What a weekend.
I haven't been very forthcoming about health issues lately because I just don't want to talk much about it. I don't want everything thinking I'm some kind of hypochondriac. But, I'm getting older and my body isn't working as well as it did when I was in my 20's, so of course, there are things that need to be fixed. Kind of like the maintenance on a car.
About 6 weeks ago I received a procedure called "Novasure". My gynecologist did the procedure which basically cauterizes the lining of the uterus with a jolt of electricity. Angela keeps asking the details of the voltage and wattage or something technical like that but that's over my head. I don't CARE so long as it works and I don't have another period in my life!
This week, I'm seeing a neurologist because my right arm keeps going numb and I have shooting pains my right hand when I try to do anything with it (like write!). I've already had an MRI and the doctors can't find anything wrong with my arm. So, now I get to see the neurologist. My family doctor gave me some painkillers and muscle relaxants, so I've been blissfully stoned the last few days.
Why the blog title?
It seems like any time I finally start making friends through AOL, I screw up and make friends with the "wrong" people. They aren't "bad" people, but they turn out to be "fair weather friends". They want me to be there for them when things are bad for them, but when my life takes a downfall, they aren't there anymore. The last couple of weeks I've been in so much pain, I can barely take care of myself and my family, much less take care of adults who should be taking care of themselves. I'm sorry their lives suck, but I can't fix it and I can't stand listening to them continually whine about it. If I offer advice, it's hardly ever taken. Maybe I have shitty advice to them, but at least I know what to do because I've been in their shoes before. Or maybe they wanted me to step in and make everything ok? I have no idea.
This month yet again someone decided to berate me for marrying a man old enough to be my father. Get over it. I married the man I love, who I thought would have a real family with me. We have our ups and downs. And it's not always easy having a 20-year age difference. But after watching some of the whining in the room about other women's husbands, I find new reasons to be grateful for him. By the way, the person who berated me in the room for marrying a man so much older seems to have forgotten her AOL buddy is involved with an older man as well. I wish I had thought to say that when she was on her rant, but I was trying to let it blow over. It's hard to not egg her on a little bit, though. I find it funny when people go berserk in the room. I can see her screeching and raving like a lunatic.