What a Day

Today was a day of wonderful, delightful merriment and frustrating, mind boggling craziness.

First...the merriment.  Asher and I went out for lunch and he ate a ton of vegetables (a rare event).  Yep, turns out he will eat beets, sweet potatoes, zucchini, parsley, polenta, and red peppers... if they are covered in an icecream scoop-sized ball of butter and creamy mushroom sauce.  

On our way home we were rocking out to Avicii at a stoplight when I looked up and realized that we were stopped alongside a city bus, and that people were up out of there seats to watch us dance.  Asher realized he had an audience, which made him start squealing and clapping and frantically waving at the people peering down at him.  

Total awesomeness.

On to the frustrating.  

*Deep breath*

After having a bit of a flare this week I needed to see a rheumatologist for the first time since August. When I called on Monday, they told me that the soonest I could get in was July, maybe August.  If my experience with the Albuquerque health care system has taught me anything, it is to disregard what you hear and push back.  So I asked a physician to call to see if I get in sooner.  This was on Wednesday.  Her nurse called me back an hour later to say that I could be seen two days later (today).  

Thaaat's what I thought.

I got to the "super-busy-can't-see-you-for-3-months" rheum clinic and it was immediately clear why it was impossible to get me in before July... they were overflowing with patients.  

The nurse came to the waiting room and called my name (not quite sure why... I was the only person there).  She took my vitals and then my weight.  When she said my weight, I said, "Umm, I don't think so."  Their scale was off by 20 pounds.  I knew this because I'd just had another doctors appointment last week where my weight was exactly what it's been for a year.  But the nurse just smiled at me and wrote down the scale weight. 

Then I met Dr. O'Sullivan.  He decided that I need to be back on my medication, at a higher dose.  The only problem with this is that when you go above a certain dose you are at risk for retinal toxicity.  Because of that, the dosing needs to be carefully determined based on weight.  He whipped out his iPhone to calculate the new dose. When he said the weight, I said, "Oh, that isn't right."  He took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and said under his breath Girl.  Then said, "Are you a little sensitive about your weight?"  I just stared at him and blinked.  Then I said, "No, I'm not.  But you're off by 20 pounds and you are trying to calculate my dose for a medication that can lead to blindness if you're off, so I need you to listen to me.  That weight is not right."  It took him looking through my records and seeing that my weight was twenty pounds lighter last week to believe me.  

So we established a pretty good rapport right away.

After our encounter, I had to go get labs.  This is when things really got interesting.  The clinic was located in a huge, mostly empty old hospital.  The rheumatology office was in the west wing.  To go get my labs done I had to walk through abandoned hallways and through the lobby.  About twenty feet down the hall I heard someone jump out behind me.  I turned around to see a young guy, face scratched up, about 100 pounds.  The kind of guy who makes your spidey senses go off.  I walked a little faster, hoping someone else was going to show up.  Then he started barking and growling at me.  Yep.  Barking.  And growling.  From about four feet behind me.  In an empty hallway.  Fantastic.

When I finally got to the lobby, there was a policeman waiting.  He yelled at the kid, which spooked the little guy and sent him running.  But not really running, more like zig zaggy tripping.  The cop ended up tackling him on a couch (picture below).  

So I guess I dodged that bullet.

Just another day in the life of Albuquerque....