Spaghetti Squash

My best girlfriend from high school invited me to a spur of the moment dinner at her house this week. Called and said "plan to stay for dinner - I'll make something you can eat". Gotta love this gal - she's a firm believer that there is nothing that can't be cured by exercise and a good attitude, but she goes out of her way to make sure I always have something that is safe to eat when I go to her house. And more than just a simple salad. Main dishes, sides, the whole nine yards. (I usually take dessert - usually my turtle brownies) This week's dinner revolved around some spaghetti squash she had cooked and frozen last fall. Yum! A little butter, a little maple syrup, and we were good to go with a great side dish that went really well with the ham she heated for dinner. She added in some chopped potatoes sauteed with butter, green and red peppers and onions, and I thought I was in heaven. It sounds so simple, doesn't it? In fact, she sent me home with some of the squash and I'm having it for dinner again today. In other news... I'm going to have a completely gluten free kitchen in a very few days. Getting rid of everything left over by my daughter and her friend who lived here from January to June. The unopened things will be sent to my daughter (she's a junior in college, and always broke) and anything else? Out. Just out. I'm tired of becoming ill because someone else in the house made themselves a meal and didn't clean the pot or utensils completely before putting them away. I know it is hard to get rid of all the gluten, but seriously? Can't you use one of the old pans to make your mac and cheese? Why do you have to use the new pans I got when I received the diagnosis? The whole idea was to never have any gluten ingredients in them, so I would always know they were safe. Which reminds me - If I ever, ever say I'm taking someone other than my daughter in again? Slap some sense into me.

Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

So, on Sunday I found out that my liver is enlarged. Not terribly much, but enough. And I had five more tubes of blood drawn.

This morning, I had my cat scan. Appointment at 9:30, test takes ten minutes, tops. Made it out of there at a quarter after 11. Ugh.

Then off to the doctor to start over with the p. anemia treatments. One shot per day for three days, then one per week for two weeks, then one per month. So damned stupid. I told them I needed the shots. But I guess I'm just a dumbass who doesn't have a clue about my own medical history. Asshats.

So, I'm bruised, tired, thirsty, craving pasta, and my cholesterol is evidently through the roof. At least Maria gets done with college in three years, and then I can just tell them all to go to hell and enjoy what little is left of my life. (And yes, I'm aware that I could have a much longer one if I did all I was told. But I'm done now. I really just am.)