Two years ago today, I woke up early. I got my nails done. I had my hair and makeup done. I fasted. I prayed the special mincha (afternoon prayers) for Yom Kippur. I had my picture taken dozens of times.
Oh, and I got to take Yaakov home at the end of the evening!
It's been a great two years, and I can feel that this is only the very beginning.
triLcat talks about literature, writing, life in Israel, and some nonsense.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Kinneret Milestones
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Catching Up Memes
Ten Things I Don't Get
Ten Things You'll Never Hear Me Say
- Why it's seriously hot in the middle of March. I'm wearing a t-shirt and sweating bullets
- How to do Mill's Mess
- Why Kinneret is all smiley one day and then can't stop crying the next.
- Pain - it just doesn't make any sense to me. Trust me, I know that I bashed my head against the wall, even if it doesn't hurt.
- Why anyone would claim that skirts are more modest than pants!
- Why some people can't just be nice and they have to try to burst my bubble when I'm happy.
- Why I can't make cream of celery soup that tastes as good as the canned stuff.
- What motivates a person to shoot a bunch of teenagers having dinner.
- What motivates a person to send a missile into a civilian area that poses no threat.
- Why the international press chooses to claim that missile launchers are victims, while those who try to destroy them are attackers?
Ten Things You'll Never Hear Me Say
- Rami Kleinstein can't play piano.
- Yaakov is so superficial.
- This is too big a steak for me.
- Could you please move to a talk-radio station?
- I'd love to go for a jog. And after that, maybe you'll let me wash your floor.
- I've gotta get out of the country for Yom Haatzmaut.
- Shlomo Artzi is playing Tzavta? And you have an extra ticket? No thanks, I'm not a big fan.
- I'm glad they stopped Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It wasn't a good show anyway.
- I loved college. It was a great social scene.
- I'm not a big fan of desserts.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Globbing the Globe
A certain Princess but not Princess Kinneret Kangaroo has requested that people around the globe glob for charity. With such a great cause, I supposed I must help the war effort.
So here is my Glob post.
I have no clue what to say on a glob post, although I suppose a purim-related post could be appropriate. Purim is an interesting holiday. It celebrates how they tried to kill us and we won, so we should eat. ActuallyHaman tried to kill us, and Esther risked life and limb to save all of Am Yisrael.
It's pretty neat how one person managed to save a whole nation. She got stuck in this freaky situation where she was forced to marry a king, and she was basically not much more than a concubine. But not only she managed to make it work, she saved her whole nation.
I think there's something to be learned from that - that you can actually improve the world even from a crazy awful situation.
So I guess I glob with Esther.
So here is my Glob post.
I have no clue what to say on a glob post, although I suppose a purim-related post could be appropriate. Purim is an interesting holiday. It celebrates how they tried to kill us and we won, so we should eat. Actually
It's pretty neat how one person managed to save a whole nation. She got stuck in this freaky situation where she was forced to marry a king, and she was basically not much more than a concubine. But not only she managed to make it work, she saved her whole nation.
I think there's something to be learned from that - that you can actually improve the world even from a crazy awful situation.
So I guess I glob with Esther.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Head in a cage. Flaming redhead. Baby spew.
Yes, this is another migraine-related post...
On Wednesday, I had a doctor's appointment at Malcha Mall in Jerusalem. My parents graciously offered to take me to the mall and wait with Kinneret.
The neurologist said that my EEG looks normal and that it basically rules out an electrical problem in my brain. She didn't have much else to say about that. So, with my appointment scheduled for 10:30, after a 20-minute wait, I was back at the shopping level of the mall before 11am. My parents treated me to a cup of coffee (vanilla) at Cafe Hillel, and then we began to explore the mall.
First, we checked out the special "nursing room" in the food court restroom area. Turns out that they have a really good changing table there, which Kinneret and I tested out. Then my mom decided to have a medallion made with Kinneret's face on it. It didn't come out great. Oh well.
Then we went on a search for booties for Kinneret. Let me tell you folks, it is hard to find decent booties at a decent price. After searching pretty much every single store in the mall, we finally found two cute pairs of booties, which I bought for Miss Kinneret. It turned out that one was too small, so we're sending that pair to her newest cousin in Toronto, Caylie. They're very nice and very warm, so I hope Caylie (and her parents) will like them.
After an exhausting search for booties (not booty), we decided to take a look at Toys R Us to see if they had anything cool. I ended up buying a very cute red wig, which I love! Everyone else thinks it's silly.
Thursday was the day of my MRI. I didn't sleep well Wednesday night, because I was nervous about it. I've seen MRI on tv, and it looks a bit unpleasant - your whole body is put into a tunnel and all. My parents couldn't take me because it's a total disaster to park at Hadassah Ein Kerem, and besides, what would they do with Kinneret while I was beingtortured tested. So I took a bus and then a taxi to get there.
So I arrived at the hospital, and immediately went to the MRI area to get all the paperwork taken care of. Then I decided to look around. I went down some hallways that smelled pretty weird, and finally discovered a staff cafeteria. Since the smell was nauseating, I decided to forgo lunch there. Then I went down another hallway and found myself surrounded by medical students. I felt distinctly wrong there, so I went back to the MRI clinic area, and waited, looking at magazines and regretting my choice of book. I had brought A Beautiful Mind with me, but as I started to read it, it looked kinda boring.
Finally, it was my turn. They told me to put my stuff in what looked like a changing room, and double checked to make sure that I didn't have a hair band with metal on it or any jewelry. I changed from a jeans skirt into pajama pants, and wore a loose snood on my head. Then they told me to wait for the doctor.
Then the doctor, kinda out of nowhere, told me that I needed an IV line. So I sat there and let him put one in. I have a pretty serious fear of needles, but I can manage when I need to.
Then another doctor took me to the MRI room. He told me to lie on the table, with
my head on the headrest. All good so far. Then he gave me headphones. I asked "Are these for music?" and he said "yes." Then he closed a cage around my head, put what felt like the bulb of a sphygmomanometer in my right hand, and told me that if I panicked, I could press down on that. That's it - no explanation of anything, and then he turned on the machine, which raised me and stuffed me into the tunnel. So there I am, with a cage over my head, in a tunnel, and guess what? It's not music. It's noise. I mean noise like sirens and buzzing and tapping. All kinds of noises which are supposed to stimulate my brain in a variety of ways.
As if this wasn't bad enough, I have a cold, and (roll over this text if you're not easily grossed out) -- fluid from my nose started dripping to the back of my throat -and I felt like I was suffocating.
So imagine, if you will, lying in a tunnel, with your head in a cage, listening to sounds of increasing loudness, and suffocating because you can't really clear your throat while lying on your back. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see the cage. I tried to imagine that I was in my bed.
Then the technician/doctor/whoever came in and injected something into the IV. Of course, I couldn't SEE anything, and I couldn't hear him walk in either because of the headset, so all of a sudden, I feel something being injected. I asked him how much longer, and he said ten minutes.
Ten minutes. I couldn't imagine spending another ten minutes like that, but I didn't want to hit the panic button either. So I started counting to sixty slowly in my head. The noises got louder again, until I couldn't hear myself thinking each number out loud. I tried over and over to clear my throat. I tried to relax my body. I felt my arms shaking during some of the sounds. They shook of their own accord, and I couldn't stop the shaking. I counted slowly to sixty again. I thought of stray songs that I used to like. I coughed a few times. I counted again to sixty, slowly.
I lost my place around thirty, when a random song snuck into my head. I forced myself to continue counting, going on from thirty. I felt like all the air was gone from my lungs. The sounds got louder, shriller. The table shook violently as if it were having a seizure. I tried desperately to clear my lungs in the fourth slow, steady count. I listened to the sounds, trying to understand what they were doing to my brain. I counted another sixty, trying desperately to hold on to the numbers, keep them going, one number after the other. I opened my eyes, saw the cage again, thought about pressing the button, and forced myself to keep counting. I closed my eyes again.
Three minutes to go. Just three minutes. I couldn't count them anymore. I couldn't think of anything anymore. I opened my eyes. I closed my eyes. I cleared my throat, I took deep breaths, feeling my chest and abdomen fill with air. I started to count again. I couldn't focus. I got as far as three before my mind wandered. I thought that I had to count. I had to know. And while I was thinking this, everything stopped. The noises stopped. The shaking stopped, everything. And then I was pulled out of the tunnel. The cage was removed from my face, and I was told to stand. I couldn't.
I couldn't stand up at all at first. The doctor or technician or whatever he was had to help me up. He had to steady me. He had to help me get out of this room. I followed him back to the room where they'd put in the IV, and he gently, slowly, ripped the tape off of the IV. It was so painful. My whole body was shaking, and I was thirsty, so thirsty I thought I'd die. Finally, it was done. I held the cotton ball on the injection site, got my purse, went outside to wait for them to give me a cd with the images of my brain.
I'm afraid I'll have to stop now to get ready for Shabbat, so you'll hear about baby spew some other time.
Shabbat Shalom, all.
t.c.
On Wednesday, I had a doctor's appointment at Malcha Mall in Jerusalem. My parents graciously offered to take me to the mall and wait with Kinneret.
The neurologist said that my EEG looks normal and that it basically rules out an electrical problem in my brain. She didn't have much else to say about that. So, with my appointment scheduled for 10:30, after a 20-minute wait, I was back at the shopping level of the mall before 11am. My parents treated me to a cup of coffee (vanilla) at Cafe Hillel, and then we began to explore the mall.
First, we checked out the special "nursing room" in the food court restroom area. Turns out that they have a really good changing table there, which Kinneret and I tested out. Then my mom decided to have a medallion made with Kinneret's face on it. It didn't come out great. Oh well.
Then we went on a search for booties for Kinneret. Let me tell you folks, it is hard to find decent booties at a decent price. After searching pretty much every single store in the mall, we finally found two cute pairs of booties, which I bought for Miss Kinneret. It turned out that one was too small, so we're sending that pair to her newest cousin in Toronto, Caylie. They're very nice and very warm, so I hope Caylie (and her parents) will like them.
After an exhausting search for booties (not booty), we decided to take a look at Toys R Us to see if they had anything cool. I ended up buying a very cute red wig, which I love! Everyone else thinks it's silly.
Thursday was the day of my MRI. I didn't sleep well Wednesday night, because I was nervous about it. I've seen MRI on tv, and it looks a bit unpleasant - your whole body is put into a tunnel and all. My parents couldn't take me because it's a total disaster to park at Hadassah Ein Kerem, and besides, what would they do with Kinneret while I was being
So I arrived at the hospital, and immediately went to the MRI area to get all the paperwork taken care of. Then I decided to look around. I went down some hallways that smelled pretty weird, and finally discovered a staff cafeteria. Since the smell was nauseating, I decided to forgo lunch there. Then I went down another hallway and found myself surrounded by medical students. I felt distinctly wrong there, so I went back to the MRI clinic area, and waited, looking at magazines and regretting my choice of book. I had brought A Beautiful Mind with me, but as I started to read it, it looked kinda boring.
Finally, it was my turn. They told me to put my stuff in what looked like a changing room, and double checked to make sure that I didn't have a hair band with metal on it or any jewelry. I changed from a jeans skirt into pajama pants, and wore a loose snood on my head. Then they told me to wait for the doctor.
Then the doctor, kinda out of nowhere, told me that I needed an IV line. So I sat there and let him put one in. I have a pretty serious fear of needles, but I can manage when I need to.
Then another doctor took me to the MRI room. He told me to lie on the table, with
As if this wasn't bad enough, I have a cold, and (roll over this text if you're not easily grossed out) -- fluid from my nose started dripping to the back of my throat -and I felt like I was suffocating.
So imagine, if you will, lying in a tunnel, with your head in a cage, listening to sounds of increasing loudness, and suffocating because you can't really clear your throat while lying on your back. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see the cage. I tried to imagine that I was in my bed.
Then the technician/doctor/whoever came in and injected something into the IV. Of course, I couldn't SEE anything, and I couldn't hear him walk in either because of the headset, so all of a sudden, I feel something being injected. I asked him how much longer, and he said ten minutes.
Ten minutes. I couldn't imagine spending another ten minutes like that, but I didn't want to hit the panic button either. So I started counting to sixty slowly in my head. The noises got louder again, until I couldn't hear myself thinking each number out loud. I tried over and over to clear my throat. I tried to relax my body. I felt my arms shaking during some of the sounds. They shook of their own accord, and I couldn't stop the shaking. I counted slowly to sixty again. I thought of stray songs that I used to like. I coughed a few times. I counted again to sixty, slowly.
I lost my place around thirty, when a random song snuck into my head. I forced myself to continue counting, going on from thirty. I felt like all the air was gone from my lungs. The sounds got louder, shriller. The table shook violently as if it were having a seizure. I tried desperately to clear my lungs in the fourth slow, steady count. I listened to the sounds, trying to understand what they were doing to my brain. I counted another sixty, trying desperately to hold on to the numbers, keep them going, one number after the other. I opened my eyes, saw the cage again, thought about pressing the button, and forced myself to keep counting. I closed my eyes again.
Three minutes to go. Just three minutes. I couldn't count them anymore. I couldn't think of anything anymore. I opened my eyes. I closed my eyes. I cleared my throat, I took deep breaths, feeling my chest and abdomen fill with air. I started to count again. I couldn't focus. I got as far as three before my mind wandered. I thought that I had to count. I had to know. And while I was thinking this, everything stopped. The noises stopped. The shaking stopped, everything. And then I was pulled out of the tunnel. The cage was removed from my face, and I was told to stand. I couldn't.
I couldn't stand up at all at first. The doctor or technician or whatever he was had to help me up. He had to steady me. He had to help me get out of this room. I followed him back to the room where they'd put in the IV, and he gently, slowly, ripped the tape off of the IV. It was so painful. My whole body was shaking, and I was thirsty, so thirsty I thought I'd die. Finally, it was done. I held the cotton ball on the injection site, got my purse, went outside to wait for them to give me a cd with the images of my brain.
I'm afraid I'll have to stop now to get ready for Shabbat, so you'll hear about baby spew some other time.
Shabbat Shalom, all.
t.c.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Hold the Hijab, Please
I noticed myself ranting and raving over in Mother In Israel's blog comments. Over the course of several posts, she translates (and comments on) the Maariv article, Neshot HaRealah (women of the veil). The article discusses a disturbing new cult in which a "rebbetzin" (I put it in quotes because I've heard no evidence that her husband is a rabbi) wears ten layers and covers her face with a veil for the purpose of modesty.
People all over the Jewish blogging world (Mother In Israel has a list here) are taking a stand on the subject. Instead of leaving my comments on every single blog out there, here are my feelings...
The "rebbetzin" has said that women should cover their whole body, including the face, and she (for 'religious' reasons) does not speak except for four hours a week. She rarely goes out, and encourages her followers not to speak to men, get into a taxi driven by a man, or even go into a shop when there is a man inside.
Here's my main argument:
Judaism is about living in harmony with the world, not about living outside it.
Throughout the Torah, we are told how to experience but harness our animalistic side. We are supposed to taste the food, but make a bracha (blessing) to remember where it came from. We are supposed to enjoy making love, but only with our spouse. Even if we fall in love with a captive of war, we may marry her, but only when we are convinced that it is true love and not the heat of the moment.
We're supposed to search for the balance and the way to make even the most mundane things spiritually holy.
Putting my baby to bed at night is made holy by saying shema for her. Waking my husband in the morning is made holy by washing hands and helping him get organized to put on tfillin. My husband's work in a mundane job is made holy by the tzedaka he gives from his salary, and the home that he supports. Even my husband's hobby of juggling is made holy by the fact that he uses it to entertain sick children, to bring joy to Purim at our shul, and for sukkot to remind people of the simchat beit hashoeva.
Even grocery shopping is holy when you think about your Shabbat table, the guests you want to please, and the joy you bring to your spouse by preparing something they like.
Heck, even going to the bathroom is part of a holy ritual in which we give thanks to G-d for making our bodies function as they should!
So please, "rebbetzin" stop hiding from the world, and learn to live in it.
People all over the Jewish blogging world (Mother In Israel has a list here) are taking a stand on the subject. Instead of leaving my comments on every single blog out there, here are my feelings...
The "rebbetzin" has said that women should cover their whole body, including the face, and she (for 'religious' reasons) does not speak except for four hours a week. She rarely goes out, and encourages her followers not to speak to men, get into a taxi driven by a man, or even go into a shop when there is a man inside.
Here's my main argument:
Judaism is about living in harmony with the world, not about living outside it.
Throughout the Torah, we are told how to experience but harness our animalistic side. We are supposed to taste the food, but make a bracha (blessing) to remember where it came from. We are supposed to enjoy making love, but only with our spouse. Even if we fall in love with a captive of war, we may marry her, but only when we are convinced that it is true love and not the heat of the moment.
We're supposed to search for the balance and the way to make even the most mundane things spiritually holy.
Putting my baby to bed at night is made holy by saying shema for her. Waking my husband in the morning is made holy by washing hands and helping him get organized to put on tfillin. My husband's work in a mundane job is made holy by the tzedaka he gives from his salary, and the home that he supports. Even my husband's hobby of juggling is made holy by the fact that he uses it to entertain sick children, to bring joy to Purim at our shul, and for sukkot to remind people of the simchat beit hashoeva.
Even grocery shopping is holy when you think about your Shabbat table, the guests you want to please, and the joy you bring to your spouse by preparing something they like.
Heck, even going to the bathroom is part of a holy ritual in which we give thanks to G-d for making our bodies function as they should!
So please, "rebbetzin" stop hiding from the world, and learn to live in it.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Quick Update
People seem to be worrying about my head. Thanks, people. It's much better, b/c of the Maronil (Anafronil). It still hurts most of the time, but at a livable level. There should be results from my EEG, but I haven't heard from the doctor who should have the results.
I have an appointment with her in two weeks, but I think I'll ask my doctor to give her a call. I don't think she'll speak to me, but she'll speak to him, and I really think that two weeks is a long time to wait for test results that have already been processed.
In other news, Kinneret and Yaakov both have colds. I took Kinneret to the doctor today, and he said not to worry too much. So we put a humidifier in her room to help her breathe more easily, and we're just going to wait it out.
These days, doctors don't give any symptomatic relief for cold symptoms for children under 2, because some new research showed that it could be dangerous... so poor Kinneret is miserable. I hope she gets better soon!
And finally, I'm now swimming 56 lengths (1.4km) each time I swim, and I'm down 4.5 kilograms!
I have an appointment with her in two weeks, but I think I'll ask my doctor to give her a call. I don't think she'll speak to me, but she'll speak to him, and I really think that two weeks is a long time to wait for test results that have already been processed.
In other news, Kinneret and Yaakov both have colds. I took Kinneret to the doctor today, and he said not to worry too much. So we put a humidifier in her room to help her breathe more easily, and we're just going to wait it out.
These days, doctors don't give any symptomatic relief for cold symptoms for children under 2, because some new research showed that it could be dangerous... so poor Kinneret is miserable. I hope she gets better soon!
And finally, I'm now swimming 56 lengths (1.4km) each time I swim, and I'm down 4.5 kilograms!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Could be Better
After a week of relative calm on the head front, today I was dizzy and headachey and had trouble focusing my eyes.
My EEG has been rescheduled for Sunday, next week. Just means more time until we can give a guess at what's going on. I'm quite frustrated, needless to say.
I have to wait two days to even find out when my MRI is.
I haven't called Rabbi Firrer yet. I just don't... I don't know what I'd even ask at this point.
Thanks everyone for the continuing good wishes.
t.c.
My EEG has been rescheduled for Sunday, next week. Just means more time until we can give a guess at what's going on. I'm quite frustrated, needless to say.
I have to wait two days to even find out when my MRI is.
I haven't called Rabbi Firrer yet. I just don't... I don't know what I'd even ask at this point.
Thanks everyone for the continuing good wishes.
t.c.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Goodman Look-alike Meter
Update on My Head
Just a quick update.
My head is feeling somewhat better.
I saw a new neuro on Sunday, and will be having my EEG on Monday next week.
I'm awaiting approval for an MRI.
What joy.
My head is feeling somewhat better.
I saw a new neuro on Sunday, and will be having my EEG on Monday next week.
I'm awaiting approval for an MRI.
What joy.
Monday, January 07, 2008
7 Weird Things About Me Meme
1. I have hyperflexibility, which means that even when I don't exercise, I can touch my toes to my forehead.
2. I started using email when I was 10, back in 1988.
3. For about a year in high school, I walked around talking to my deceased friend in my head. I sometimes thought he answered me, and once or twice I even felt him. Sometimes, I still wonder if it was all in my mind. I mean, logic says it is, but I really felt something back then.
4. I have nightmares about being trapped underwater or in places with very small openings. I'm not afraid of elevators or other "ordinary" small places. I did have to leave the heart exhibit at the Franklin Institute though - I wasn't 100% sure I could fit through all the tunnels while pregnant and it scared me a bit. I also get upset when I can't get off jewelry or clothes.
5. I didn't pay much attention to my body ever, and still don't. I found out that I was fat because I saw myself in a picture and suddenly I realized I was fat. In the mirror, I still looked ok to me.
6. I don't use woodcase pencils because I'm too tempted to chew on them. I only like 1.1mm lead mechanical pencils. (normal is .7 or .5)
7. I once went to a palm reader. She was wrong about everything she said about me.
I think I'm not gonna tag anyone, but if you want to do it, feel free.
2. I started using email when I was 10, back in 1988.
3. For about a year in high school, I walked around talking to my deceased friend in my head. I sometimes thought he answered me, and once or twice I even felt him. Sometimes, I still wonder if it was all in my mind. I mean, logic says it is, but I really felt something back then.
4. I have nightmares about being trapped underwater or in places with very small openings. I'm not afraid of elevators or other "ordinary" small places. I did have to leave the heart exhibit at the Franklin Institute though - I wasn't 100% sure I could fit through all the tunnels while pregnant and it scared me a bit. I also get upset when I can't get off jewelry or clothes.
5. I didn't pay much attention to my body ever, and still don't. I found out that I was fat because I saw myself in a picture and suddenly I realized I was fat. In the mirror, I still looked ok to me.
6. I don't use woodcase pencils because I'm too tempted to chew on them. I only like 1.1mm lead mechanical pencils. (normal is .7 or .5)
7. I once went to a palm reader. She was wrong about everything she said about me.
I think I'm not gonna tag anyone, but if you want to do it, feel free.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Curiousity Gagged the Cat
I was in a shop recently when I saw a product called Sappe. It's a drink which is kind of in the flavored-water category. That is, less sweet than juice and with no color. What's unique about Sappe is that it has cubes of aloe vera in it. I asked the shopkeeper whether he'd gotten any feedback on this new and interesting drink, which comes in a very appealing bottle. He said it's wonderful. So I shelled out my eight shekels (a bit over $2 for those of you keeping score in the US), and bought this drink. The apple-water part was fine, though not as good as the Neviot plus Apple water that I love. Then I got my first aloe vera cube.
Let me tell you folks. Aloe vera is great for cuts and scrapes. It moistens the skin. It's fantastic for burns and sunburns. It tastes TERRIBLE! When I looked up the supposed benefits, the only one that is confirmed is that it's a mild laxative... Nobody mentioned that it could also be an emetic... ugh!
However, curiosity remains rampant in the little walnut that passes for my brain. A while ago, I had blood work that showed that my body hasn't fully replenished the iron supply since K was born, so a doctor recommended that I go back to taking an iron-folic acid supplement.
The one that my kuppa (health fund) produces and promotes is called folliferrin and comes in gelcaps.
You guessed it. I had to bite in and taste it. UGH! It tasted like very concentrated RUST (which may be what it is). It actually made me throw up. I'm not the type to be put off by anything, but this was... oh boy... big mistake. EWWWWW. I have learned my lesson.
Now I just want to find out what happens when I lick the pump handle on a snowy day...
Let me tell you folks. Aloe vera is great for cuts and scrapes. It moistens the skin. It's fantastic for burns and sunburns. It tastes TERRIBLE! When I looked up the supposed benefits, the only one that is confirmed is that it's a mild laxative... Nobody mentioned that it could also be an emetic... ugh!
However, curiosity remains rampant in the little walnut that passes for my brain. A while ago, I had blood work that showed that my body hasn't fully replenished the iron supply since K was born, so a doctor recommended that I go back to taking an iron-folic acid supplement.
The one that my kuppa (health fund) produces and promotes is called folliferrin and comes in gelcaps.
You guessed it. I had to bite in and taste it. UGH! It tasted like very concentrated RUST (which may be what it is). It actually made me throw up. I'm not the type to be put off by anything, but this was... oh boy... big mistake. EWWWWW. I have learned my lesson.
Now I just want to find out what happens when I lick the pump handle on a snowy day...
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
There's no Place Like Home... Which is Where I Am
So I'm back home already.
That's the good news. Now for the less good news.
They didn't do *ANYTHING*. I mean, they took my blood pressure and temp, and they drew some blood and ran some tests, but they didn't do anything I haven't had done in the past ten days.
They did recommend maronil, a medication from the tricyclic antidepressant group - which is the same group as the pamelor that Ladyhawke mentioned in my last post's comments. The less nifty part of that is that there's no guarantee it'll work, and it will take at least a week before I could possibly feel any improvement.
I went back to my doctor this evening (after spending 6 hours in the E.R. at Ein Kerem, most of which were spent waiting for the neurologist.) and he is looking into finding me a good neurologist that I can see on my health plan. Unfortunately, it'll probably be someone in Jerusalem, but at least it'll be someone... The neuro here in Modiin is a disaster!!!!
So in the meantime, I'm back on the paracetamol/codeine/caffeine medication and waiting again for the doctor to call...
Prayers are really welcome.
Leah Gavriela Bat Raizel Chaya
That's the good news. Now for the less good news.
They didn't do *ANYTHING*. I mean, they took my blood pressure and temp, and they drew some blood and ran some tests, but they didn't do anything I haven't had done in the past ten days.
They did recommend maronil, a medication from the tricyclic antidepressant group - which is the same group as the pamelor that Ladyhawke mentioned in my last post's comments. The less nifty part of that is that there's no guarantee it'll work, and it will take at least a week before I could possibly feel any improvement.
I went back to my doctor this evening (after spending 6 hours in the E.R. at Ein Kerem, most of which were spent waiting for the neurologist.) and he is looking into finding me a good neurologist that I can see on my health plan. Unfortunately, it'll probably be someone in Jerusalem, but at least it'll be someone... The neuro here in Modiin is a disaster!!!!
So in the meantime, I'm back on the paracetamol/codeine/caffeine medication and waiting again for the doctor to call...
Prayers are really welcome.
Leah Gavriela Bat Raizel Chaya
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