So I had my Doppler (!) Sonograms of my right arm, and both legs yesterday and they found two blood clots in my right bicep. Hmmm. The tech was most concerned and sighing all on my arm and stuff, so I started thinking I was headed for surgery last night. Boo. She said, Wait here while I call this in to your doctor, and sure enough I had to wait a good bit for them to get through and decide what to do with me. I got so concerned, I eventually begged for a public phone and had Jason on the phone just as they came out for me when he was demanding to speak with someone. You can go but you must speak with your doctor today.
So Jason got on the horn to the doctor, and they were to call him back and I was on my way from OLNEY. Olney is kind of a ways away, you see. With lots of low speed limits and SUVs who could care less on my tail both ways. Meh. They can afford tickets. Not me. And I don’t believe in tickets, see, I believe in speed limits on back roads.
Anyway. So the doctor’s assistant reaches me, instead of Jason, and says come right in, right as I’m making it into Germantown. Okay, but I have to walk and feed my dog.
Poor Chipper. I haven’t seen him since 11 am and it’s 4:20. He’s awesome.
Today he woofed Ma-Ma I swear it. I replied Chi-Per and we were both thrilled. Anyway.
So back to the doctor with Jason on his way to meet me there. I meet a colleague of my regular doc. No worries. She says I have the two clots, etc. But no surgery. One is fairly deep, one not so deep. She says I need a heavy blood thinner right away and another one for 3-6 months, Coumadin. Oh, don’t I know all about Coumadin, right, long story from another person’s time, etc.? Anyway. And Jason’s Dad was on it also for 30 years as well before his would go awry … all about it … blood tests and numbers and no greens and vitamin K … something … fear of cuts and I scratch myself ALL the time, Well you’re just going to have to refrain, and your husband is going to have to give you shots in the stomach twice a day for five days … starting tonight.
Hell ooooooooo? Well, it still beats surgery. That’s all I can tell myself, over and over, thinking of all that I’ve got planned creatively for the weekend. There simply isn’t time to take a blood clot, or two, out of my arm, thank you. Don’t mind me … I have a life here … heh … at least this week I do!
Sigh. But Jason is doing these shots really well, as much as it freaks us both out, he is doing great! His Mom says that she and he are part of an exclusive club in the fambly now. She had to do that for his Dad at one point. So …
Just got back from ArtSpring in Takoma Park, where it does seem that I will have some photography on consignment and volunteer my web and Facebook skills as a member there! Hooray! Most exciting development!
Jason got me a Tibetan bell for my birthday and a Wrap London ruffled long sleeve vanilla colored henley which I am most excited about. Hooray yet again!
Then we went by THE front porch and I took about ten photos there with some great degree of right arm and neck pain. How I suffer for my art! Ha! HA! But I just breathed and blinked my eyes to keep focus and got what I got. I think I got it good! Getting ready to check and most excited about that. Yay!
Tomorrow is the reading at Constellation Books in Reisterstown, MD. Will practice reading this afternoon and on the morrow so my tongue doesn’t get tangled. Sooooo glad it’s in the mid-afternoon.
Oh. The doctor surprisingly said that I very well could have caused the blood clots from painting. I’m holding out for it to be the Prozac. Please pray with me that it’s the Prozac, because even though I was painting about every day, you KNOW I was only painting a minimum of like an hour, forty-five minutes, thirty minutes, sometimes all I could muster with my back and pain was twenty minutes. So don’t TELL me I did this overpainting ’cause I’m a freak out! How can I paint less than that? When will I paint again as it is?? I’m already freaked out about that! agh! so pray or meditate or vibe or you know send good thoughts my way if you like my paintings … ‘kay?
I was looking at the trees along the side of I-495, studying them as I do. A painter, I thought, who does not paint, I thought sadly. This cannot be. NO! It has to be the Prozac, I’m telling you.