh my dog, which is crazy. I’m pretty fucking depressed about it and have resorted to eating salads for every meal except breakfast. My doctor referred me to a nutritionist, but the initial consult is pricey and I’d have to take money out of my service dog fund to pay for it and I’m not willing to do that so….. salad it is.

Tomorrow I’m back to the regularly scheduled programming of 30 Days of Truth.

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Bizarre Decisions I'm not dead yet Random Shit Screw This They're trying to kill me Wellness

Stupid vampire nurses

So today (well technically yesterday since it’s now 4am the next morning but since I still haven’t gone to bed yet it totally counts as today, right? RIGHT?) I had to go in for a blood draw to see if my thyroid meds are helping any (hint: not). My appointment was for 9am… got there 15 minutes early. After about 45 minutes I asked the lab tech if she had perhaps called my name and I was lost in space or thinking about devouring a cow because since you have to go fasting and I was starving and dizzy and dear god all I want is some cinnamon toast I was getting a little testy. She said no, and that she would call me.

Another half hour passed and I was the last one left in the waiting room so I asked again because maybe she’s a bit on the slow side and well, I’m extremely sympathetic toward the intellectually challenged especially before breakfast but she was sipping a coffee and I secretly hoped she would burn her esophagus on it and she was all UGH LET ME LOOK and I was *blink – the fuck?* and then she was all “Oops we lost your paperwork but that’s ok, we’ll just do up another form but I have to consult with your doctor first to see what tests he ordered” and I’m again *blink – bish, I have the paperwork RIGHT HERE* and then she left me standing there while she went off to ask the doc to fill it out again.

And then they stabbed me in the arm and drank drew my blood. And my veins didn’t even collapse this time which was nice.

But now I have to wait a week to get the results and? how much you wanna bet they LOSE THOSE TOO, FUCKERS?!

In other news, my service dog had a lump which ok, technically she still has it because the awesome vet said it was just a harmless cyst and the risk of anesthesia is worse at her age than the actual cyst so we left it there and dubbed it her “Lady Lumps” which apparently nobody finds funny but me. And I called the hubs to tell him about it and….

Me: So it’s just a harmless cyst.

Him: Can’t you remove it?

Me: Sure but it’s really no big deal, it’s a cosmetic issue and not a tumor or anything bad so we might as well just leave it.

Him: But if it can be removed, we should really schedule an appointment.

Me: *blink* Um…. tightwad honey, the risk of anesthesia at that age is just too high for a simple harmless cyst.

Him: Don’t be absurd, let’s remove it.

Me: But the anesthesia ALONE is gonna cost an arm and a leg

Him: You mean they CHARGE for that? How much?

Me: Around $150

Him: WHAT?

Me: Well honey they charge by the weight of the dog

Him: What does the dog have to do….. oh wait, are we talking about Karma [my service dog]?

Me: DUH. What the fuck did you THINK I was talking about?

Him: Didn’t you say last week that they thought you had thyroid cancer and you went today to get bloodwork done?

Me: *beyond blinking at this point* Um… that would be the fastest labwork on the planet and besides, labwork isn’t gonna tell the docs if I have a lump in my neck, that’s what the MRI is for.

Him: Oh. OK.

Yeah. Disturbing isn’t it?

And in more exciting news – I’m getting my replacement (well ok not really replacement, more like successor) service dog a bit earlier than originally planned (well, assuming there’s a suitable male born in the litter). Just have to work out the logistics in getting him here and fingers crossed that the litter isn’t all girls. If all goes well, I’ll introduce you to him in March!