Ugh. Modified rest is hard for someone like me, who thrives on multi-tasking and takes pride in how much I can accomplish in any given day. I’m spending way more time on my feet than I probably should, but it feels like I’ve got to in order to accomplish anything at all. So I made the world’s most amazing to-do list, boxed out by room in which each task must be accomplished, and then immediately mixed up an entire box of waffle mix and cooked up waffles for the freezer. What? I was getting annoyed by the unopened box of mix way up on the top shelf, because I have things that I could put there. And instead of throwing it out, I figured I’d just bake them up and freeze them because I now have an enormous freezer in the basement.
What a week it has been. Jim & I were home on Monday (had just returned from running errands in Q) and just getting out of the car when we heard the two blasts from Copley. It was ten minutes or so before we turned on the news and found out what was happening. I was awake last night when news of the MIT shooting emerged, but it was 7 this morning before we discovered it was tied to the Marathon bombings. Events seem to progressing rapidly at this point, and I am hopeful it will be brought to a close this day. And that no more deaths will occur, because the 5 that have already occurred are more than enough.
In other news, I’m up to my eardrums with the so-called care I’m getting at my doctors’ office. I’m just not feeling connected to them or cared for (in the holistic sense of the word). Yesterday the physician prescribed me a Pregnancy Class C antibiotic for a minor infection that is not developed enough to manifest any physical symptoms. Class C drugs, by the way, are not entirely safe for pregnant women. This one has warnings for the first trimester but not later, but at least the nurse I talked to this morning said that she wouldn’t take a Class C antibiotic when she was pregnant, either. For the first time, I felt like someone in the medical community was standing with me, instead of against me! So I still haven’t taken the medication, and am currently waiting for a callback on whether there are any other alternatives. Class C drugs should be used only if the benefits outweigh the (developmental, cardiac, potential) risks. And as far as I’m concerned, at this point they don’t. So there.
If there’s one thing I’m enjoying about this particular shenanigan, it’s that I’m establishing an early track record for refusing or questioning the drugs they’re blithely prescribing. Might make it easier to refuse certain drugs later on if I’m already known to be adverse to drug interventions…
Little Miss is the size of a pineapple (yum!) or 4 navel oranges (meh).
Edited to add: I can still see my feet. Shouldn’t they be strangers to me by now? Is this yoga’s doing?