Nobody is ever happy in my family. Other than my son, there is always a child (or two) trying to mentally fuck me.
For a few months, my eldest had been complaining of her ear; every now and again, she would either hear a “pop” or it sounded as if she was under water.
Knowing the importance of the delicate eardrum yet knowing my child more, her father and I kept reiterating that she was fine.
Before you go judgey on me, this was an encore complaint from years prior- where I took her to the top audiologist and was told: all good.
Fast forward to MLK weekend, where she went into her song and dance of nobody cares about me and she must get it checked today! In fact, she implored that all doctors should work on Saturdays so that she could be seen.
Having friends in high places, I texted my longtime friend and audiologist- whom I’d not spoken to in over five years (maybe ten), and she told me to come into her office that Monday. Furthermore, she said, her ENT partner would also fill us in whenever we arrived.
To make a LSS, she’s fine. No wax, no fluid, no nothing. Hears perfectly- the epitome of health.
So you could imagine my surprise when she was not thrilled to hear that. After all, she knows her ear best and believes something is there!
Needless to say, our car ride home with me telling her how that report is a good thing, only enraged her; tears fell.
For a few days when I chew, I feel this thing, in my left ear.
Me: (Looking around the house to ensure my privacy) Hub, every time I chew, I have this feeling in my ear that “snaps” and it’s not normal.
Gloater: Shame. I’m sure it’s nothing.
A&D for both my ass and nasal passages
Saline spray since chemo has wiped out all cilia and all it does is run
Dermoplast… provided from a friend for that pain, burning sit
And Tucks Medicated… to cool my testicles
…But if you’re worried about what hubby thinks, forget about it! He’s essentially hooked up to a ventilator to keep him from snoring so, I’m still the better half.
Could you imagine if I took off work for cancer? Just taking off one and a half days in a row- causes palpitations and minor outrage.
For Covid? Stay out forever.
I told my mother that all I wanted was a one bedroom apartment- but that is incorrect; I need two. One for me and one for the nurse.
Rochelle, what about your children?
?Huh? I can’t hear you.
These masks are good for many things… but since I dedicated today to showering, I took a good, long look at myself in the mirror and could hardly recognize myself.
There’s facial hair to serve a purpose and then there’s my sit… an orthodox werewolf, payos et al.
Need to shave my legs. I suppose I thought that since I am blonde and my eyebrows stopped growing in, that my leg hair would too. And before you get nasty, I cannot see below my triplets (boobs/boobs/belly) to know what’s happening. But today, I got a glimpse of my legs while trying to stretch my cancer pains away. Regardless, I no longer look Scandinavian.
To add insult to injury, I also have DBNS- daily bloody nose syndrome. Yep, as if a nonstop runny nose due to chemotherapy killing the nasal cilia, wasn’t enough… I blow my brains out too.
Before you say, “Rochelle, do you have a humidifier/dehumidifier?” I certainly do. I have the one recommended for dry air due to the temperature and its supposed to be the best. I mean, we use Distilled Water vs. the tap shit we gave the kids as newborns.
Anyhow, the point is, if my nose is a running faucet while I’m awake, it gets real dark whilst sleeping.
And yes, when the A&D isn’t shoved up my ass, its shoved up my nose.
Saline spray? Use that too…. after I set my dentures in Tang.
We got a new washing machine two weeks ago- because this house is poison to everything. Anyway, when it arrived, hubby tried to put it atop the pedestal we used for the old machine. Unfortunately, the machine was wider than the stand and the machine went right on the floor.
Which wouldn’t be a problem if I wasn’t crippled and could bend down without my bones turning to dust at any sudden movement.
Once again, hubby ordered another platform for the machine and it arrived yesterday. Now, before I share the photo, when hubby originally purchased the machine- I imagine he read the specs- the measurements. I mean, I know I’m just a blonde, but even I would figure the dimensions first and then buy- assuring that I had room first.
Anyhow, this decision was not mine so …. ya know.
Needless to say, I got the boobie prize.
I’m not sure which is worse: the rat trapped in the vents or my roid that has taken up permanent residence in betwuxt my ass.
Yes, can you believe it, after a tub of A&D, tube of Cortisone cream and vat of Prep H, I am still battling this squatter.
Shitting, once enjoyable, is now a daily episiotomy and I simply cannot.