Indiscretions of the Leggoland mind

The title here has very little to do with the actual post forthcoming, but it sounded cool in my head so deal with it.

Most of you probably already know some of the things that have been occurring in my life the last few months, some of you know a lot of it, and two of you know everything. But did any of you know that this has actually been something I've dealt with for a number of years? Gotcha! It's true though.

God bless the Bigdawg who has stood by and watched me be in pain, and suffered through the horrendous hormone medications and their side effects!! He's a trooper for sure and I'm so glad that he is who is walking this path with me (though there are days I'm sure when he would tell you he wished he'd pushed me off the path). Thankfully this path is nearing it's end hopefully once and for all very soon. Ten days, ten days is what I keep saying today.

Ten days until I don't have to take these crazy hormones anymore. Ten days until I won't contemplate very seriously injuring the woman at the grocery store who took the absolute very last free parking space. Ten days until my coworkers and boss can breathe easy and not wonder which mood they will encounter this morning. Ten days until I will wake up and realize that I've got no idea what day it is, or where exactly I am. Then eleven days until I realize I am back at home, and confined there for the next 2-4 weeks. The Bigdawg has been coordinating with the Scoutmaster who will babysit me on which days and for how long they will be there. It's a phenomenon in it's own right to think that I have to have a baby-sitter for myself.

I don't really care at all who baby-sits me, I won't know much different the first couple of days at least. After that, all I can say is don't attempt to convince me to do anything I've said no to, because no is my final answer and even in my drug induced state of mind, and possibly especially in that state of mind, I will not compromise. Ask the Bigdawg..he will tell you. It's never been a secret that I'm stubborn, and I don't hide it from anyone, but I am generally fine with compromise. Apparently on medication, compromise is not a word in my vocabulary. Pray for the people who are stuck having me stare at them while I'm home. Maybe I'll sleep, a lot.

What I do really care about is the fact that this should result in me not having to be poked, prodded, weighed, measured, questioned, shuffled from one office to another, filling out endless forms about all the questions they have already asked me, only to be asked again in person. I still have the bruises on my arm from the latest round of poking and prodding. Heaven knows our dear Lord has had to hear me more in the last few months than I'm sure he's wanted to. Chances are that if He were like us, He'd have told me to get over it already and shut-up.

So, here I am, ten days and counting. Wonder what kind of trouble I can get into between now and then?

(I should have titled this ten days...but I like the original better)