This was a pretty good day. I went to see the rheumatologist Susan recommended. She asked me a whole bunch of questions about my health and had me walk for her. People with fibromyalgia have a set of places on the body that are particularly tender or sensitive to pressure, you have to have eleven of the eighteen to be diagnosed as having fibromyalgia. I was worried about the pressing part because I had heard that if you say that it hurts everywhere they won't be able to give you a good diagnosis, but I do hurt everywhere so I thought I'd say ow no matter what. She pressed on a few of the places that I know are supposed to hurt if you have fibromyalgia but they didn't, so I was careful to be honest. I just went along saying ouch, ouch, no ouch, and then she said that I definitely met the criteria and that I had said no to the control points. She said control points are the places that shouldn't hurt when they push and that some people say they hurt anywhere you press. Poor people.
I read that people with fibro. get bit more by mosquitoes than people who don't have it. How weird is that? Then I remembered how huge Susan's mosquito bites get and when I was in Tahiti I went mad scratching all of my own bites, while they left everyone else alone. Nasty little blood sucking critters.
I don't know, I liked the doctor, she had curly red hair and freckles and seemed compassionate and capable but I wish she'd had more time and gone more slowly so I could be certain. She was so rushed because this sweet dapper older man came in as an emergency. He was obviously in so much pain and I just wanted to fluff him up and caretake him. Poor little sweetheart. I guess he must have been having really bad arthritis pain. By the time she got to me she was an hour behind and I was very aware of the people who were waiting after me.
The people who came in after him were really nice too. A nice gal and her sweet mother. Her mother was having pain in her temples. The daughter seemed smart and funny, kind of held back in a way, but I could tell she was someone who would be great to get to know. She is pregnant and was feeling nauseous. I loved her style, very comfortable-casual but with a creative edge and not in any way fake Brentwood glammy, which is what I'm used to, living where I do. Blech, Brentwood women; they're so fake and competitive and blonde.
She said she was a screenwriter. I used to be a story analyst, the bane of screenwriters, so I didn't say anything about that. I love writers, I was always too kind as a reader. It hurt to be mean to people who you know are trying so hard to be good. I was better at script notes. I wish I had some of the screenplays I covered, oh man were they bad. It would be fun to excerpt them here, but it would probably be some kind of copywrite infringement, who knows. Anyway, it was nice to meet someone interesting and new. I got her e-mail but I will probably be too shy to write. I'm sending healing vibes to her Mom and the older man.
When I left I was so relieved I went shopping. Yup shopping, nothing like spending money you shouldn't be spending to take your mind off things. I tried to find a movie but the timing was all wrong and I wanted to get home to Beau to help him with his homework. I bought a pair of earrings I'd been wanting and hoping I'd get for Christmas and a big wild pink purse. I've really been into pink, red and orange lately, especially if whatever it is covered in sequins and rhinestones. I'm girlie that way.
While waiting at the pharmacy I was looking at Madonna in, shoot, some magazine, can't remember which, and she looked so much younger. I wonder what she's had done. This is so me, I eschew, the whole fashionista scene, the whole be perfect for me to love you LA scene, while at the same time I'm drooling over the style sections of magazines. You know I'm glued to the set for all the big awards shows, especially the Oscars because I'm dying to see what people will wear. I hate that it's become a big fashion show but I'm right there along with everyone else, flipping back and forth between E and the major network that's covering it, so I can hear what Joan will say. I look at the What People Are Wearing section in The Star, I read In Style, and I want to know what people are doing cosmetically to stave off aging.
It's such a drag to have taste and have so little choice in clothes because I'm a big gal, okay damnit I'll say it, I'm a fat gal, a fat gal who can't find cool clothes. I keep hoping that someday, when I lose the weight I'll look good, but then my age will have caught up to me and it'll be one of those Catherine Deneuve, your face or your ass, moments so that's why I want to have the cosmetic surgeons all lined up. I want to know who Madonna uses. I want to be Demi's baby-sitter for a day, the one who turned on them after she got the total makeover, and the trips to Aspen, not so that I can be a mean backstabber, but so that I can get all the names of her doctors so I can go to them and beg them for help, heh.
I don't know when I turned into such a television watching gal, (okay that's a little too much of the word gal, I forbid myself the use of it for the remainder of this entry), but I was definitely looking forward to Temptation Island if only for the fun of putting it down. There's something about trying to break people up that bothers me, although I can see why it makes for compelling TV watching. It was so manipulative though and I don't quite understand what the point of going on the show is. Do the couples that manage to stay together win anything besides the trip, or is it a Jerry Springer white trash fame thing?
I was really pissed at the brunette guy, not the lanky one, but the shorter one with the pretty blonde girlfriend. He was so into the touchy feely, get it on, date aspect of it all. Yuck. He just pissed me off; how willing he was to stroke the legs of his first date, grrrrr, men. Sorry, had to let off a little female, been-there-done-that anger. He has the coolest girlfriend and he's such a leach. The guy I liked the least though was the African American guy. He was so hurtful towards his girlfriend before they separated. I understood why she got mad, he did not want to reassure her in the least and was so into this being some kind of relationship vacation. She was angry because she was hurt and then later she was crying and he just didn't get what he had done at all, and of course saw himself as the injured party. Dick! Dick!! Dick!!! Stupid selfish dick!
Maybe I'm just mad at myself for getting excited and then sucked into such a shallow, body-beautiful, kind of show. I really just want to go to Belize and go scuba diving and stay as far away as possible from people like the guests on this show. At least I don't hate the host as much as I hated the host on Survivor.
Okay well, I have a ton of writing and work to do. Hope everything is going well with you guys. I really have to get caught up on your journals too. I like to know what's happening in your lives.