Two days ago, I extolled the virtues of cortisone. Two sleepless nights and 50,000 belabored breaths later, I’m not so sure.

OK, this is the Cleveland Clinic, people; one of the top hospitals in the world. Don’t you think their radiology staff would warn patients of side effects of injected steroids? I mean, in their defense, they did say, “You might feel [thus and so] afterwards,” but at no time did anyone warn me, “Now your face may go all Red Lobster, and you might get jittery and irritable, and you may not be able to breathe very well in a couple of days.” Nope, that I found out on my own. Great timing too, eh? Oy.

*shaking fist at heavens*

Maybe I was expecting miracles, I dunno. But honestly, is it too much to ask to get rid of one pain without inviting three different ones in other places? Sheeps.

Upside? Tomorrow’s the day.

The searing pain in my hip joint is about 90% gone, which means it is not a labral tear that is causing these problems; rather, it’s the arthritis. Still, I have a range of motion in my right leg I haven’t experienced since before Thanksgiving last year. All indicators point to inflammation calming down.

Too bad that most good things have a dark side, though. This is likely why my doc is limiting me to three injections of the magic juice. From orthopedics.about.com:

…animal studies have shown effects of weakening of tendons and softening of cartilage with cortisone injections. Repeated cortisone injections multiply these effects and increase the risk of potential problems. This is the reason many physicians limit the number of injections they offer to a patient.”

Nice. I will enjoy this while it lasts, then go on to the next thing.

Today we get to see all the kids one more time before we leave. Angus steakburgers on the grill, porky beans, macaroni salad, and I’m going to the kitchen right now to start a batch of chocolate chip cookies. (I’m a grammie. I bake. That’s my job.) It’ll be fun seeing everyone before the big push to Wednesday morning.

And of course, I still have to put the hands on a certain body shop tomorrow. Not looking forward to that conversation. Where did I put that Louisville Slugger…

Happy Sumday! Get out and enjoy the sunshine if you can.

First bit of bad news on the Odyssey front.

We’re staying at the gorgeous K Bar S Lodge near Mount Rushmore over the 4th of July, and I just read this morning that they have canceled their huge fireworks show at the monument because of fear of wildfires. Bummer. And the weather is supposed to be gorgeous. Oh well. I understand completely.

The second bit of potential bad news involves the endangered health and welfare of the body shop people if they dink around and end up not getting their shoddy work corrected before Wednesday. There Will Be Blood.

We managed to get everything laid out in suitcases last night. The pre-launch preparations have begun. New GPS maps are downloaded, paper and mail are scheduled to shut down, and Lars and Simone are scheduled to babysit the homestead during the coming weeks. Rousseau is farmed out to BFF Kay and Bob’s for the duration, and we’re at the point where the only things in the fridge are what we plan to actually eat or drink over the next few days.

Am I forgetting anything?

What’s on everyone’s weekend list? Anything fun?

Photo: Chad Coppess, Dakotagraph

Do you find that the closer it gets, the less ready you are? The Thriller and I have much to do before blasting off on Wednesday, not the least of which is to try and get one more vizzy in with the Js.

Every carpeted floor and piece of furniture has been steam cleaned within an inch of its life (Country Mouse, you should see the sofa and easy chair — they look almost like the day Mr. CM upholstered them). You could have a picnic lunch in my closets, the drawers in the dining room sideboard can now be opened without various and sundry items barfing out, and the pantry is looking quite orderly and cute. I can see the surface of my desk as I write this, and I have removed all vestiges of Boston University from my bookcase in the parlor. Success.

And after an entire day of tearing things apart in the house and garage and coming up 100% confused, frustrated and empty, the Thriller finally found the car charger for the laptops. It was in my book bag, where’d I’d stashed it a week ago so we wouldn’t forget it, and then promptly forgot about it. Yipes. Rat Fink, Rat Fink…what a donkey.

Do other people stress about what to bring? I’m a big-picture thinker, so I don’t sweat details very much (which often comes back to bite me in the hiney). I tend to grossly overpack, even though I know we will have to do laundry. Any great secrets? I’ll share one: rolling up your shirts, shorts and jeans really helps to save space in the suitcase.

I covet your suggestions this day. The suitcases are already on the dining room table, and time’s a-wastin’.

FO