1) Volleyball practice lasted until 9:00 last night, so by the time the girls got home, ate a snack, showered and we all sat down to pray the rosary, it was 11:00. So we all got to sleep in until nine. Yippeeeee!
2) Meelyn and Aisling each put several hours of work into their Rosary Around the World projects for ARCHES. Meelyn's country is Ireland because she feels a solidarity to the old country and Aisling is doing Japan because she likes volcanos. Both projects did give them the chance to highlight Our Lady of Knock and Our Lady of Akita. So that's nice.
3) I went to my final doctor's appointment today and have been pronounced Well and Healed, although I'm still on the antibiotic. Which is still making me feel nauseous. Just in case, you know, you were wondering.
4) The girls and I breezed into the Hallmark shop in New Castle to have a peek at their Webkins stuff.
5) Late in the afternoon, we drove to Fishers to this running store that is named The Running Store (where they come up with these crazy, imaginative names for businesses, I just can't fathom) and bought my husband an arm band with a little holder on it for his cell phone. After we got separated in a crowd of 60,000 people at the Indianapolis Mini-Marathon last May, we decided we never wanted to go through such irritation again. So now, he can carry his phone in this little do-dad and will hopefully call us at the beginning of the last mile so that we can go watch him cross the finish line.
6) I had to call our cell phone company's Customer Service line today and explain to them how I could have been such an eejit as to lose a cell phone after only nine days (I blame it on the Vicodin) and order a new one, a mere bagatelle at $60. Arrrrrghhhhhhh..... It should arrive in three business days, which I estimate is exactly the amount of time it will take for my other cell phone, now canceled out, to become unlost. You just know that's what's going to happen, right? You'll know when it does happen because you will hear me screaming like a banshee, all the over to where you live.
7) We drove down to Ft. Benjamin Harrison to pick up my husband's runner's packet for the Indianapolis Marathon tomorrow. We are leaving at 6:45 a.m., yet here I am at 12:48 a.m., typing.
8) Husband and I had a lovely little dinner at Bob Evans. He carbed up with chicken fried steak, three dinner rolls, two servings of mashed potatoes and gravy and a piece of banana bread. I had roasted pork loin and mashed potatoes on an open face sandwich with gravy - a pork Manhattan, perhaps? All I know is that it is a major comfort food, a cozy reminder of the wonderful school lunches served between 1969 and 1974 at James Whitcomb Riley Elementary School in New Castle, Indiana.
9) Something very, very weird happened today. My mother has a friend who happens to be a nurse practitioner who assisted with my minor surgery last week. I didn't know that this person was a friend of my mother's; likewise, the nurse practitioner didn't know that I was the daughter of one of her friends. My mother saw her at church and said, "You saw my daughter as a patient this week" and her friend, the medical professional, said something indiscreet about the procedure that was done on my person.
I was so startled by this at first that it didn't really register with me. I mulled it over for several hours and then settled on thoughts like "violation of privacy" and "outrage." I mean, this indiscretion was revealed to my mother, who knew all about what was going on anyway. But the medical professional apparently gave up her bit of information voluntarily. And this was a delicate subject, you understand. I'm definitely not loving the idea of my delicate procedure being discussed in the foyer of my parents' church, even if the conversation was brief, even if it was with my mother.
I told my husband about it because he has a very level head and he doesn't get all freaky-beaky about about stuff the way I do. I figured he'd help me sort out my thoughts. His thoughts were: "What she did was really unprofessional and wrong. Don't let them schedule an appointment for you with her again."
This is very bothersome, because she was so nice. She put me at ease in a situation that was both painful and scary and, well....delicate. I'm really disappointed that she didn't protect my privacy and say kindly, "Oh, that was your daughter? Well, how nice. But I just can't talk about my patients, even to their mamas!"
SURVIVOR! 42 years! #SisterhoodoftheTravelingPinkSweater - [image: photo DCE66A95-A69B-406C-A811-97D584B6979A_zpsuhhubjtt.jpg] This is my friend Mary. Mary is a 42-year survivor of breast cancer. That, of course, is...
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