*Make My Day
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Doctor Doctor give me the news
The dermatologist confirmed what I already suspected, even though Mike (the high school drop out who thinks he's a doctor), said I was nuts. Warren has inherited the Scandinavian skin, the same skin that has given his Uncle Milo (my little brother, who is 6ft 2in and just turned 30), his Grandfather (my dad), and Greatgrandmother (my Dad's mom), problems. He can't use fabric softener, harsh soaps, perfumy lotions, many detergents etc.. We got a perscription for Zyrtec, some antibacterial creme because of the places where he scratched it raw, and a steriod creme to help the exzcema. Lovely, just lovely. So either I wear stiff unscented clothes, or I have to wash all his things separately. On the bright side, he is also supposed to skip the baths and take short showers instead. (Score one, maybe now the bathroom floor can stay dry for more than a day.
We have some free samples of lotion and soaps from the doctors, which will last for a bit, because thanks to profit motivated medical establishments, and coroporate pharmectueticals, run by over paid excecutives I had to give almost all my money to the pharmisist. I miss the days when I lived close enough to the border that we could go up to Estevan or Regina and get what is a perscription her in the US, over the counter for half the price. (Its eqaual in quality and comes from the same freaking manufacturer, explain THAT one!!). I don't know how people without insurance do it. I don't know how we did it when I didnt' have insurance, and my income was high enough that MA (Medical Assistance) wouldn't pay didly. Okay enough ranting about corporate America.
I knew it was probably that all along, the kid has the most sensitive skin I know. He can get sunburned at the drop of a hat. I knew I was in trouble the first time I saw he had red hair. (What is it with red heads and uber-sensitive skin anyway?).
After Warren's appt we decided to walk back to the bus depot. The weather was nice, and it turned out to be a good thing. Since today was Thursday, that meant it was grill day at Metro Drug, a local pharmacy/deli on Broadway. Because of the all the construction in downtown, they had set up in the bank lot across the street. This was perfect for us, as we got to sit and eat out alfresco style and Warren got the thrill of watching the big machines scoop up the concrete pieces and rebars that used to be Broadway (one of the oldest streets in Fargo, that is being totally redone in attempt to bring people back downtown, never mind that fact more people might be willing to come downtown, if they actually had some place to park, that didn't charge two arms and a couple legs). We must have sat there for an hour while Warren was totally enthralled.
Any more excitement and I might actually fall alseep. Why do day's off always go so much faster than work days? I think its a plot.
Prequels ~ Sequels
Music of the mind: :
~*~Have you read these~*~
~ Ode to a child who is no more ~
~ She's baaack ~
~ testing ~
~ Facebook me ~
~ Bleech ~
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In every neighborhood there is at least one house that all the neighbors gossip about. This is a diary from the woman who lives in that house. I am a single mother in her mid thirties. I live in North Dakota with my son, Warren.
I tend to be a bit of a slob, and am the opposite of a girly-girl. I am geek girl, who loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Buffy, Angel, action movies, science fiction, action adventure, Dr. Who, and so on and so on.
I love to write and while I don't post much fiction online anymore I would love to be a writer someday. I am also overweight, bipolar and suffer from allergy induced asthma.