Blame the Microwave
So, I'm back from the Retina Specialist where I (possibly the youngest person seeing the doctor that day) underwent a series of tests which involved fun things like having dye injected and then having time-lapse photography taken of the weird spot on my eye. (The dye was injected into my arm, lest you think I'm walking around looking like Marty Feldman or something.) All of this led the specialist to conclude that I have this thing called Central Serous Retinopathy (CSR), for which there is no cure and also? They're not really sure what causes it.
Of course not.
The doctor said that the spot should go away on its own within the next six months (!) and it will just be annoying as hell until then. (Okay, I made that last part up.) He also said that there have been pretty strong associations made between CSR and STRESS and STEROIDS. Which, um, HELLOOOO! I've just recently had all of those steroid shots for my foot and, well, I've been under some stress. I think moving across the country, having a dying dog, being in chronic pain, having a house for sale in the worst housing crisis this country has known, losing my beloved cat and finding him again, meeting Lin and then having her move, and knitting a sweater are pretty stressful things, at least when taken in a short amount of time.
Not to mention that on Saturday, just out of the blue, the really fancy-pants microwave that came with our house suddenly stopped working.
And dudes, that was just the FINAL STRAW.
I mean, COME ON.
So, while I sat there, knitting in the lobby of the Retina Specialist with all the other Octogenarians, wearing two pairs of glasses and waiting for my ride, I started to cry. I mean, COME ON. Enough already.
Just then, two women approached, "Oh, did you knit your bag?" I peered up at them from under the two pairs of glasses and through my tears. "I bet you knit that beautiful bag, didn't you!"
"Yes," I gushed in utter, utter joy. "AND MY SOCKS!"
They could not have been more impressed. We talked felting for a bit and they oohed and ahhed and asked questions that only knitters would ask and I stopped crying.
At least for a while.
(Really though, COME ON!)
Of course not.
The doctor said that the spot should go away on its own within the next six months (!) and it will just be annoying as hell until then. (Okay, I made that last part up.) He also said that there have been pretty strong associations made between CSR and STRESS and STEROIDS. Which, um, HELLOOOO! I've just recently had all of those steroid shots for my foot and, well, I've been under some stress. I think moving across the country, having a dying dog, being in chronic pain, having a house for sale in the worst housing crisis this country has known, losing my beloved cat and finding him again, meeting Lin and then having her move, and knitting a sweater are pretty stressful things, at least when taken in a short amount of time.
Not to mention that on Saturday, just out of the blue, the really fancy-pants microwave that came with our house suddenly stopped working.
And dudes, that was just the FINAL STRAW.
I mean, COME ON.
So, while I sat there, knitting in the lobby of the Retina Specialist with all the other Octogenarians, wearing two pairs of glasses and waiting for my ride, I started to cry. I mean, COME ON. Enough already.
Just then, two women approached, "Oh, did you knit your bag?" I peered up at them from under the two pairs of glasses and through my tears. "I bet you knit that beautiful bag, didn't you!"
"Yes," I gushed in utter, utter joy. "AND MY SOCKS!"
They could not have been more impressed. We talked felting for a bit and they oohed and ahhed and asked questions that only knitters would ask and I stopped crying.
At least for a while.
(Really though, COME ON!)
Comments
Sort of.
Your microwave could just be going through some "mechanical puberty" issues or something like ours did. ;) (I can just see a microwave saying "I hate you! I refuse to do ANYTHING for you.")
And about the knitting... it heals the soul, doesn't it?
How nice that fellow knitters were there to give you the distraction that you needed! And hang in there, things will get better. Or at least you'll gain perspective on them...eventually.
I need to knit so that strangers will love me the way they love you.
Hugs from here to there over your: dog, house, microwave, eyes, etc. It really is too much.
I think you and Kate need to hook up some how in the back of the beyond and just get away from it all.