I'm known to have my irrational moments during the day, but they ain't nothin' like what I get at night. During the day, I have indigestion; at night, I have a bleeding ulcer. When the sun's out, I have a headache; by the light of the moon, I have multiple brain tumors. So last night I went to bed feeling slightly out of sorts. My main symptoms were fatigue and thirst. So by midnight it was crystal clear that I had Type I Diabetes. I mean, what else could it be, right? Andy let me sleep in this morning and, needless to say, I woke up feeling fine.
One night back when I was still nursing Julie, I had what was obviously a plugged milk duct: a hard, sore lump on my breast. Weeping and wailing, I woke up Andy to tell him that I had breast cancer. Yes, I had sprouted a large malignant lump in the space of a couple of hours. He tried to gently reassure me that I didn't have breast cancer, but I was indignant. Of course I did! And I needed to begin making arrangements for my imminent death. So, reasonable man that he is, he said, "OK, you're right: You do have breast cancer. But you're not going to die tonight, OK?" I agreed, and by morning I was able to massage away the milk clog and everything was hunky-dory again.
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