Off to Boston again this week to see Dr. Steinman and be tethered to the Beth Israel hospital for them to collect at 24 hour urine sample. It's an odd thing, really, to be at a hospital all day for no other reason than to have people collect your pee. And sometimes I'm the only person on the floor, which means everybody is there for me and my urine. Like I said--odd.
There are even nurses on staff who hang out all night, just in case I have to pee in the night. And in the interest of blogging and the tradition of TMI that goes with it, I have to say that I rarely, if ever, pee in the night, and knowing that there was a person on call for that very specific reason made me feel all guilty and awkward, like I should drink extra water so as to have to get up in the middle of the night to pee so the nurse's job wouldn't be a total wash. But then I thought, well, what if she sort of dozes in the middle of the night in a cot somewhere? Would she be bummed to have to get up for something that I really don't need to do anyway?
It's all very complicated, you see.
But a trip to Boston is always nice. From my window at the hospital, I can see my old college dorm at BU, and I get to think about what my life was like then, and what it's like now. And even though I'm looking at it through a hospital room, it's nice to know that at least in some areas, I've made progress.
But it's butt cold there now, and despite progress in some areas of my life, I'm quite certain I've lost all my New England toughness. I didn't think I would--eight years in Boston tends to toughen up a girl, as well as add to her wardrobe of hats. I'm woefully short on cute hats these days, and cute gloves are even scarcer. I hardly own a sweater, and I own one scarf that I wear when I visit family in Utah. Good thing it's versatile.
I hope to have good news in Boston, that is, to learn that nothing has changed since I was there in May. Because sometimes, progress isn't a good thing at all.