Bowing to The Bloggess and My Not So Grey's ER Visit

Image by .imelda via Flickr

So, I'm over here with nothing to write about *AGAIN* because I suck when it's more than 140 characters at a time. Which is obvious, because The Bloggess has been over here a bit, which I found out on my Blog Frog widget, but she's never left a comment cause I'm totally a peasant and she's a blogging goddess. But then she has this other site were she dedicates the writings to causes and has a bunch of writers, called Bloggess Army (the naming is a whole other story, just go there and read up, you'll see) and I was so awesome on Twitter last week that I was invited to submit articles from time to time. And I totally jumped at it, cause OMG, SERIOUSLY?!?!? And THE BLOGGESS herself, sent out a tweet that welcomed me and two other writers and I totally don't know how to work screengrab, so I think I downloaded something, but don't know were it went, so you're just going to have to go over to my twitter page and view my favorites to see all the awesomeness and know that I'm not making this up. Anyway, Bloggess gives me the twitter shout out and then...

I went B L A N K

The chalkboard got erased and washed down like the janitor does like once per semester so that you actually can't see the writing that had been there before. So then I'm all, well thank God that I do LMFAO Friday, because I can do captions to pictures. And I have hubby to piss me off if I need other blogging material for this site, cause, well, honestly, that's the whole point of having a husband. But a real post for a real site with other people reading and writing and I should totally be able to do this because I've done guest posts before, but that was for someone that I had an open dialogue with. I don't have one of those with the Bloggess, I just have a massive blog crush and honestly, she's never even acknowledged me before. So, here I am all excited to write for the Bloggess Army site and I have lost my writing abilities. Because my life tends to suck like that. I need to go get an 'L' tattooed on my forehead, seriously.

Because since this weekend, I've been out to get me. Really.

First I wind up in the hospital Friday night cause the pain I've had in my chest had finally gone up into my jaw, and I was pretty sure it wasn't a heart attack, but if I didn't go check it out and then I'd died, I'd be beyond tattooed 'L', I'd be like erect a monument to my looserness. Turns out it wasn't a heart attack. Knew it, but needed confirmation, cause I'm needy like that. Then my hip finally went back into socket and I got the dishes done, but then I got an itchy rash on my hands ~ and feet last night so I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with doing dishes, but it did make me take butt-loads of Benadryl because that's what I do when I itch like that, but it knocks me out so that I wind up not posting till after 6pm on Monday. Because you don't wake up till like 4:30 in the afternoon which is why Benadryl and parenting don't mix.

Neither does Benadryl and blogging, which is kind of why this post blows big chunks. Even though my husband told me in Walmart the other night that he could smell bullets. I couldn't make that up people. He smelled bullets. Which should be a post all on it's own, but I've got the IQ of a turnip right now. Coffee isn't helping. And the itching is coming back. Maybe some of the 6 vials of blood they took on Friday would tell me why I keep getting these itching fits, but since I left without getting the results I still don't know what it is.

Yes, y'all I left. It was midnight on a Friday. They would not have gotten any results until possibly the morning, probably Tuesday morning since Monday was Columbus Day. The EKG was fine my blood pressure isn't even high. And they left me sitting in the little curtain area for over an hour without even checking on me because their Subway sandwiches were delivered. It was so NOT a Grey's Anatomy scene. Obviously, they weren't too worried about my condition, so I chose to go home and be in pain on my own couch instead of their uncomfortable gurney-bed. They wouldn't have told me anything else except to see my own doctor asap and he'd get the results from all my work-ups... maybe. How much ya wanna bet that bill is going to be like a thousand dollars. How much ya wanna bet they charge me for oxygen cause they put those stupid little thingeys into my nose and flicked a switch. Those little thingeys are a pain in the ass, btw. and the oxygen dries out your nostrils so that you wind up feeling like you've got a sinus infection even though you didn't go in there with one.

The other thing those people do, is weigh you. Yeah, I know it's for meds dosages. Whatever. I was already feeling bad enough to be there I sure as hell didn't want to know how much I weighed. So what if I asked. I don't own a scale on purpose. Did I mention that they look at you all crazy when you weigh a certain amount? Like we don't know we're whales, we need the condescending looks to get the point across. This is why y'all have only seen the one profile pic, cause it's the only recent~ish one without more than one chin.

I started my diet Saturday. Probably another reason that I'm rambling... I'm malnourished. The itchiness could be hives from being noticed by Jenny, though. I'm totally going with that. I'm going to call them Bloggess Bumps. Maybe if she pours Bloggess water on my head, I'll be healed and the Bloggess Bumps will stop.

I know. I'm going to hell.