Well despite being exhausted and somewhat high from the medication and jazz ciggie, I did not sleep well at all last night. The medication Naproxen, made me quite out of it and the jazz ciggie made my eyes heavily lidded, but I couldn’t sleep, knees bothering me, could not find a comfortable position to fall asleep in and once again Bill was snoring.

I would tell him as he slept that he was snoring, and then he would stop, only to start up with a different sound of snoring. Sort of like singing a different song. Finally I fell asleep but it seemed like only minutes later, Bill was kissing me good bye for the day.

He was worried about me, mostly because he saw that where it used to take me 30 seconds to get from the TV room to the kitchen, last night it took a few stumbling minutes. I wasn’t playing it up either. I eventually woke up and decided not to use the Shelaleigh like I used yesterday. I had no problem using it yesterday but once my sister mentioned how brittle it probably was, it made me nervous to use it again.

I was able to be mobile and took my time getting around the apartment. A shower and some breakfast with a Naproxen chaser. Made me out of it again. I took my time descending the stair case, hearing Alexander yelling (or merely talking) on the third floor, gave me hope. I made it out to the street and enjoyed a small victory cigar as I slowly walked up to Washington Street.

I tried to schedule an ultra sound yesterday but in Hoboken, the first time they could see me was next Wednesday. Bill mentioned last night to see if there was anywhere in Manhattan, close to the cigar shack where I could get it done. I looked at the insurance company’s website but in the Naproxen mindset I was in, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

This morning while on the bus I ran into neighbor Deborah from the fourth floor. I told her my tale of woe. Seems like all I have are tales of woe lately. Then again, I think a lot of people have woeful tales to be told these days.

She told me her tale, falling on some black ice a week ago and having to get an ultra sound for her hand, and also found a place close to work. Deborah and I parted ways in the bus terminal and I called Bill who had the same idea.

Since he was sitting at a computer he had better access and thankfully was able to find a place close to the cigar shack, make an appointment for me, and called my quack doctor’s office and get a faxed referral from him to the ultra sound place. I made it to work, and told Calvin and Thomas what was going on with my knee.

Thomas chimed in with his tale of woe. He has an ingrown toe nail. Yeah, really put my messed up knee to shame. He’s only 24 years old so youthful callousness can be forgiven.

It was another long day, 9 hours standing on my feet. I was able to get through the day and at 2:45 headed over to the Roosevelt Hospital area for the ultra sound. The reception desk was somewhat helpful, the actual ultra sound person, a very pregnant woman was a bitch.

It was over after about an hour and I limped back to work after nabbing a slice of pizza since I needed to eat something quickly. Later in the afternoon I was talking to a customer, and mentioned that my quack doctor suggested an ultra sound since it might be a cyst.

I didn’t think much of it being a cyst until the customer mentioned his hopes that if it is a cyst, that it’s benign. Benign? That means the opposite is malignant. That means what I didn’t want to think about. And that took up residence in the back of my mind for the rest of the day.

And that’s all I’m going to write tonight, I’m surprised I wrote this much.