I don’t feel good.  Neither does Lily.  So she’s watching Aquamarine for the 30th time and I’m here, whining.  Julianna thought she was falling to the bug, but rallied.  Ben has forgotten that he was ever ill and is short with those of us who are feeling a bit yucky.  Us meaning Lily.  Crap night of sleep.  I turned in early and was out cold by 10.  I was awakened around 11:30 by cries of “MOMMY!  MOMMY I’m all wet!!!”  Thought “crap, Lily barfed.” and leapt out of bed and ran up stairs to find Lily emerging from the bathroom with a slightly bewildered expression like “what?  I was just peeing,” and she headed back to bed.  Realized it was Ben doing the screaming, went over, found him asleep again, and dry.  He used to wake up screaming all the time.  I didn’t realize how little I missed it.  That adrenaline rush that propels you from prone to upstairs in less time than it usually takes you to sit up in bed takes a while to subside.

Then I kept waking up, roasting.  I’d throw off the covers, freeze, cover up, roast, repeat.  over and over.  Broken up only by Evil Sleep Brain saying “Remember how Bev said that the first thing the oncologist asked her was ‘Do you get night sweats?’  Yeah.  Thought you did.”  And Let’s All Just Get Some Sleep Brain would say, weakly, “But it can also be a sign of underlying infection or hormone imbalance.  Or a flannel duvet cover.”  But Evil Sleep Brain had done its work.  So the pattern was roast, throw off covers, panic, doze, freeze, cover up, roast, repeat. Not restful.  ESB was given a toe hold b/c of my low-lying (and generally ignored with my mad denial skillz) worry about whatever is going on with my eyes.  

For a while now, I’ve been getting weird sensations in my eyes–it feels like I can’t quite control them.  From the outside, no one can see anything, but to me it feels like I’m barely able to keep them from rolling around in my head.  Last summer I saw the optometrist–nothing.  The GP–nothing.  The opthamologist–nothing.  And then it kind of went away for a bit, so yay.  But as of fall it was back and driving me bananas.  Went to see a neurologist yesterday.  I really liked him as he shared my taste in books which proves he’s a smart guy.  We shared our love of audio books and our favorite readers.  He confessed that he downloads them illegally (which he said while wiping his hand across his mouth in that jokey “I didn’t really say that” way).  As he took my bp he said, “So, what does your husband do?”  “He’s in intellectual property law.”  beat. “Nah, not really.”  relief.    He poked and prodded and made me walk around on my tip-toes and do math problems (I assured him that I’ve always been likely to screw that up).  Then he had me look up down up down up down many time without blinking and said “Ah HA! Your eyes are misaligned!”  I expressed relief that there was actually something visible going on and it wasn’t just my imagination.  He said, “Well, you’re patting me on the back here, but I have no idea what it is.”  So I get to have an MRI.  Which I’m sure will just be FINE!  FUN!  Not at all leading to body part explosions or heart failure! I was supposed to go today, but Lily is home sick and, well, I’m not so great myself.  So I’ll try again tomorrow morning.  And will meet with the neurologist next Friday–couldn’t meet earlier because I’m–gulp–getting my wisdom teeth out on Monday.*

And my good friend Bev has just found out she has follicular lymphoma.  So really, it’s a wonder I EVER sleep and a testament to the aforementioned denial skillz that I’m not on the floor in a panic attack.  Because let me tell you, it didn’t take long for the relief that the doc actually saw my eyes misbehaving to give way to the realization that that means something IS wrong.  And there’s a whoooole lot of somethings it could be.  I’m going to assume it’s “you don’t eat enough cookies” and stay away from the Google.

*Attention all you people who have wisdom teeth.  Apparently, the older you are when you get them out, the “trickier” it becomes.  Did anyone tell me this in the last 20 years?  No.  I thought it was just a matter of hoping the tooth (which is impacted) didn’t get oogy and then break when being extracted.  Oh no, the various dangers–poking through into your sinus cavity, zapping the nerve in your lower jaw–all become greater as you age.   So go get them out.  pronto.

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