Well, the scan turned out to show no growth encroaching on anything of big importance (read: optic nerve is not crushed requiring barbaric surgery through your nose and sinus cavity to your brain). Two words only suffice here: Thank God.
In the meantime, my doc said she was just chalking up my recent episode to a migraine gone haywire. I now have enough narcotics in my medicine cabinet that could knock out a small army.
To celebrate the recent bout of I-promise-I'm-really-not-a-crazy-person-medical-event, I'm making a batch of butternut squash soup. Some would go out on the town and drink bad tequila until they thought they loved everyone in the bar, but I think my poor liver has had enough with all of the Tylenol over the past week. Yup, I do happiness with soup.
While I was out buying my provisions, I went into Trader Joes and saw something that you don't see everyday. A flock of Amish in Trader Joes. The women were in their bonnets, black dresses, knitted sweater shawls, etc. They were loading up on the Joe Joe cookies, tasty salsa, and ground meat. They then loaded it up into their PT Cruiser complete with a vanity license plate of Godz4U. It was quite the distracting sight.
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