Pincushion

I had a birthday, and so did Mark, and we also celebrated 24 happy years being espoused* and just October in general, which is a month of lovely colors and coolness and warmth both. Isaac was home for his midterm break, and we fêted him with tasty food and coffee and baked goods from Tandem, and he spent lots of time with his sweetheart and even got some writing and reading done.

Clearly he's my spirit animal.

In the continuing adventures of my digestive issues, I was gluten free for almost three months, which maybe helped? A little bit? Maybe? I was also prescribed crazy antibiotics for a spell, which definitely didn't help, and tried various extreme diets and probiotics, which also didn't do anything for me. The latest plan by my gastroenterologist** is a low dose of antidepressants, which actually--strangely--seems to be helping. Funny that my guts, after all of this, just seem to be a little depressed. I've also started getting acupunctured*** this month, which I looooove, and which may help, if only with the stress that seems to contribute to my issues. Today during acupuncture I composed a beautiful poem in my head that I promptly forgot when I shook off the strange and dizzy relaxation afterward. It was perfect, I think. There was a girl with pins stuck through the skin of her fingertips, and people walking around with acupuncture needles sticking out of them. I wish I could remember it.



*archaic: married
**medical term for tummy doctor
***not a real word, but I like saying it