For someone whose normal temperature ranged between 96.5 – 97.0 (I am one cold blooded witch), to now be running a nearly hundred degree temperature for the last week certainly can’t mean shiny happy things.

One week ago something extraordinary happened: I lost complete interest in food; everything made me nauseous.  Honest to God Cheetos remained in the pantry forlorn and forgotten.

I must admit I’m a lil more than disgusted at the folks whose hand I held through the frightening beginnings of their surgery only to be followed by, “Brooke who?”

I could pursue the reasoning behind my recent peculiar symptoms or just ignore the hell outta ‘em and play the guessing game.  Guessing game is more fun, plus doesn’t include anymore annoying tests or yards of tubing down my esophagus – me and my wide awake esophagus.