Twenty-nine is full of little bodily betrayals.
A few weeks ago, I was diagnosed with Raynaud’s something or other. Do you guys know what that is? I had never heard of it before, but I guess it’s basically like my blood vessels hate winter and stress and me.
So, you know me, I’m freakin’ because my digits are numb and sore and corpse white and swollen, but whatever, like a million people have it and I guess that’s my new normal now too since winter and stress are a part of my genetic makeup.
Never mind that one of the super rare complications of the most severe case of this thing is gangrene. Gangrene! Gangreeeeeene aaarrrrggghhhh uuuugggghhh. Yes, I Googled that – a terrible lapse in judgement and resolutions.
Anyway, I joked with my husband that if I lose my toes at least I’d have ten less nails to polish, I guess, because morbid humor in terrifying situations is my thing.
(It’s not even a big deal, I’m just the scarediest cat. Which, you know, makes it worse.)
Howeverrr, I’m wearing XL footsie jams today to combat the cold and it’s kinda working. It’s also giving my kids something to laugh at so wins all around!