A three part series.

Since I can't seem to get my act together, I guess I will just post bits and pieces as they come along:

Blah blah blah, I know neither one of us hasn’t written in forever, but we have been super busy, and / or super lazy depending on what day it is.  (*cough* and Jason never feels the need to update anyone on anything *cough*)

Anyway, Saturday, we had tons to do, guess what? None of it got done.  We were planning on building a step for Landon so that we could let the dogs use the doggie doors again.  Well the screws we bought work for one part, but not the other.  Super.  Jason is currently out buying longer screws for support.  We also bought a shelf-stand-organizer-storage-thing for our beverage fridge.  Now we can store more crap!  Too bad its ½ inch too short to fit our fridge, so we have to build an “extension” as we’re calling it.    Yay!  We also bough stuff to put more shelves in our laundry room, so that my habit of buying in bulk when I can save money, will no longer continue to clutter our house.  However, the shelves were too short, so we will use them on another project, and have to buy more tomorrow.  Ho-hum.

In Amanda news:
I’m dying.  No really, I feel like it.  I got a second run of blood tests to check out some wacky results, and the results were still wacky.  My doctor is guessing there is a growth on my pituitary gland, and she ordered an MRI of my brain.  Well, since my insurance is so super duper, they denied it and I don’t know when or if it will ever happen.  However, since mid-July, I have also been having massive headaches, which I never used to have.  Don’t really know if it’s related or not, because they are generally in the front/facial area of my head, and I’m pretty sure that the pituitary gland is towards the back, just kind of scary (and annoying.)  She also found that I have severe inflammation “somewhere” in my body.  The test she ran I guess, from what I understood runs on a specific scale, if your levels are between 2-3 you are at risk for coronary problems, mine was between 8 and 9 which means there is severe inflammation somewhere, they just don’t know where.  She’s told me to go to a rheumatoid specialist for that, which I haven’t done yet.  I also went to see her because my foot had been hurting.  It really started killing me on Memorial Day.  I worked that day, but was on my feet a ton more than normal, so I let it go for a few days, and told her at a normal appointment I had.  I had it x-rayed that following Friday to check for heel spurs with no luck.  Well, now it’s been two months, and she referred me to a podiatrist.  Well, he said the x-rays they took weren’t showing everything they should because they had me sit down.  He redid the x-rays with me bearing weight on them, and poked and prodded a bit.  Well turns out, just like everything else in my life, my foot issues were a domino effect.  Started out I have plantar fascia, when that got to me, I walked different and caused a contusion on my heel, which later developed into a hairline fracture, and when that got to me, I started walking different and messed up the tendon that goes from my ankle to my foot, because its rubbing up against bone that fused, and got irritated, and voila!  I am now in a boot that goes up to my knee for at least two weeks to hopefully correct the heel and ankle problem, and if all goes well with that, then we will start attacking the plantar fascia.  Super.  Well like that wasn’t bad enough, on Thursday, the day after I got the boot, some “wonderful” person decided to use the shredder that is across from my desk, while I was on the phone, and since we got a talk about how we have to be nice to everyone, because “someone” (who happens to be this particular person) felt that they were treated worse than everyone else, I just decided to move to a new phone rather than deal with drama.  Turns out, that was a bad idea.  I walked to the vault, and WHAM, the boot slid out from under me, and I went into the splits on the tile floor, with my other leg folding behind me.  One person saw it, and I thought they were going to have a heart attack, and I just started bawling, not because I hurt anything, but because I was just so frustrated.  He called someone else in, which just made me feel more stupid, and they were both asking if I was ok, but I just tried to focus on not crying, and getting back to my phone call.  Turns out, when the guy who made this all possible left, he called me a gimp, and I had just snapped.  I spent the next two hours in and out of meetings with supervisors and managers, because I was so pissed.  It didn’t really do much, as all I got was an apology and an “I heard someone else say it, so I thought it was ok” out of it.  Meh.

To wrap up my exciting week, I got jalapeño juice in my eye (even though I’ve washed my hands twice after cutting them, and it huuuuurts, they were red, and now so is my eye.)

More, coming up!