Lately, at some point during the late morning/early afternoon hours, I am awakened by Amy digging on my cheek or chewing on my lip. This morning, or yesterday morning (since it has been Wednesday for three hours now), she was so fervent that I had to beg my parents to come get her off of me so that I could tend to one of the scratches. I think her wake-up calls are cute, in a way, but they are also a little scary. I don’t want to be afraid of her, so I’ve got to figure out how to get her to stop doing the whole scratch-and-bite-Janet’s-face-off thing.
I have got to call my gastroenterologist tomorrow. I still haven’t scheduled the colonoscopy with him that my hematologist’s nurse practitioner told me to schedule back in December. (The doctor that did the Humana house call thing mentioned me needing one as well.) I also need to get him to figure out how to stop these esophageal spasms before the pain drives me nuts. (I know it might get worse before it gets any better, since my dad’s esophagus had him in and out of the emergency room when he was in his late twenties and early thirties.)
I would like to have one issue that runs in my family that didn’t end up causing problems for me as well. Actually, I would like to not have inherited any of the crappy issues. I guess it’s too late to demand a better genetic code, though. Actually, I don’t think anyone can actually demand that, but it would be so cool if you could. I am totally having flashbacks of that Voyager episode where B’Elanna wants to delete some of the Klingon DNA sequences from Miral’s genetic code. (The daughter Miral, not her mom.) And I feel like even more of a geek than I usually do by referencing a Star Trek series and trying to apply some of it to my life. Of course, if you hadn’t figured out that I’m a bit of a geek by now, then you obviously haven’t been paying attention.
I had other stuff I wanted to blog about, but, of course, I have forgotten most of it.