On the final day of spring break, the dogs brought some dead bird parts into the house and lined them up in front of the television. I can now say that I’ve crossed the house holding a bird head, a wing, a leg, and some feathers. Some of you can’t say that. Some of you can say much worse.
Easter was decent, but my lack of planning made us miss church which bummed me out. Lunch was fine, but the post-lunch conversation about funerals and dying and wills and arrangements and so on folded me into a huge bouncing anxiety ball and as a result I’ve been taking migraine pills for the past two days. I know that the next twenty years are going to bring some really dreadful experiences my way and I like to think that I’m preparing by filling my toolbox with things like yoga and meditation and strong friendships and God, but the fact remains that I Don’t Want to Talk About It Right Now.
A group from Harper’s school found that they had extra money from a fundraiser. Because of this, they went shopping for a microwave this morning. After purchasing the microwave, they drove to the Ronald McDonald House where they donated the microwave to be used by families who are staying there. Good stuff.
Do you remember back in December when my migraine doc prescribed yoga and then told me that she wanted to see me in three months to talk about how much I love yoga? This morning was the three month appointment.
Migraine Doc: Well? Has anything changed since our last appointment?
Me: As of today, I’ve practiced yoga for 88 days in a row.
Migraine Doc: Really?!
Me: IT’S BECAUSE OF YOU! You made me do this, and I’m not sure why I resisted for so long and if the sun refused to shine I would still be loving you. When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me. And so today, my world it smiles, your hand in mine, we walk the miles.
Migraine Doc: What?
Me: Led Zeppelin.
Migraine Doc: Is anything else going on?
Me: I caught ringworm from my cat, but we’re still friends.
I then told her about my current headache and that I think it’s just a remnant from Holy Week and I told her about my digestive stuff and how I’m self-diagnosing myself with Small Intestine Bacterial Overgrowth and she said, “Yep. That’s a popular one these days.”
And then I reminded myself that working on medical projects does not make me a doctor. (I think I would have been a decent doctor, though. Especially since my headache preventative also prevents me from crying.)
Before I left the office, the doctor told me that I’m awesome and I’m blessed. And I am. And so are you. (Even if you haven’t scraped bird brains out of your carpeting.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>