I’m sitting in the surgeon’s office writing this. There’s nothing like the antiseptic smell of the waiting room, is there? Ugh.
I had to take a day off of teaching to be here on time for the MRI and then the actual appointment. I’d rather be at home, curled up on the couch under my big snuggly Dr. Who fleece blanket than here. I’d rather be listening to my little fireplace crackling and DG snoring than listening to all the sick people hacking and coughing. Heck, I’d rather be shoveling up the cow patties than be sitting in here.
I admit it. I’m a germophobe when it comes to doctors’ offices. Why is it that I can use my sweater and avoid touching any surface here with my hands and choose a chair in an empty part of the room yet that part suddenly becomes the coveted spot for every new (sick) person who walks in after that, and they all want to sneeze or cough on me? I’m convinced I’ll walk out of here with the avian flu or something the CDC hasn’t discovered yet.
I’m not even sick. It’s my wrist again. It’s finally done it, and it just refuses to cooperate anymore. I can’t drag around the square bales of hay or handle the water jugs or lift the feedbags. I can’t type well or use the mouse without hurting from that small movement. Even with all the little adaptations I’ve made (mostly forcing my left arm and hand to now be my dominant one), I can’t stand the constant pain anymore radiating from wrist to shoulder so here I sit, waiting….
I should have eaten an entire bag of oranges before venturing in here.
Also, I ran out of coffee about an hour ago. That is a tragedy of epic proportions today. LOL