Travel and illness

We had a terrific Christmas vacation. We logged 2400 miles in a small hatchback filled to the top. (To be fair, we didn't bring that much luggage - it was mostly dog crate and cat litter box). After enduring several hours of barking, we discovered the dog would remain relatively silent if we completely covered her crate. If the sheets and coats slipped the tiniest bit so she could spy us, it was back to the heart-stopping barks. The cat complained too, of course, but we couldn't hear her over the dog, poor thing. It was pleasant to watch the countryside, and see the change from palm trees to snow-covered, forested hills.

I got sick at the start of the vacation, suffering from headaches and an apparent stomach flu. Finally, it got much worse, we feared appendicitis, and there was a Christmas Eve trip to the hospital. There was no one else there in the small-town hospital, and I got superb, super-quick care. It turned out to be only an infection, but I got to have my first CAT scan, and that was quite fun. I had had enough morphine that I didn't think to ask about the precise physics of the CAT scan machine. In the end it was great to be sick while I was on vacation, as I could just rest and my mother and my husband were both around to take care of me. I was a bit spoiled.

I've decided that I would really like to blog more regularly, so I publicly announce here: I'm trying to blog three times a week. And I'll just flat-out admit that it's about my life, which often doesn't have much style. I always worry that my posts aren't sufficiently interesting, but if people don't want to read about my life, it takes about a tenth of a second to click away to something else, so I don't know why I worry.