Yesterday, I got to go to the doctor for the second time in two weeks. This is exciting for me, because before that I was able to effectively avoid any sort of medical attention for almost six years {with the exception of the 5 minute doctor appointment, wherein I begged for new Migraine medicine and they acquiesced}.

For the most part, if I can’t cure it with Motrin and Sleep, I assume that God is doing his best to simply Call Me Up To Heaven, and I roll with it. Sometimes, to shake it up a bit, I’ll throw in an over-the-counter allergy medicine {because, as every good Catholic knows, allergies are from The Devil}.

But Wednesday morning, I woke up with a numb spot on my left thigh. I thought I had perhaps slept on it funny, and it was just asleep. 36 hours later, the skin was still dull-tingly, with reduced sensations. It was a bit unnerving, bust mostly it just made it impossible to wear pants, which felt normal everywhere else on my legs. James implored me to call the doctor.

No.

Christine told me it sounded like something I should take to the doctor.

Nope.

My mother told me that it was something that I should be seeking medical attention over.

Nnnnnn0000000.

Finally Christine said something that caught my attention: Compacted nerve.

I am not nice to my nerves, as a rule. I run at 97% stress 99% of the time. I fill my body with caffeine and cake. But I remember my mother uttering those same words as she laid on the couch with a pinched Sciatic nerve for a week.

I would rather chew my own leg off than have to lay in one place for a week. I called the doctor.

After I was poked with a broken tongue depressor, it was determined that I have developed a Peripheral Neuropathy, and I have to stop sitting on my foot while I write, sleep like a normal person {translate: not with my legs tucked up underneath me} and take Aleve for the next five days. Essentially, I’ve somehow added undue pressure to a nerve in my leg, and it is consequently not playing nice with the rest of my body. Namely, it has given me a numb spot on my leg. It does not appear to be life-threatening {which I suspected it might be} but it is not All In My Head {like I suspect James suspected it might be}.

If, after a week, I am still numb, or if it spreads or changes locations, I then get to see a Neurologist.

… All I have to say to that is that if it gets to that point, he had better look a lot like McDreamy.

-MM.

James is a little spoiled. Last week, I got him this fancy touchscreen watch:

Then, yesterday, he was having a rough day. So I bought him a fancy meatball griller.

{This is something that he had previously requested. It was not a shot in the dark. Though, it’s not a longshot to think that James would like something that could combine grilling and meatballs.}

It’s doubly exciting because, as I understand it, the packaging also contained a recipe!

But I do believe the real coup d’etat came with what arrived in the mail today: His very own personalized wrought iron Steak Branding tool.

You can find this little gem for your fella {here}. James hasn’t been able to use his yet, but he’s itchin’ to.

Wedding planning, moving and work is all stressful. I think it’s easy for Brides to lose sight of the fact that they deal with all that, on top of dealing with us. Sometimes, my fuse is unnaturally short and my temper is particularly volatile. He remains the person closest to me, which, at times, puts him right in striking distance.

I still love him dearly, which I tell him, as soon as my sanity returns. We work together to chat through things.

And every now and then, when I see he’s having a rough week at work, or struggling with our new living arrangements, or even for no reason at all… I’ll rustle around on Uncrate and find him something I know he’ll love.

As a small Thank You and a Big Reminder that we’re both in this together. The Team.

xo

-MM.

Grandma Betty, patroling the goldfish activity in the little backyard pond.

A little over… two?… years ago, Grandma Betty moved in with my parents. She’s my grandmother on my mother’s side, and she can make seeds grow just by looking at them. She will also feed you until you burst.

Grandma Betty classically entertained us with her stories of her childhood– specifically one about a rooster that she would always beg to have cooked for supper, because it would terrorize her. She would send us a crate of oranges and grapefruits every year for our Birthdays, and she could make anything grow just by looking at it.

Grandma Betty has turned the concrete slab behind my parents house from a potted-plant cemetery into a backyard oasis. Bird feeders, bird houses, a goldfish pond and beautiful ivy all flourish in little enclave. This afternoon, she invited me out to sit with her, and I took my SLR with  me.

A thirsty wasp chases me away from the bird feeder so he can nip a drink.

A wren, eyeing me suspiciously, as I linger too close to its birdhouse. I didn't get dive-bombed, but a squirrel definitely did.

A wild morning glory drinks in the sunshine.

One of the goldfish, hiding under the rocks at the bottom of the pond.

The other goldfish, popping up to get some sunshine, and to eat a bubble.

A rose, budding but not bloomed.

A rose, mostly bloomed.

Sunflower! It's too young to be harassed by the birds yet, but I think it's pretty all the same.

Decorative Birdhouse-- seems to be uninhabited but I like it, anyway.

A throwback to our heritage-- a Celtic cross.

A butterfly found the one weed in a part of the driveway that has loose stone, and sunned itself, slowly fanning its wings.

Queen Anne's Lace. If you look closely, you can see the red petals in the center.

I have absolutely no clue what kind of flower this is. Other than "very pretty."

Grandma, sitting in her rocking chair in the shade.

… I love spending time at home.

xo

-MM.

Over at The Wedding Blog, I posted today about who my bridesmaids will be, and how they were chosen.

It’s one of the most honest tributes I’ve been able to capture in words for my friends– I hope you enjoy it.

Find it directly {here}.

xo

-MM

“How can you sleep at a time like this? I just dreamt I was chopped into tiny pieces!”

… One thing I’ll say about James… The man is a patient, patient creature.

For the past three nights I’ve woken up from a dead sleep at 3:15 AM sharp, drenched in sweat, having just dreamt that I was being chased through a hospital by a butcher-knife wielding 20-something girl sporting scrubs, with the face of the creepy ghost from The Ring. The night before last I even woke up to think for a split second she was standing over me. With a giant knife.

Yes, I’ll admit I woke James up and made him snuggle. It’s one of the perks of sharing my bed. Nightmare Patrol, on call, 24/7.

I’m not being ridiculous people. You wouldn’t have been chomping at the bit to roll back over and nod off again, either. Trust me.

Renee told me, once, awhile ago (she may have actually been talking to someone else, because I don’t like to admit to having nightmares, because people always look at you like you’re crazy, and I get enough of that already) that between 3 and 4:30AM, that’s when your body is processing all the residual chemicals associated with stress. So if you find yourself waking up at 3:30AM and unable to nod back off, you are likely stressed about something.

Hm. Moved in with my future in-laws. Quit my job. Chasing my dreams. Applying to Grad Schools. Planning a wedding. Looking at buying property.

Nah, nothing here to raise my already buzzing level of general anxiety.

The fact that my loss of sleep correlated directly with my last day at Tretorn must be, I’m sure, total coincidence. And the girl chasing me with the giant knife? Well I’m sure Freud would just say it’s symptomatic of my penis envy (aHEM) and also not to eat so close to bedtime.

Yeah.

I’m just going to wiggle a little deeper into my denial. It’s so cozy here.

It would be lovely if I just adjusted to this new, exciting phase of my life smoothly, without dramatic incidents or emotional breakdowns.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

At least I haven’t lost my sense of humor.

-MM.

Today is my first day off the job and Jasper, my future-in-laws’ 8-year-old Siamese, has spent the morning painting the dining room with all his stomach contents– from both ends.

Which, yes, about sums it up. I’m working feverishly to make headway on the wedding planning, and get the site updated, and get the writing sample put together.

I’m also tweaking the registry today for Mom and I to finalize tomorrow. Poor woman, she came down on Saturday and I’m letting her rest today, because I plan on dragging her to the UWS and back tomorrow. Macy’s. Williams- Sonoma. Breakfast with Renee, lunch with Maxine, dinner with Amy and Allison.

Wednesday I’m heading upstate until Sunday to relax and write.

… Who relaxes, anyway, right? I feel completely scatterbrained.

Ugh.

-MM.

There has been a lot of wedding stuff happening lately, and I’m doing my best to keep it from completely overrunning Missives. For your Wedding Viewing Delight: www.11eleven11.net.

More non-frills writing soon. Promise.

xo

-MM