I can drive!

On the day I was discharged, I half-remembered a resident telling me I could drive only as long as I was taking an anti-convulsant. Matt heard that I wouldn’t be able to drive at all unless I had an EEG and follow-up appointment with Dr. Lopez.

Either way, I didn’t feel well enough to drive so waiting for the follow-up appointment with Dr. Lopez was fine with me . . . until about 6am this morning. That’s when I realized I have a deviated septum. I’m sure of it. Maybe it was the surgery, more likely it was a Dr. Seuss board book that did the trick. In either case, for a month my nose has been tender to the touch, crackles when I crinkle my nose, and when I lie to one side I can’t breathe. Doesn’t that sound like a deviated septum to you?

I was supposed to visit my allergist two weeks ago, a fact I am painfully aware of as I watch the local oak trees begin to dust the car and my nose in yellow pollen. My deviant, deviated septum promises to add to my seasonal allergic agony.

So I figured I needed to go to the doctor. That alone isn’t a problem–the medical center is just a couple of miles away–but how to get there? I could have Matt take me, but he will had to take off work and he’s feeling behind. I could have a neighbor take me, but going to the doctor could be an all-day ordeal. Do I really want to expose someone I like to that kind of trauma? I could take the bus, but after riding Houston Metro buses in a previous life, I really only want to ride the bus if I really, really, really have to.

So I decided to ask Dr. Lopez, just in case. And he said I really, really, really don’t have to take the bus.

Dr. Lopez, I promise, I won’t get on the freeway. I won’t even go very far. I really just need to go to the doctor. And I have babies to tend at home, so I’ll come right back.

Woo-hoo!