Thriving civilizations, destroyed by Clorox!
Thursday, August 27th, 2009 09:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntbijouI have discovered yet another of the consequences of my "lost summer."
I spent a good twenty minutes hauling multiple plastic containers out of my fridge and seriously grossing out over their contents before tossing them into the garbage. YUCK!!! Several of them seemed to have burgeoning populations of possible intelligence, because I swear some of them waved at me just before I chucked them in the trash. And I'm not even sure what half of the food was (I'm not sure I want to know, to tell you the truth!), because most of it was unlabeled, though I was rather horrified to discover a few that did have names and dates written across the top, by me back in June!.
*shudders*
Poor THO, trying so hard to keep up with everything while I was incapacitated. Though even when I'm my usual bouncy self, he doesn't label the leftovers before they go into the fridge. And he teases me about my habit of doing that, though he refuses to eat anything in a container that isn't labeled. Which might explain the amount of containers with nasty science experiments in my fridge!
See, a couple of years ago, I got tired of pulling out plastic containers of food in the fridge and having to go to THO and say, "What is this? How old is this? I mean, when did it go in the fridge/we last have this, etc, etc." And I also got tired of say, heating up a container of what I thought was spaghetti sauce for lunch, dumping it over freshly cooked noodles, and then discovering that it was Slow Jalopy (Sloppy Joe) sauce. Not bad, but a pretty nasty shock when you're expecting spaghetti sauce!
I had discovered by accident (because of the kids) that dry erase marker on plastic containers rubs off easily. So, I started keeping a dry erase marker in the cabinet, and every time I put away leftovers from dinner (or lunch), I slap the top on, then write something like, "Slow Jalopy, 08-25-09" on it, then pop it in the fridge. No more mystery, no more sniffing dubious contents and trying to guess what it is and if it's still edible.
The few tummy troubles we've ever had greatly decreased after I started doing that!
And though THO teases me about it mercilessly sometimes, saying I'm being all anal about it, or very obsessive compulsive... he refuses to eat anything that isn't labeled. *rolls eyes* This drives me nuts, as he refuses to label anything!!
In other news, I saw the doctor yesterday for my face to face. The node in my lung? Turns out it's on the right side, not the left. It might be scarring from the bouts of pneumonia I've gone through over the last three years, but they're not sure. What bothered my doctor, and she showed me the lab sheet, was that the radiologist who read the CT recommended I get another scan... in one to two years!! She said she wasn't comfortable with that, and wanted me to go in six months. The nodule is only half a centimeter now. If it's still half a centimeter in six months, very likely it's scar tissue. If not, well, we'll deal with that when it comes.
However, when I asked the results of the rest of my lab work, she blinked and went through my file, then said, "What lab work?" Then, before I could say anything, she went back to the day she'd ordered the CT scan and frowned. "Wait... where's the paperwork for your bloodwork?"
She had to hunt down the flaky nurse who had called me and make her look for it, then came back muttering under her breath about "three strikes being fucking over," and "that's it, no more," before she sat down and started looking it over. And then she boggled and said, "When did you last see the endocrinologist?"
"May," I said.
So she went to look at his report, and her boggle got bigger, and she frowned, and said, "Your TSH(thyroid stimulating hormone) was at 3.0 in May, which was a little high, but you were doing so well that he decided to keep it there. However, two weeks ago, your TSH dropped. Dramatically." And she pointed at it.
And I boggled. Because it said, "0.1."
What does that mean? It means... too much thyroid hormone, meaning something wonky is going on with my thyroid... again.
So, she decreased the dosage of my medication, and I am going to call the endocrinologist to get in A.S.A.P. to see what needs to be done.
Because I'm telling you, I am so friggin' tired of this. I mean, Tuesday, I went grocery shopping, and it was a big shop because, well, I've been sick and unable to do it all summer, right? So, I was basically playing catch-up, and went fully intending to do my usual lightning fast grocery shop. I had my list, I know where everything is in the store, no kids with me to slow me down, it's very much veni, vidi, vici, grocery-style!
But Tuesday... not so much. Tuesday, what usually takes me an hour and a half, tops, took me... nearly three hours. I barely had enough time when I was done to run home, throw all the cold stuff in the fridge, and race to pick up the kids. As it was, I was ten minutes late to pick up the Impossible Son, which upset him greatly. Not because he didn't think I was coming, because he knows I will always come get him, but because I hadn't called the school to send him a message about it. Which I always do if I am running late for any reason.
At least I had him and Miss Priss to help me put the rest of the groceries away after!
The irony in all this is that the Asthma Monster has been abnormally quiet since the near pneumonia in June, knock on wood, and on that front... I'm doing great! And my heart's been behaving well, too, which is... unusual, but hey, I'll roll with it! Now if we can just get the rest of me to cooperate, things will be just peachy!!
I spent a good twenty minutes hauling multiple plastic containers out of my fridge and seriously grossing out over their contents before tossing them into the garbage. YUCK!!! Several of them seemed to have burgeoning populations of possible intelligence, because I swear some of them waved at me just before I chucked them in the trash. And I'm not even sure what half of the food was (I'm not sure I want to know, to tell you the truth!), because most of it was unlabeled, though I was rather horrified to discover a few that did have names and dates written across the top, by me back in June!.
*shudders*
Poor THO, trying so hard to keep up with everything while I was incapacitated. Though even when I'm my usual bouncy self, he doesn't label the leftovers before they go into the fridge. And he teases me about my habit of doing that, though he refuses to eat anything in a container that isn't labeled. Which might explain the amount of containers with nasty science experiments in my fridge!
See, a couple of years ago, I got tired of pulling out plastic containers of food in the fridge and having to go to THO and say, "What is this? How old is this? I mean, when did it go in the fridge/we last have this, etc, etc." And I also got tired of say, heating up a container of what I thought was spaghetti sauce for lunch, dumping it over freshly cooked noodles, and then discovering that it was Slow Jalopy (Sloppy Joe) sauce. Not bad, but a pretty nasty shock when you're expecting spaghetti sauce!
I had discovered by accident (because of the kids) that dry erase marker on plastic containers rubs off easily. So, I started keeping a dry erase marker in the cabinet, and every time I put away leftovers from dinner (or lunch), I slap the top on, then write something like, "Slow Jalopy, 08-25-09" on it, then pop it in the fridge. No more mystery, no more sniffing dubious contents and trying to guess what it is and if it's still edible.
The few tummy troubles we've ever had greatly decreased after I started doing that!
And though THO teases me about it mercilessly sometimes, saying I'm being all anal about it, or very obsessive compulsive... he refuses to eat anything that isn't labeled. *rolls eyes* This drives me nuts, as he refuses to label anything!!
In other news, I saw the doctor yesterday for my face to face. The node in my lung? Turns out it's on the right side, not the left. It might be scarring from the bouts of pneumonia I've gone through over the last three years, but they're not sure. What bothered my doctor, and she showed me the lab sheet, was that the radiologist who read the CT recommended I get another scan... in one to two years!! She said she wasn't comfortable with that, and wanted me to go in six months. The nodule is only half a centimeter now. If it's still half a centimeter in six months, very likely it's scar tissue. If not, well, we'll deal with that when it comes.
However, when I asked the results of the rest of my lab work, she blinked and went through my file, then said, "What lab work?" Then, before I could say anything, she went back to the day she'd ordered the CT scan and frowned. "Wait... where's the paperwork for your bloodwork?"
She had to hunt down the flaky nurse who had called me and make her look for it, then came back muttering under her breath about "three strikes being fucking over," and "that's it, no more," before she sat down and started looking it over. And then she boggled and said, "When did you last see the endocrinologist?"
"May," I said.
So she went to look at his report, and her boggle got bigger, and she frowned, and said, "Your TSH(thyroid stimulating hormone) was at 3.0 in May, which was a little high, but you were doing so well that he decided to keep it there. However, two weeks ago, your TSH dropped. Dramatically." And she pointed at it.
And I boggled. Because it said, "0.1."
What does that mean? It means... too much thyroid hormone, meaning something wonky is going on with my thyroid... again.
So, she decreased the dosage of my medication, and I am going to call the endocrinologist to get in A.S.A.P. to see what needs to be done.
Because I'm telling you, I am so friggin' tired of this. I mean, Tuesday, I went grocery shopping, and it was a big shop because, well, I've been sick and unable to do it all summer, right? So, I was basically playing catch-up, and went fully intending to do my usual lightning fast grocery shop. I had my list, I know where everything is in the store, no kids with me to slow me down, it's very much veni, vidi, vici, grocery-style!
But Tuesday... not so much. Tuesday, what usually takes me an hour and a half, tops, took me... nearly three hours. I barely had enough time when I was done to run home, throw all the cold stuff in the fridge, and race to pick up the kids. As it was, I was ten minutes late to pick up the Impossible Son, which upset him greatly. Not because he didn't think I was coming, because he knows I will always come get him, but because I hadn't called the school to send him a message about it. Which I always do if I am running late for any reason.
At least I had him and Miss Priss to help me put the rest of the groceries away after!
The irony in all this is that the Asthma Monster has been abnormally quiet since the near pneumonia in June, knock on wood, and on that front... I'm doing great! And my heart's been behaving well, too, which is... unusual, but hey, I'll roll with it! Now if we can just get the rest of me to cooperate, things will be just peachy!!
