It rained all night last night. Today the clouds are still thick, and there are puddles of water everywhere. I walked Sara out to her car this morning; the air was muggy and still smelled like rain.
When I experience days like today they remind me of when I was a kid and I would go to a friends house to play. I remember the same smell in the air as we searched around for worms with sticks still wet from the rain.
He had a huge wooden treehouse-like fort that his Dad built him. The wood would still be drying out as we made our way to the top of the fort to see the entire yard. Our pockets would be full of different toys and other things that we would call "weapons" even though we called them "treasures" around our Moms because we knew they would probably get mad.
Our "weapons" were kept in an old shoe box. They were mostly sharped sticks taped to other sticks so the would look like mini swords. When we would go shopping with our Mom's, we would pick-up little pieces of plastic and junk to keep in our "weapon box" to be used in creating better swords. We kept the box outside by his Dad's workshop, next to the big fort.
One time we decided to make our little group of friends and siblings a club. I designed (go figure), a bunch of member cards with all of our names on them. I remember handing them out to everyone, except my best friend. As a joke, I told him that I didn't make one for him; he looked crushed before I pulled his extra special club card out from a different pocket. I still remember his face when I told him a didn't make one for him, and think about it to this day.
For some reason I remember the rainy days the most. Probably because those were the days that our play was most interrupted. Those were the days that we had to be the most creative in what we wanted to do with our day.
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In a couple of hours Sara and I are going to make our way back down to the city for another appointment at Northwestern. This'll be my third appointment down there in three weeks. I'm getting sick of the cafeteria that I used to love so much. It's not that same food as what the patients get. It's actually pretty nice. Sara and my family would go get me "real food" from down there when I was admitted. Their cookies remind me of my time there the most; stuck in a bed for days and so happy to see Sara walk through the door with an oatmeal raisin cookie. Life can be pretty simple sometimes.
The doc is considering a new medication that is for seizures, but one of the side effects is weight loss. The other medications I'm on cause weight gain and it's been showing. He and I are nervous that my weight could lead to heart problems, not to mention worsen my diabetes. They're more worrisome than seizures at the moment.
Of course there are other side effects. Two big ones being liver failure and some sort of anemia. I'll have to have a blood test every month or so. This seems all pretty routine to me. Sad but true.
Along with my doctor visit I have to get a bone density test. I was told that I should've gotten one a while ago. Sara knows why, it's slipped my mind. Maybe all the meds I've been taking over the years.
Today will be busy, and the next couple weeks will be scary. I'm nervous.
