escapade © Laura Kicey
Meanwhile, back in the land where I am just slightly ill rather than completely dead for crimes I didn't commit, I went to the doctor today. My specialist. And it turns out that the health epiphany (which I am too lazy to link to) was pretty much on the money. However to clear up the mystery of where it stems from exactly, so as to make it operable, I need to first undergo an Exam Under Anaesthesia. As exam while conscious this afternoon made me shriek and contort in an unhelpful manner. I feel rather odd having been handed the health answer by my mother, an LPN, who never even examined me. What does this say about my doctor? I mean I think self-diagnosing is creepy, but if your doctor can't be bothered to figure out what is wrong with you what choices are there?
underwritten © Laura Kicey
After lurking about the hospital for almost 2 hours in varying states of undress, I rolled on home and the little cold I've been nursing since yesterday let loose a spike of fever and I got chills I couldn't shake for an hour. But I am feeling much better now. So much so that I have promised Mr. The Dust and myself that we are going to Land of Infinite Amusement tomorrow. I will go wall shopping amidst cotton candy feasts, and tea cup whirl abouts. If ALF doesn't bleed me dry first.