When blankie bear was new, Griffon was sweet, and I had not yet barfed in that beaded bag.

So, I had strep. Thanks for asking. I feel much better now, after Day 2 of antibiotics.

Want to see my (completely disparate) favorite posts today?

Go here and here.

The first because: awesome. The second because I so understand this feeling, the dissipating of the “sparkly mist,” even though I have no desire (AT ALL) for more children.

No joke. I feel like turds. I haven’t felt this bad in a long time.

It’s 4:45 a.m. I’ve been up for over an hour because my entire body feels tense and like someone punched me in the throat.

One would think the Minute Clinic would open at 7ish, but one would be wrong. NINE. More than four hours from now.

Meanwhile, I cannot take off the hoodie, so I continue to recall Unabomber.

Do you want to hear something so sad (you will probably cry a tiny tear)?

I’m sick, oh so sick. Body aches, sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, fever.

Right now, I am huddled under the covers on my bed, wearing a t-shirt, sweatpants, and a hoodie. Because I am so very, very cold.

I think Brad thinks I’m asleep, but really, that would be impossible because he’s playing a computer game on the bed that apparently requires that he press the space bar and send shocks of pain into my body.

The WebMD app on my phone says I either have tonsillitis, strep, Dengue fever, or “exercise or physical activity.”

I KNEW there was something wrong with that shit.

If you can even believe it, that last post really was not Munchausen by proxy. One of my children barfed two to three times (depending on whether you count the first time as two times, which you COULD do… I thought I was safe enough to walk out of the room to get the wipes, whereupon there was another eruption) less than 36 hours after I called September the barf-a-thon kickoff month.

So far, it’s just been him. I did make the decision not to change our sheets just yet, though. The glass is always half full around here.

Half full of barf.

At least it was short lived. This is him about four hours later, with the Star Wars lollipop I brought home for him from the grocery store (possibly the best purchase I’ve ever made, in terms of happiness to cost ratio).

I owe you kind people an update on this junk.

The news is not fantastic; it’s not even resolved.

After the MRI and bloodwork, I didn’t hear from the neurologist. I kinda thought that meant my tests were negative. But no.

I have two lesions – “T2 hyperintensities” – in my brain, which is the minimum for a diagnosis of MS (multiple sclerosis, or lesions). These lesions can be caused by different things, but MS is the only thing that makes sense (so far). No head trauma, no long-term high blood pressure/diabetes. (They also can occur as a result of age, but I’m only 34, dudes. One study I read said only about 10% of people over 60 have even a single lesion.)

I *also* learned that I have a lesion on my thyroid. “By the way,” said the neurologist.

So. I’m trying to get in with a superstar doctor. A neurologist so fancy he only agrees to schedule an appointment after he reviews your testing.

My final blood results should be in by the end of the week. I’m hoping to talk to his scheduler sometime next week.

These are the facts, ma’am.

I have more to say about this (and other things), but I can hardly keep my eyes open.

No word on the health.

I did the MRI; it was relaxing. I had the blood drawn; it gave me a bruise.

My head is killing me.

I’m in Dallas right now, for work. I am pretty much over my job.

You know what made me happy today? A text from Brad with this photo.

Shortly after this photo was taken, I hear he laughed so hard, he gagged and threw up.

So. I mentioned that I had a second thing about which to talk with the shrink last week. I’m writing about it now because I fully expect that the trepidation I’m feeling will soon be a memory. I’ll find out there’s nothing to it, and I won’t want to write about it because it’ll seem silly and distant, and I’ll feel embarrassed that I was ever worried.

I think I might have MS.

(Sorry. Could not think of a less dramatic way of spitting it out.)

I have had some weird neurological symptoms for awhile, some of them so strange that they really defy description. I started putting together maybe eight months or so ago that they might be related. And then even weirder stuff started happening, and Dr. Google said I had MS.

I’m saying it like it’s a joke, but it’s not.

(I joke when I’m uncomfortable. And I’m uncomfortable a lot. It’s not the most flattering character trait.)

The more I started reading about MS, the more I could point to almost every symptom. It took me about six months to get up the courage and energy to actually see a doctor.

I saw the neurologist last week. He was great. Imagine a really funny, elderly man with a really thick accent… South American or maybe Italian… “We’re gonna do tests. They’ll take your blod like vampire. I’m a’gonna tell you all thee terrybull tings you daunt have.”

All my neurological reflexes were perfect in his office. And he listened to my feet with a stethoscope and said my circulation was great too (my feet are ALWAYS cold, and I’ve always just assumed it’s because I have poor circulation or something, so that’s nice to know).

I had blood drawn Friday, and I have two MRIs with and without contrast tomorrow evening. The blood was to test for Sjogren’s, which he thinks is even less likely than MS.

I have a follow-up appointment a week from this coming Thursday. He said I could call for the MRI results before then if I was anxious but that they’d definitely call me immediately if they found anything concerning.

Those are the facts.

Behind them, there’s definitely some fear. I kinda had to get to a place where I was okay thinking MS was even possible before I could call a doctor. So, I’ve really done a lot of the PANIC part already, whenever I’ve had random symptoms remind me that something’s not right.

I don’t want this to be a post about symptoms – although I really WOULD like to tell you about the super WEIRD ones – but I’ll just give you a quick example. For the past two weeks or so, I can be sitting straight up, but my back will feel like my body’s doubled over… My sensation/perception don’t match reality. That tends to be the common thread with all my symptoms.

The weirdest, most disconcerting thing, and the symptom that led me to Dr. Google’s diagnosis, is that I go through periods of a few days where, coinciding with headaches, my visual perception doesn’t match reality. The best way I can describe it is that my brain will tell my eyes to look at something, my eyes will move, and a split-second later, my visual perception will catch up. It’s really difficult to describe.

These kinds of things will just hit me out of the blue, after I’ve been normal for awhile and convinced myself it’s all in my head. (ba-dum-pum-CHING)

Even after I went to the doctor – especially after – I thought I was crazy, that maybe it hasn’t been as bad as I thought. But I know that’s because I don’t have any symptoms right now. Except the back thing. Which is literally happening as I’m typing this.

I know I’m not crazy. (Well, not about THIS at least.) I know something’s going on; I just hope it’s not MS. And it probably isn’t.

Love the weekends when we go to Kerbey Lane for breakfast. Pumpkin pancakes. Yummm.

(Anneke has a bit of a Silly Bandz obsession.)

Question: Any ideas for dealing with baby constipation? We’ve run into this a couple times with the other kids, but Ohhh Emmmm Geeee, NOTHING LIKE THIS. We’re going on two weeks of minimal poop. Archie is miserable, and I feel like we’ve tried everything.

The deal is that he basically stopped eating vegetables and fruits (except bananas, of course) awhile back. We’ve tried green beans, carrots, strawberries, prunes, prune SMOOTHIES. You name it, he won’t eat it. He won’t drink juice. Water is eh. All he wants is milk, cheese, bread, and yogurt.

We finally bought some glycerin butt shooters. Oh yes. The box says they typically induce poop in 15 to 60 minutes. Twice, nothing. Last night, we bought an oral baby laxative and gave it to him in a bottle of milk, plus the glycerin suppository. He did wake up this morning with poop, but again, minimal, and ROCKS.

I wouldn’t be so worried about it – after four children, I have realized they’re pretty durable, these children, so I’m pretty laidback when it comes to my health worrying (about THEM) – but I swear to you, twice, we have seen his butt look basically like his RECTUM IS ON THE OUTSIDE OF HIS BODY. I’m pretty sure he’s getting little baby hemorrhoids.

Brad is currently spoon feeding him some strawberry Activia with chocolate baby laxative. Mmmm.

Halp meh.