I saw two baby squirrels in the tree outside my house, and I thought of the one you found near your car. And how you cared for it, and fed it, and worried. And how you named it Nacho and hoped it found its mama. And then I thought about how that made me start to fall in love with you, what seems like forever ago.
Google is such a demon whore when it comes to medical stuff. I Google things obsessively sometimes when I'm feeling unwell, and it is is never never NEVER a good idea.
But in the midst of my tonsil-related panic, Googling things that lodged terrible scenarios firmly in my brain, I came across a site based in the UK called No More Panic, which has a "Health Anxiety" board (which I certainly and fo' sho have), and there was a post about something that sounds like my thing, and it made me feel better. So I'm not pacing and hyperventilating and crying anymore, and am actually getting some work done.
Whew.
(Still concerned, though, and will get a referral to an ENT today or Monday. Also, I really don't need this shit right now. I have enough to deal with. Thanks, Universe. Sigh.)
I still have this... thing either on or behind my tonsil (anatomy is not my area of expertise), and it's freaking me the hell out. It hurts less, but it just looks like something that really really should not be there.
Shit shit shit shit.
There are other things I should be writing about, but I don't feel like it right now. I'm trying to stay in reasonable mode and not let my lizard brain take over, but I can feel my crusty, logical shell softening. I had lots of dreams last night where everything was out of control and frustrating and I couldn't get where I wanted to go. I have a feeling this will spill out of my dreams and bleed into reality soon, but let's try to hold that off for a while.
So, yes, let me describe the plants on my porch, the one bright spot in my life right now. I have four window boxes along the front edge. One has yellow linaria and dwarf cosmos ("dwarf" meaning it will be only 2 feet tall instead of 4). Another has a type of bright pink salvia I've never seen before (and can't find it definitively on the interwebs, though I think it's a greggii hybrid) and white nicotiana. The next has dwarf nasturtiums and blue salvia, and the last has salmon-y zinnias and blue scaevola (fan flower).
The concrete planters on either side of the stairs up to the porch have lantana with gorgeous pink and orange flowers, portulaca, and silver thyme. The portulaca is looking sadly droopy, but I just put it in yesterday, so I'm hoping it'll butch up and sort itself out.
Then, I have two window boxes that should start sprouting moonflowers and morning glories in the next couple of weeks, but right now they just look like big boxes of dirt. So not so exciting at the moment.
I have two little pots of lavender and some semi-trailing nasturtiums waiting patiently for a pot. I have variegated basil, which is so much prettier (and I think has a better fragrance and taste) than plain old sweet basil. I have a spearmint plant (good for summer cocktails and lemonade) and a rosemary plant (which hopefully won't croak -- they can be temperamental, particularly in pots, and I very likely used the wrong soil).
That's it so far. Now that my porch has been cleared of crap (broken chairs and the like), I have a lot more space, so I'm thinking about some shady plants that might be happy behind the lilac bush (which has just finished flowering and looks kind of brown and sad at the moment).
I think it's time for more porchy porch before I settle down to work on something about Linux administration, which I'm sure will be thrilling.
Now I think I have strep throat. Or something even more hideous. I keep looking at my left tonsil and wonder, what the hell IS that? (I will spare you a description.) The medical professional I saw today said the same thing. Helpful.
But the rapid strep test was negative, so I guess I just have to wait until the throat culture results. Unless it feels like someone is stabbing me in the neck tomorrow (which seems possible), in which case I'll go back and demand drugs.
Back to my porch, which now has even more plants, a lovely variegated basil. I also planted my morning glory and moonflower seeds, a little late, but better than never. I still need a pot for my lavender and trailing nasturtiums (is that a weird combo?) and more potting soil, which might happen tomorrow.
So, you know when you say to yourself, "Well, at least things can't get any worse"? And then they do?
Yeah. Crap.
This weekend was full. Full of bugs and in-between-ness.
I was surrounded and alone. Working and not. Real conversations and those in my head and vivid dreams that had me confused between the two.
I planted so many plants, got my hands ragged with dirt and soil and rocks. Sprayed to gagging with anti-bug spray and swathed in netting, wreathed in blackflies and mosquitoes like an insectoid nightmare. Burned by the sun and chemicals, but happy to be digging and growing.
Then I ventured out for five minutes and got bit under the eye, and said eye is still swollen. Like I'd been punched but more red than purple.
There were ins and outs and what-have-yous. Elderly dogs, a how-is-this-cat-still-alive cat, a not-quite "puppy."
A pseudo parade, with Girl Scouts riding a tank down the main street.
Not enough sleep and not enough talk, except inside my head. Disappointments and arguments I mostly imagined, but fear will come to be real.
I hope I'll sort it out tomorrow, but I'm not confident I will.
If you can't make sense of this, don't worry -- neither can I. Yet.