Well, I have been taking some time off, but only because I am gearing up for the next great explosion of posts brought to you from Munich, Germany. We are leaving tomorrow by train for a relaxing and might I add less expensive trip than if by air. Our scheduled return is November 7th in the evening, so I will be blogging along the way. Photos will have to come later, as my netbook doesn’t have a photo reader and I just don’t want to carry the external one with me.
In anticipation for all of this fun and excitement I have been keeping busy otherwise. I have been dong a lot of running lately. I had to run to the house doctor who had me run to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist, who had me run to get a CT scan. Then when I ran back to the house doctor, she said my sugar levels were high so she wanted me to run over to the hospital for a glucose tolerance test. I thought exercise was good for maintaining sugar levels.
So I ran over to the hospital after running to the pharmacy for my glucose powder. I had to go equipped with the powder, water, and a bottle to mix it. My friend Lazslo went with to keep me company. I wasn’t looking forward to this as the last time I went, the phlebotomist attacked my arm like it was a snake ready to attack her. After getting stabbed with the needle, I had a bruise the size of California.
When I went into the room, it was a different woman that motioned for me to sit in the chair. She smiled and said soothing things that I didn’t understand, which really could have been anything. She could have been pouring her heart out or calling me a dirty rotten buzzard, but a smile makes all the difference. There are certain times when events make me think of my mother. This is one of those times. One of her favorite monologues was “What do you want from me, blood? Here’s my arm. Go ahead, drain me dry.” So very Italian, go for the jugular of guilt right off so everyone backs off fast. My blood was drained, I had to drink the sugary goop, and then sit still for two hours. This was here Lazslo was a real help in passing the time.
After the two hours passed, I had to get jabbed again. The nice lady was gone. The Budapest thrasher from the last time was back. She gave me a smile, drawing me into a false sense of security, and then started in on her Anthony Perkins impression of Psycho. Thrash, thrash, thrash. My arm looks like a long eggplant.
The results of the test were supposed to be back to my house doctor by Thursday, but I haven’t gone back yet. Why spoil a vacation? Yesterday, I went for the CT scan. That test result will not be back until next week, so I will get both when we return and Munich is just a pleasant memory.