Taking Care Of Business And So Forth

Tallahassee Nursery

I woke up this morning determined to get some things done that I have been putting off for a long time. Number one on that list was setting up an appointment for a mammogram. Twice my own GP and once my gynecologist said they'd set me up for one but I never got a scheduling call and have just let it slide but it's time. So I called my GP's office and the woman I talked to said that the radiology place hasn't been good about calling to schedule after receiving orders from doctors, and so she gave me their number. I called it and set up an appointment for next Monday. 
You have no idea how insanely anxious I become, just making phone calls like that. When I was talking to the woman at my doctor's office, I could not, for the life of me, come up with the word, "mammogram." I stumbled, apologized, thought about calling it a breast squishing test, and then finally the word slipped in as if it had been caught on the other side of town when I needed it, apologizing all the way. 

But it really wasn't that hard although I'm still disassociating and probably will be until this is all over. This means that I'm working with about a third of a brain here and trust me- I need every bit of what my brain can muster these days. 

And then, because I was doing hard things and had my big girl panties pulled up as high as they would go, I also made an appointment to get an eye exam for which I am sorely overdue. The woman there, like the other two women I had spoken with, was just as nice as she could be and she even laughed at my jokes. I make jokes in situations like this to dispel my anxiety and nothing is worse than having a nurse or aide or doctor who either doesn't get the joke or doesn't feel the need to respond to it. My humor is generally so dry and often sarcastic that I really should not be surprised when someone doesn't understand that I'm making a joke in the first place so I suppose I should give the people holding clipboards a pass when they look up from what they're doing and give me a puzzled expression. 

I will be seeing Dr. Lyons, the optometrist, on Wednesday. I will be glad to get that over with. At my age, cataracts are definitely a possibility along with other age-related problems, not to mention the fact that my prescription needs changing and my glasses are so old that I can barely see through them for the scratches. 

Anyway, I did those things and then I texted Jessie to see if she wanted to go out for lunch because it really was time for me to join the land of the living again. She did and we asked Rachel, too. It is her birthday week. She's starting a new job soon so she has a few days of rare availability. 

We went to the Mediterranean place we all love so much and it may have been even better than usual which is sort of hard to fathom. Then we went to a plant nursery which was having a BOGO on tomato plants. The place was filled with people wandering around, looking at the flowers, the herbs, the vegetable plants, the fruit trees. All of it. I'm surprised that the place didn't sell out over the weekend because the weather was so beautiful that I'm sure people were lined up for half a mile at the cash registers with their wagon of plants to take home, spring-dreaming about the perfect yard, the perfect garden, the perfect pots of blooms. 

Not a great picture but I just snapped it on our way to check-out. 

And then I went to Publix and then I came home and I've felt so floaty in my head and my body feels tired and a little achy and I'm sure that's all part of the anxiety too. But I DID make those appointments and I DID get out of the house and go out into the public space and be with some people I love, and talk and laugh and buy some tomato plants. And a few other things. 

I will probably let Mr. Moon plant them as he has such definitive ideas about plant placement in the garden. Fine with me. He'll be back on Wednesday and I will be glad to see him. It's funny how I feel his absence most strongly when I go to bed. I always go to bed before he does and I read for awhile before I turn out the light and for some reason I can feel his presence, four rooms away in the Glen Den as he watches whatever it is he watches on TV. He comes to bed before I fall asleep most nights and I guess I am always waiting for that. Since he's been gone, I've caught myself every night thinking he's here, wondering if he's about to come to bed and then realizing that no, he's in Orlando. But also knowing that he will be home soon. 
It helps if Maurice sleeps with me but last night she didn't and so I had two warm bodies to miss. 

One more thing before I let you go (ha!). Remember the book I got from the library, The Widow's Guide To Dead Bastards?

Great title. Interesting cover. Book itself? 
Meh. 

I mean, the first part of the book wherein a woman whose husband dies suddenly at a relatively young age, finds out a whole lot about him that she never even suspected, is interesting for sure and made me wonder what in the world it would be like to discover that the man I had loved and had a child with had been leading a completely secret life that I had no idea about. Her initial thoughts and reactions were worth reading about but then it got into the woo-woo zone and as I told Jessie today, it seemed like the last half of the book was her accepting that her husband had been mentally ill and that despite the (spoiler alert) massive porn collection, affairs, and paid sex workers he'd had in his life, she was the one he'd truly loved and that when he was with her and their son, he was terrific. 
Sort of. Except when he wasn't. 

I could say a lot more but what's the point? I will say that there are a lot of talented psychics and healers in Calgary, Canada. And you know what? I have no idea how I'd cope if my husband...

Eh, I can't say it. 
I'd probably want the comfort of thinking he was still right here beside me too. 

I believe I will be going to bed early tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon