Another One Down
In the spirit of good health, I had another doctor’s appointment today. This time it was for the creeping crud that has taken over my fingers and hand. It’s a nasty, itchy, weepy rash that makes things like washing my hands incredibly painful. It’s important to wash your hands after changing diapers and before breastfeeding–especially if you change that diaper right before breastfeeding.
I got to the office a bit early so I could fill out the paperwork and proceeded to wait and wait and wait some more. The office was hot and I was getting cranky from being overheated. They even opened the door to get some air in, so I know it wasn’t just me.
Finally I got to go to the back, though I was very unhappy when they weighed me. Ugh. I hate being weighed. Operation: Fat Banishment has not really had any good effect yet, so I am going to go eat some worms and cry.
During my wait in the waiting room I thought I spied the doctor. She was a woman with harsh make-up in a kind of “older tramp” style with fancy clothes. She kept coming out and talking to the girls at the desk, but they were speaking Spanish so all I knew was that they were saying “hot hot hot” with a bunch of stuff in between. I was a bit frightened of the doctor because she looked like (and this will only tell you anything if you used to watch One Life to Live fifteen years ago) Tina’s crazy-evil mother-in-law who tried to kill her and a bunch of other people on a regular basis.
When I finally went back to the exam room I saw crazy-killer-look-a-like lady sitting in a chair reading a magazine.
I then proceeded to wait and wait and wait and WAIT and WAIT and WAIT!!!! and WAIT!!!! and WAIT!!!!!!!! some more. I was getting beyond pissed and hot and cranky, as was MisterE. I debated storming out of the room and demanding my co-pay back while exclaiming that I’d never come back again or making some snippy comment to the doctor when she finally arrived. I vowed I would never, ever step foot in this office again when the doctor has nothing better to do than sit around reading magazines while her only patient sits in an overheated room with a cranky baby (I was literally the only patient in the waiting room).
Then the doctor came in and it was a mousy little lady with a big zit on her lip.
I didn’t scream and have a fit, though I was still not overly impressed with the woman. She said I have eczema and wrote me a prescription for a strong cortisone cream. I’m afraid to use it because I know it burns if it touches your lips and MisterE likes to eat my hands. I have to do something, though, because my hands are raw and painful to the touch. I guess I’ll just have to be careful.
After my vow to never set foot in the office again, I made an appointment to have my big bug-eye looking mole removed on January 25. It is completely nasty. I’d say it’s a third nipple because it’s nestled between my breasts, but it used to be a completely normal looking mole until I got pregnant. Then it morphed into the disgusting state it’s in today with all sorts of weird looking nodules coming off it. I’m surprised it doesn’t leak milk. I’m also scheduled for a physical in March. It just seemed easier to make the appointments while I was standing there than working up the courage to find another doctor and making another call.
Poor MisterE has had his nap times thrown all out of whack today, which makes for a cranky Mama as well as a screaming baby. I finally, finally, finally got him down after many made up verses of “The baby needs to sleep, the baby needs to sleep, high ho the derry-o, the baby needs to sleep” when a damned telemarketer called. This same company had called two days ago and I’d told them no thanks, so I ripped the guy a new one and told him if I got another call from their company I would cancel my insurance with them (All State).
All the while, I was fighting off mad sugar cravings. It took every single ounce of my will power not to go into the kitchen and whip up a batch of Belgian Christmas Cookies. Baby carrots just don’t have the buttery goodness of a sweet treat like that. I have got to get back on track with healthy eating habits. I was doing so well for the best few years, but my pregnancy totally derailed it all. I try to tell myself that I have good habits, and for the most part I do, but the sugar obsession has got to stop. I only drink water or skim milk, during meals we only eat whole grain carbs, we plate up our food in the kitchen and don’t go back for seconds, I don’t eat after 8 pm, I try to always have vegetables with dinner even if it’s just salad, I don’t cook any fried foods at all, I generally only use olive oil in cooking, and I rarely snack during the day. These habits did not happen over night. They happened one by one over the course of the past several years. You’d think they would be enough to make me healthy and my blood pressure and cholesterol levels are very good, but the weight just won’t come off. It’s such a war every single day. Bah.
I want to hop on the elliptical right now and burn off 600 calories, but I don’t think that would be good for my knee. It was hurting so bad last night that I could barely sleep. I hope tomorrow’s dose of electricity does it some good.