As a part of the whole Lupus regimen started taking methotrexate on Saturday. I was sort of dreading taking it because of the conversation my doctor and I had a few weeks ago.  She basically said to avoid alcohol completely as methotrexate and alcohol can cause irreversible damage to the liver leading to cirrhosis.

“So…you’re telling me I can’t drink?” I say. She looks at me blankly. “Yes”, she says. This is where my negotiation tactics kick in. “So…define ‘can’t drink’”.

Let me interrupt here for a minute. I’m not a boozy, slurring mom who needs a beer to go to the playground and I know this is my health we’re talking about here. With an 8 month old and a 3 year old at home though, sometimes a glass of wine at the end of the night is a welcome reward, especially on a day when I find a headless mouse on the back porch. More on that later.

The doctor takes a deep breath and says “Ok, let’s say 1 drink a month.” I felt victorious. She goes on to say that because Methotrexate is an immunosuppressant, I will have to avoid infections and be really careful about exposure to colds and the like.

Um, Hi, have we met? I have two small children so I’m basically swimming around in a vat of snot most of the time. I’ll get right on that “avoiding infections and being careful about exposure”. Argh.

In addition to starting methotrexate she wanted me to have my knees X-rayed because they pretty much hurt all the time. She found this curious and doesn’t think it’s connected to the Lupus.

So, I take my 80 year old body down to the Radiology place and it was really uneventful except for one thing. I’m laying on the table in my gown and the tech is xraying my knees and then he starts stuttering and mumbling about something. I have a soft spot for socially inept males. They see boobs and suddenly can’t form a sentence. Aw. Later I understood why he was all wiggly and uncomfortable.

“Um…I need you, you have to…I need you to be on your extremties” He mumbles with his hand over his mouth.

“What?” I say. Extremeties? What am I? A fucking Orangutan?

“Um, I need you to be on all of your extremeties?” He says while miming what he wants me to do.

“Oh, Ok” I say and get on my knees. The Xray tech has me on all fours on the table. Yup. There’s me doggie style in the Xray lab. He continues to adjust things to get the right shot of the back of my knees and I kid you not for a few moments I felt a strong kinship to Traci Lords. He was so funny about it. I’m sure he couldn’t eat lunch because it freaked him out so much.

Now back to the headless mouse.

Our cat, Stan is a bad ass. He’s mostly an outdoor cat and LOVES to bring home birds and mice in the neighborhood.  So Stan kills a mouse about once a week or so and leaves it outside next to the sliding glass door in the kitchen. I will see it while making coffee and if Peter hasn’t left yet, I’ll enlist him to get it. Otherwise, I’ll get it. It’s nasty but I just suck it up and do it. Today he got creative and left it under the picnic table sans head so I didn’t see it when we went outside. We’re outside enjoying the weather when I see the headless Mickey and say out loud “Oh…No…”

Hadley immediately figured it out somehow and I said “Do not touch it.” and went in to get a bag to dispose of it. When I come back out she’s shrieking gleefully “I want to touch it, Mom!!! Is it dead!!??!?! I want to touch it!!” I ignore her and get the body into the bag and knot it over and over and go to throw it away. Hadley is really freaking out at this point BEGGING me to let her throw it away. “Fine, here you go” I say and she beams as she tosses this dead rodent into the trash can.  Meanwhile she’s wearing her princess dress. She also discussed today her desire to get a pet rat and the newest is she wants an armadillo. Sweet Lord.