Aside from being wildly nearsighted with really thin retinas, I have Presumed Ocular Histoplasmosis Syndrome, which, apparently, you get from a fungus that grows in the Ohio Valley? I don’t know. I’m going to have to learn more about that part.
Also, today I am going to the retina specialist. I’m freaked out. Everything will be fine. But I’m still freaked out.
I think this is a matter of how we approached going to the doctor when I was young. You went when shit was wrong. So, even though this is completely routine and, in fact, I’m going now, before things go wrong, so that he can watch and catch things before they go really wrong, I’m still freaked out about it like there’s a problem.
I had my mom write up what happened to her and how she came to have to get shots in her eyeballs. And it appears that the thing wrong with my mom is the thing the guy I’m seeing has written a book about. He’s literally written a book on my mom’s condition. Which makes me feel like I’m seeing the right guy if I’d like to avoid having needles put in my eyeballs.
Also, I stupidly told my parents they didn’t need to come down and take me to this appointment, because I am a grown-ass woman. But now, since the Butcher’s car is still sitting in a lot on Trinity Lane waiting for the arrival of its new engine, of course he has a job interview at the exact same moment I am having a medical appointment that will leave me unable to drive home.
Luckily, our friend is going to drop him off at the doctor’s office. But it’s just kind of a logistical headache.
1. The process to replace me is so grindingly slow that I am bracing myself for being the only one in my department for much of April. Every time I think about it, it makes me want to throw up. But I’m trying to prepare myself as much as I can ahead of time. And to figure out how to turn off the panic chipmunks. After all, my boss went on vacation and I ran the department and it didn’t fall apart. Still, holy shit.
2. I am completely nervous about speaking to the Demonbreun society. I have never had anxiety about speaking in front of a group before. But holy shit, I am now. The thing is that researching Timothy, Elizabeth, and Joseph has brought me such deep pleasure and interesting thing to write about and think about, but, at the end of the day, they’re not my people. I’m just a fan. These are their people. And I feel both deeply honored to get to share with them things they might not know and to give them avenues of research they might not have. It means a lot to me to get this right and to not fuck it up. I’m speaking of these people’s ancestors to them.
3. So, yes, rather than do any work on either of those things or work on the short story or the fucking afghan I’m trying to finish, I spent the evening playing video games.
So, yeah, that’s not good.