Blocked!

Feathers and Barb Wire  fabric pattern.

Hey Brain!  Isn't this the shit?! (shit is on my mind these past couple days - you will see why if you keep reading - so please forgive my potty mouth).  My stomach and all the rest of my internal digestion system randomly decided to take an end of summer vacation this week leaving me, well... up shit creek, and that's not even a pun really.  
I wound up in Urgent Care at 9 PM two nights ago.  The nurse was the dearest man, very sweet, very gay (I miss my gay guy friends from Disney SO much I just want to be best friends with every gay guy I meet these days. I'm sure it unnerves them immensely.) and very kind. He had no idea what he was in for when he came to give me a blood test.

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Here we are, we just need one drop. (shows me tiny infinitesimal needle the size of baby cactus spine inside little plastic box contraption) Shall we do the left index finger? This will only take a second."

Me: (with trepidation) "Uh... I have to warn you that I'm a jumper.  I jump, like really bad.  I try not to but I... just can't stop myself.  I'm so sorry."

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Oh that's not a problem Sweetheart, you'll do fine, you'll barely feel a thing.  I'm very quick."

Me: "OK." (thinking, "well, you've been warned." and feeling very embarrassed in advance because this happens every time I give blood.   The amount does not matter, the pain level means nothing, this is just what my body -totally of its own accord - does.)

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Here goes."

Both of Us: "ARRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

It would be hard to say who was more startled, myself or the poor nurse.  I can never manage prepare myself for way my body reacts to even the tiniest discomfort, let alone force it NOT to react.  This time was  particularly spectacular.  The moment the nurse went to prick my finger, my body read his intention the way a starving cheetah on the Serengeti reads the antelope's mind as it flees.  Sensing the impending threat to its perfect wholeness, my body contorted into a spasm probably unequaled in that Urgent Care Center before or since.  Completely without my conscious effort I shot 9 inches off the table.  The plastic box with the needle went flying across the room.  The nurse jumped back clutching his hand.

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Oh my God!"

Me: "Oh dear, I'm SO sorry, are you hurt?"

Together we examined the nurse as it seemed possible he might have jabbed himself in the confusion of the moment.

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Well that was sure something!"

Me: "I can never help it, its so embarrassing.  I'm mortified."

We determined the nurse was unscathed and turned our attention to my index finger from which, low and behold, a slow trickle of my precious blood was starting to flow.

Sweet Gay Nurse: "Oh Girl!  Am I good or what?!"

I was impressed.

ANYWAY, the upshot of all that was that after they did the blood test and determined that it was unlikely my internal strike was due to an infection, they wrote me out a prescription and sent me home.. to wait.

The good thing about all the waiting is that since i haven't wanted to go very far from the err.. "facilities" I have been able to do quite a bit of photoshop in the meantime.  So I got some things done and over came a creative block that was happening on my sister's book project and then this morning the waiting was rewarded and I overcame yet another sort of block(and I'll say no more about that) so all in all I am feeling better and am pretty pleased.  I am only sorry we missed Zoe's agility class and Courage's Therapy Dog class.  But we'll catch up.

Finally kicked the creative block (among other blocks) this week.