Jennifer the Amazing Human Pincushion: Round 3

Today marks the last day of 8-shot allergist visits. By the end of the day, I’ll have completed the rough equivalent of three months of allergy shots, all since last Wednesday.  And I’ll get to slow down to the more modest pace of four shots a week for the next month.

All I’m really trying to say is this better work.  Because if I’m going to walk around with a dozen bruises the size of needle punctures on my arms, I better see some results, dammit.

I should also mention that my appointment last Friday went exceedingly well, but I was so completely out of it that evening that I was stumbling around having really slow conversations with the Husband formerly known as Handsome, but not really finishing any of my sentences.  He says is was pathetic.  And hilarious.  I don’t really remember much.

Anyway, I blame it on the shots.  And the Benadryl I took afterward.

Rhythm, Grace, and Joy

“A drumset is a time machine, literally speaking—a machine for keeping time—though a drummer has to be the clockwork device to subdivide rhythm—to bring the time. In those days, I was not that drummer.” (Neil Peart, News, Weather, and Sports)

And the time machine sitting in my living room transports me to another world, one where sweating is a joy and mistakes a chance for a do-over.  Where nothing I do is wrong and the clockwork device holding the sticks is having more fun than anyone else in the room.  It’s sheer unadulterated, childlike joy, simple and incomprehensible.

“So today, think about what it is you need and were too embarrassed to ask for. And then go fucking do it. Wear a ball gown to the grocery store. Invite the neighbors to have a picnic on the front lawn. Get that novel out of your sock drawer and publish it yourself. Stand on a bus stop bench and belt out a song for the waiting strangers. Find a playground swing and remember how it felt to fly. Find your red dress. And wear the hell out of it.” (Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess)

I found my red dress.  And I’m beating the hell out of it.  Your turn.

Not So Dreadful After All

First set of allergy shots completed. And the Husband formerly known as Handsome surprised me with dinner on the grill and a big glass of wine, just for being brave.

me. brave.

That’s a hard thought to comprehend. Because I’m not brave. I’m afraid of the worst-case-scenario, and having been there, I know it is a very real possibility.

The memory of that incident induced stomach-churning, heart-racing anxiety that grew to nearly debilitating as the moment of truth approached.  In the afternoon, I drove to the clinic and submitted to four sets of shots, two in each arm, over the course of several hours. I came equipped with books, iPod, water, Diet Coke, power bar, and anything else I could think of to keep my mind off The Big Scary Thing.

And it worked. I got those shots and had no allergic reaction to them. And the fear and anxiety abated, at least for a little while. Hopefully, forever. Because I get to do this all again tomorrow.

Dread

(verb) to anticipate with great apprehension or fear.

Yep.  That’s the feeling.

Scheduled my first allergy shots for tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010, 1:30 PM.

Send love, prayers, and courage.

Life List #38: Grow a Kitchen Garden

Ok, I don’t know if I can really call tomatoes and herbs a kitchen garden.  Especially not when they’re in pots on the patio.  But, for the sake of progress on The List, I’m going to count these five little plants as a garden.

I’m officially growing cherry tomatoes, sweet basil, parsley, and rosemary – the things I use most frequently in my kitchen.  So there.

Pictures forthcoming.