A Questionable Start to 2024

Okay, so this is getting weird. A couple weeks ago I blogged about how 2023 ended on a bad note but hoped 2024 would have a better start. Well, so much for hope. Now don’t get me wrong; 2024 isn’t a lost cause because we’re only 35 days into it but I have to say I’m not lovin’ the trend here. Why not, you ask? Partly because I’m a…

For instance, last week I lost a set of keys for my work vehicle. The keys included my one and only house key plus an unidentified key which I have no clue of its purpose. Still, I kept it on my key chain holder in case I happen to remember. (Yeah right, like THAT’S gonna happen.) The thing is, the battery died in that key fob so I locked the car by inserting the key into the door, thereby preventing me from locking it inside.

I was at Marin Humane, rushing to drive 20 cats 2 hours north for a spay/neuter clinic. Running just 50 feet from the SUV to the feral cat room, this nincompoop somehow managed to lose the keys. I’m telling you, they disappeared like a puff of smoke in the wind. My saving grace? Transporting the cats in Marin Humane’s huge van.

My guess is the keys will turn up eventually, even though I searched every square inch of those 50 feet. But in the meantime, I need to buy another key fob and have more house keys made. But good riddance to the unidentified key which no doubt one day I’ll regret losing. Oh dear keys…

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The Meaning of Essentially

I’m not a very sedentary person. Sitting still is not my strong suit. If I’m sitting down I’m usually tapping my foot. In bed, I rock my feet back and forth before going to sleep. I’m normally not aware I’m doing it until one of my cats, usually Skye, pounces and bites through the bedspread, latching on to my toes.

But a couple months ago I found myself more fatigued than usual. I knew something was amiss while playing tennis when my energy level plummeted and I became winded playing doubles. Nobody gets winded in doubles. Plus I was short of breath just walking upstairs.

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A Billion Dollar Business

A while back I blogged disparagingly about the FDA, how they approve thousands of drugs that end up being recalled, or worse, killing people. Can you believe there are over 20,000 prescription drug products approved for marketing? Commercials list horror stories of side effects, and not the good kind like suppressing the appetite or reducing the appearance of wrinkles. I remember thinking, how on earth did that drug ever pass clinical trials?

The pharmaceutical business is just that — a business. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying everyone associated with creating and/or approving drugs for marketing is only in it for the cash but the yearly billion-dollar-budget pharmaceuticals pay to those who regulate the drugs they’re peddling seems a bit self-serving, don’t you think?

Take the latest push to sell QUVIVIQ, a drug that purports to help with insomnia. Actor Taye Diggs has the affliction (as do I, which I blogged about last Sunday). In the commercial he talks about counting sheep and listening to white noise and nature sounds, all to no avail.

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Lucky Me

I’m sitting here writing next to my best friend of late. My best friend being a box of Kleenex. My third box, to be exact. Nearly 195 supposedly ultra soft facial tissues have been my constant companion since I contracted Covid 2 1/2 weeks ago.

I guess I’m officially an old lady now since a sure sign is when one stuffs a Kleenex up a sleeve or keeps it within reach in the car. I always wondered why that was. Do old ladies get runny noses more often than young ones? Perhaps. But in my defense, I plan to go back to being Kleenex-free once this awful illness decides to leave my body.

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Be Careful What You Wish For

It appears nothing interesting happened this week so I posted this blog from 2018 out of desperation…

I’m driving along, again wondering what I should blog about this week. What can I write that you might want to read? So I thought, I wish something interesting would happen so I don’t resort to posting a previous blog out of desperation. Word of advice:

be careful what you wish for

Recently I’ve undergone some procedures: a bone scan for oldies like me, a pap smear, mammogram…all the fun stuff. So I’m getting my pap when the doctor says, “I see you have osteoporosis.” What? Appears my bone scan showed I’d graduated from soft bones to full-fledged-about-to-crumble-bones.

Oh the joys of being short, small-boned and Caucasian (risk factors for osteoporosis).

Then the next day I had a mammogram even though, as I’m pushing 63, they suggest doing it every 2-3 years. They can suggest all they want; I get one every year.

better safe than sorry

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