Well, it hasn't been the most sterling New Year's Day.

As always, we drove out to Bill and Caran's New Year's Eve party last night. Rain is predicted for the next two days, and it was already drizzling, cars were darting in and out of traffic, and on the freeway we got in back of a car from Florida being driven by someone who had evidently already been celebrating, as he/she was weaving in and out of lanes (but still using a turn signal; go figure). We called 911, but since we didn't have the plate number, it wasn't really useful. Anyway, I hope he got where he was going safely.

We had a great time. It was a smaller crowd than usual, probably because of the weather, but it didn't matter. All the company was good, and both Chris Cook and Marilyn Teague were there—we hadn't seen Marilyn since her husband died, and Chris for several years. There were lots of nice goodies besides our chicken sausage: quinoa and rice, two big cheese balls, cold cut slices and various breads, little smokies, pigs in blankets, and a tray of cocktail shrimp. By the time the ball dropped in Times Square, I was crying with relief (although 2016 extracted one final piece of flesh, as we found out William Christopher had passed away).

I'm not sure I'm allergic to shrimp, but it does have detrimental effects on my digestion. If I'd had the brains God gave a goat, I would have had one and left it, but no, I had a few.

James was sort of quiet as we started out home. Right before he got onto the freeway, he admitted that he was having some type of a pulling feeling in both armpits. I wasn't doing so well myself. I'd left the house feeling fine, but by the time we were well on our way, I suddenly was feeling two different urgent calls of nature. Even worse, everything I'd eaten, which wasn't a lot, was starting to give me heartburn, and when my heartburn is at its worst, my heartbeat feels like it's irregular. It was raining in earnest now and the freeway was all spooky, shiny slick with rain and reflections from headlights and rear lights and buildings. Spring Road was terrible for this, as it's lined with orange construction barrels. Everything looked Dutch tilted. James told me testily that the pain was not in his chest or jaw or down his arms, just a pull under his armpits. We made it home and he said the moment we got in, the pain vanished. Perhaps it was just tension from having to drive home in such weather? I took my heart pill when we got home, too, and that straightened out part of my problem.

I ran to the bathroom, but was sick for the rest of the night. James got ready for bed with a tiny recurrence of the tugging (but not when he came up the stairs) and a headache. I was sick to my stomach by then and we didn't crawl into bed until 3 a.m. Not sure when I fell asleep, but I know when I woke up: it was seven o'clock and I had a terrible stomachache and my right ear was ringing like a churchbell. Sat freezing in the bathroom until I gave up after I had to get up a third time and put on socks and the fleece bathrobe we keep hanging up in there. I didn't get back to sleep, and finally about 8:30 just got into clothes to go lay down on the futon. Out of sheer frustration and fear I started to cry, waking James the rest of the way up. He told me the tugging had gone away the moment he got some sleep. (It came back briefly today, not when he climbed the stairs twice and took the dog out, but just walking from his computer to his chair; he fell asleep and it went away again. He'll have to tell all of this to Dr. Mobley on Thursday.)

I spent the day on the sofa, reading, and asleep for at least two hours. Watched a bunch of Aerial America episodes: California, Hawaii, Pennsylvania, and New England. Had some bread and milk only for lunch. Outside it gloomed and drizzled and finally poured.

For supper we had the homemade turkey soup with the square "pot pie" noodles. It was epic! Gingerbread men for dessert. Watched AFV and then this year's HGTV Dream Home. It is another remodel this year; have they taken flak for building new homes? This year's is a beach house on St. Simon's Island. The host is gushing over the views out the back door, which include this fetid looking creek. He's thinking view and I'm thinking mosquitoes! Beach people are weird. ツ Looks good in some rooms, though.

And now it's time for Sherlock...

Labels: friends, health, New Year, television, weather

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