Thursday, September 14, 2017

I got 'Pink Eye' and that's not the worst part of this story.

A few months ago I got shingles. I was under a lot of stress, barely sleeping and generally not looking after myself. Most people get shingles on the body or limbs. Not Me. Obviously. I got shingles in my EYE. MY EYE! I mean what the hell?

My GP couldn't diagnose it - he sent me to emergency for further tests. It took 2 trips to emergency in a matter of days before I finally got a doctor who suspected it might be shingles. I was sent to a specialist who confirmed that I had a rare diagnosis of shingles in my eye. Of course. If it's not rare it's not for me (please see a post from a few years ago about a rare disease I got during my pregnancy).

It took weeks to recover from - it was extremely painful and I was lucky to get away with with little bit of damage I was left with. But the Dr warned me that anything to do with my eyes going forward had to be taken seriously so last week when I felt like my eye had a bit of grit in it, I made an appoinment to see the GP.

By the time I saw the GP (24 hours after the first sgns), I was pretty sure it wasn't shingles. I was pretty sure it was conjunctivitis. AKA Pink Eye. (A little piece of me dies as I write the words.)

When I saw the Dr he asked me how I thought I'd gotten conjunctivitis. This was my response:

"Well it's either because Zach is going through a phase where he sit's on my head and farts on me or it's because my dog sleeps in my bed with his butt in my direction and he farts a lot."

Silence.

Crickets chirping.

Awkward.

Finally he speaks "Um well that's not really how you get conjunctivitis...I meant, have you been feeling run down, like your getting sick, are you under a lot of stress...that sort of thing?"

Me (as I wish and hope for the ground to just swallow me up) "Oh. Yeah. Of Course. I was just kidding."

Extreme Awkward.

*Author will need to find a new GP as she can never see him again. Ever.




Sunday, August 27, 2017

Why I have a can of Mortein in my car

I gave a friend a lift recently - the car was a mess - full of mini dinosaurs, bits of bark and sticks (Zach's latest obsession), popcorn, sultanas - you know the normal "I have a toddler" stuff.  But that didn't bother her - she did however curiously ask why there was a can of bug spray rolling around the floor of the car.

A few months ago I had dinner at a friends place. They're keen gardeners and offered me some plants for my new home. We enjoyed a fabulous dinner - homemade pizzas, good wine  (just one glass thanks!) and great company. When it was time to go my car was packed full of fabulous plants - Frangipani's and succulents.

The drive home was about 35 minutes and it was raining. I was in a great mood, singing at the top of my lungs to whatever was playing on the radio. But all was not right and a sense of dread came over me. I turned the radio off. I sensed something moving aboveme. I prayed "please don't be a spider, please don't be a spider". I dared not look up...and I didn't need to because 4 cockroaches scuttled over me and onto the windscreen. I screamed. Oh I screamed like a little girl. But what could I do? I was on the freeway driving at 100km/ph and it was raining. I kept as good an eye on those roaches as I could while they scuttled about the windscreen, taunting me, teasing me, threatening me. Little Fuckers. I can only imagine what the scene looked like - me screaming while roaches ran around owning the car. Every little itch or twitch I thought was another creature - I dont know, maybe crawling in my hair, down my back or worse in my ear!

I drove home as carefully as I could. Obviously I was stuck behind every slow driver that ever existed, stopping at every red light possible and I swear that garage door took twice as long to open! I ran into the house and grabbed the mortein and a fly swat. I then sprayed the shit out of the car...and the plants. I made sure I found those 4 litte bastards and killed them good and proper. I took the plants out the car as quickly as I could and sprayed the car again for good measure...maybe an entire can...maybe.

The next morning...after dreams of bugs crawling all over me...I tentativly went to the car. I couldn't be sure but I felt those 4 roaches weren't working alone. I opened the back passenger door behind the drivers set. It was fucking carnage - at least 15 dead cockroaches on the floor. I didn't know wether to scream, cry or laugh. I checked the rest of the car - another 10 roaches. It was traumatic to say the least.

I messaged my friend to say thank you for dinner, the plants and the cockroaches that attacked me. Her response? "Oh cockroaches, I'm surprised they weren't redbacks."

This is why I now ALWAYS have a can of mortein in the car.

*many cockroaches were harmed in the making of this story
*the author does not care - they deserved it.