Sunday Stealing

 Staying Up Late 

 
1. Do you have any Pepto-Bismol in your house?  Technically yes, since PB tablets are in my purse and my purse is in my home.
2. Do you have a favorite flavor of vodka? No. I like vodka, but I don't play favorites.
3. Is your backyard big enough to fit a trampoline? ...and then some. No yard.
4. When was the last time you had eggs? I had a hard-boiled egg the other day.
5. How often do you blow dry your hair, and what color is your blow dryer? I blow dry my hair every day. My dryer is purple.
6. Have you ever gone to bed later than three AM? Yes. I've pulled all-nighters for work, but it's been a long time.
7. Have you been to a surprise party before? Yes.
8. What is your least favorite month? Interesting question, in that I didn't realize until this moment I don't have a least favorite month.
9. Have you ever gone to see a movie the day it came out? Nope
10. Do you like movies/books about drugs, and why or why not? My first response to this question is ICK! Though with further thought I recall how much I appreciate Frank Sinatra's performance in The Man with the Golden Arm.

11. Do you have scrap paper by your computer? I have a pad. Does that count?
12. Have you ever kept a bag from a store because you liked it? Yes. I don't know why I do, but I do.
13.Was the last thing you drank carbonated? No. It was tap water.
14. Do you own any yellow clothing? No. I look terrible in yellow. Sickly.
15. Last person you argued with. My art director. We didn't really argue. I just yelled at her. I'm not sorry. She doesn't listen in meetings and afterward I have to repeat things for her. I explained the project we're starting Tuesday FOUR TIMES! If I didn't scold her, I know I could look forward to a fifth.

 
 

There's something wrong here

To comfort myself after receiving a ton of bad news on Tuesday, I had meatballs. It was the first beef I'd had for a while, but I was looking for comfort from comfort food. Big mistake.

Every night since then -- Wednesday night, Thursday night, Friday night and Saturday night -- I've had gut discomfort. Always at night. Sometimes just tenderness, sometimes vicious cramping. When it gets bad, I get scared.

I wake up in the morning, and it's gone. I wasn't even aware of it at the ballpark Friday.

I went to the doctor Saturday and she explained that my diverticula are inflamed. Because I have no fever of diarrhea, and since it comes and goes, she doesn't think it's full-blown diverticulitis. She also believes that stress from my personal life is exacerbating it.

Saturday night it started bedeviling me again at about 8:30 and it just got worse and worse. I did something just after midnight Sunday morning, I never do. I had my doctor paged. She called me back within minutes. I told her I was sure "something is broken inside."

My doctor assured me it's not. I need to drink more water -- lots more! -- and take Excedrin Migraine. I also soaked in a hot tub. I eventually fell asleep. I woke up this morning feeling fine.

What the hell.

My doctor is calling me today. She wants me to have a CT scan. As bad as the pain is, she reassures me I'm going to be OK. I believe her, because as I post this, I'm fine.

I trust my doctor. I give a little but sincere prayer of gratitude every time the pain passes. I hope that once I have the scan, we'll be able to proceed and treat it.

Look how good our seats were!

 On Friday, my nephew accompanied me to my first/only 2022 game at Wrigley Field. It was a beautiful day, just about 80º and, as you can see, clear and sunny. Our ace, Marcus Stroman, has struggled at home and I was happy to be there for his first victory within The Friendly Confines. He deserved it! He's pitched well all year and for some reason, the bats just stay asleep when he's on the mound. Even Friday, the score was 2-1. 

I was, of course, wearing my #44 Anthony Rizzo shirt. Friday was my first time back since he was so cruelly wrested from us traded, and I had to represent for him. As did my nephew and the gazillion other fans wearing #44. But it occurred to me that wearing my Cubbie shirt and carrying my Cubbie purse, it may be a bit much for a 64-year-old woman. Where's my dignity? Oh, well, screw it. The Cubs make me happy.

So does my nephew. He is so intensely, fabulously nerdy about baseball. I am the one who introduced him to the game but wow, the student has far surpassed the teacher. I love talking to him. First of all, he never gets bored with all my baseball talk, like just about every other person I know does. Secondly, we laugh at all the same things. And he's getting into solo McCartney! When we weren't talking about Anthony Rizzo and/or the Cubs, we were talking Sir Paul. My ideal conversationalist. 

He's 21 now -- 22 in a matter of weeks -- and I've noticed that as he's moved from adolescent to man, he's become more affectionate. When I told him that Henry was in the hospital again, he awkwardly hugged me. It was sweet.