I've been feeling kind of whiny and negative lately, and made a commitment yesterday to be more positive in my blog posts. So of course, I'm here today to complain.
I had an appointment with my Rheumatologist this afternoon. During the appointment she reviewed my meds with me, and asked why I was taking Lyrica. What do you mean, why am I taking Lyrica? You prescribed it to me. Don't you know? I left the office with a prescription for another short course of Prednisone, even though she just put me on one about 6 weeks ago. I was hoping to walk out of there with some new treatment or dosage change or something to help me get through the work day and allow me to go back to work full time. I might as well not have gone at all.
And just to make my day a little brighter, the toilet's broken and it won't stop running. I called to report it an hour ago, and no one has shown up yet to fix it. I'm beginning to wonder who's dog I ran over in a past life.
There was one bright spot in my day though. I had lunch with my best friend, who I hadn't seen in ages. I confessed to her something that I haven't admitted here yet. (At least, I don't think so. Gotta love the memory like a sieve.) I've been thinking, in a very vague "gee, wouldn't it be nice" kind of way, that maybe I'd sort of, kind of, like to try dating again. Maybe. To put this in perspective, the last time I went on a date we watched the first Harry Potter movie. In the theater. When I expressed my nerves at the thought, she pointed out that guys are people, too, and dating is really just two people spending some time together. According to her, by that definition we were on a date right then! We decided that since I was wearing a new sweater with a lot of cleavage hanging out, and that we'd both complimented each other on our hair, it was a very successful date. Now I just need to try it with a boy. Yikes!
Update: The toilet's fixed! If only the solution to my health problems (or my love life) was so simple.