I Am a Vampire, but There Are Drugs for That

Recently I went to the doctor for my yearly physical and blood work. That is, if you call recently three months ago. Anyhow, I never called to get the results of my blood work. For most this would not be a problem. As B says, "if there is a problem, they will call YOU." In theory, this is probably correct. With my doctor's office, nothing could be farther from the truth.

You see, back in October of 2006, my doctor sent me for a sleep study as he thought I may have sleep apnea. When I didn't hear back from his office, I called them. The nurse proceeded to tell me that I had been diagnosed with sleep apnea and that the doctor wanted to send me for a second test. Apparently I was just supposed to know this without the office telling me, like I am psychic or something. The joke was on them though. Turns out after a year of battling with a sleep machine, I didn't have sleep apnea after all. I am narcoleptic. In case you don't know, that is pretty much the exact OPPOSITE of sleep apnea.

Yes, I still see the same doctor. At least, the same office.

So I call the other day and tell the nurse it is probably stupid that I am calling because they would have called me if it was important (knowing all the while that probably isn't true). She finds my records and says mostly my blood work was fine, however:

Nurse: Your Vitamin D levels are low.

Me: I was wondering about that and meant to have you check them.

Nurse. Well, it is LOW.

Me: Okay.

Nurse, VERY VERY LOW.

Me: um...okay?

Nurse: You need to take a supplement.

Me: Sure.

Nurse: 3,000 units a day

Me: WOW.

Of course when I tell B this he says it is because I never go outside. I do go outside. To get into my car. To get into the office. To get into the house. That is outside, right? Also? I have very nice cancer-free skin. That's a plus. I told B that he would appreciate that in 20 years. He merely responded:

"You will be OLD"

Thanks. Apparently, my Dad and brother had the same reaction, chuckling about my not going outside. I also informed my brother that I had beautiful skin. "Yeah, pale, alabaster, translucent skin", he said.

Jealous, much?

It is not that I don't want to go outside. But what am I supposed to do out there? You have all seen my front porch. Can't sit there. My porch swing is on a covered porch. Sometimes I walk to the store and to Starbucks. One time I hung out at the park until people looked at me weird because there were kids there and I didn't have any kids even though I was swinging on the kids' swing. I go on walking tours. Picnics and barbecues are nice. But on an everyday basis, what am I supposed to be doing out there? Anyone?

I can't help it that fresh air and sunshine makes me want to open all of the blinds, drapes, and windows.

And nap.

Isn't that what a narcoleptic vampire is supposed to do?

If You Don't Cooperate, I am Sending the Lion After You

We are in the waiting room for blood draws only.

You are in your dress pants, dress shoes and undershirt, having already removed you dress shirt, suit jacket and top coat in anticipation of having your blood drawn.*

So when the nurse comes to the door and calls you name, you look more than a little bit foolish when you look up and answer "What?" as if you have no clue why she is there.**

On another note, is a sexy lion costume really appropriate for a doctor's office or any office for that matter?

Halloween brings out all of the freaks.***

*I typically do not completely undress to get blood drawn from my ARM, but that's just me.****

**The appropriate response is to smile and/or say "yes", as you get up and move toward the nurse. It is not proper to just sit there with your newspaper saying "what" repeatedly. Take note half dressed man!

***Or is that a full moon? I can't keep this straight.

****I also do not get undressed in common waiting areas. Again, that's just me.

Any True Blood Lovers Out There?

I am getting ready to watch the latest episode of True Blood tonight and it got me wondering, are there any True Blood fans out there in my blogland?

Better yet, have any of you read the Sookie Stackhouse series that the show is based on?

Anyone?

If you can answer yes to any of the above, come share my latest obsession with me!

Oh, and more Eric please.

Vampire Butter Breakfast

Over the years, B and I have established a Thanksgiving routine that goes a little something like this:

1. I go to breakfast with my family.

2. He goes to the football game with his friend

3. We meet up later and head to his family's dinner

4. We eat a lot and sleep well

The breakfast with my family thing is rather new but it is a way for me to eat a meal with them that day.  And, of course, you know I like me some breakfast.  In fact, we go to the same place that the EMMICD people go. Alas, none were there on Thanksgiving.  I guess on a holiday they can eat "real" food, or at least give dairy the day off.

There were five of us at breakfast (my brother brought his girlfriend and God love them, they had to eat 3 meals that day - breakfast, lunch and dinner. Holiday meals, my friend, not just ordinary meals. And I thought WE ate a lot).  We sat around eating and just chatting about this, that and the other.  Almost all of us ordered omelets except my Dad who is a rebel and ordered a waffle. Why am I telling you our breakfast orders? There is a point. Trust.

With our breakfast came toast. I love toast.  This time I noticed it was quite buttered. In fact, I could actually see the butter piled up on the toast.  This is unusual because normally it is barely buttered.  I  chalked it up to good holiday spirit on behalf of the cook. First mistake.  After my first few bites, I noticed it had a garlic taste to it.  I decided I was crazy and ignored it while also subconsciously scraping the butter off my bread.  Second mistake.  This went on for my entire meal. Multiple mistakes.  I even ate two slices of my mom's toast. I love toast.

My bro, who declares that he loves toast because it is a "built in dessert -mmmm jelly on bread" bites into his toast and immediately says "this tastes strange."  I tell him it has a garlic taste to it. That is when it finally hits me - the cook totally buttered our toast with garlic butter.  The kind you put on that toast - garlic toast.  It tasted liked it and looked like it.  And it was.  My bro threw down his toast in disgust because apparently jelly and garlic butter on toast is no dessert.  Despite having eaten 6 pieces myself, I decide I have lost my appetite.  Or was I just full? Who knows.

We told our waitress who investigated and found out in the mad "rush" that morning, the cook had in fact buttered our toast with the wrong butter.  She apologized and offered us more toast. Even I could not take her up on that.   And because she was so sweet and so apologetic and it was a holiday, we left her a 30% tip.

We totally paid them to give us the wrong butter.

Happy Thanksgiving!*

*I know Thanksgiving was four days ago, but who has time to post when they are full after eating a lot, sleepy and trying to digest garlic butter?

I Am a Vampire

No, this is not a Twilight related post. In fact, I have yet to read the book despite my love of all things vampire. I know. I am a traitor. But soon I will rectify that situation.

As for this post? It is about my stellar cooking skills of course.  And yet another roast.  Last Family Dinner Day I decided to make a less "slimy" roast for B. Anything to make that boy happy.  I found a 3 envelope pot roast crockpot recipe and set about making it.  The envelopes were Italian dressing, ranch dressing and peppercorn garlic.  That was my first clue this dinner would be wrong.  I chose to ignore that sign.  I kept the ingredients a secret from B because I did not want him to know I was putting anything remotely related to ranch or "dressing" in his food. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right? Indeed I went to great lengths to hide this, so even when we were at his parents house that day and his mom asked me what I was using I managed to vaguely say "ingredients" of "different kinds."  Sure, I sounded like an idiot and sure, B looked at me like he was catching on, but it was a small price to pay to get a good meal in that boy's belly.

So, B and I did a lot of running that day, looking at more houses.  I wanted to be back by 4 to put the vegetables in, but we didn't make it back until 5.  I open the crockpot to dump the vegetables in when, for some unknown reason, I decide the pot roast must be "flipped over". Why I decided this, I have no clue. I had not done that the previous two times I cooked it. The recipe didn't call for it.  I just decided it was a good idea.  It was not.  The pot roast, after having been cooking for 4 hours was very tender.  It fell apart on my spear thingy* and plopped back down into all the gravy which then splashed up on  my face.

Quickly I realized I COULD HAVE BURNED MY FACE so I madly wiped off my face and checked a mirror.  All was good.  Vegetables in.  Cooking continued. As for me, I decided to shower.  While in the shower this little spot over my lip and the inside of my entire right nostril starts burning like crazy. I try rinsing and washing to no avail.  I am showering and thinking that my face is burning off or something and cursing the time (about five minutes ago) I decided it would be a good idea to flip that roast.  My face was not melting and was not burning off.  Apparently some of the peppercorn garlic spice just got in there really good in the Great Splash of five minutes ago and my skin was not liking it.  That was my second clue that this dinner was going to be wrong.  I chose to ignore that as well.  All was good. Cooking continued.  I passed B in the hall and said "I burned my face with the roast." He scanned me over, decided it did not entail another hospital trip and said "huh" nonchalantly.  He must be used to my mishaps.

Dinner was done and served and we had settled in to watch the last Dexter episode on our current DVD.  I put a piece of roast in my mouth and discovery MY MOUTH WAS ON FIRE.  Those spices were so strong I nearly died.  I started waving my hand in front of my mouth and saying AHHHH.  I actually think I then spit my half chewed meat on to my plate to which B said "gross."   We then had the following exchange:

Me gesturing wildly:  Is this HOT to you?

B: No

Me: Seriously? My mouth is ON FIRE!

Me: I cannot believe you do not find this hot.

B: The potatoes are kind of hot.

Me: Not the meat? Really?

B: I don't know.

Me: Oh, you would know.  MY MOUTH IS ON FIRE

I proceeded to finish the meal with about three glasses of tea and afterward cooled my tongue with some M&Ms.  In my head I declared that I would never be making that meal again.  All was well. We went on with our night.

In the middle of the night, I woke up and realized I could SMELL peppercorn garlic. It was everywhere, coming out of our pores as we slept. So disgusting! I had to turn off the bedroom ceiling fan because I believed it was just circulating that bad smell.  

Moral of the story - (a) peppercorn garlic is NOT good, (b) I may be a vampire, (c) B is immune to strong spices, and (d) I am still not a good cook.

No worries though. My bro gave me some ideas for spices and such for the next pot roast.**  He got to hear this story yesterday "live" as he called it.  

*That's a technical term for the two prong thingy that I pulled out of our knife block.

**Yes, I will not be deterred from making pot roast. It will turn out good and acceptable to both parties one day  and Hi bro!