Wheel of Morality Turn, Turn, Turn. Tell Us the Lesson We Must Learn!

So last we left our intrepid dilettante, she was having a complete crisis of faith.

So it started happening again – I’d start to get better, decide to take it upon myself to have a Tiki Party with a massive amount of help from the bfs and gf, take down a heroic amount of shots and . . .start to get sick again.

Slowly, it started to dawn on me that maybe, just maybe this was not fibro related. Maybe I was just . . .sick (inconceivable! I always Cast Doubt about that because I feel being such a lemon physically that I should get a free pass, n’est-ce pas?) or had an infection or something.

It’s been more than three weeks of this low grade . . .thing. So finally, I cave about going to see a doctor (I’m insuranceless or my ass would have been there like a bat out of hell week one).

Being insuranceless, my *ideal* doctor’s appointment would be: you have a minor infection, here is a script for cheap or free antibotics.

Because! If it is:

You just have fibro/a cold/allergies/nebulous stinky cat syndrom – *rage!* because I had to pay a lot to hear that.

You need some kind of procedure – *rage!* because I don’t have money for that.

I was *going* to go to the MinuteClinic but Mothra acted like I was going there for a back alley abortion*, all, WHAT! ARE THEY EVEN DOCTORS! WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FIBRO! So I was like, oooooohkay, I’ll go to my usual doctor.

So, I did and it turns out I have a bronchial infection and have been put on a five day dose of Zelasomething and sent home after the appointment. So, it went according to plan, basically. I am going to take it easy this week and look forward to returning to my usual state of feeling sort of like ass instead of flat out like ass. She also said that even a low grade fever is going to fuck up my fibro like whoa. Which means I’ll be plotting, commenting, writing, and other mischievous acts again v. soon.

I picture the conversation between my deities to go something like:

Yemaya: I’ve been trying to tell your daughter this for weeks —
Crow: My daughter? Why is she always my daughter when she gets crazified? I’ve been trying too, I’ve sent crows everywhere to tell her to get her ass to the damn doctor–
Yemaya: She never listens.
Shiva, Durga, Parvati: Srsly. Not even a little.

* The closest one to me isn’t v. close anyway

Deborah Castellano
Deborah Castellano's book Glamour Magic: The Witchcraft Revolution to Get What You Want is available for purchase through Amazon, Llewellyn and Barnes and Noble.
Her frequently updated catalogue of published work is available on Author Central.

She writes about Glamour Magic here at Charmed, I'm Sure. Her podcast appearances are available here.

Her craft shop, The Mermaid & The Crow specializes in old-world style workshop from 100% local, sustainable sources featuring tempting small batch ritual oils and hand-spun hand-dyed yarn in luxe fibers and more!

In a previous life, Deborah founded the first Neo-Victorian/Steampunk convention, SalonCon which received rave reviews from con-goers and interviews from the New York Times and MTV.

She resides in New Jersey with her husband, Jow and their cat, Max II. She has a terrible reality television habit she can't shake and likes St. Germain liquor, record players and typewriters.  


4 Responses

  1. Rufus Opus

    David Koresh listened to God. Look where that got him.

  2. Haha, the MinuteClinic won't kill you. My mother works in one after spending 20 years working the ER, because get this, they pay her more.

    If they have Publixes in your neck of the country, they have a whole list of antibiotics they give out for free, which is handy for most of the easy-to-take-care-of stuff.

    Feel better soon!

  3. Sometimes it's easier to take the too-expensive drugs and get better! Bronchial-stuff is not fun. Breathing is good. Sorry to hear you have it though – hope it's long gone soon!

  4. Miss Sugar

    I am finally better! I've been reveling in my usual only somewhat crappy feeling self!

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