When I posted that thing about the google pics, I wasn't quite thinking ahead that people would post such nice words to describe me. I thank you for your kindness.
I thank you for your grace, as well. Truly, I have been through the ringer these last month with my emotional and physical health. My ears and balance have been whacked, and I've been to several doctors. The first doctors said he thought I had Meniere's disease, which is a balance disorder that includes lifelong hearing loss and vertigo. Not funny enough. Second doctor said it was TMJ. Even less funny. Yesterday I pulled out the Big Guns and went to the House Ear Institute to get some real answers with doctors who genuinely know what goes on in an ear, nose, and throat beyond where to inject the Botox. I had a hearing test, and even though it feels muffled, I have NO HEARING LOSS. The lady that administered the test said my hearing was better than hers. Then I spoke to the doctor, who also lost her mother to cancer in June. She was very thorough and looked at my ears with a microscope and whatnot.
She determined that I don't have Meniere's because I would have had hearing loss by now. She feels that the problem is Eustachian Tube dysfunction of some kind (either viral or allergic, not sure) that is putting pressure on my ear drums from the inside. She gave me a steroidal nasal spray and told me I was stressed and to come back in two months. Big freakin surprise. But I take this diagnosis with glee. I'm sure you've all had those Big Unexplainable Illnesses in your time, that threaten to destroy your very being and then just dissapate. Stress is a bootch.
The main, real point is, I asked for a Healing, and I do believe I'm getting it. I asked for comfort in a universe that stopped making sense to me, and I've gotten it. I told myself I would not give in to this, and I didn't. I offer all thanks to you who love me and put your healing hands on my spirit. I felt it.
To combat the hours of dizzy/ear pain/craptasticness, David and I have been watching Jem. Well, at first I made him watch it. But now he is addicted, WA HA HA! I'm surprised, actually, at how it holds up after all these years. I am glad my fond memories weren't based on total tripe. The whole Jem/Jerrica dilemma is an archetypal problem for every woman: do I reveal to him that the hologram-projected rockstar girl in the hooker clothing is actually ME, or do I keep my nicegirl record company owner persona seperate? I struggle with this every day.
...and I just called my boss, whose name is Darcy...DARKY. I'm going to hell.
I KNEW IT!
*big fat mwah! to you*
That is not *terrific* news, but it is good news, and I know that I wanted to thwak the GI doctor who told me that I had to do something about my stress (me thinking: "Thwak! If I were better at that, I wouldn't be here, would i?") On the other hand, it got me to quit smoking, which eventually cured me. So there ya go. For something, anyway.
I'm seriously thinking yoga for you, girl. Seriously.
And your boss is nothing. The man has a name like Darcy and still dared to buy a golf cart to drive around a studio lot, for goddessakes. Dismiss him.