This problem may require a visit to the doctor, so of course I am resisting. I dislike being turned into a pincushion. I resent having to give a well-meaning lab tech any amount of my blood, since I seem to have so little of it. I don't like drugs of any kind, and while I have not been able to totally avoid them, my prescription medication intake is minimized to a manageable level - 2 little pills in the morning. I fear painkillers, and I am fortunate that neither my doctors nor my dentist are pill pushers. My drug of choice for pain is ibuprofen, except for those rare post-surgical hours when my only choices are taking the damn Darvocet or screaming my head off. As soon as possible, however, I switch to Advil.
I am not good about taking supplements, and I think that is the source of my current discomfort. Since my little event up in Panama City Beach this past Labor Day, I have tried to be more diligent about taking my iron, B12, and calcium pills. Unfortunately, one cannot take the wish for the deed when it comes to supplementing one's diet, and as I commit these thoughts to virtual paper, I realize what I have to do.
Taking a page from my diligent, organized, utterly devoted husband's book ... I have created my very own "pill box." Yes, it is smaller, sleeker, and prettier than the one my husband faithfully drags out of the pantry every morning and evening. And hopefully, I shall use it "in good health." Now I just have to find room for it in the pantry. Ha ha.
So I have not been up to cooking today, but I have several recipes (a very few with photos) taken during my recent hiatus, and will post them as time permits. For now, I am going to creep back upstairs, crawl into bed and complain about how these darn vitamins are already upsetting my digestive system.
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