Waiting to Expectorate

Waiting to Expectorate

This morning’s doctor visit was helpful, and informative, but frustrating too – in the fact that once again, I must accept that there is no Quick-Fix or Magic-Pill to make me feel normal again. And really, if I think about it, that’s ok. I have to remember that things I have to actually work at, end up working out better for me.

I like my women doctors and nurses. They patiently listen to my answers when they ask about symptoms as if I’m the only one who this has ever happened to; they cluck and chuckle sympathetically when I return to them for help after false assumptions of toughing this out, or trying something different; they nod wisely – yet non-judgementally as they once again set me on the path I know is necessary but will be full of ups and downs. The path began this time, with a visit to our Compounding Pharmacy to get a saliva test kit.

I didn’t think the downs would begin so quickly though…. After my appointment, it was almost noon. I was on my way home to take Bear to lunch at an ecclectic restaurant which is only open from 11 til 2, and since the kids were off school this week, this would work out perfectly.

……when CRASH!

I’d been about 400 feet from an intersection, merging from my lane into the far left side of the two left turn lanes and Some Jerk who was behind me, took the opportunity to scoot by me on my right, before I’d completed my lane change – and skinned his car against mine. Even travelling at low speed, (at least I was) some of his cream colored Audi got on my maroon minivan, and vice-versa, and there we stood, in the middle of the intersection in the classic hands on hips stance, looking at the damage. We exchanged insurance cards and then decided to move to a nearby parking lot to call the police to make a report. Not that this makes any difference to me, but Some Jerk was a young man of middle eastern descent with a thick accent and an apparent disdain for women who weren’t like him. Once the cop came, (in a town of 98% scandahoovians, one shouldn’t be surprised at the fact that she was) a young fair haired woman, Some Jerk not only answered the questions she asked me, but took over the conversation. Can’t people learn from the examples on Judge Judy and answer calmly, in turn and always with a deferential “ma’am” tacked on the end? His behavior earned him zero points in her book and she made that quite plain with her repeated curt reply of “sir, I’m not asking you.” In the end, no citations were issued. We both got cards with each other’s information on it to give to our insurance companys and we were free to go. As Some Jerk was getting into his car, the cop asked me to wait a moment and got out a diagram of the intersection to draw what actually happened. It was clear to me then that while she made no acknowledgement of guilt on either part, she believed my version as the true and correct one.

As this accident was occurring I’d been on my cell phone (OK, I didn’t mention that in the report) leaving a voicemail for Downtown Dad. As Some Jerk hit me I’d yelled “Jeezuzkryst” and dropped my cell phone – voice mail still recording. So by the time we were done and I was safely parking my battered van in my driveway, about 45 minutes later, an understandably frantic Downtown Dad rang my cell again. After relating the whole tale to him, and assuring him I was alive, and not in jail, or in the hospital – I realized that I still had time to take Bear to lunch. It was after lunch that I started to feel a little – what I refer to as Wonky about driving. Every car was WAY too close to me; every turn was a set up for disaster; every time I backed up I was anticipating something going crunch. Hormones or just delayed stress? You be the judge.

Wanting only to stay home, I knew I still had to get over to the Compounding Pharmacy (which, by the way, is across the street from my accident site) to pick up the saliva test kit. This process is another learning experience for me. Apparently my hormone levels show up in my spit. This spit needs to be collected at a certain time in my cycle, and at specific times of the day and then mailed to the testing facility. So…. I’ll end this post for today and go drink a lot of water, coz on Sunday, I got a lot of spittin’ to do! Euuuu.

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