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.