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I don't like doctors.

Not the people, per se. In fact, the medical experts with whom I have carried conversations not dependent on doctor/patient confidentiality have been pretty cool at times. And I love "Grey's Anatomy."

I don't like doctors when they're within the constraints of that confidentiality. With me. Which is why I don't consult with them as often as perhaps I should.

And then there's today.

TWO appointments. One very, very necessary, as I'm about ready to start reading Braille (who needs new contacts? I'd say me, but I'd have to squint to see the right keys on the keyboard. No, not really. But close). The other a little scarier prior, much less annoying after the fact.

(N directed me to a post on Dooce while she was visiting me this weekend, where Heather describes an episode involving a bump on the arm named Ed. It turned out to be basal cell carcinoma - as she put it, "The Most Common of All Cancers." I have a similar bump on my arm. I proceded to channel the darkest of my dark sense of humor to laugh it off as I frantically scheduled an appointment with a dermatologist to find out what I'm dealing with here.)

I'm getting ready to hopefully see the light of day once again (again, I'm being overly dramatic, but what can you do?), and I'm thrilled to report that I was able to text N today with "I will live to rock out another day."

The doctor didn't seem to get it when I explained the good of the Internet, prompting me to check out something that I'd read about. Just to be informed and on the safe side.

I might as well have told him that I read online that Martians had landed in Helsinki. That old, familiar "ah, she's an Internet hypochonrdiac" eye glaze over.

Harumph.

So yes. I'm well aware of all the good they can do for me and the relief they can provide?

I still don't like doctors.

Catching up

When a lot of activity is crushed into a short period of time, it proves tricky to sort it all out in proper chronological order. It winds up getting all mixed up and coming off something like this:

I answered the phone with "I haven't been so happy to see your state in a loooooong time" and then realized we may or may not be in the same bar/restaurant as a couple of Red Sox players. Which is funny, because I was indignantly debating just what losing Mike Lowell would do to wreak havoc on the current Red Sox dynamic. I ordered us another round of the special on tap as I realized that this version of "Stop the Bus" was crazy differnt than the song I'd fallen in love with last year - but this version was still pretty amazing. T accompanied us on our walk to the car, and the show was over just as I finally realized that I'd had more to drink over the course of the night than I'd realized. I smiled as I heard piano playing in the other room, and I was busy packing slices of pineapple and red pepper pizza into a takeaway box as N was informed that she leads a double life as Hazel Mae. As I lay on my temporary bed, I became certain that the fan would cool me as long as I stayed as still as humanly possible. An emergency of some sort forced me to take a detour and get lost before I droped a cool, damp washcloth over my forehead and eyes, dozing for an hour before I headed off to catch my train.

Many thanks to the fabulous individuals who contributed to the jumble - the time there proved to be precisely what I'd been needing.

From about Wednesday on, the days have all proven extraordinarily random, but in a pleasant sort of way. Faced with surprises at seemingly every turn, I've decided to temporarily abandon my perfectionistic ways and just go with it.

So far? It's working out well.