We're currently en route to Minnesota. For those of you who hadn't heard, they moved my appointment at the Mayo Clinic up several weeks - from December 3rd to this Wednesday. Mark is house-sitting for us while his house is in the demolition phase of being remodeled. Mark and his horse-sized German Sheppard, Friendly, who bites first and asks questions later. Just thought I'd toss that little detail out there, in case any of you were thinking you might seize this nifty opportunity to rob us blind. ...Ahem, Lisa! I'll have you know all of my pottery pieces are booby-trapped. =)
We are currently seven hours into the trip, taking a little pit stop in Ankeny, Iowa. (With my balance/barfy issues, we decided the altitude changes of flying would be a special kind of fun I wasn't up for.) Good 'ole Iowa - Land 'O Corn Fields As Far As The Eye Can See. And, may I add, chilly temperatures. It's cold in these parts. ...A new kind of cold, in fact. We stepped out of the car at our hotel and very promptly reached for our mittens and "poofy" coats. After, first, watching our breath freeze mid-sentence and form stalactites from our chins. Yowser! By the time we get to Rochester we're going to be two little wimpy popsickles.
If you think of us this week, please pray. For me - that I will be patient during the additional testing that most likely will be necessary, that I won't be fearful while awaiting the diagnosis of whatever this junk is, and for diagnosing wisdom for the doctors. Especially for diagnosing wisdom for the doctors. Sweet criminy, we need Mayo to rock it in the Crack-the-Case department. Because truthfully, at this point I think I'm equally afraid of them not being able to figure this crapola out as I am of them returning with some horrible verdict. I know, quite the statement, huh. I'm just tired of feeling like poo, peeps. I can't even tell you. My whole family is tired of me feeling like poo. Poo is not particularly fun to live with.
Pray for Russ, too, who has a long week of sitting-and-twiddling-his-thumbs ahead of him.
I'll try to keep you informed as we go along.
P.S. Sophie, as you can tell from her Sophie-ism comment, is just missing us horribly. Not.