That's the world, and we all live there

Lately I worry that every personal email I send is going to be marked as spam. I just typed one to Mark with the subject line PUPPIES, containing nothing but a link. Then I added text: "Did you read this already?" Still pretty spammy. I am too lazy, usually, to type out chatter, and I'm so often just sending something funny or interesting that in the old Book-of-Faces days I would have "posted" on someone's "wall" or whatever. And in the even older days before that I would've cut out of the newspaper with scissors and mailed in an envelope.

I got a flu shot today, at the weird clinic where I also got two of my four Covid shots. It's an empty office building of some sort, re-purposed into a vaccine clinic. There are twisty, winding hallways marked with blue tape arrows so you can figure out how to escape at the end. It's full of huge empty rooms with one or two pieces of plastic-covered furniture:

A ghost is clearly sitting in the left-hand chair.

A white lady with dreadlocks gave me my shot, after saying some things I couldn't hear (she never got louder, even after I said, "I'm sorry, what?" a bunch of times, so I gave up and put a blank smile on my face). Then I think she offered me a Dum-dum from a cup that had only like four in it, which was next to a pile of unicorn stickers, and I smiled blankly and followed the blue arrows back to my car.

Socially awkward dogs in penguin costumes

So I survived my colonoscopy! 

• My gastroenterologist looks younger every time I see her (I've been seeing her for about six years). Her bedside manner has improved. I am so reassured by her, she seems incredibly competent. 
• There was some kind of minor emergency that meant I had to lie there, prepped and waiting, for an hour, with nothing to read. I just listened to the nurses laughing and admired the "disposable curtains" in my "room," labeled to be disposed of in July. There were honeycombed mesh panels at the top that were nice to look at.
• I was slightly more awake for it this time? At least, I thought I was at the time, but in retrospect, maybe not?*
• My intake nurse's name was Jim, and he was from Montreal and has dual citizenship. His favorite book is 100 Years of Solitude. He told me not to drive a car later, but also not to make any financial decisions.*
• I chose from the snack options, with utter assurance: water and a granola bar. Then I worried I'd made the wrong selection.*
• Wandering around in a hospital johnny looking for a bathroom, pre-procedure = priceless.

*"Twilight sleep" = versed and fentanyl**

**To be frank, I wish I could have twilight sleep on airplanes. Someone could wheel me off at my destination and give me some apple juice and pretzels.

This post is about peanut butter

Every so often, either Mark or I will accidentally buy the peanut butter from Trader Joe's that says NO STIR in large print, and then adds in the tiny-print ingredients area, powdered sugar, palm oil. We've had just such a jar of peanut butter sitting on our counter with its receipt for a week or two, waiting for one of us to remember to grab it en route to Trader Joe's to exchange it for some actual peanut butter. Made with peanuts.* 

Today I was desperate for peanut butter for some reason, and being one week away from the second colonoscopy of my life (which under normal circumstances would make me approximately 60 years old), I am not supposed to eat nuts or seeds or dried fruits or tomatoes. Or corn. Or popcorn. And the only peanut butter we have that's not tainted with dog saliva or palm oil is crunchy, i.e. full of peanuts.** 

Anyway, so I ate some of the fake peanut butter on a slightly stale graham cracker (the only bread we have is full of seeds), and that taste — graham cracker, sweet, creamy peanut butter — was intensely evocative of...something.*** One of those non-specific and yet so very specific childhood somethings. I need to make a list and include this with the smell in the bread aisle at the grocery store et al.




*To clarify, there are peanuts in the NO STIR peanut butter. We are just trying to be healthy and avoid eating excessive amounts of powdered sugar and palm oil.

**Yeah, I know they're legumes, but still.

***Although we almost always had Skippy brand extra crunchy when I was a kid. I used to get a big spoonful and eat it for a snack.

Pity those who have not thick mittens

It must be 2019, because

• I just spent my Christmas $ on a bottle of CBD oil*
• I cooked a Certified Humane chicken breast for my dogs last night
• You can spend $60 on 12 stickers that you stick upon your body if you so choose. These stickers are programmed with specific sub-harmonic frequencies to target particular lifestyle concerns. In other words, each sticker is a vibrational energy disc designed to help people achieve harmonic homeostasis. "Wait, what?" you ask? Well, let me clarify: Through a proprietary technology, frequencies are recorded, condensed, and stored within the sticker, in much the same way that you would save a file to your computer’s hard drive. When the sticker is properly applied to your skin, it begins broadcasting the stored frequencies, which may influence the cells in your body. 

*My friend, do not conflate my bottle of CBD oil with "Body Vibes" body stickers. They are not at all equivalent, except for the fact that they are available for purchase in the Year of Our Lord 2019.

Blood is thicker than water

I was thinking about health today, and growing older, and drinking water or forgetting to. My parents are such good water-drinkers — it's part of their routine to get glasses of water before bed, and if I were an excellent host I'd always leave a carafe of freshly filtered water by their bed when they come to visit.*

Anyway, I was just drinking some water and thinking about water and dehydration and realizing that lately every time I realize suddenly that I haven't been drinking enough water, I think of this one phlebotomist who was disappointed in me because I was dehydrated and she couldn't find a good vein. But...phlebotomists love me, I thought. How can this be possible? "When did you last drink water?" she asked me, frowning. I was instructed to fast for twelve hours, so it had been twelve hours since I drank water. Still, I felt I'd let her down, and vowed never to disappoint another phlebotomist again.






*Note to self: add carafe to wish list. Also, filter. 

Sixteen

According to my acupuncturers (I know, I just wanted to write that), I should be eating warm foods, roasted vegetables (especially orange-colored ones), whole grains, ginger tea. Drinking plenty of water, but not cold water and not during meals. I start off each day with a healthy bowl of oatmeal, but things go awry soon after. Still, in the Digestive Wars, I feel that I currently have the upper hand (is it me vs. bad bacteria? Or me vs. my very own small intestine?).

More on lying liars! Joanna brought my attention to this episode of This American Life. It's called "Hoaxing Yourself," and it's chock full of people who lie for odd and complex reasons. The guy who pretends to be British/believes he is British reminds me of the time, in my 20s, I met a British nanny who seemed really familiar, and eventually I remembered briefly meeting her my sophomore year of college, in Wellesley, Massachusetts, when she was most definitely not British.

The most interesting story to me, though, is the "Rent" fan who faked being terminally ill--factitious disorder!

I have gone back several times to read this story, of a young woman who faked cancer for months. It's absolutely fascinating, in part because she did this so successfully in person (not just online, which is weirdly common), and also because she didn't do it for financial gain--or any real gain that makes any sense. Attention, I guess, and in her case, connection with someone who actually was (physically) sick.

Then there's the aspect of factitious disease, particularly Munchausen by Proxy, that's hideously sexist, focused as it tends to be on women, particularly mothers. It's a little "hysteria," circa 1800, really. But still, incredibly interesting.

Hey There Lonely Boy

He waited for friends on the beach this morning, but it was just so cold. First there were some dogs that are a little standoffish (to them, he's just a pup, and they growl a warning when they see him galumphing toward them). Then he was overjoyed to see a real puppy he's met before, but she was just leaving and he only had a chance to tumble and roll her across the sand for about five minutes. Also, her owner said, "Oh, Gus. We know Gus. He likes to hump her."

Did I mention how cold it was? Better twenty minutes of beach than no beach at all, I say.

Did I mention that I'm on a doctor-prescribed diet in an attempt to cure my irritable innards? No, I'm sure I didn't because that is the most boring subject ever in the whole history of the world. I am trying to look at it all glass-half-full, but I can't help but note that many of the things I can't eat right now are the things that sustain me, normally: garlic, onions, beans, soy, wheat, honey, apples, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, mushrooms... Yep, pretty bad. I only mention it because I had a funny dream that involved the Wii game Just Dance, some characters from American Horror Story: COVEN, and me devouring a falafel sandwich like an animal. I mean, just shoving it in my mouth, gobbling it so fast that by the time, in my dream, that I realized I was eating at least two forbidden foods (wheat, chickpeas), it was far too late.