Raestuff

Well, wow. . . a full two-thirds of my fan base have been eagerly awaiting my next entry for over a week now, so I guess it’s probably time to say something.

Several notes about Rae:

First of all, we’re back together. I know that almost everyone who will read this has already heard, but I wanted to record it for posterity. As a side note, the closest thing we have to a Song is, now, “Bubba Shot The Jukebox.” Yes, country. I love irony. In any event, mainly as a result of this, I have been desperately happy for the past week. Today in PE, Jenny asked me, “So, are you and Rae. . .?”
“Yes?” I asked innocently. She only kept smiling, urging me to complete her sentence.
“Uh-uh,” I said. “You started this question, I’m not digging you out. If you can ask it, I’ll tell you.” She didn’t actually complete it until tonight. That was a pointless anecdote.

Also, Rae has become quite the amateur photographer. You can, and should, check out her online gallery. My new default LJ picture is a highlight from one of her shots--although she claims that I am “not the focus” of the picture. Hah. I say she’s just a teeny bit jealous of my photogenic-ness.

Lastly, she is now a semi-proud member of the LiveJournal community herself. You can find her at craezy.

Doctors

I have medicine-phobia. I don’t know what the official term for that is, but I have it. I have this deep, inbred fear of taking medicine. Even Tylenol. I’ll complain about a headache, my mom will tell me to take a pill or two, and all of a sudden I’ll realize that my headache isn’t that bad. I do not know where this comes from.

So, naturally, doctors love to prescribe stuff for me. At last count, I am on. . . oh, about seven different doctor-ordered medications. For example, about a month ago, I thought that I had a sinus infection, because I had all the classic signs. Still, though, I didn’t feel comfortable self-diagnosing it, since it would require antibiotics. So I made a doctor’s appointment.

The doctor – not my usual one, as it happens – strolls in to the room, listens to me describe the symptoms, and decides that I have an infection. No inspection, no tests, no nothing. Just straight to antibiotics. Then, as the crowning touch, she looks at my face and prescribes two extra creams and lotions for me to use. Three medications, and she never even touched me.

Of course, the antibiotics that she prescribed gave me awful intestinal problems for the next three weeks. When the stomach aches and other problems didn’t go away, I made another doctor’s appointment. This guy comes in, looks at my face, and – guess what! – prescribes a NEW antibiotic for me, this one for my acne. In addition, he puts me on an over-the-counter medication to counter the side effects of the last antibiotic.

Needless to say, these new pills are approximately the size of a Mack truck.

Isn’t there any cave I can crawl into where the people have never heard of Medicine?