It all Started After I Ate the Cauliflower. Coincidence?

Strange things are afoot in the EP.

Item one: I started shaking on Thursday evening during a movie. A nice, relaxing movie.

Item two: I have not stopped shaking ever since.

Not like little tremors. Like I am a complete goon who is fully-palsying. In my torso, legs, and hands. And my back. And my feet. And my toes.

So I went to the Doctor today, and they ran me through all sorts of silly tests to determine if I had brain damage.

I do not.

So they took a kajillion vials of blood to run tests. As a side note, it is difficult to hold still while donating blood if your entire body is shaking. But I am a trooper, you know.

Item three: It is snowing. Remember on Saturday, how it was in the eighties? Not any more!

Item four: They gave me some anti-seizure medication. Still shaking.

Item five: It was so bad that all of these old veterans with tubes in their noses kept trying to give me their seats at the hospital. I declined. Because I feel just fine. But man, are my muscles sore from the shaking. Man.

To sum up: Not brain damaged. Shaking. Legs can do reflex hammer test AND shake at the same time. Old people pity me. Snowing in EP.

Here's to hoping Dr. House has an enlightening episode this week...Maybe I have a secret pregnancy in my nervous cord, or my cloits are septic or I need some transfusifications. Or maybe it is my twin.

Thankful For a Puritanical Sense of Guilt

So, the e-brake on my car needs to be fixed before it will pass the safety requirements for Texas, and I can't afford to go to California AND get it fixed at the same time, so I decided to put it off until the fifteenth when I can budget it in. (Because we have one hill here. So I am not concerned.) But because my sticker has expired (in Texas the safety sticker is separate from the registration) I can't drive on post, so I had to call a friend to take me to the medical clinic to pick up the happy pills.

(I don't remember the depth I have gone into on this blog about the crazy (I know I could go through the archives, but we have discussed the laziness already) but I have clinical depression and an anxiety disorder, and I have had them since I was in Jr. High, and will most likely have them until either menopause or death. The anxiety is not a big deal any more, but the depression is cyclical, like a bell-curve. At the bottom I am fine, and then it builds, builds, builds, until I can not really function, on that curvey, belley part and, then after a while, it goes back down the slope. Repeat. So I GOTS to have me the happy pills to function, or the time between curvey, belley episodes is super quick.)

So she dropped me off in front of the clinic so I could run into the pharmacy and grab the good stuff. When I went to take a number, I grabbed 964. And I glanced down and saw that someone had discarded ticket 948. I looked at the sign, and they were on number 947. I looked around furtively and put it in my pocket. My heart was beating like crazy--I felt so dishonest! And then they called 948. I waited a beat or two to see if anyone stood up, and then I headed to the counter!

Now, I know that you are all thinking that this is patently lame of me. But you have to understand that I HAVE NEVER tried to get over or rocked the boat or anything in my whole life. I don't take cuts, I don't keep money I find in the street, I turn in EVERYTHING to the lost and found. (There is a school bus stop outside of my house, and a kid left a new copy of The Sims on my driveway. And I LOVE computer games. It was the summer, so I brought it inside so it dodn't get damaged, and I left a note telling them I had it. I left that note for seven days. And I still feel guilty every time I see that stupid game.) So in my mind, I was quasi-stealing. Just writing about this is making my heart beat faster.

And I seriously don't know how people live on the edge like this every day. I think I would have a stroke.