It’s cold. Not more than a week ago, it was over 60 degrees outside, yet this morning it was low single digit temps with below zero windchill. Thanks, global warming. You’re a real peach. At least it isn’t raining? Oh wait, that’ll happen Saturday.
I’ve already exhausted one tube of superglue to hold the cracks in my fingers together. The combo of cold weather and washing my hands more than once a day (while being allergic to most consumer hand soaps) means giant crags on tiny fingers.
My follow-up appointments weren’t particularly fun or particularly helpful. GI may have been if I were in a position to commit to two weeks in the hospital, and potentially 8 weeks of recovery if option A turned out to be a bust. It’s my wish to not lay eyes on a surgeon for a very long time or hear the words “gut rest” or “supplemental liquid diet”. As they say, you can wish in one hand and…you know the rest. Had I been able to start the IV Crohn’s poison in August like I was supposed to, who knows if things would currently be as gnarly as they are. One positive is that I seem to be on a good-for-me dosage of hydrocortisone now, as I’m slightly more tolerant of being vertical. Gravity is a cruel mistress, but there’s a pill for that.
MC is doing well. Every day is a little bit better and he’s feeling well enough that being housebound is driving him bonkers. He wants to go participate in big dumb manbeast shenanigans, but he’s trapped in his parent’s basement until week six. This is when he can jump in the driver’s seat and take off whenever he pleases. He wants to buy a motorcycle and I’m dying to tell Harpy the news so I can listen to her reaction, which is guaranteed to be hilarious. Only to me, of course. He already has two, so what’s another (other than multiple thousands of dollars we don’t have!)? His next appointment is after Christmas and with any luck, he’ll be released from care here in Ohio to return home and to work on light duty. We’ll finally be free of tyrannical family members.
I’ve got all of my Christmas gifts purchased and I’m on a deadline to finish a hat to go with the scarf I made for my Dad. Time is ticking away. I hate holidays. Yeah, I said it. I’m always relieved when they’re over.