Turtles

I so do not want to be one of numerous bloggers who expound on medical issues, but what the hell, everyone else is doing it, right? And, no, I would not jump off a brigde just cause everyone else is, maybe if there were a bungee tethered to my whole body, but otherwise, no.

My issue is anemia, not anorexia where people are stick thin and think they are fat, but anemia in which the body does not have enough iron. Short version of the story is that apparently I am severely anemic - to the point that at my last dr. visit, they were thinking of a transfusion. So now I'm on ferrous sulfate, a fancy schmancy word for iron. I used to dream of being lucky enough to look for and eat iron rich foods, i.e. liver, spinach, some grains, etc. Well, I have finally found something that I love that has 16% of the recommended daily dose. It's in the form of chocolate and not just any chocolate, but Turtles! Yes, T-U-R-T-L-E-S WOOHOO!

Okay, now you can tune back to your regularly scheduled blogs.

And Away We Go!

So October has come and gone in a whirlwind of costumes, parties, haunted houses and lots of fun. Let me just say that October is easily my favorite month with December a close second.

I have officially started my Christmas shopping. I know, I have become that person. The one who starts with Christmas the day after Halloween, barely even pausing to acknowledge Thanksgiving. But really, can you blame me? I hate being the shopper that is out braving the crowds at 6 p.m. on Christmas Eve. I have been that shopper. In fact that was me last year.
And off I go onto my next tangent. Ready...Set......GO!

Last year, December 23, I start coming down with chills, fever, headache, and body aches. I figure it's just a cold. But that night I stupidly decide I'm okay to do some shopping with my baby sis for some unexpected guests. I was out of my mind quite literally. By the time we got back, I was delirious, or so they tell me. It was pretty much a haze after I passed the Barbie isle.
And if that's not bad enough, Hubby decides the next day that Santa has not been kind enough to our boy. I tell him, go without me, you'll be fine. He was convinced he would choose the wrong things. So up I get, feverish, barely coherent, but on a mission. That lady you saw at the store, the one who was weaving back and forth with the cart, who looked like crazy Aunt Ethel? Yup - that was me. (While hubby trailed slightly behind to catch me should I fall) My apologies to those of you who may have been permanently scarred by me.

And the wrapping party, there was a real pick-me upper. I swear all three of my hubby were helpful in cutting straight wrapping paper. At least that's what he tells me.

P.S. turns out I had the flu and spent the entire holiday season sick as a dog. SO. NOT. FUN.