I'm Banning Myself from Disney!

Since so many sweet friends and readers have been kind enough to ask how I'm feeling, after yesterday's--I hope--final diagnosis, I just had to share.  In the past two weeks, I've been poked, prodded, and sucked by blood-drawing vampires all with no results.  I'm fine, my doctor's nurse kept calling to say.  In the meantime, whenever I strayed so much as five feet from my big green chair I started hurting.

My bestie Margaret is super smart and a tad bossy (in a loving way ), and told me to stop talking to the nurse and make another doctor appointment.  I did.  And we talked and talked and talked about possible causes for this mystery pain.  She carefully palpated my upper right quadrant.  (How's that for fancy med talk?!?!)  It hurt MORE!!!!!

She sat on her rolling stool, crossed her arms and confessed, "Laura, I've got to tell you, I'm stumped."  We talked more and she asked if I've been lifting anything heavy or been hit in that area.  Since I reported the pain started during my California trip, she wanted me to try remembering any kind of bodily trauma I might've suffered . . .

Our entire room's adverse reaction to Friday night's Bananas Foster aside, I did remember an awful lot of motion sickness at Disneyland.

The famous Teacup ride would've sent me to the hospital with nausea!!  LOL!! Brave and fab authors, Margaret Daley, Camy Tang, Danica Favorite, and Caroline A. Godin appointed me official photographer!!

Even with Dramamine, Space Mountain made me want to hurl.  Me and the Matterhorn didn't have such a great time, either.  It's a roller coaster with a fairly violent whipping action.  When we finally--thank you, Jesus--climbed off of this torture device masquerading as fun,  I remember telling Margaret I felt like I broke my back.  The ride HURT.  I took some Advil, more Dramamine and went on with our day.

The dangerous, Matterhorn . . .

Back to yesterday, I described to the doctor how the ride's safety bar hit me right where my pain is.  She shook her head and faintly smiled.  Then tells me she suspects I broke or bruised a rib, and since the tests haven't been looking for anything like that, it never showed up.  She said these kinds of things take a loooong time to heal, but gave me steroids, explaining that if this is what's causing the pain, I should start feeling better very soon.

My favorite ride--It's a Small World!!!

While I'm thrilled for this downright "Goofy" diagnosis--ha ha, get my Disney humor?!--I'm miffed we canceled our trip when odds are I'll be fine by the time we'd have left.  Sigh.

Mini-Vacation--Skinny Butt Required!!

Me and my fab agent, Michelle Grajkowski at the Harlequin party!!

Hate being a Debbie Downer, but ever since returning from RWA I've been sick.  After lots of tests, my doctor suspects a kidney stone(s), but progress in fixing the issue is moving as slow as our horrible Tulsa traffic.  Anyway, I'm not in screaming agony, but I sure don't feel up to doing much of anything.

This wouldn't be any big deal save for the fact that Hubby and I have been planning an amazing trip to Belize since January.  We were to leave in two weeks.  Belize isn't an easy destination.  From Tulsa, takes two days to get there, and pretty much anything you do in the country requires a tiny plane or boat.  We were excited to explore caves, ruins and reefs.  Scuba and zip line.  Considering the fact that lately I need a rest stop every five feet, no Belize for us.  I canceled our international and domestic flights, our romantic luxury hotel and then pouted.  And pouted.  And pouted.

Because of other issues too ghastly to even discuss, it's been a seriously crap few days.  In the midst of our general Altom Crapstorm, my sweet, amazing, handsome hubby took me on a mini-vacation that lifted my spirits.

I was surprised by how small the plane was.

Loving anything vintage, when I saw that a restored DC-3 was on display, I wanted to go!  Now, for hubby, it was all about seeing the plane.  For me, it was about the people who flew on the plane.  I wanted to imagine how elegant air travel used to be.  Even as a kid, I remember my grandmother buying me a new dress to fly in.  The plane we toured is said to have carried only the mega-rich and travelers were dressed just short of Black Tie.  We flipped through photos and the most fun of all were the stewardesses.

Me at the controls!! 

I know, I know, they're now called Flight Attendants, but back when I wanted to be one more than anything in the world, I told everyone I was going to be a stewardess--sounded MUCH more romantic!! Back in the day, there were strict requirements.  From the pics, they were all roughly the same height, had perfect figures and hair and resembled living Barbie Dolls.  From the vintage photos, the glamor factor looks off-the-charts!!

Our tour literally lasted only ten minutes.  Me and my overactive imagination had conjured images of this massive luxury liner complete with a walk-up bar, lounge and huge comfy seats.  I couldn't have been more wrong!  The seats were so narrow, no one on the plane with us even fit in them except for a few little kids!!  Your butt would have to be ridiculously skinny for you to be comfortable!!!  LOL!!  The plane held 21 apparently emaciated passengers, two pilots and a lucky stewardess.

Check out those narrow seats!!! But plenty of leg room . . .

Sweet Hubby bought me a T-shirt and that was my big hour out of the house.  Back home, I was happy for a nap, but at least instead of pouting over our lost trip to Belize, I now had fun dreams of me being a stewardess who only works the routes to Paris and Rome!!

A SEAL's Secret Baby--finally in stores NOW!!!

P.S.  The first book of my new Operation Family SEAL series, A SEAL's Secret Baby debuts this month and should now be in stores nationwide!!  Happy Reading!! :-)