Well. It seems that I have
pityriasis rosea. Yeah, I pity me. I pity a fooh - that is me. Little red dots all over, I look diseased, it's even on my gorgeous breasties. Nothing I can do about it - reaction from virus (most likely but they're not entirely sure) and no, you can't catch it. I'm calling it 'me scurvy'. I feel SO unattractive right now - my gut is porky, I'm covered in dots and I have dark circles under my eyes from the freakin' lack of sleep lately.
Doctor thinks that I should consider going on the pill for my period and endo problems. I agree and I'm looking into what pills might agree with me. I might try the ones Tina is on cause they don't seem to be causing her any problems and they're cheap too.
Then, on the way home we drove past an injured magpie on the road. As soon as Dad stopped the car at our house, I ran out and went to the bird. It was either a baby or a female. I hugged her and brought her back to my place, put her in a box. She was panting, flapping her wings. I hugged her to my chest when bringing her home, I could feel her shocked breaths. God. I felt her warmth and I knew she was badly hurt. I love birds dearly, particularly magpies - they have such a gorgeous call and they're so very clever. I'm pretty sure this was one of the maggies that visits and eats our cat food, so I was kind of attached to it. We dropped it off at the vet and I let them know that if they had to put her down, I wanted to know. And sadly, just five minutes ago, the vet called and said that she was too injured to be saved. Which has made me sad, but what can one do? Wild animals get hurt, I guess. I hate cars. :(
And, thanks to the pityriasis rosea, I bet you dollars to doughnuts that no man or woman will want to get jiggy with me for months. I am stuck looking like I am diseased for weeks. Things suck.
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