I felt so good …
… that I didn’t feel like wasting time on the computer over the weekend.
Do you know the feeling of having been really sick for days, and then waking up one morning and not feeling sick? That feeling of “healthy never felt so good”? Well, that was me, Saturday morning. I woke up, and I didn’t cough first thing. I didn’t wheeze. I wasn’t nauseous. I didn’t have a headache. I even had some energy. Life just doesn’t get better than when you feel good and you know how good you feel.
Saturday I met my friend the Vet with Twenty Cats at a mall about an hour’s drive from here. I finished all the Christmas shopping for my sisters, and for The Socialist. Sunday I was able to fill in some gaps for The Socialist’s family, so I reallly only have two more of his relatives to buy for and I’m done for this year. I’ve been worried about having the energy to do all the seasonal erranding, so it’s a true relief to have this much completed. He swears he’ll help with the rest, but I’ll feel better when it’s done, even if I do it myself. The Socialist does get things done, but it’s usually according to his time frame, which runs closer to the Eastern Standard Procrastination time zone than mine does.
Saturday night The Socialist really wanted to try a Thai restaurant he’d discovered locally. I’ll admit I had my reservations. I loath lemon grass, and most of my experience with Thai cooking involves some incarnation of that stuff. I ordered the Siam Chicken there, and, true to the “I can’t believe how good I feel” day I was having, ate it as if I’d been starving for two weeks. Which was, actually, somewhat true, since I hadn’t been able to eat much more than a third of any meal set before me since I’d been sick. (Great weight loss regimen, I suppose, but it tends to make the doctors cranky when you see them.) Anyhow, I finished the chicken, all the while remarking on how wonderful it was (and “wonderful” is only pale praise to the manna that had been set before me). My appetite thus kick-jumped, I ordered a fried banana for desert. The Socialist watched all this with a bemused attitude, predicting I’d take two bites of my dessert and pronounce myself full. Many nights he’d have been correct, but Saturday I finished off the fried banana in honey with sesame seeds as well. I’d have licked the plate, but we were in a restaurant with witnesses.
Today I had my visit with the Big Downtown Cardiologist. You’d have to see this guy to know what I was talking about, but picture a Dr. Ken doll come to life, complete with plastic hair. I really mean it – his hair was so damned styled and polished that he could have gone out as Ken for Halloween and 1)wouldn’t have needed to even change his clothes and 2) everybody would have known exactly who he was masquarading as. I honestly had to fight a case of the giggles while he ausculted me and (after making remarks about my wheeze) pronounced me fit enough and said he didn’t need any further follow-ups. Fine by me. I avoid going downtown at all costs.
On a sadder note, I’ve just learned that two people I was hoping to meet up with sometime over the Thanksgiving holidays are probably not going to be able to cope with my cockamaymee schedule. I should have realized this weeks ago – I have to work all week except Thanksgiving day itself, and I have to work Saturday as well. I’m a bit bummed, but I know we’ll catch up to each other eventually, so all is still right with the world. The important thing is that Birdhouse Man and the Texan Elf have a good time with the time they have together this week. If they can report that their week was well spent to me, then I will be happy, and patient for another chance to catch up with them.