I dreamed that I stayed with Andy at his place. In reality, he has a very nice and stylish condo. In the dream, it was kind of dumpy. Where he really has a nice washer and dryer - nicer than ours - he had a huge old ancient washer in the dream. Even worse was that I had to climb this really long ladder and pull these ropes across a hollowed-out attic area in order to hang-dry clothes. 

When I went to use his dishwasher I was in for another surprise. There were no baskets or racks of any kind in it. Just a flat floor with a spinner at the top for the water to shoot out of. There were little drain holes at the sides of the floor. 

"Where am I supposed to put the dishes?" I asked him. He told me to just place them in wherever. I placed the plates facing upward but laid the glasses on their sides so water could get inside them. 

Then half a dozen guests arrived, mostly guys, and I wasn't in the mood to socialize, as I wanted to tend to my blog. They seemed young, dumb, naive and potential trouble anyway. So I climbed the stairs to my room hoping Andy wouldn't be pissed. They were, after all, his friends and not mine. 

Later… 

Last night I started off calm, then as crazy as I know this may sound, I felt anxiety in my throat. You know how we can feel physical waves of anxiety in our chest or our head or elsewhere? Well, it felt like a wave of it swept up into my throat, which still has that slight feeling of there being a lump in it, then it almost felt like it moved up into my mouth, toward the sides of my tongue. I don’t see how it could be from the thyroid itself nor did I ever have this sensation before the levothyroxine nightmare. So I’m guessing it’s just leftover anxiety from that trauma, as well as future worries pertaining to doctors/meds. I took a chill pill, which helped relax me. 

Sometimes I’m still torn between going on something regularly at least for a while, and other times I agree with Tom when he said I’ve coped for over 20 years without pills. Meanwhile, it’s nice to know they’re there if I need them. 

Still successfully taking those necessary baby steps toward getting over my phobia. This is the second day I downed a vitamin D without freaking out. The next bigger step will be the selenium. I’m still at the point where if I was suddenly given a prescription drug (unless I was in a hospital full of doctors and nurses when it was administered) I’d be scared shitless. 

I doubt I’ll ever see her again, but we agreed that if I ever do see Doc Hottie again, I’d face her alone. For some reason, she’s much friendlier, open and relaxed if it’s just me instead of the both of us. Might have to lie and say I at least saw a shrink once just to keep her happy. I’d hate to lie to her, but if I tell her, “Look, I’m not crazy. It was the levothyroxine causing 95% of my anxiety, not me. I need a new medication or a lower dosage, not a shrink!” she’s not going to be too happy with me. I know she doesn’t literally think I’m “crazy,” but let her if she ever does. What she thinks doesn’t matter so much as what she does. Because of this, she is better off not knowing I haven’t seen a shrink. But maybe I will. We haven’t ruled that out completely at this time. The shrink isn’t affiliated with Sutter so she couldn’t prove or disprove if I actually saw one or not. 

This week the hunt will begin and the phone calls are on in search of a new endo who will hopefully care about what’s best for ME and not a bunch of numbers. Numbers don’t mean shit when your heart’s racing like a motherfucker, you’re constantly on the toilet with the runs, and you feel intense dread when life is otherwise great. 

I definitely don’t want to see Dr. D, but have mixed emotions about Dr. C. Yes, she’s a hottie, and she’s super nice (when I’m alone), but if she’s going to refer me to shrinks whenever I have a bad reaction to a medication, then I can’t be dealing with her. I just can’t. I gotta see beyond those 5 feet, 10 inches of slimness, perfect teeth, and sexy lips, and right into what’s best for me. I’d rather a 300-pound black or Muslim that knows what’s right for me than some hottie making all the wrong moves.

Really sucks to know that Molly’s going to be harder to block when she sticks her nose in my blog. Marbridge re-did their computers, as she told Aly, and now instead of having the same IP#, she always has a new one each time she visits. 

Later… 

Tom went for a bike ride with me and then he kicked my ass in lawn darts on the Wii. He is definitely much better at that than I am. 

So glad I’m on nights now. I don’t want to have to be awake to listen to Bob’s shit (his racket better NOT override the sound machine!) and this way I don’t feel as alone so much of the time. The OT is likely to go on for the rest of the year. 

We discussed our options for replacing the broken radio in the Caddy. We could get a new one, or get one at a junkyard, or just take the one we bought a little over a year ago from the Ford. We decided to take the Ford’s. It’s a nice stereo and I love its waves of color. That’s the main reason I chose it. Frau Regenbogen loves her rainbows. 

In February when our 21-year-old Ford needs to be relicensed we’ll sell it to a junkyard. It was a great car for the last 7 years even though it had a few problems, one of them being a broken AC. Then, assuming there are no major malfunctions that require us to tap into our line of credit, the Caddy will be ours for the next 8-10 years or so. 

AGAIN we forgot to do my phone! Argh. Gonna have to get to it soon and set up VM cuz my MJ phone dies on the 15th. People may be able to leave messages on it for a while afterward, though. 

If we do move when Tom retires, whatever our car is at the time should be enough to move in cuz I’ll be willing to sell or donate almost everything by then since it will be getting old anyway. I like shiny new stuff. :) We’ll just take our clothes, electronics, some kitchen/bath stuff, and a few of the dolls. I will admit that even though I love it here (minus the landscapers, saws and hammers) the thought of this being it forever with never any new change/variety in the future doesn’t sit well with me. Sit back and enjoy the ride till you retire, I told Tom… we’re going tropical in the end. :) 

I finished my story last night and will take the following month to edit it before November’s NaNoWriMo.