Why Does My Body Suck So Much Ass?

So, lately I've been feeling like crap warmed over. But not the usual crap warmed over. No, that would be too easy.

For the last couple of weeks, I've been unbelievably fatigued. Add to that massive spasms in my left foot and constant cramping/soreness/achiness in my legs. Not good.

So not good that I, Melinda freaking Barton, actually slept through my alarm and showed up late for work TWICE in one week. Then, I took off two whole days! If you've ever worked with me, you know that's huge. My current boss told my coworker, "If Melinda misses one day, she'll be okay. If Melinda misses two days, something is seriously wrong."

Since muscle spasms/cramps are never good when you have a heart condition, I reported to my doctor, who made a much bigger deal of it than I thought she would. Apparently, there's no "medical explanation" for why I should be feeling like this based on my condition, my meds, etc. So, something may be seriously wrong. (Okay, I got charlie horses all the time back when I was a sporty dyke, so I didn't get this.)

The doc ordered blood and urine tests and prescribed me muscle relaxers for the interim. Only good thing: I totally cracked up the cute phlebotomist with my random nerdy comments about needleless blood tests, the future of medical technology a la Star Trek and my relief that my blood was red (After all, this would be a bad time to find out I'm an alien.). That was fun.

What is not fun? Googling foot spasms. When you already have a life-threatening illness, you really don't need to see the words "potentially life-threatening" EVER! associated with what you thought was a minor problem. I guess I don't just need bananas.

That's my Mom's response to everything, by the way. Eat more bananas! You're having muscle spasms? Bananas! You're fatigued? Bananas! You're bleeding from your pores? Bananas! I think my mother must own stock in Chiquita.

Anyway, I'll know within the week. Wish me luck!