Medical Messes

If you don't want to know what's wrong with me, don't read this, but I feel I need a bitch-fest.
1) High blood pressure. Since I was 10 & got hit by that really old woman who was driving on a suspended liscense, I've had high b.p. This doesn't bug me, except for the fact that it gave me a lifetime of migraine headaches. And in order to take birth control pills to have some sense of control over my uterus, I have to regulate my b.p. Which means yes, another pill. It's purple. No more migraines, tho, so I'm not exactly complaining. But no matter what I eat or don't eat, no matter how heavy or light I am, I'll always have high bp. Why am I bitchin'? Because the pills are $20 when I have insurance & ridiculously expensive when I don't, & like today, I have to go get the scrip renewed every 3 months, which means driving halfway across town for a 5-min doc appt. Another $10. Frell.
2) My knee is misplaced. I know where it is, it just isn't where it belongs. I'm beginning to feel some affinity w/Hans Christian Anderson's original story of the Little Mermaid - not the toned-down Disney thing, but the older version, the one where, with every step it felt as though she were walking on knives. Part of the reason that I'm thrilled w/becoming nite odditer is that I don't have to stand for at least 30 hrs. of a 40-hr work week anymore. The floors at the hotel are very hard, they need to take pity on all of us who are getting fallen arches, varicose veins, bad knees, etc. & put in some deeper padding. Or give us stools or something.
3) This is irony. For someone who weighs almost 230 lbs., you'd think that my blood sugar & cholesterol would be through the roof. This is where I brag a little - my blood sugar is too low, and my total cholesterol is hovering somewhere around, o, 5. Of course, my hair, skin, nails & emotions are suffering greatly. My latest challenge is to find food that actually raises your cholesterol. My biggest problem with this is that a) I don't like eggs, & b) I don't like greasy fried food. Two doctors hate me. :P

History

I don't remember anything I learned in high school. Is that weird? I mean, it has been over 10 years. I barely remember anyone I went to high school with, let alone what I learned. Of course, we all know that 90% of what is taught in high school is close to b.s. Like Columbus being a nice guy. And they sort of gloss over the fact that the Puritans who founded America were basically kicked out of their various European communities because they were, well, puritanical. So we're helping my husband's nephew try to pass "History 102: 1877 to the Present". I lost interest in history once it got past, o, say, the Indo-Aryans invading the Tigris/Euphrates. And strangely enough, all of my jr high & high school textbooks ended sometime between WWI & WWII... low budgets. Most of my history textbooks were published around 1956, and I was in high school in the early 90's. I don't remember the '60's, not because I wasn't there, but because "Moments in American History" ended with 1955. I saw most of modern history happen on MTV news - the Berlin Wall came down, the Tian'amen Square Massacre, etc & so forth. I watched the Twin Towers collapse on CNN, tho, so I guess I've grown up a little since then. I do remember thinking to myself that I should have been watching it on MTV tho.

I've Lost My Mind...

Has anyone seen it laying around anywhere? I had some really deep, profound thought I was going to post, and since eating my ice cream, it has escaped me. Oh well. I'm in a writin' mood tonight. I think I was going to say something about the scorpion that lives in my backyard wall, or possibly about the dream I had this morning about the moose.
I rarely remember my dreams. And when I do, it's always the brain-fart dreams that I hold on to til waking.
About 2 weeks ago, I dreamt a sad reflection of my life pre-promotion. I went out & caught the scorpion w/a little slip-knot tied on the end of a long stick. I spent part of my dream chasing my husband w/the scorpion stick and then somehow I ended up at my job in a jester suit, poking the scorpion stick at guests across the counter from me, at co-workers, and generally anyone who came within poking range. I recall quite well that the scorpion was very traumatized by the whole thing, and really didn't seem inclined to sting anyone. Which is probably an indication that all my frustration and anger is as impotent as a traumatized scorpion.