Today I went to a friend's daughter's 3rd birthday party at the park near our house. Little Boy had fun watching the bigger kids do all the amazing things they can do, like run. When we returned home, Audrie and I realized we had completely forgotten it was shot night, so I was a bit late getting the Avonex out of the fridge and taking my prophylactic analgesic. It's really nice to be able to forget about my shot (especially since I've never yet been in any danger of missing it altogether). When I started on Avonex, it was such a big deal, such a major change, that forgetting would have been impossible. Now it looms smaller in my daily landscape.
I called the neurologist on Monday morning to set up an appointment after missing the one the previous week. I was able to get in that afternoon, and thus far all looks well. I have not received the results of my blood work, but the doctor was very positive about my continued remission. And my phlebotomist was a fellow fan of The Nightmare Before Christmas, so we had a nice chat.
Tonight feels like old times again, because I'm taking Tylenol instead of Advil to manage the side effects of Avonex and I'm out here in the guest room, writing and preparing to sleep here. I'm having a minor surgery called a septoplasty in a couple of weeks with the goal of reducing my snoring and improving my sleep efficiency, last measured at 80%. Ibuprofin is a blood thinner in addition to an analgesic, so it's off the list for a few weeks before and after the surgery. The difference, compared to old times, is that now the baby's been born. I am grateful every day that I can carry him around (back's doing fine, btw) and play with him, because it's no longer something I take for granted. Audrie and I have a practice of telling each other something we're grateful for at each dinnertime, as a kind of Grace that appeals to us, and this body's continued good functioning often heads my list.
My current hobby is shopping for a digital camera of the "SLR" variety—that being the kind that can take a picture of what you're actually looking at, rather than of a few seconds later like my current point-and-shoot. I do have plenty of good pictures from the little camera, mind you, tonight's once-again-borrowed-from-Flickr image notwithstanding, but when it comes to catching the baby doing things I think are cute (and, being entirely unbiased on that subject, I'm certain that you would think they are cute too), a long shutter lag is a constant frustration.
I guess it has taught me the interesting fact that a few seconds after a smile, my son usually has a dopey look on his face.
Maybe I should conduct a study of smiles and learn whether this is a common human trait, then apply for an NSF grant to look into it further, and eventually discover something really deep and meaningful about the human condition. Like, maybe, that when something reaches its maximum, it immediately begins to turn into its opposite. Oh, wait, no, that's the basic principle of yin and yang. How about, that trying to sustain happiness or avoid unhappiness leads to suffering? Oops, no, someone else said that a while ago too. But anyway, the point is that the NSF should give me a really big grant and make me rich.
The humorous thing about my clever plan to get a better camera is that I often have 0.0 minutes per day to do anything but the basics of living and taking care of the baby. Paying the bills on time remains a challenge even with the baby at age 1 year. So where would I find time to read the manual and take pictures? Every other weekend, I suppose.
It was a beautiful windy day in Tucson today. I enjoyed it. I hope your day was as good.