Friday was the 52nd Friday since dad passed.
It was also my onset day for my period.
Vicodin works wonders for horrendous back spasms and menstrual cramps.

I had a full-on anxiety attack (honestly, I thought I'd need to go to the ER; I thought I was having a heart attack), due to my obtuse brother and his wife over-staying their welcome at mom's.

My mother cooked breakfast the morning after dad's memorial mass.

Bacon and vicodin, two of my favorite things.

Still haven't gotten up the moxie to go to the URL to watch the online seminar for the surgeon. Can't schedule a consult until I do.

My mind is reeling at what a monkey wrench this is going to cause to my vacation plans in 2010.

We're so incredibly short staffed at work, I get anxiety attacks thinking about scheduling time off for the plethora of appointments before, during, and after surgery.

I've been depressed for a good two weeks. Deep depression.

My monster of an appetite (seriously, it normally is fire breathing and has fangs, that kinda monster), has been MIA.