Wednesday, April 4, 2007

This is not a morose entry. 

It really isn't.  I have decided anything I write about my mother or father will be upbeat and celebrate their living instead of mourning them ahead of time. 

I called my mom before bedtime the other night to make sure everything was ok.  We chatted a bit, then she said - hold on!  i'll be right back.
 
So I held on.  I could hear her in the background.  She stepped on the puppy's foot, apparently, because it yelped and she was cooing to it, "Poor baby.  I'm sorry.  It's ok, it's ok."  Now, you should know, my mother does not like dogs.  Well, she does - but outside only.  But this one she particularly likes because it's so small.

So I waited for her to finsish comforting the dog.  In a bit, I heard her doing dishes.  She had forgotten she had me on the line.  I waited a few more minutes and decided, well, she'll have to hang up the phone.  I'll get her attention.  So I whistled.  Loudly.  Nothing.  I whistled again.  Nothing.  This went on for about 5 minutes, and finally, I shouted into the phone:   JAN!

And she shouted - WHAT??

PICK UP THE PHONE!

I have no clue whose shout she thought she was answering, but "phone" jogged her memory.  She said, You scared me!  I've been outside trying to find where that whistling was coming from!

She laughed, so I figured it was ok if I did, too.  It was funny, but not funny, if you know what I mean.

And now she wants to play bingo online with me, so I will close this. 

Monday, April 2, 2007

I think it might be time to schedule a doctor's appointment of my own.  I don't go for regular checkups, and only visit George (my PA) when I'm really sick or have fainted, gashed my head open and am concussed.  I'm not sick this time...

I am still every 21-days regular.  I've skipped 1 period without being pregnant once in all the years of menses, and that was maybe 2 years ago, but these mood swings are something else.  They hit so unexpectedly.  I'm fine, watching TV and then suddenly I'm crying over CSI Miami.  Or Monica will be in the office, explaining to me what delegating means and suddenly I snap - I KNOW what that means.

What happened to my patience?  What happened to my tact and aplomb?

It has to be the The Change.  It must be.  My hormones are out of whack - they have to be - because somewhere inside me there still resides this nice woman who is horrified by actions or words that are surely instigated by another creature that has inhabited her body.  I have not ruled out demonic possession.

And then I wonder, too, if biting my tongue all my life has made me mean.  I have swallowed a lot of words...I wonder if I'm simply fed up.

All I know for sure is, if I'm thinking it or feeling it, it's coming out, one way or the other, and I don't seem to be able to control it.  This is not a good thing, in some instances.  It has its advantages, though.  I'm not willing to take a lot of crap anymore,  and walking away from it has become a lot easier.  Don't even have to  feel angry about it.   When it's enough, I'm gone.

I looked up my gynecologist on the PPO's provider list today.  He's on it!  If anyone can get me through this, it will be the doctor who delivered my last baby, all the while singing Up Against the Wall You Redneck Mothers.  A Doc with a sense of humor couldn't hurt.