My mother, the enabler

gulp, i’m your mother.

Wait! You have rare diseases I can look up too? Because lupus is a washout—it requires too many blood tests to diagnosis. Needles *shudder*

So… so… [happy dance] what ideas do you have? What’s my problem?

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Um. Physical problem, not mental problem(s).

I just have a feeling I should clarify that.

You can share in my hypochondriacal fear: Lyme disease.

(But, as any good hypchondriac, I’m really afraid to joke too much. Though I want to. But, then, I’d feel really bad for laughing at myself if I do end up with what I imagine I’ve got. But, thinking that makes it even funnier.  Oh, I crack me up . . . but wait, maybe that’s osteoporosis cracking me up. Bwah-ha-ha!)

ummmm . . . MS is always scary, but I’m sure you’ve already looked into it. LOL on the lyme disease—what about fibermyalgia?

Me? nothing too fancy. i’m growing a tumor. it’s somewhere, i just know it—if only i had access to a full body MRI.

Another S, were you there the day I brought the hypochondriac poem into workshop and then tried to deny that it was based on personal experience? Ang looked dumbfounded and said something like, “But you spend more time on WebMD than I do!” Heh!

MS and brain tumors are ruled out for me, I’m afraid. So is epilepsy. Heh. My MRI a few years ago was clean. (Ooh… that sounds bad. I didn’t even want the tests. The doctor made me do it.)

But I should go look up Lyme disease. We were asking about fibromyalgia at the same time the MRI was being done, but apparently it’s a last-ditch diagnosis? “We don’t know what’s wrong, so we’ll call it fibromyalgia”?

But… my secret secret fear: Mad Cow Disease.

I was in (and eating meat in) two different countries that were having Mad Cow outbreaks, you know. It’s why the Red Cross will have nothing to do with my blood.

*foam* *foam* *foam*

I do believe I remember the hypochondriac poem, but not the WebMD comment. I already have a fybromyalgia poem: “not cure-all, but diagnose-all” is one crappy line.  It’s about nostalgia, obviously, and honeysuckle. And, well, it too sucks. But was fun to do.

Ooops, just re-read that comment and want to clarify something. “It too sucks” means “the honey.” Hedious word play on “honeysuckle.” (Oh, I’ve been up too long.) I’m not referring to your poem.

Do you realize we live in the two states one could drive to farthest away from each other? I suddenly realized how far apart we are because it’s so warm, we’re sleeping with the windows open. I’m sure that’s not the case in AK. Oh, god, this state is weird. We’re trading George Bush’s brother in for a new governor three times more tan than just about any Hollywood star. Freakin’ twilight zone, I tell ya’.  Well, except, you’re almost literally living in the twilight zone this time of year. Oh, I’m rambling. Must. Go. To. Sleep.

Oh, and a cancer poem, and a rabies poem: I have these too.

Hmmmmm…I seriously never realized this before.

Oh, and multiple shark bite & car wreck poems. Even a hypertension/aneurism (sp?) one. And I thought I was joking about being a hypochondriac!

Ooh… sharks. I have a poem about tossing ashes to the sharks. Well, that image is in there anyway. And another about staking a guy out in the water so the sharks can eat him.

I’d hate to think what that says about me.

Weather-wise, yeah. Temps in the teens again and about 5 1/2 hours of daylight. Urg. I’d seriously move this summer if I could figure out a job—too much of the web work is local to be able to count on it going with me.

what about a poem exploring the binaries between Alaska and Florida? sun burn and wind burn? rosey cheeks and gov’ners with their mouths drawn up tight in a bow? eek. an image of santa and botox is not where i want to go. nevermind.