I saw my P.A. today. It is indeed a repeat of what I had two weeks ago (oh lucky me!). I have 5 days of antibiotics and orders to come back in a week to be tested to make sure the evilness is gone. Meanwhile, I’m downing the cranberry juice (and trying to resist the temptation to add some vodka to it) and eating yogurt.

PT starts tomorrow. I’m seeing more of the clinic than I’m seeing of almost any other place besides the parsonage.

My unpleasantness has returned with a vengeance and I’ll be seeing someone at my local clinic tomorrow. I swear… my P.A. is probably sick of seeing me by now as I’ve seen him at least weekly for the last month or so.

Lift up some high holy hands that they can put me on something that will knock the bad stuff out of my body, OK?

MeanDean is asking for fireworks stories so here’s mine:

When I was in 4th grade, a friend of ours brought us back some fireworks from Tennessee. In the package were all these types that weren’t allowed in California and we took turns setting them off on our (very well-saturated) lawn. The first time we lit a firecracker, we forgot to make sure that the cats were in the house and my mom’s cantankerous crimson cat Bessie decided to play with the firecracker. We were trying to figure out how to get her out of the way before it exploded and thankfully, her little paw batted out the fuse completely so we didn’t end up with an exploded cat. From that point forward, we *ALWAYS* made sure to sequester the cats.