I thought my number was up at 5.15pm last night when my doctor rang me. I panicked that he was calling to say I needed to be rushed to hospital right away because my scans had shown I was on death’s door and it couldn’t wait until my appointment at 10.45am this morning.
But he seemed to just be ringing to check how I was going, which was weirdly nice of him, and was unaware that I was seeing him today to get my ultrasound results.
An awkward few minutes of conversation followed while I filled him in on my latest theories for why I don’t feel right, while simultaneously wondering if I was being charged for a phone consult. Anyways, before he hung up we agreed that I’m getting a referral for a coeliac test today.
If I’m not coeliac, I think I might be lactose and nut intolerant (among other things). But it’s all just Dr Google guesswork at the moment. I am constantly starving since giving up gluten and sugar and nuts and milk. And I don’t feel that much better, to be honest, although my face looks a bit less puffy.
Weirdly, the youngest seems to be having some of the same symptoms. Last night we were discussing the cramps we had on Sunday night and they seemed very similar, but I can’t for the life of me work out what we ate in common.
Anyways, enough about my medical issues … for the moment. I’m going to rewind to a blog post I wrote but didn’t publish because I had too much news to share about the State Skipping Championships.
(As an aside, the youngest was so exhausted and sore from the Championships that she begged not to go to school yesterday and asked me to tell the office … so I emailed them and said she was wrecked from getting 3 Gold Medals, 4 Silver and 1 Bronze and sent the photos from yesterday’s blog post. The school was very excited and promised to share the news widely. The youngest is going to KILL me when she finds out.)
I wrote the post because I needed to get the negative thoughts out of me. I find typing things down very therapeutic.
Friday was not the most awesome of days. It was chock-a-block full of resentment. Resentment is not a positive emotion, but I couldn’t help myself on Friday, I was seething with it.
I think it started when I was driving the grumpy youngest to the bus stop at 7.30am. As we were approaching drop off, she announced that she needed a couple of notes to get out of sport and writing in her English class, due to the damaged tendon in her wrist.
I was a bit cranky about having to scribble on pieces of scrap paper in a loading zone and my fury levels rose when a truck pulled up behind me and started beeping. I may have sworn a lot.
The day passed in a blur of freelance and unpaid work, with a little risotto making in the middle for my lunch to use up some leftover roast veggies.
Suddenly it was time to collect the youngest from the bus stop at 4pm. I raced out the door, grabbed her and got caught in terrible traffic on the way back. That wouldn’t normally matter, but I was meant to be catching up with an old work colleague for a drink at 5pm.
Every traffic light seemed to take forever to turn green.
The route home involves a really blind intersection where you have to pull out too far to get a clear line of sight. I may have raced up to it a little too quickly and scared the bejesus out of someone driving along the street, who thought I was going to T-bone them.
Ugly faces were pulled, angry words were mouthed and hand gestures were made. My crankiness levels rose further.
As I was pulling away, the youngest said she recognised the lady in the other car. I checked the model and had a horrible, sinking feeling that it was a friend. But I just couldn’t think about it because I had to fling myself into the house, correct a broken link in a story, slap on some make-up and race back out again.
I was running late to my drinks engagement when I pulled into the carpark and checked my phone and saw a message confirming that it WAS a good friend in the other car.
A flurry of apologetic texts followed as I ran to meet my ex-colleague. I am still mortified.
I’m thinking it must rate up among the more embarrassing moments in life to be accidentally involved in a road rage incident with a friend.
It’s also pretty random. But then, as you know, I specialise in such things. When the eldest was in kindy, I side-swiped a car on the Sydney Harbour Bridge that turned out to belong to the husband of the class mum.
Finding that out afterwards wasn’t awkward AT ALL.
Anyways, after a quick drink with my former colleague, I raced home again to make burgers for the kids, then bake 24 cupcakes for the stall at the State Skipping Championships. They came out of the oven at 9pm. I wasn’t resentful about that either.
Yes, I was. Very.
Song of the day: Blondie “Hanging on the telephone”