Finally, I think my thyroid problem is self correcting again! Yesterday I noticed that the weird taste in my mouth, like I had been chewing "nail flavored" chewing gum, was gone and I could swallow much more easily. I still slept through half of the day, but at least, when I woke up, I felt awake, not like I was just going to fall back to sleep. What do you want to bet that the problem will totally go away between now and the 5th when my insurance kicks in so that by the time I can see a doctor about it there'll be no problem.

Besides, they don't really care if your thyroid is underactive - and you can never go in and say "I think I have an underactive thyroid" - even if you have practically every symptom and a family history ( my dad's side). If you do, the doctor will just roll his eyes and write the equivelent of "fat lazy housewife who read article in Woman's Day and now thinks she's been to medical school" in your chart.

Anyway.

Yesterday, we had another showing of the house, but I really don't know what to think of the whole thing. I was sitting out on the porch, largely because I had been trying to check the mail, but my leg gave out, so I was waiting for it to come back "on-line". A lady who looked like she was in her 70's pulled up and got out. She was very well dressed and wearing expensive jewelry so I took her to be the realtor. She had the closed, hard look of a long time County resident, but there was something else about her - she looked like she cared nothing for anything - as if she were just casting her sour look over my dead lawn ( we haven't had rain in a month, everybody's lawn is dead) out of habit.

"Well, he said he was on his way from Finksburg, but I don't know where he is." she said, meaning her client I presumed.

"Oh, well, you might as well sit down and be comfortable while we wait for him"

And, while we waited, she told me her life story. I didn't mind. That's what I'm here for, in the world, to listen to people and help if I can. But, the older I get the more I realize that I can't really help and the listening might be more important anyway. It wasn't a sad life story. There wasn't much adventure except for a blizzard story. Rather it was a happy tale of deep love between two people - the lady and her husband - with a terrible chapter in the "just now" stage. Her husband had lately had a stroke, and had stroke related dementia. "He's so heavy! I can hardly lift him! What will I do when he can't use the walker any more?"

I found myself wishing, with all my heart, that I had never closed AATH, that I could have offered this person some practical help. Then I looked over at my own cane and sighed. Well, the spirit is willing, but the flesh really is weak.

Presently, Mr. He, the client, showed up in a spicey antique car, with a lady and a little girl in tow. The woman looked exhausted, bleary, and unsure. Finally, I realized that the woman was a not very long time girlfriend and the child was her daughter. But, I had the idea that Mr. He was trying the whole thing on for size - house, wife, kid and all. After the lady was inside for a little while, she looked a little better. Perhaps she was just overheated from hanging around all day in the heat of an antique car show.

The guy was gregarious, with lots of questions about the furnace. I asked lots of questions about the furnace myself when I moved here - the thing is, after all, as old as the house. Luckily for everybody, it runs like a champ, and I can say without the slightest bit of shading that it keeps the house as warm as anyone could want it ( I like my heat in the winter!)without using an unreasonable amount of fuel. He was a little surprise that I could speak intellegently about the furnace, the air flow through the ducts, etc, so I told him I worked for an HVAC company - which, of course, has nothing to do with the knowlege I have about the furnace in my own house!

I have no idea what he thought of the place. He was warm on the idea of the car port and said that it seemed a "solid little house" ( which it is) but he didn't seem to be in love with it.

And, as for the realtor, there's no amount of commission that could bring her any joy, God Bless her.