Rambling Writing is Good for the Soul

“Ramblin’, Ramblin’, Rambling,
Keep those doggies rambling,
I write!”

My introduction to the tune of Rawhide may give you an indication of my mood. I am all over the place today. Silly, sad, energetic and downright pooped.

Let me ramble a bit to take the edge off. For me, this is better than strong drink.

My friend Kay suggested I try Indian food. I have never been one to try new foods. Just not interested in that kind of cultural experience. I ate some Russian cuisine when I traveled there in the early 90’s. Besides that, I stay away from the grilled snake and the Thai curry and the Japanese sushi. But Kay’s powers of persuasion got me to thinking that I should go for it. So on Tuesday I went to an Indian restaurant and had a little of everything on their buffet. I liked it. I enjoy a good sizzle.

But then…my body communicated to me all day long that although I may enjoy Indian food, Indian food does not enjoy my body. Enough said, right?

Oh well.

Last Friday night I went to my buddy Michal’s house and watched a new Anita Renfro DVD she’d bought called, “It’s Probably my Thyroid.” Anita is a Christian comedienne who is absolutely fun-nay! Her take on life gets you giggling and I especially enjoyed her routine about the thyroid gland and its peculiarities, because I, like so many other woman, have a bum thyroid.

My troubles with the dear gland started in 1985 when I gained 40 pounds in 3 months. I had no idea what was happening to me. Since then, I have taken a pill every day. Gets old, but so do I.

Well, a few months ago, I started gaining weight and feeling real tired. Went to the doctor and sure enough, my thyroid needed more oomph through medication. The last four or five months I have gone to the lab once a month, seen the doctor once a month and made changes to my medication. I have gone from dangerously low to significantly low to just a bit abnormally low.

Yesterday I went in to see the doctor and guess what? I am too high. Yep, that’s right. And because of that, I have had a type of insomnia for about a month.

I am fit to be tied. That’s a cool expression by the way. I am angry as a hornet’s nest. Another good cliché.

Now I must lower the dosage, come back in another month and see how it’s all going.

Oh well.

Why is it that doctors and nurses now-a-days use computers and not a big ole file of your history? Maybe that’s just my doctor’s office but instead of asking you questions and writing down the answers, they put all the info into a little laptop. I hate it because they spend most of your appointment looking at the screen and not you. Makes me wonder if they aren’t finishing up a game of Spider Solitaire while I recite my aches and woes.

The big folder comforted me. When my doctor walked into the examination room with it, I felt he carried my history in his hands and therefore a little connection to all that is Robbie.

Now I just watch him play Doctor Pac Man. I shoot him my info and he uses it like ammunition to kill whatever monster is on the screen.

Oh well.


And one more thing while I am rambling down rose lane into your hearts. Not long after I started this blog, I signed up for a thing that counts the number of people who visit my blog. It also tells when they visited and where they are from. Well, shortly after I installed this site meter counter, I noticed that one person was visiting me quite often. In fact, the person from Clarksville, Tennessee visited almost every day and sometimes many times a day.

At first, I was flattered. Then I started wondering just who this might be. Finally, I decided that Clarksville was my blog stalker. Concern came. I began going into my past and assigning names to Clarksville based on the people I have offended. I settled on one. My thoughts about this person grew from curiosity to resentment. Why didn’t she just leave me alone? Should I address her? No, she will lose interest. But after a couple of more months, Clarksville’s visitation was as consistent as always.

Finally, I spoke my concerns to my friend Loretta. What should I do? She had no suggestions, but something occurred to her.

“You know, Robbie, I, too, have someone from Clarksville, Tennessee that frequents my blog.”

“She must have gotten the link to your blog from mine.”

“Let’s try something, Robbie. Go to my blog right now.”

I did.

“Robbie, when you visited my blog, I got a visitor from Clarksville, Tennessee."

"Wow. What a coincidence that she visited you at the exact same time as I did."

Loretta gave me a look. "Robbie. One plus one equals?"

It hit me.

"The device I'm using to hook up to the internet must be from Clarksville."

Mystery solved! I felt foolish. Even a little sad. It was exciting for a while to have a fan so dedicated. But alas, no. No stalker. Just me. :0)

Oh well.

On the positive side of life, and there is always one if you think about it, I am enjoying writing, my family is all healthy and happy, my sister comes to see me in 3 weeks :0) and I am blessed to serve a God who puts up with my rambling writing and who loves me completely!