I hope you enjoyed the fruitcake recipe, and have now sobered up from it. I found it online, and posted it, adding "who likes fruitcake, anyway?" at the end. This way, I can now list myself as a co-writer of the piece and collect royalties. Beyoncé works the same way.
But let's go on to today, which is all about how plans can go to pieces very quickly.
Even though it was very late when I came home last night, I still woke up at about 6:30. Realizing that I was not going to be sleeping anymore, I got up, got myself together, and went to Tysons for walking. It was the first time since last Monday that I used my weights, and I felt it. But I got through it. One thing I did notice was that the left side of my face was feeling kind of sore and tender, but it didn't bother me too much, so I just let it go.
While I was walking, Justin called, sounding terrible. I told him that if he was feeling badly, don't go out of the house today; just rest. He asked me how cold it was; I told him that it was about twenty degrees, and that it would not get above thirty. He told me he would stay in. I think this was a good thing. He shouldn't have gone out yesterday, and now he felt worse. I hope he feels better soon, poor thing.
Once I was finished walking, it was only 10:30, and I was planning on being at my parents' at one. I went to Burger King for a soda (picking up a couple of donuts on the way there), but when I took that first swig of Diet Coke, I found it very difficult to swallow. I felt my face and discovered that it had swollen up considerably and gotten very warm, making half of my face look like a chipmunk. I went home and called my aunt, who is a nurse.
She basically told me: go see a doctor. She said that if I couldn't get in to see my regular doctor's office, I should find a walk-in emergency clinic. So I called my doctor's office. Naturally, they were completely booked up, but they told me that if I came in at two and waited, they would try to squeeze me in. So at 12:30, I got in my car and went out. The swelling had gone down somewhat, but it was still painful. By then I had called my parents and let them know that I had to go to the doctor.
I got to the doctor's office at about two, and sat down with a crossword puzzle book, which I had brought in anticipation of needing for three hours. Fortunately, they took me at about 2:35, when the crowded office miraculously cleared out.
I was taken for my vitals: my weight is up a little from where is was before, but still lower than it was at my last physical. My blood pressure is up a little, but it might have been due to being a little nervous. So I sat and waited.
The doctor (who is not my regular one), took a look at my throat, the swelling, and determined that I had the mumps. He said that I was probably not contagious, and that there wasn't anything I could do except for painkillers and patience.
I called and got Bette; she was amazed at the diagnosis, and the fact that I have the weirdest timing with childhood diseases: a tonsillectomy at the age of sixteen, chicken pox at twenty-four, and now mumps at the age of thirty-seven. My aunt's response? "Mumps? Oh God, you're going to be sterile." I decided not to ask her why I would need my sperm, since they are usually used to fertilize egg cells and make babies.
From the doctor's office I went to my parents' house, and we went for pizza soon after. I got a couple of nice gifts, and the pizza (and ice cream cake) were nice to have, especially since I didn't have to pay for either of them, or dinner last night.
I am really looking forward to holiday eating being over soon. I am ready for things to calm down and for me to get back to my old routines. I just hope I can remember what they are.
I am now very tired, and I want to go to bed, but this dingbat who is supposed to feed the cats in Julie's absence hasn't shown up and I promised I would call her if she didn't come by ten. So I wait.
Eric Out.
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