Well, we’re back at home now. We rode a farty footy bus home and arrived at 3 am to find our electricity shut off. Instantly I thought of one thing: my fridge. See, while we were in the Big City, we cleaned out our friends’ fridge. They are on a trip to the States and someone shut off their electricity (we think it was a well-meaning neighbor who wanted to keep them from having a bill this month). Imagine this: all of the stuff in your fridge or freezer with no fridging or freezing for two or three weeks. Gross. Fuzzy. Stinky. Nasty. All of us cleaning would frequently dart out of the kitchen to have a “calm down – I can’t puke – I gotta think about something else – what about bunnies – yeah, I’ll ponder bunnies” moment.
I’m not sure if all of our things are at a loss, yet. I didn’t open either the fridge or freezer. We went to sleep (it was 3 am, after all!) and I just left it alone this morning. I went to pottery class instead. We’re about to return home and hopefully the electricity will be back on then. And, hopefully it hasn’t been off too long. And hopefully my irreplaceable miracle whip, pickle relish, ham stock, apple and pineapple jelly, horseradish, velveeta, cheddar cheese, and bacon haven’t been ruined. If they’re on the verge, but haven’t pitched over the cliff of ruination yet, I’m going to eat it all tonight. Hey, you do what you gotta do.
In other news, all’s fine with Tyrone. Apparently my thyroid is under-performing, but not by much. So, we’ll just check it out again in 6 months. My doctor was a very nice man and very well trained, but his English wasn’t perfect. Sure, he knew all the words related to the thyroid and every possible disorder, and he was capable of communicating fine, but sometimes he said things the way a native never would. (For instance, instead of asking me if my hair is falling out, he asked me if my hair is spilling. Fortunatly, I knew what he was asking.) Well, in telling me that my problem was small, he mixed up might, maybe, and slight. What resulted was him telling me that I have a mighty, mighty thyroid with a mighty, mighty problem. From his hand motions and the rest of the conversation, I realized what he meant.
But, during the rest of the consulation I had to work hard to keep the images of Mighty Mouse out of my head. Or, the images of Mighty Tyrone flying around the room. But, then Brick House by Lionel Richie and the Commodores came in my head. You know, it’s the one where he says “Awww! She’s a Brick House! She’s mighty, mighty… letting it all hang out!” My favorite line of that song is the one where he sings “Yeah, she’s the one, the only one, Built like an Amazon!” I think this song joins “Baby Got Back” as the only song where a man glories in his non-waif girl. For this reason, I can dig it.
But, back to Mighty, Mighty Tyrone… I’m a bit bummed about this diagnosis. Yeah, my levels aren’t high enough to treat, but I’m still experiencing the effects of a low-performing thyroid. I guess it’s not enough. I guess the magic numbers have to dip to a certain point for them to do anything. So, until then, I’ll deal with my mighty, mighty tendency to get tired easily; my mighty, mighty ability to rapidly gain weight; my mighty, mighty dry skin; my mighty, mighty spilling hair; my mighty-mighty tendency to forget things; and all the other stuff associated with low-performing thyroid glands. I guess if I walk in his office in 6 months half-asleep, morbidly overweight, skin peeling, and bald, he’ll have some great treatments for me then. That is, if I don’t forget the appointment.
Now, mab, you’re getting a hair sarcastic right there, aren’t you? Yes, you are.
I’m really not disgruntled with the doctor. He was a nice man. And, I do think he’s capable. I guess I was really looking for an excuse. If Tyrone is the cause of all of this, then the days I am really tired and don’t want to get off the couch, I can blame him instead of laziness. And, the times I can’t button my pants, I can blame Tyrone instead of the second piece of pie I ate last night. However, the doc basically said Tyrone is off the hook. I can’t blame Cicero anymore since we got rid of him. I gotta find someone else to blame.
I hear you all out there! I hear you telling me to take responsiblility for myself and not to blame anyone/thing. That’s just crazy talk! Now, back to the topic at hand: I’ve decided to blame everything on my brother. It’s worked fine for 28 years, why stop now. Sorry, Bubbie. That’s what you get for not letting me play with the Nintendo that I paid half of. (Not that I’m bitter or anything. But if I am, it’s my brother’s fault.)
“Shake it down, shake it down, shake it down, now!”