And they said it couldn't be done.
In my last post, I insinuated that it would be unlikely that I could beat the vertigo-strep-mono combo of last year. But that was before the pinkeye-kidney stone double whammy of 2007.
I spent a fine Thursday afternoon doubled over in the ER puking my guts out and having significant difficulty with my internal plumbing. A CATscan discovered that, hooray!, I had a kidney stone of not insifgnificant size making the grand journey south, and causing all kinds of trouble along the way. By the time I got taken care of, I was told that there wasn't much to be done except to see Mr. Kidney Stone off, and to take some Percocet to feel better.
Fast forward to two days later when I was feeling much better and dancing about at an 80s tribute band party, and all was well. But I have become something of a preferred customer at CVS. The other day I went to pick up a regular prescription, and the pharmacist at this downtown DC establishment (which probably sees thousands of customers a day), knew my freakin' name. It was all "Hi Robyn! We'll be right with you!" before I even got up to the counter.
I don't know about you, but I'm thinking that just ain't right.