At about 1:00, the benevolent C bursts into my office and says "Have you talked to Joe Blo yet?!?!?!" (Name changed to protect the innocent.) I said no and asked what's up. C says that she can't tell me, impatiently looks around for Joe, looks back at me and says "I better go get him!" and runs away at full speed.A few minutes later she reappears and proclaims "I can't find him, but he has to talk to you." "About what?""I can't say, but it's really cool?""Well, C, the only thing worth this excitement would be that he has a parasitic twin on his back with gnashing teeth."C gets really a really excited look on her face and says "Not quite, but almost!"This launches me out of my chair and we embark on a quest for Joe Blo, who we find in his office. So here's what C was so excited about:9 months ago, Joe went to Egypt with a friend and came back with some gastrointestinal distress. He and I had talked about it about a month ago and all the things he's tried to alleviate the weird symptoms. Anyway, he finally lands in the hospital last week and the doctors eventually do a CT scan on his abdomen and find..... get ready... you're going to love this....
He told us that the doctor could see some that measured about 15 inches. Oh my god. Better yet, he explained that when they lay eggs, the larvae enter the bloodstream, go to the lungs and get coughed up and swallowed back into the gut to live out their lives. Eeewww! Best of all, he said he could feel them moving around in his gut. Motherlode!!! We were enthralled to say the least! However, apparently these little bastards can be quite dangerous, causing intestinal blockages, etc. Worse yet, since they are in his gut, his blood, his lungs, etc., he has to be treated with a drug that is basically chemotherapy with all the nasty-lose-your-hair-with-nausea-to-boot side effects. C and I walked away, quite satisfied with our cheap thrill, vowed not to treat him as a circus sideshow and quietly returned to work.
Yesterday was a long day of driving, visiting, then driving some more. My two hospitalized friends are coming along nicely. My old high school pal may be going home on Tuesday after a 3 week stay. My neighbor, who had an aneurysm burst during surgery to correct 2 of her 5 aneurysms, is coming along really nicely considering the hell her brain has been through. After the hospital, I drove through Mabel, MN to drop off some of my aunt's favorite hand soap (C.O. Bigelow's Lemon Hand Soap) and some old quilting magazines. Then it was on to Decorah. My dad, who complains about never leaving the house but is out of the house far more than I ever get out, was, you guessed it, out on an errand with my brother. So, I ran down to see another dear old friend, who happens to be the sister of one of my blogging pals. We had coffee and visited for about an hour. As I was leaving, my friend is standing on her porch talking to me and starts letting rip some championship farts that actually echo off the house across the street. She was completely unphased, but I am still stunned by just the fact that we're comfortable enough with each other to do that. When did that happen? I guess when you know someone for for 37 years, its just a given. In my house, we have a farting double standard- when I toot, it is disgusting, when he toots, it is funny. *sigh*So, anyway, I end up going out to my brother's to pick up up my dad, take him back home, visit for a while, clean some floors, visit some more and head out after a few hours. As I was getting ready to leave, my dad, who thinks I am dating said farting friend (I've never come out to him- very long story- but everyone else in the family knows), asks me if I am going to take my girlfriend out for dinner. I tell him again that she is just a friend and that it would be like dating my sister and she farts too much. He just sort of cocked his head at me, which was my sign to exit.
