I’ve survived my first two weeks with family, go me! Dad had his teeth pulled yesterday, and boy is he ever in a world of hurt. I feel so bad for him. Oral surgery is the worst, especially when you’re a food addict. He hates going to the dentist, and rather than dumping more money into crowns and repair, he opted for dentures. I’ve been flexing my shakemaster muscles, and making lots of smoothies for him. I’ll be doing some soups this weekend, pumpkin and split pea. If he doesn’t like them, that’s less food I have to make for myself.
My doctor called on Monday in a panic because I was supposed to call him to report my at home orthostatic vitals, but like everything else it sort of slipped my mind. It wasn’t the HR log he was concerned about, it was my UA results from 2 days before I left. I’m dumping massive amounts of protein, blood and cell casts, in spite of barely getting adequate amounts of protein. It’s probably an IgA flare (thanks Spring…I fucking hate you), which means nothing other than hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Since I didn’t get a metabolic panel checked at my last appointment, he wants me to get a ride aaaall the way to Dayton to fulfill a lab order he put in. Ya know what? I’m not playing this game.
Neither of my parents are in any shape to make that drive, and I’m not interested in finding out that my amazing recovery was undone by a stupid cold or allergies, or whatever has me snorging like a little piggy. I left my desmopressin at home by accident and I’m currently being exsanguinated by a very pissed off uterus, so I may have to go to urgent care anyhow if it doesn’t let up soon. They can do a cmp then if they feel it’s prudent. It would be stupid of me to withhold vital health information just so I can remain ignorant.