2002-07-23 10:19 p.m. a projectile sort of evening

I made quiche for dinner tonight. It's the end of my two days off in a row, they were a nice two days. All of today was spent driving Colin around to appointments for his brain. He's had headaches and was worried about them so he had blood drawn and an MRI and all of these places were across town from each other. His arm hurt so I had to drive for him, then he didn't like my driving and then we ate tuna melt. He even got to keep a big lab-quality copy of his brain scan, he's going to put it in his office. It was kind of weird, looking at a picture of my friend's brain. I don't think of people in terms of lungs or hearts or brains, just people or maybe ideas, so it's strange to see car accidents or x-rays sometimes. I wish I could have kept the x-rays of my curvy spine. I could probably get new ones sometime if I wanted, it's not like it went away or anything.

I wanted to look into volunteering to hold premature babies at the hospital, but the hospital near me doesn't even have a labor unit. Which is unfortunate, but maybe I can take the bus to the other hospital down the road. The trouble is that school is north and this other place is east, and the commute would just look like a giant L with my apartment at the corner. And part of the reason I was interested in volunteering at that particular hospital was that it's so close to school. Only the rapid and constant consumption of Vanilla Coke can ease this pain.

I made that quiche and I haven't even had any because I'm having some terrible stomach pain that was probably caused by Colin's botched macaroni. It ended up sort of with noodles mixed around giant balls of oil and cheese. It was kind of tasty, as cheese oil balls go, but it's doing a number on the old digestive tract. And now my stomach is making these popping noises like it's trying to blow bubbles in my liver and it's not as much fun as you might think. I am going to go to the bathroom now.