Wednesday, November 7, 2012

2 Little Monkeys

One of the perks..ok the ONLY perk of not being fully divorced is that I am still able to go on base at Ft. Meade and see the doctors there under my soon to expire Tricare coverage. There isn't a spouse anywhere in the military that has never complained about Tricare at least ONCE and yet,...

Is it sad to say Ill regret losing my Tricare more than the Ex?

....I need to buy a little bicycle bell because Im going to Hell in a handbasket...

Like any good military nurse, my LPN ran me through the gamut. Height, weight (ug, blindfold-led), blood pressure, temp, agonizingly personal questions.

"Any anxiety? Depression?" Ha, what military spouse doesn't experience that?
"Are you getting treated for it?"

Fact of the matter is I havent seen a psych for a great long time. I've always been more of an after-action review gal. I put my head down, push through, and once Im on the other side of the battle field I come in for damage assessment. Being a Psych student you'd think Id practice what I will one day preach: Ask for help.

"No. Im not."
Eyebrow raise.
"Im putting in a consult."
Well, ill stick it in the recycling bin.

For all of my pains and troubles the doctor pretty much tells me Im stupid, this whole appointment is stupid and for my efforts I get a FluMist cuz, you know, that has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with what I came in for. Makes perfect sense in the Military Clinic world. Trust me on this one.

Great day to have a runny nose too. There I am sniffling, trying to look for tissues, but grateful that Im not being poked with a needle.
Until the nurse stops by in passing and takes my "FluMist Informational Pamphlet" and replaces it with "FluShot Informational Pamphlet"

"Sorry doll, Doctor didn't realize you're Anemic. We have to give you the shot."
Classic. Me.

On the drive home I mulled over the chat the Nurse had with me about reaching out for help with depression. I dont like to take pills. I dont enjoy sitting in a chair and 'talking about my feelings', thats what this blog is for.

"See there?! I tol' you I got MUSCLES!" Aeva has kicked the dash and is now using the resistance to flex what I can faintly see as her calf muscles, pant leg pulled up as high as she can reach from her 5-point restraint system. Which isn't much. I rein that sucker in TIGHT.

"Im gonna be a SUPER hero!"
"Oh yea? Whats your super hero name?"
"Aeva Zazzle D!"

Iris and I both laugh at her choice which humors Super Aeva Zazzle D not.

"Is. Not. Funny."
"Ok, ok, ok, what will Aeva Zazzle D do?"
"Im gonna keel aww da snakes!! Im gonna run real fast and Ima help you with my super powers!"

Im starting to worry about my daughter's fascination with killing things at this point. Earlier this week she slipped me a absurdly large post card of a disgusting Cicada (thanks Bass Pro Shop...instructive assholes) saying: "Dis bit me lass mornin'" Not two seconds later a stink bug zooms between us landing squarely on the TV screen.

Jogging in place, arms flailing, Aeva's face resembles the 'Scream' mask...not a sound coming out of her mouth till she spots her boot, grabs it and yells:


Thank god for my cat-like reflexes.

As we are reaching the home stretch on this cold, wet, windy, and pokey day Iris has started up our rousing chorus of "Down By The Bay". We butcher it like pros. Scaring fellow drivers when they see all three of us bellowing children songs and bouncing in our seats. Im by no means a good singer but Im really fucking this chorus up, my voice cracking and horribly out of tune because thats just how we like it best when Aeva, ever the umpire, gets upset.

"Im MAD at you!"
"Because what?"
"Dont SAY dat word!!"
"Why are you mad?"
"Im gonna sing now. Ima sing wit Iris"

Iris is great at ignoring us. She's well on past the Bay and on to "5 little Monkeys".  Aeva adds her quiet little voice, slowly swaying in her restraints.

"You sing too now momma"

Momma doesn't need to call the Doctor. She's got her Monkeys right here with her and they make her all better.

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