Much thanks to my husband for writing my blog for me last night.  I appreciate him keeping the torch going while I was unable to focus my thoughts in a single direction.  That’s not to say that I was quiet while he wrote.  I did shout out sentences I wanted him to include.  So again, thank you to him for not telling me to shut up or write it myself. 

You may not be aware that my husband writes a blog too.  It’s a fairly new one, and I would like to take a little of the credit (because I told him he should do it) but the truth is, he writes it all himself with no help from me.  He spends so much time in our garden, and he’s so devoted to the concept of “growing your own food” that I figured he should share that with the world.  I’m pretty glad he does.  You should check him out at http://www.suburbhomesteader.com.

Now that I’ve thanked my husband, I can tell you that I’m not speaking to him.  In fact, I’m pretty upset with him.  He won’t let me have ice cream, or hamburgers, or chips, or anything else that I wanted to eat tonight.  He said my blood pressure is too high for those things.  According to the charts, I’m only a tick or two away from the emergency room.  But I say…so what?  I still want my yummy foods!  So I pout.  Because that’s what we do when we don’t get our way, right?   Its traditional behavior that goes way back…all the way back to diapers I think.  I want good things to eat.  I don’t want things that are good for me.  This is the first day in over a week that I’m not on any medication.  And I’ve managed to get my appetite back, and it’s screaming for pizza!

You heard me right.  No medication for me.  I went to the cardiologist today, and he decided to take me off all of the high blood pressure medication that makes me behave like “Night of the Living Dead,” and just leave me untreated.  I don’t think that makes sense, but I’m not a doctor.  Instead he has me scheduled for more tests—probably to figure out if my high blood pressure is real or if I made it up or something.  I’m fairly creative, I’ll give you that…but I’m not THAT creative.  I think they just don’t know what to give someone that can’t tolerate the drugs normal people take.  Could it be that I’m the only woman over the age of thirty-five who has never dabbled in illegal drugs and therefore has absolutely no tolerance for the medically required sort?  I don’t think that’s possible, but I’m not sure…I think I should investigate further. 

But not until I’ve had something to eat.

I have to fast after midnight because I’m having blood work done in the morning.  The “let’s check everything…just in case,” kind of blood work that doctors seem to run every time you come down with something that penicillin can’t cure.  (Side note: Do they even prescribe straight penicillin anymore?)

I found a ripe banana and some sugar free ice cream in the freezer (it was only a little freezer burned) so I made a banana split without any of the delicious toppings.  I just had to pretend.  I’m good at pretending too. I’m just not great at relaxing apparently.  Or sleeping.

The doctor told me I need to get more sleep.  Can you believe that?  I even told him I write a daily blog and I have to stay up to get it finished every night.  He told me I need to forget the blog and get my rest.  Doctors are so stupid sometimes.  I’ll give up hamburgers before I give up my daily blog.  And if I have to I’ll give up pizza.  And salty chips.  You get the picture.  There’s a lot I’ll do for my health, but I’m not giving up the daily blog. 

And you can say you heard that here!

Until the next time…I’ll be back to counting sheep to fall asleep now that I’m off the drugs!