Monday, April 20, 2009

Dizzy test #1

Lots of rain. Jeff is taking me (2:30) to get the dizzy tests. I hope I am not too sick like the last time. I think they have to try and make me sick to see what I have, but it's almost medieval, the way they go about this stuff even though it includes electrodes and machines hooked up to my head. Actually, maybe it's more Mary Shelley than anything else.

The worst part is waiting in that musty old hallway in that antique building. It's a fantastic old house on Pine street that has been virtually untouched except for the crappy wrinkling carpeting, since the 1800's. That's how long it has been an ENT office, and frankly, the woodwork could use some cleaning.

Anyway, the doctor is supposed to be the best in the country, but he is eccentric as hell.
If he's good enough for Julie Andrews , I suppose he's good enough for me.

The thing is, there is a lot of waiting. You might think that if they were running 3 hours late,they might tell you, but no, they would just as soon have you waiting in the hallway for 3 hours until you are all worked up.

The other thing is: the girl who gives the tests is this pretty red haired Russian woman who has incredible B.O.

It's bad enough being made dizzy, but to have to smell her in a small room in the basement with cold air coming in through the door to the outside is just hell.

You think I'm over sensitive?

Yes I am.

Still, I think I am entitled to my opinons.

Male Dilemma

I have to do a lot of mailing stuff at my job, I kind of enjoy wrapping unwieldy items that are larger than my whole body and getting them out in the world.

Last month I mailed 7 Murano chandeliers to Dubai and did not break one piece of glass which was totally amazing. It makes me even more suspicious of the woman on ebay who sent me a picture of a broken kitchen bowl I sent her. She would have had to hit it with a hammer to break that thing, but that's a different story.

I found out the hard way, that you cannot mail a floor lamp in one piece. I did it twice and they broke both of them beyond redemption. (especially the 1920's glass parts that were triple bubble wrapped and then tubed and then wrapped again.) How they broke that stuff is just crazy. I did notice the forklift holes in the sides of the box when it was returned to me. What that tells me is, if it is not square, don't try to mail, UPS, or FEDEX it.

You can go to and make mailing labels and have your stuff picked up right at your house. Unfortunately, they do not include the cheaper mailing options as media mail, first class, or parcel post on that site. I asked at the post office and they all played dumb.

Imagine a bunch of butch guys in those bad uniforms with bad haircuts (really, I am going to have to do some serious investigation on why postal employees have bad haircuts. Maybe that's what makes them go "postal", they hate their hair!!) Anyway, imagine these guys shrugging and perhaps fooling with their name tags, and denying any knowledge of what is on their web pages.

There is something wrong with that, but I suppose those guys never have to mail anything that does not fit in an envelope.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Ear, nose and throat.

Went to the nose and thyroid guy and he says "didn't anyone tell you to have a needle aspiration?" And of course, I said no, even though the last time someone did a thryoid scan they stuck the needle in right there, without so much as a "by your leave".

Actually that guy did me a favor because now they want some more blood MORE BLOOD) from me and then the needle aspiration.

So then he sprays some decongestant/anesthtic up my nose and it goes down my throat and I start to panic because my throat is getting numb, and he is all "what's all the anxiety about"? as he opens my nose with a pair of pliers to a size just this side of a golf ball and says "put your head down and relax" as he is pulling up and out. OUCH OUCH OUCH. Let's see YOU relax with a numb throat and a nose full of pliers.

By that time, I am in full hysteria. OK, I'm a hypochondriac, but I really have a problem. Multiple problems, and this guy is so; ho-hum, I've seen a lot worse, like that matters to me.

So then he asks why I am so full of anxiety. You are just radiating anxiety there (in the chair that my feet don't touch the foot bar of). That's no way to live! He's telling me, and I already know this for a fact, that I do not care for the unbidden anxiety.

This sends me toward tears, but I don't bust out and cry, I just mumble some stuff about something.

Then he asks me if I exercise. Well, I spent the whole day digging in the yard, but perhaps that is not what he means, and as I do not spend every day lifting and hauling and digging I say no. He recommends that I walk a mile a day, which is not out of the question if my balance were not compromised as it so often is. I will do it, but not if the temperature is below 50. That's for someone healthy. No arguments here please.

I mention that I used to dance, and he actually says "tsk, tsk, it's even worse for someone who used to be active" Thanks, Doc. I said "You are tsk-ing me?" I cannot believe there is anyone left in the world who does that. He is India Indian but quite Americanized except for his lack of empathy and the tsking. I still cannot believe the tsk.

Another wonder recommendation is to use a neti pot 3 times a day. It is a small flower watering can or genie lamp that one pours salt water through one's sinuses with. It's not terribly pleasant for me, but it looks like that's a given. I mixed the solution up, (it has Karo syrup in it! who knew that a doctor would require me to stick corn syrup up my nose?) wishing I could warm it gently somehow without trudging downstairs to the kitchen, and yep, it still burns in my head. My whole head starts to tingle especially in the back of my brain section. It's like ice cream brain freeze with a kick. That's one thing about old age: way too much maintenance. I just did not need another routine to make it more difficult to get out of the house in the morning.

By the time I am 80, should I make it, I will have to stay up all night just to get in all the irrigation, brushing, flossing, slathering of extremities, grooming, makeup, wardrobe, inhalations and a million pills flushed down my throat.

Now it turns out that the tests they want have to be done at inconvenient hospitals and that for no reason I can fathom, they have to make the appointments for me. I can schedule an MRI for a brain tumor, but not anything on the thyroid. One more thing I must endure, only before, when they wanted 20 tests done, I wished they would schedule them for me. I managed that, and suddenly I am annoyed that they will do something for me. Obviously all this nose action has me in a tizzy.

Now I am typing while breaking in some new red shoes from Target. They are the only store that carries shoes in my size. They have some swell designer knock offs that are Palm Beach Tacky but the smallest size is one bigger than my feet. I may try them anyway. That will make me feel better.

I am also cooking a brisket. I was going off meat, but Martha had this recipe, and I do love some brisket. I put the wine in but I am used to a recipe with soy sauce. This had better not be a disaster.