So fuck, you know, how awesome was the seventh Harry Potter? So awesome, and I won't write anything about it because some random person reading this blog may have not read it already and I know how that feels, avoiding spoilers, you know? It sucks, because everywhere you turn you're afraid the book will be spoiled forever like the sixth book was spoiled for me. And then you have to watch out for those fake spoilers like the ones given to me by people who claim to "love" me, such as: "Harry Potter dies!" "Harry Potter doesn't die!" Harry Potter and Voldemort are the SAME PERSON!" "Hermione and Voldemort are the SAME PERSON!" "Harry is actually a bunny rabbit! So soft and cuddly!" Etc, etc. None of which are true (or... ARE they?) But yeah, anyway, I finished all the Harry Potter books and now I feel a little bereft, and I felt I should commemorate the occasion by putting it in writing since last time I wrote, I hadn't even started the sixth book. Woe!
The nodes are still swollen and I'm being inundated with doctors' appointments. I went to the endocrinologist and the ENT last week and they both decided that the only cure for what ails this poor girl? MORE APPOINTMENTS! AND MAKE SURE THEY ARE AS DRAWN OUT AS POSSIBLE! So now I have a cat scan for the nodes on Thursday and another ENT appointment next week, I think, and then a free week and then the week after I think I have an ultrasound on my thyroid and a follow-up with the endo. I feel like you should be able to check both things with one test, you know? Either an ultrasound OR a cat scan. Not both. But no! It must be both, and hey, did you know, more bloodwork too! I love needles. It's too bad heroin never agreed with me.