Didn't sleep well at all last night. I dreamed that Huma and I were on a vacation somewhere in the Bahamas. It was just us girls, lying on the sand, under a hot, tropical sun. That kind of thing always gets me a little itchy. I was smoothing oil on to Huma's back just the way she likes me to do it when the little man from the hotel in the white jacket, Eduardo was his name I believe, walked up to us to tell us that our lunch was ready on the patio. Next thing I know, I'm at the all-you-can-eat buffet, but when I get to the table, I look down at my plate and instead of broccoli quiche, it's one of Chel's half-Jew babies!
This was very disturbing. First, I would never eat a whole child. I was taught that a lady always takes a small portion, finishes what she takes, and if she's still hungry, accepts a second serving only when it's offered by the host. Second, I never eat broccoli because it really bloats me up, and a major gas attack is the last thing I'd want on a vacation in the Bahamas -- especially with Huma.
Dr. Morell says that it's quite likely that the dream was a reaction of introducing Aricept into my med mix and that he can adjust for that over time. I love Dr. Morell. He's such a dear. No matter what time of day or night I call, he's always there for me. Well, usually. Some of the time it's his nurse that answers the phone, but I can hear him in the background giving her specific directions. It's always in that code doctors have with their nurses. He might say something like, "Yes, right there. Now do it harder. Lower. Lower, Yes, now deeper, all the way in." I think that's code for "more liquids, double the Mirtazapine, I'll be over to visit tomorrow" and stuff like that.
I'm so grateful that I have decent medical care. I hope that Carrot Head doesn't wreck Obamacare with some wacky plan that doesn't provide the quality of coverage that I get. I know that for
To be completely candid, I'm not convinced that
Dr. Morell shows up every day, brings the prescriptions, gives me my shots and calls Vladimir right after every visit. That's the kind of attention I want from a doctor. I'm still not sure why Dr. Morell insists on videotaping me when I look like such a mess, but if you don't trust your doctor, who can you trust? Am I right?