Harriet M. Welch

Today I brought a printout of the conversation I had in my head last week to my t appointment. I gave J the background story – about my son, and his medical situation and the tests he needs and the blood test success story and the barium x-ray not so successful story. I told him about my son’s anxieties and phobias. Then he read the conversation with the voice in my head (VIMH).

While he was reading I was looking around. I noticed the Purell. When he was done I told him that he can use the Purell. Since I mentioned it three weeks ago he hasn’t used it when I come in. He said he can’t use it today and showed me two open blisters he had on his hands. He said he used it yesterday and Ouch! I said, but seriously, its fine that you use the Purell, I didn’t mean to make you stop using it. He said, it’s only been three weeks since you said anything, and I said, “And you haven’t used it in front of me since then.” He said he only uses it about twice a day, and wouldn’t you know since I am the first person he sees in the morning he has been doing paperwork and typing and feels his hands might be germy. I said, “So it has nothing to do with me, and the fact that I emanate germs and you have to disinfect when I walk in? Maybe you need a spray version of it so that you can get all the germs I give off.” He said, “Well, I do disinfect the couch before you come in.” And I said, “And after, too, I hope.”

Then we talked about the VIMH. He said it’s great that I wrote that all out, and that I gave this voice an entity. He said he knew about someone with an eating disorder, and she gave it a name. I said, “Ed?” He said, no that would be too obvious. “Nigel.” (??)

But giving the disorder a name had some purpose; I can’t remember what it is now. He said I should give the VIMH a name. I’ve been thinking about that, it would scare me to give it a name. It would have too much power if it had a name, wouldn’t it?

He said obviously no matter what I do, this voice will tell me it’s not enough. What if I see a turtle crossing the road and pick it up and put it in the grass and even give it a little bowl of water. The voice would say, what about all of the other turtles, why aren’t you taking care of them?

That reminded me of an article I read about a jellyfish. J and I had talked about jellyfish a few weeks ago. I asked if he heard about the big jellyfish in New Hampshire. He hadn’t. So I told him the story. A 40 pound jellyfish wandered in the water of New Hampshire, where this type of jellyfish doesn’t usually venture. It somehow died and broke apart, but the jellyfish tentacles can still sting even when they are not attached to the jellyfish body. That morning in New Hampshire 150 people got stung by the tentacles and five people had to go to the hospital.

So that was a little tangent.

Back to the VIMH. He talked about the validity of the real me vs the VIMH. He asked which one is more valid, and I said, “Logically, or which do I believe?” He thinks the real me is correct more often than the voice. We talked about times when the voice might be good, like if you have the impulse to do something bad or wrong and the voice tells you not to. But generally, the voice is incorrect, and operating out of lack of objective evidence.

He told me about the id, ego and super ego of Freud, and what each one does. He said my super ego is very harsh.

He asked what I ultimately decided – who is right, me or the voice? I said that I posted this on my blog and everyone says it is ok that I felt good about myself when I helped my son, and that I did help him. But I said that of course they all said that, they had to. They aren’t going to post mean things to me on my own blog. He went over the whole thing with me and told me that I did a good job and I should feel good about it. He asked if I think EMTs feel bad when they help people. It’s not like they sit around saying, “I hope we have a few good car accidents today.” I said, “Maybe they do. If they don’t have accidents they can lose their jobs.”

I told J that no matter what anyone said to me, I didn’t believe that I made things better for my son until I actually asked him and he said that the things I did were helpful.

I asked him how the voice got in my head, and he asked me how long it has been there. I have no idea. I asked what the voice gets out of saying mean things to me. I was thinking that it’s hard to be good all the time, there is so much pressure. But J was telling me about how it’s easy to get into a pattern of what you know, it is comfortable. Even if it is abusive. For example if a child is abused she may end up marrying someone abusive, because that is what she knows. I was confused about this part and what it had to do with the voice.

I asked him how to get the voice out of my head. I told him that I want to kill it. He asked what I meant by kill. Silence. I don’t think I answered.

He said rather than get rid of it, I need to make the “me” louder and the voice quieter. I asked how I do that. I’m drawing a blank here. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think I got an answer. I don’t think J knows the answer, and this happens week after week. He tells me I need to do something, but he doesn’t tell me how. I would like to make the VIMH quieter, but how?

He said it is like a bully, and it is very harsh and it has been making me feel bad about myself for a long time. And he told me how to stand up to a bully, but I can’t remember that now. He said I am smarter and stronger than the bully, and I said I don’t think I am, but he says I am.

He also asked me how my son was after the blood test and I told him how talkative he was, and how he is planning on taking some classes at the community college. This led to a whole discussion about how I am being supportive of him and making him feel good about himself, and how I can continue doing this. I told him that my husband made my son feel bad because he said to him, “Are you really going to go to classes? Are you really going to do your work?” And I thought it was a stupid thing to say, because my son finally got the motivation to think about school, it’s not like we are pushing him into it. And I think we need to be supportive and positive, and my husband was being very negative. J asked if I said anything to my husband about this, and I said no. He suggested talking to my husband and telling him we need to be united and present a supportive front. I told him it sounded very patronizing to me. I wouldn’t like it if he talked to me that way. I don’t plan to talk to my husband about this. Unfortunately my son now knows not to talk his father about his plans, because he’ll just be shot down. But the thought of talking to my husband as though he is a child isn’t appealing to me either.

So although we did a lot of talking today, I don’t feel that anything is resolved. This is continually happening. I know I need to change, and what needs to change, but I don’t know how to do it. And J doesn’t seem to be able to tell me how either. I’m starting to think “What’s the point?”

Tags: husband, son, therapy, vimh

Friday afternoon I got an IM from my son. He said, “I’m sorry i didn’t go, i built it up bigger in my head than it was and i was more scared than i was with the blood test, i don’t know why, but i was the one who convinced myself not to do it, not anyone else”

He deleted the facebook comment I made. He said his friend saw it and was angry and hurt about it. We talked about it, and decided that since he had copied and pasted me some things she said about his upcoming testing, that I had gotten it out of context and therefore it was a misunderstanding. I still think his friends weren’t particularly encouraging to him, but hey, they are teenagers and very young adults, all of whom are on the immature side. It’s a learning experience.

We talked about what he is going to say when he calls the doctor tomorrow. He’ll be talking to the doctor’s assistant, which is probably less threatening (the doctor is very very nice, but still…)

In the meantime, he is still having issues with nausea and vomiting. Not a pleasant way to live. I hope we can find a way out of this without too much anxiety. This house seems to be reverberating with anxiety.

Did I mention my husband’s anxiety? He throws up every morning when he is under stress. It’s more like really bad gagging, or dry heaves. This began when he started working for a law firm back in 1988. We didn’t know what was wrong with him and he had tons of tests (including the barium x-ray) and they couldn’t find anything wrong with him. We figure its anxiety. It comes and goes, usually lasts a couple of months at a time, and usually caused by stress at work, or money problems at home. It’s been really bad lately.

Tags: anxiety, husband, son

I saw someone write out a conversation with herself on her blog, but I can’t remember who’s blog it was. I am stealing the idea, if this came from you please let me know so I can credit you.

This was my conversation with my myself this week:

Me: I feel good that I was able help my son get through his blood test despite his fear.

Voice in my head (VIMH): Great, that’s what it takes for you to feel good about yourself, your son getting sick?

Me: Well, I don’t want him to be sick, but I thought I was helpful.

VIMH: You probably made it worse. You made such a big deal out of the whole thing, with the numbing cream, and the Xanax, and laying down…. He was probably freaking out because of you.

Me: Maybe….

VIMH: If K (my husband) had brought him it wouldn’t have been such a big deal and probably easier.

Me: But K didn’t know the right things to tell the doctor about the blood test, or to ask about the Xanax, or to order the lidocaine cream, or to call the lab to find out if it is ok to use it, or to ask the technician if A could lay down.

VIMH: Yeah, and those things probably embarrassed A so much.

Me: I was trying to be helpful.

VIMH: Why – so you could feel better about yourself, or so you could help your son?

Me: So I could help my son, but I did feel good about it.

VIMH: Even if you didn’t make it worse, it’s nothing to feel good about. It’s your job as a mother.

Me: I know, but some people don’t know how to do the job.

VIMH: And you think you do?

Me: I thought I know how to handle his anxiety. But maybe I did make it worse. Maybe K should have taken him.

VIMH: K never would have taken him and you know it. It’s not his job.

Me: Right, I’m in charge of that kind of stuff.

VIMH: So when it gets screwed up it’s all your fault. Like today when A wouldn’t go to the lab to have the x-ray.

Me: I know that I said the wrong thing when I told him that he should just try to drink the barium, and if he can’t do it we can leave.

VIMH: Exactly. That was totally the wrong thing to say, because it allowed him to think that this isn’t even important, that there is another test he can do. So why would he bother even doing this?

Me: Yes, I feel bad now. I feel bad for feeling good about myself when my son is sick, and maybe making his anxiety worse, and I feel bad for telling him to just try to drink the barium instead of insisting he do it.

VIMH: Good for you! You should feel bad about yourself. You suck at this.

Tags: guilt, parenting, son

We should be at the hospital right now for my son, A’s, barium xray. However when I woke up at 6:30am there was a text message from him, sent at 5am, that said, “I don’t want to do it, don’t wake me up in the morning.”

I went in there at 7am and told him he had to go. That he had to at least try to do it. He whined and said, no, he is not going. I tried to make him feel guilty, I told him that I cancelled my own doctor’s appointment this morning to do this (which was true – I had an appointment at the orthopedist and those are hard to get). I said we are leaving at 8:30.

At 8:15 I went in there and said “We are leaving in 15 minutes.”

At 8:30 I went in and said we are leaving and he said no. He is not going. I told him that I am done with this, if he wants to feel sick that is his choice and I slammed the door.

Then I posted a nasty message on his facebook that said: To all of A’s “friends” who convinced him that he would not be able to go through with his medical procedure this morning – what would you suggest we do next? You are obviously all “experts”. Why don’t you take over his medical care?

Of course it is not their fault, but I don’t think they are being very supportive either. He told me that they all said he’d never be able to drink the stuff; that some of them had this procedure and it is really disgusting and he’ll just throw up if he tries to drink it.

I had told him last week that he has to at least try, and if he can’t do it we’ll leave. Then he can have another test, an endoscopy. But now I’m thinking that was the wrong thing to tell him, because I guess he figured he didn’t really need to do this. I feel bad about that right now.

I wish he hadn’t waited until the last minute to cancel however.

Now the ball is in his court – I’m going to tell him if he wishes to proceed with diagnosing his problem he can contact the doctor for the next step.

Tags: medical, son

My son called the doctor today to check on the results of the blood work (he’s over 18 so I can’t do it for him!) He was so good, he typed out every word the doctor said and emailed it to me. Everything was normal.

Tomorrow is the barium xray. There isn’t anything I can do to help him with that one.

I asked him if he thought I made his anxiety worse by getting the lidocaine cream and the Xanax, and asking the tech if he could lay down, and all of the rest of it, etc. And he said, “No it helped.” The only thing he thought we could have done to improve it was if he had gotten dressed before I put on the cream. Having that cream with the plastic wrap and tape on both arms made it difficult to get his shirt on.

Will remember that in the future.

Tags: anxiety, medication, son

Yesterday when J asked me about when I feel worthwhile, I thought a bit and then said, “When I feel needed.” And I had been thinking about how I do feel needed right now, due to my son’s medical issues.

I thought if I was dead the following would not have happened:

1. No one would have told the doctor about A’s needle phobia and that any blood that had to be drawn would have to be done in one session, because it would be highly unlikely that he would do this more than once
2. No one would have asked the doctor if he could take some Xanax before the blood test
3. No one would have had any Xanax, or even would have known the proper dosage (well, I did need a little help with that)
4. No one would have thought to use the lidocaine cream
5. No one would have called the lab to see if they had anyone experienced in dealing with needle phobias and to see if it was ok to use the lidocaine cream and how to use it
6. No one would have called the doctor’s office to prescribe the lidocaine cream
7. No one would have known how to apply the cream, with the plastic wrap and the tape (the generic version doesn’t come with the handy plastic cover sheets with tape built right in)
8. No one would have asked the technician if she could do the blood test with my son lying down
9. No one would have known when to stop him from saying, “Wait, I’m not ready” and to take control and say, “You’ll never be ready. Take a deep breath and lay down.”

Was this helpful to him? I don’t know. Maybe he would have done the blood test just fine without those things. But I felt needed. And then you know what?

I felt guilty. My son is having medical problems, he feels like shit, and I am feeling good about myself because he needs me. How awful is that? It’s actually shameful.

And, frankly, maybe instead of helping him, I actually made the whole thing worse. By making such a big deal out of his anxiety maybe I was making him MORE anxious, instead of doing things to lessen his anxiety.

Maybe if I was dead, and my husband had to handle this, he would have just showed up at the lab, and sent my son in, and he would have had the same result in the end – two tubes of blood.

I just want to know why I can’t feel good about anything. What is it about me that makes me feel like I can’t like myself, that I can’t feel proud of myself, that I can’t feel like I’ve done something right?

If it had been someone else in my situation I would have praised them for being so empathetic and caring towards their child. But, here I am, concluding that I have made things worse. I really don’t understand the way my mind works, and why this happens.

Tags: guilt, shame, son

I texted my daughter yesterday while she was still at the horse show (she’s been there for 4 days!) to see how she did. This was her second day competing, and as you read yesterday it was a disaster on Saturday. But, it didn’t go much better yesterday. She said her horse (the horse she was riding, it is someone else’s horse) refused on its first trip, so she scratched the second trip and the under saddle. She also said she wasn’t feeling well, that she had a stomach ache and a sore throat. I told her she should come home, but she wanted to stay today, not to compete but to help out and watch her friends. She still isn’t home and it is after 7PM.

My son had his blood test today. I put on his lidocaine cream at noon, then covered it with plastic wrap and taped it down. The lab told me to do both arms. Then at 1PM I gave him 1mg of Xanax. Our appointment was at 2PM. He seemed to be doing ok, he doesn’t really show any outward signs of anxiety.

When we got called into the lab room I asked the tech if we could have a room where he could lie down, and she said, sure no problem. We went into another room. He sat on the bed (whatever you call that thing), but he wouldn’t lie down. He kept saying, “Wait, wait.” That’s what he always does, he says he’s not ready and we need to wait. He was crying too. We gave him some time to breathe and the tech explained everything; she said she was going to use a butterfly needle which is very, very thin. She did say, “It won’t hurt a bit” which is a total lie, but at least he knows that.

Finally I said, you are never going to be ready, take a breath and lie down. He took a breath and I pushed him back into a lying down position. I didn’t shove him, just pushed gently. The tech gave him two test tubes (plastic, I asked) to squeeze and with his other hand he squeezed my hand. He had his eyes tightly shut and he was crying and shaking, but she quickly put on the tourniquet. She said “On the count of 3 take a deep breath” which he did, and she put in the needle. She quickly drew two tubes of blood and got that needle out of there. It was over very quickly.

He laid on the table for a while, calming himself, then got up and we left. He was very quiet. I asked if he wanted a treat or something to eat and he said no. About a quarter of a mile away he said, “Can I get Burger King?” So I stopped there and he got some food.

Then, because he was so relieved to have it be over with, or because of the Xanax, he became very talkative. I mentioned that my mother in law said he told her that he is going to take a course at the community college in September, and he said, “Oh yeah, I need to sign up for that!” This was news to me. We talked about what courses he might like to take, and whether the bus goes there, and that his grandmother offered to take him a couple times a week. He was so talkative! I think he was really glad that it was over.

I told him he did great and that he should be proud of himself. And if he could do this, he can definitely do the barium x-ray, which is on Friday. At least that isn’t painful.

I’m so proud of him too. It was so hard for him, but he did it.

Tags: anxiety, daughter, son

Yesterday my husband and I went to see my daughter in a horse show. We rarely go, but this could be the last one before she leaves for college. She doesn’t particularly like us to be there, and she gets very nervous when people are watching her. There have been times when I have snuck unseen into horse shows to watch her without her knowing I am there.

We were talking with her coach and some other riders yesterday about how she needs a sports psychologist. She is a pretty good rider, not great, but ok, she doesn’t do rated shows, just local ones. But when she gets in front of a judge everything falls apart. She gets so worked up and tense and nervous. And when I am there it is one hundred times worse. Her coach was telling us how well she did in a show a couple of weeks ago, and the assistant said, “M says she does much better when people aren’t watching her.”

So this show was 1 hour and 45 minutes away, in another state, and of course she never knows what time she’ll be riding. These shows are so boring. First she said she would ride at about 9:30 or 10am, but she actually rode at 2pm. She was riding someone else’s horse, and he is a very good horse. When she was practicing, he did great.

Then it was time to go into the ring, and I said something really stupid. I don’t what got into me, perhaps I was trying to use humor to diffuse the situation, or maybe I was delirious from sitting in the 95 degree heat for 4 hours waiting for her. But I said, “Do good! I hope this will be worth it!” Meaning, worth it for me to travel all the way there and sit there waiting for so long. I know it was such a stupid thing to say.

Then she went into the ring and did terribly. Her horse refused a couple of times, and on her second course she forgot the course! That has never happened. She was riding around and she got to near where her coach was standing and said, “Where do I go?” Argh. Frankly, I can’t figure out how the riders remember the courses, and they have to do two courses, each in a different pattern. So I’m sure it is easy to forget, as a matter of fact the rider before her left off part of the course. But my daugher has never forgotten the course.

So needless to say it was awful, and she was very upset and wouldn’t talk. She did better in the under saddle (the non jumping part) and got a 4th place ribbon (I think there were 6 or 7 riders in the division).

Then we left. I felt so bad about my comment, and I told my friend about it who was there with her daughter. She said something like, “If we said the perfect thing all of the time we wouldn’t be real parents”. It just made me feel so badly because I know she is already under so much of her own pressure when she competes. I’ve tried to tell her that she doesn’t have to show, that she can just ride for pleasure, but she likes to go to shows. I think she likes the social aspect of it, and watching everyone else compete. She is normally a very confident, non-anxious person. This is the only time she has problems.

And tomorrow my son has his blood test at 2pm eastern time. Please send positive thoughts our way if you remember! We’re doing Emla cream to numb him, and xanax to sedate him. I called the lab to see if they have anyone experienced in dealing with people with phobias and they gave me the exact answer I knew they would, “Sure, everyone here!” Yeah, right.

Being a parent is hard sometimes.

Tags: anxiety, daughter, guilt, son

Went to the gynecologist today. I told him about my experiment with taking the last week off of the pill packs and the emotional upheaval and he said it is fine for me to stay on the b/c pills for another year or two and never take another week off. He said around age 52 is the cut off, but then I can start hormone replacement. Eh, I’m not planning that far ahead. I just am glad I can continue on the pills and not take any more weeks off.

I love my gynecologist. I’ve been seeing him since before my son was born, and he is now 20. He is really handsome and about 15 years older than me. Wait, let me google him and check that. Hold on….

OK, he graduated college in 1968. Assuming he was 21 then he would be 63 now. I wish he was my therapist instead of gynecologist. Oh well, then I probably wouldn’t love him as much. I ran into him at the grocery store once, and before he saw me I made a beeline for the exit. That’s kind of ick – seeing one’s gynecologist out on the free range. Every year I ask him if he is going to retire and every year he says no. So far he’s been truthful.

Also every year he tries to give me a sample pack of b/c pills. But I normally take the generic kind and he tries to give me a sample of the non-generic kind. I have told him the non-generic kind gives me migraines and he says, “They are the same!” And I always say, “They are NOT the same!” We go through this every year. I always win, because I say, “You’ve never taken them!” I also tell him I don’t feel comfortable taking samples because I am sure that he has patients who cannot afford b/c pills, and with my insurance they are so damn cheap. So I tell him to save them for those patients.

I have excellent gynecological health, so I only see him once a year. So sad.

Tomorrow is back to therapy. Meh.

I have written up the script on index cards for J. My part in pink, his in blue. I’d like to video our session, or record it. But I would never do that.

I’ve been feeling down for the last few days. Tomorrow my daughter is turning 18 and tonight she had 5 friends over and I made a nice dinner for them. We did the same thing last year. Here’s some food pics. I made the chocolate trifle, I know you guys love that! If we ever all got together I would definitely make one for you.

I made shrimp, two kinds of orzo, and the trifle. I didn’t make the bread, I bought that. Doing all of this cheered me up a little.

So here is the final version of the script, thank you to everyone who helped me to write it:

Me: I wanted to talk about how I felt two weeks ago when you told me as I was walking out the door that you wouldn’t be here the next week.

J: OK. What type of feelings did that bring up for you? Again, I apologize for not letting you know earlier. I’m glad you wrote me before I left so that I knew I had screwed up.

Me: I’m hesitant to mention it because a couple of months ago you forgot to answer an email, and when I brought it up in our session I thought you got defensive because your response was, “How many times have I NOT forgotten to return your emails?”

J: Perhaps my comment did seem defensive and more focused on my feelings than on yours. I said that because I wanted to remind you that I am only human. I make mistakes too. But I can see how you might have heard that as being defensive. Do you think I’ll be defensive in our discussion of the vacation?

Me: I thought you got defensive, and maybe you were just trying to point out the truth of the situation. And that was the truth. But I wanted to talk about how I felt, and when you said that it made me feel worse, like I am expecting too much and that I am too critical.

J: So when I responded that way you thought I didn’t want to hear about your feelings?

Me: Yes, and now because of that I’m not sure if I should talk about how I felt two weeks ago because I don’t want to be petty; you did give me a week’s notice.

J: It isn’t petty to want to discuss how you felt about a situation or circumstance. That is what we do in therapy – discuss our feelings and reactions to events. Would you like to share now, how it affected you when I announced I’d be gone last week, and it was a surprise to you to hear this?

Me: I felt like I didn’t matter when you told me at the last minute that you were going on vacation. Usually you would tell me further in advance, and I thought maybe it was a last minute decision but the way you asked me made it seem like it wasn’t. You didn’t say, “Don’t forget I won’t be here next week”, you said, “Did I tell you I won’t be here next week?” which made me think that you knew the week before that you wouldn’t be here and you just didn’t tell me. And that brought up the usual feelings I get of being unimportant, without value, worthless, etc.

J: So you felt like I didn’t tell you in advance because you are not important enough to keep informed? I’m sorry that the result of my mistake is that you feel bad about yourself. Tell me more about how you felt when you realized I’d be gone and I hadn’t told you earlier.

I’m hoping we can do this conversation my way, and then repeat it with J saying the things he would really say. I’ll be sure to report back tomorrow.

Tags: daughter, emotions, food, therapy

Yesterday I took my son to the doctor because he has been having GI problems. He is always nauseous, particularly after he eats, and he often throws up after he eats. I thought the doctor would just give him some medicine, but he wants him to have some blood work and a barium xray. This would not be a problem for most people, but my son (who is 20) has a terrible phobia of doctors and needles. Now he is deciding whether to have the blood test this week or next. He knows he doesn’t want it at all, but he is trying to decide whether to put it off a week, which means a lot of anxiety for a week, or get it over with. And a friend of his told him she had the barium xray and she is sure he won’t be able to do it, because he won’t be able to drink the stuff because it is gross. He gags just eating chicken. I feel very badly for him. He is eating less than usual; he normally eats just once a day. And he eats junk, and drinks a lot of soda. I think he has lost weight – at the office he weighed 125 with clothes and shoes, and he is six feet tall. The doctor said it could be a sluggish stomach, or h. pylori, or celiac disease, or crohn’s disease. Great choices? NOT. My son was asking me about it last night, and he seems very worried. I asked the doctor if I could give him some klonopin or xanax before the blood test and he said that would be fine.

Tomorrow I see the gynecologist. I’m trying to decide how much to tell him. Maybe I don’t even need to say anything; I’ll just go back to taking the birth control pills continuously without the week off. I’m hesitant to tell him anything that will make him think I’m unstable. For example in June, when I was having my period, and I got into that rage and was “organizing” my daughter’s junk in the garage and broke a bottle, then picked up a piece of the broken glass and cut my arm with it. I didn’t even tell my t about that. My gynecologist will most likely not be so understanding. But I do want him to know that I think that my hormone levels seem to be effecting my emotions, so maybe I’ll just tone it down a little and tell him I was throwing the broken glass into the recycling bin trying to smash it.

Meanwhile, I’ve been bleeding for 7 days now. That’s a long period for me. It’s not heavy or crampy, just ongoing. But I start a new pill pack tonight, so hopefully it will stop. I also developed a migraine yesterday morning, I was having some stress as a combination of work and my daughter’s car having repairs and arguing with the warranty company, and this headache goes away when I take my migraine meds, but comes back after about 4 or 5 hours. That was the original reason I stopped taking the week off the pills, because whenever I stopped for a week I would get a migraine.

Then I had a terrible run this morning. It was pouring rain, and 95% humidity, and my Achilles’ are just hurting me so bad. I think I really have to admit I have Achilles tendonitis, and I need to stop running for a while. I just don’t have time for physical therapy. I don’t know what I’ll do if I have to stop running.

I’m sorry this is whiney.

And this isn’t even everything – you wouldn’t believe what is happening at work.

But one good thing happened, my boss invited me to “movie night”, a weekly event he is having at his home for his sons and their friends. He has a home theater in the basement, complete with popcorn maker. So I brought a bottle of wine, and watched the movie “Serious Man” with boss, his two sons, and a few of their friends. Lots of testosterone in the room! It was a wonderful movie. One thing you can’t deny about the Coen brothers – they really know how to end a movie.

At first I wasn’t sure whether I would go, but I’m glad I did. It was fun.

Tags: gynecologist, hormones, running, son, work