Wheels

There's a lot going on these days. I'm getting a new car tomorrow. It's a pretty big upgrade from my current little Saturn wagon, and people's reactions have ranged from surprise to jealousy (my sister) to great happiness that I will be in an incredibly safe and comfortable tank (my mother, who was converted during the test-drive).

My feeling is that life is too short not to have a little fun. I first became interested in the car because it was stylish and I knew it was a really well-built machine, but the test drive erased any doubts that I needed to get this car. When I say the test drive converted my mom, it's because it pretty much was like a religious experience. Or an orgasm. Or being on drugs. All of the above.

Mostly, it was the way the car handled on curves and over bumps. I didn't believe the speedometer when it said 60 and had to ask the sales guy how fast we were going. I was sure I was creeping along at 35. I have to confess I've always wanted to be a racecar driver. I'm not buying a racecar, exactly, but it does go awfully fast.

So that's my little foray into the material pleasures. I figure I'm going to have this car for a very long time, so I might as well treat it as an investment. It's flexible enough to be a decent family car if I ever acquire a family, but it's great for the single girl, too.

Unremarkable

So, the results of my CT scan are that all my organs, interstices and squishy parts are "unremarkable." In other words, normal as far as the radiologist can tell. I've never been so happy to be called unremarkable.

Of course, the next step is a visit to the G-I doctor and probably the dreaded scope. Everyone fears the colonoscopy, although the folks I've known who actually have experienced it swear it's not that bad. But I already have a couple of people asking for the post-scope report. How bad is it, etc.

My dad is due for a screening scope (he's almost 70), and he's been ignoring doctor's orders. I'm threatening to have us set up for side-by-side scopes, kind of like a couple's massage at the spa. It's always better to have a buddy.

So that's the latest news about my intestines.

In other news, I feel deep-seated hostility for our vendors. I ask myself what's gotten me to this point. The relationship started off so well. They were on top of everything and I trusted them to get it done. I think we've reached a point of malaise in our relationship, though.

As is often the case, their strength was in planning rather than execution. They were fantastic planners and the level of thought shows in the final product. Somewhere along the way, though (maybe in the transition to our FOURTH project manager and THIRD technical consult within a year), details were overlooked. Responses slowed to a crawl. When you're having a conversation, there's a lag time beyond which it's hard to maintain the banter. You forget what you're talking about. You cease to care.

That's how it feels with this project. When my vendor gets back to me weeks later about a request, it's near impossible to remember the original context. Worse, it loses its urgency and the likelihood it'll even be addressed. Some issues go away because they lose relevance, but most just linger and come back to bite you in the ass later.

Swimming to work

It's been raining hard since yesterday. Glad to see the weather patterns are starting to shift, wafting a hint of autumn down to this moisture-starved corner of the world.

Spent some time at home yesterday just feeling glad to be home and dry. I was less happy this morning when I had to wade the flooded parking lot to get to my office. It was bad enough that my feet were so soaked I could hardly keep my feet in my slippery sandals. Also, the long strands of wet hair whipping in my face were not helpful.

But the thing that most raised my hackles was that I knew when I finally made it to the office, this one person, who always seems to have much less work than any of my other coworkers, would be loitering in the hall ready to give some facile commentary on my lateness and wetness.

My outrage just kept mounting as I got closer to the building, and sure enough the person was there, waiting, when I walked in. The scowl on my face must have signalled danger, because the response was much more low-key than usual; just a mock-sympathetic giggle.

Apparently not horribly ill

So, yesterday I went to get a CT scan of my abdomen to find out why I have this persistent pressure/pain in my lower abdomen, which I think ultimately will turn out to be IBS. They gave me a big tumbler of x-ray dye to drink. It was sort of lemonade-flavored, the hint of a gag-inducing aftertaste. The good thing is it was cold and I was thirsty, so I sucked it down in about five minutes (they tell you to drink it all within ten minutes).

Overall, not too horrible. By far the best part was that, because I am an "emergent" case--which means they worked me into the schedule for the scan and my pain is recent--they took my film to the radiologist immediately to make sure I didn't need to be admitted to the hospital. I didn't get any results beyond "you can go"; the full diagnosis comes Tuesday after my doctor sees the results. Still, I feel that given the decision tree of hospital vs. no, it's encouraging that I got the latter option.

Hot off the press: pleasing words

palpate
goombah

The usual stuff

Today I realized that I've been so consumed with my project at work that I've managed to avoid a lot of useless meetings over the last few months. That stopped rather abruptly today, when I attended a meeting that made me want to jab a pen into my thigh for about half its duration.

Could have been worse. There were some useful things that came out of it, and my boss and I traded some snarky notes. He's much better at appearing focused on the meeting than I am, though. He can be drawing little flowers in his portfolio one moment and making fabulously cogent remarks that are totally germane to the conversation the next moment.

On the other hand, I was cracking up at him and the girl across from me who was rolling her eyes. My other boss also made the meeting more enjoyable by making somewhat hostile remarks that caused at least one person to cringe. I love it when she's a justified hardass.

So, not too bad all in all. The other news in my world is that all continues not to be well with my g-i tract. Theories range from IBS to a ruptured ovarian cyst, although I've talked to my ovaries and they say they're not the problem. They say it's all intestinal. So, I have a scan on Friday, and if that doesn't reveal anything I may have the pleasure of the colonoscopy I had hoped to avoid for another 20 years.

When I went to the doctor the other day, I made a pact with myself. I will not self-diagnose. I will not visit WebMD or speculate with future-Dr. Jo. I learned from my whole thyroid adventure last year that sometimes it's best to let the medical professionals unravel it for you, at least in the early stage of diagnosis.

So yeah, I'm a little worried. I especially don't relish the waiting time between the scan and the results (Friday until Tuesday). But we just had a big worry with my mom, which turned out to be completely a false alarm, and I've reached my threshold for Xtreme worry. It just made my stomach hurt worse.

Pleasing words for an early September day

cadre
seredipity

(Too lazy to see if I've posted these before. Sorry.)

In other news, I'm taking tomorrow off to visit MC and her girls (and husband! He counts, too!). Haven't even had time to get excited until just now.

Also, I caved and made a doctor appointment for Monday to get the insistent pain in my abdomen checked out. As soon as I made the appointment, the pain started to fade, as psychosomatic pains are wont to do. Still, it's time to find out what's going on. Hopefully, my mini-vacation will cure what ails me. That or a big chocolate milkshake.

Ahhh, milkshakes. They're a distant, but powerful, memory. When I was a kid, my mom made me a chocolate milkshake every day after school. If you find that appalling in this age of rampant child obesity (and I cringe a little when I think about it), let me at least point out that I was a scrawny little kid. But since I'm not that any more, I've cut down on the milkshakes.

But someone mentioned milkshakes today and I had to stop in my tracks and savor the memory, it was so palpable. I felt like a borg downloading my distant past as a human. Yes. I would like a milkshake right now. Chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup, please.