One of my least favorite things about being a girl is all the different doctors. There's the regular doctor, and THAT doctor, and since THAT doctor scraped out the inside of my uterus five years ago I have to go see a You're Getting Old Doctor because I don't have any way of gauging what's going on inside except for my exhaustion level which is always pretty much on Over.
Today was a visit with THAT doctor and I had to fill him in on all the stuff I found out from the You're Getting Old Doctor and that I'm now taking thyroid medicine and Vitamin D because my body refuses to manufacture enough of either of those things (except, I guess, my body doesn't really manufacture thyroid, it's the thyroid that is supposed to do the manufacturing and like most small factories in the state of Michigan it has closed up shop. I blame the economy.) and THAT doctor asked me how I was feeling and I said "Well, I started the medication right before Christmas break and it was my son's birthday and I've been working more than usual because I'm the fill-in person and then the cat died so I could be feeling great but I have no way of knowing."
Then he gave me a weird look and offered me a B12 shot which I think is doctor-speak for "Please leave my office."
On open letter to the lady in my neighborhood:
6 hours ago