Ugh. I don't want to turn into my grandmother, always talking talking about her medications and her aches and pains all the time.
I'm ALWAYS afraid I'm turning into my dad, because that's the only thing he ever talks about -- what pain/illness/mystery symptom/medical anomaly he's currently experiencing, and how many meds he takes for it. And yet I do it all the fucking time -- to Tim WAY more than here (my IBS is inexplicably flaring and meds aren't helping, my back hurts [my back ALWAYS hurts], oh god a migraine, why is my vagina broken, a normal hip shouldn't feel like that, my cholesterol level is WHAT, etc.).
Plus I may have accidentally signed a contract in my own blood and sold my soul to the dark forces. Like you do.
That's how we know we're middle aged, ailments are a valid, interesting conversation choice.
On one hand, I'm genuinely interested in the medications, and what they do and how my body responds to them, in my own little
n = 1
experiment. OTOH, it's a quick step from there to whining and blathering constantly about my private little world of discomfort.
Being sick is boring.
Welcome home, Cosmo!
Numfar, do the dance of joy!
Welcome home, Cosmo!
I'm so happy to wake up to this news! Yay!
That's how we know we're middle aged, ailments are a valid, interesting conversation choice.
Heh. I always want to tell Tim's nieces and nephews (who are still in their teens and 20s) "You know how, when you wake up in the morning, nothing hurts? SAVOR THAT."
IT IS A BEAUTIFUL DAY!!!! (but god damn, my neck hurts...)
That's wonderful news, Strix. I'm very happy for you (and Cosmo).
Yay, Cosmo!!! I am so, so happy and relieved.
Yay Cosmo! Now you've had your adventure so don't do that again.
I've informed her firmly she is a very naughty boots. And she will be getting chipped ASAP. And possibly a collar with a GPS chip.