Breathe like you mean it.
2005-10-08 3:52 p.m.

Yesterday I went into hospital for pulmonary function tests. It felt like I did really well (I was up all night studying) but I don�t know how to read all those strange numbers that showed up on the computer screen. Basically they lock you in this plexiglass cube and when you hit a switch you get a little pellet of food you wrap your mouth around this tube and breathe in and out in different ways while the computer calculates your lung capacity and O2 and CO2 exchange. All that yogic breathing finally has paid off. Now I have to wait two weeks before I get to see the pulmonologist. I�m really hanging a lot of my hopes and faith on this one physician that I�ve never met. However, I�m also a smart cookie and have a back up plan in case another specialist dumps me. I requested copies of my medical records and have found three physicians in Oregon that specialize in sarcoidosis. If I have to, I�ll pay to see someone outside of my HMO in consultation. I really just need someone to tell me what the hell is wrong with me and what I need to do in order to get better. I need some reassurance that this thing isn�t in my heart and will not kill me. I�ve got huge amounts of fear that needs to be assuaged. So far all my doctors have been very hands off � sorry, not my specialty. Even The Big Red Book only had one page on sarcoidosis � an autoimmune diseases that can strike any system in the body. Kind of a big deal, no? On an up note, I�m going to watch some improv tonight and laugh myself silly (sillier?). Then I plan on doing something extraordinarily life affirming.

0 People have tried to sell me Viagra
You can't make this shit up.
2005-10-07 2:23 p.m.

I was standing in the bathroom blow drying my hair, trying to achieve that intentionally messy Bridget Bardot look. Loki came running in and violently attacked the drawstring on my yoga pants. After he untied me, he let out a blood curdling battle cry and ran from the room. As I was standing there trying to figure out what the hell just happened, my pants fell down. If I was wearing a clown nose it would have been a perfect moment.

1 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Read At Your Own Risk!
2005-10-06 1:45 p.m.

A friend of mine has had a stalker/flamer on his blog that has been giving him a lot of flack. So before anyone gets any bright ideas, I thought I�d post a list of reasons of why you should not read this blog.

1. I write entirely too much about my medical condition(s). I am obsessed about the clinical status of my body and write about it in intricate detail. Probably to the point of TMI.

2. I am completely obsessed with my own breasts.

3. I am superficial, shallow and think that I�m all that and a bag of chips.

4. I occasionally exaggerate in my blog to appear far more entertaining and wittier than I actually am. I know this will come as a complete shock to all of you and I want to apologize for being the only person on diaryland that does this. I�ve broken the unspoken code of bloggers that everything you write must be 100% true and completely accurate. Mea culpa.

5. Despite having an English degree I have deplorable use of grammar and insist on making up words such as: craptastic, slut-o-rama and dorkfuck. I also have been known to use slang and swear.

6. The majority of my entries fall into the following entries: Silly Cat Stories, Things I Don�t Recommend Doing, HMO Hell, Pointless Things I Did Today, Look at my Cleavage, Shopping Therapy and Why I�ll Never Drink Again.

Why should I not read your blog?

5 People have tried to sell me Viagra
The Magnificent FiFi Meringue.
2005-10-04 1:24 p.m.

Amazing feat of the day: I just took off my jeans without unbuttoning them or unzipping them. For my next trick I will attempt to establish diplomatic relations between Syria and the United States. Ta-da!

3 People have tried to sell me Viagra
Miss Diagnosis
2005-10-04 12:03 p.m.

Hello. My name is Kungfukitten and I have sarcoidosis. Hi, Kungfukitten! I went to the doctors this morning and she got out The Big Red Book that she takes out every time I come in with a completely bizarre confounding diagnosis. I swear, I have been put on this earth solely to amuse my physician. "You've had all these symptoms for months. How could we miss this?" She says and pokes at the page in The Big Red Book that describes sarcoidosis. How, indeed. It's been a miserable eight months. She showed me my weight chart and the plumetting red line. At least I look sexy when I'm ill. I've got that going for me. Never mind the funky ass eyes.

We discussed the possible need for biopsy to cinch the diagnosis. I show her my legs. "They could cut off one of these!" and I point to the red marks on my shin. My doctor informs me that shins take for-evah to heal and I'd be stuck with a small disfiguring scar. The question becomes: how vain am I about my legs? Would I rather have them take out a chunk of lung tissue - ouch, but no scar! Or would I rather have them scrape off some flesh from my shin? The obvious answer is the shin and then get a tattoo to cover up the scar after I heal. Duh.

2 People have tried to sell me Viagra

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