The Broken Barrier

Update on the bone breaker: My husband did not break his ankle. I guess that nurse practitioner knew what he was talking about. So my hubby is now up and walking around. Woohoo! I’m glad he doesn’t have to wear yet another cast, and thrilled that I won’t be the one doing all the plowing this winter on Bobo (our son named the tractor). The word is still out on the wrist, though. We shall know for sure on Friday…hopefully. You never know with these things. You think you can just go and get the problem fixed but they reroute you and have you go to three different places before somebody can do something for you. It’s crazy, I tell you. I just got a recorded phone call a moment ago telling me we have to fetch the x-rays, too, before the appointment. Being inherently lazy, I’d just as soon not make another trip. But I shall do it because I am running for sainthood.

Which leads me to my next item of news.

I went to give blood today. This is my third time. The sad thing is that this outing was a social event for me (typically I only get out to go to the library or grocery shopping). I even dressed up for the occasion. Put on my new shoes. Combed my hair. I was stepping out, my friends. It might have been fun. Unfortunately, I tend to get dizzy after giving blood. Most people don’t seem to be affected by the process. They pump out their pint, roll down their sleeve, and leave the building without looking back. I, on the other hand, nearly pass out.

The nurse told me I shouldn’t do it anymore. Then she told me to come back when I’d gained some weight. A couple years ago, after having my first child, the doctor told me I could stand to lose a few pounds. I had gained 40 pounds during the pregnancy, you see. I was eating for two…elephants, that is. So I can’t seem to win. I’ll tell you a secret, though. I’d rather have to gain weight than lose it. It’s more fun and much easier. So here I am, trying to cut out the junk food (being a stay at home means I’m able to get up and get something to eat at any time) and exercising to stay in shape, and I’m told to put on a few. I guess I’ll just be flattered.

On Tuesday night my husband came upstairs to fetch me. "Come and look!" he shouted, urging me to follow him. "You’re under 60,000!"

What am I talking about? Well, if you order books through Amazon.com, you can look in the book information and see where the book ranks in sales on Amazon. The number changes daily. I can’t help myself…I have to look at it every once in a while to see where I’m at. There are books that are over 1 million, down to Harry Potter, which is probably #1. I have been ranging from the 200,000s to the 8 or 900,000s, depending on the day. These last couple days I actually dipped under 200,000. And then, on Tuesday night at 10:49, I went down to about 55,000. I shall remember this moment for a long time because I’m sure the number’s back up again. And really, I should not watch it. But I can’t help myself (I think I’ve said that already). It’s like finding out your kids’ weight and height percentiles. When they first start out in life, it’s all you’ve got to talk about. Otherwise, they’re just a potato with arms and legs.

I know it’s not about the numbers. Well, I try to know that. But it sure felt good to finally surpass The Mating Habits of the African Shrew - A Love Story.

Even if it was just for "one brief shining moment…"