Doctor Doctor

I went to my general practitioner today, to tell him that my wrist is still bothering me, and he referred me to a rheumetologist, which makes me think that he's sending me to someone who specializes in arthritis, which I don't believe I have...but he said that a rheumtologist doesn't just deal in rheumatoid arthritis. He also prescribed another pain killer, which I took right after eating my lunch/dinner, and so far, it's not working. Story of my life there.

I'm still trying to decide what to do about the band. If I end up in surgery with my wrist, I won't be able to play, and if I have to take care of my mother, I won't be able to play. Jeff really doesn't want me in the band, and I think he worries about me when I'm gone.

There's a slight breeze outdoors, but the humidity in the air is like walking through water. I can barely breathe. The skies are heavy and gray, almost oppressive.

I listened to Karen Carpenter on my CD in my car on the way home. I had to work until 7pm today to make up for the two doctor appointments, and I needed something to bring me back into a relaxed state. Top of the World did it for me. The really unfortunate thing about singing songs that I like so much is that my soul just gets swept away, and the joy of the moment carries me a tad too far, and I begin to cry. Some songs just strike a chord with me. Then my throat chokes up and I can't finish the song.

I really hate it when that happens {grin}.

I finished spinning another skein of yarn for my friend in Grand Rapids. It's going to be a while likely before I see him again, especially if I quit the band, but do you know that for whatever reason, I can't seem to get myself in gear to put my band uniform together to turn it in! I know that it would be nice to have my weekends to myself finally--and probably will allow my wrist to relax better, and maybe heal sooner--plus the business with my mother, I can only expect things to get worse with respect to family as she ages.

My son is another issue altogether.

He wanted a bike for his birthday. I don't have that sort of money to spend on such things. Then he wanted a printer for his computer. Then he wanted money to fix his car. Then he wanted me to take him to the eye doctor and get him new glasses. I think he believes I'm made of money. If I quit the band, for certain I will have more money, but once my wrist heals up, I will start buying yarn and patterns again, leaving me with no money again--but then again, I might never knit again.

GOD FORBID IT!

Sometimes, I say such silly things!

But now, it's time to get to bed and go to sleep. It's been a long day.