I am rapidly approaching full panic mode. Sandy and I leave for London in 16 days. 16.
That’s barely enough time for the two panic attacks I’m anticipating.
And just to add to the fun and excitement, I am, of course, undergoing yet another ailment of some sort. (As soon as one thing gets fixed, another falls apart.)
I call it estropacolypse.
Without TMI, I have been on estrogen replacement for a few years and apparently my body has decided it no longer wants to absorb it. Therefore, I had a huge amount of estrogen floating in my blood stream just hanging out and doing nothing for me at all. Kind of like Anne Hathaway.
Unless you count the headaches, trouble sleeping, teeth grinding, hot flashes and emotional rollercoaster. And by a “huge amount” I mean more than a pregnant woman has in her first trimester. Woo hoo! Good times.
Now the level is back to almost nil and we have started a gel application instead of a pill. I have no idea what the blood count is, but I am not feeling particularly splendid. More blood work is in the works.
At this point, if I get to London and don’t have hot flashes or want to strangle people who get in my way any more than I’m usually tempted to do, we’ll call it a win. Otherwise, we may have an international incident on our hands.
Meanwhile, Sandy has been booking even more London entertainment. We are now attending the Harry Potter Tour at the Warner Bros. Studio, London. Not on my original plan, but once it was proposed I couldn’t say no. Now we’ve even convinced our London cohorts, Dave and Amy, to go with us. (You’ll remember Dave and Amy from “A Joy-ous Occasion“)
According to the website, these are some of the things we’ll do:
• Step inside and discover the actual Great Hall.
• Explore Dumbledore’s office and discover never-before-seen treasures.
NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN TREASURES. Right on.
• Step onto the famous cobbles of Diagon Alley, featuring the shop fronts of Ollivander’s wand shop, Flourish and Blotts, the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, Gringott’s Wizarding Bank and Eeylop’s Owl Emporium.
YES! I am coming home with an OWL, people!
Because that would be the greatest souvenir ever.
Except for maybe a falcon.
Or a dragon.
Hey, I may have trouble regulating my internal temperature gauge, but I’m still just an overgrown kid.
An overgrown kid with an OWL.