Wednesday in FibroLand

When people ask "how do you feel?" I'm not sure if it's easier for me to say "today kind of sucks" or to say something along the lines of this:

Today when I woke up, I was stiff from head to knee. My ankle was wrapped in a compression sock because it was swollen twice the normal size last night (continued tendonitis issue). I took a few minutes to VERY SLOWLY sit up in bed, stretching my joints so I could actually get out of bed. I walked downstairs - stiffly - and as the next 30 minutes wore on the stiffness wore off. But I could still feel the aches in my limbs and joints. For me, the shoulders, elbows, and hips are my worst points. Today I felt the most pain in my shoulders. It's a constant ache, it never really "goes away." If I sit for too long at my desk I stiffen up from head to toe. It's a good thing my Apple Watch tells me stand every now and then, otherwise Kevin might come home to find me stuck in my chair. Tonight as I'm typing this both of my arms are tingling from shoulder to fingertip. You know that tingling feeling you get when your feet fall asleep? Yeah? Imagine your arms feeling like that. Or your whole body. It isn't pleasant - my arms felt like that for an hour. Now it's just a dull tingle combined with a dull ache. Joy.

Of course, that's just how I felt today.
Tomorrow will be a different story.

I've been wondering if this whole tingly-feeling is me being "crazy" or if it really is a "fibro thing." According to my rhuematologist (who is so effing cool)...it's "normal." Or at least it's normal for my fibro.

See, the thing is - according to my doctor and other things I've read - everyone's fibro is different. Some people don't have a lot of pain, but they have debilitating fatigue. Some people have pain so severe they can't get out of bed.

Me?

Apparently I am overly sensitive to the sensation of "touch" ... among other things like the whole body tingling feeling. (Maybe this explains why I'm not that big on hugging). My doc says not everyone with fibro has that sensitivity .. but I do. And to be told that I'm not crazy for that was a bit refreshing.

So there you have it - a day in the life of me as I try to navigate this fibro thing.

Onward and upward....

Diagnosis.

OK, here it is you guys.

The moment you've all (and by "all" I mean the two people other than my mom who happen to still read this blog) been waiting for.

Drum roll please.

Remember how I mentioned a few posts back that I've been dealing with some "medical stuff" but didn't want to delve into it at the moment?

No?
Well, trust me, I did mention it.

Long story super short: I've been dealing with odd aches and pains since about January, maybe earlier. I've also been feeling "off" and "out of sorts" and more tired than normal. And I've been sleeping for CRAP.

I'm talking the worst sleep ever - even worse than when I was 9 months pregnant and sleeping on the couch because I was so uncomfortable. We're talking about horrible, shitty, awful sleep. Waking up in pain at 3 a.m. every f*cking night kind of sleep.

Oh, and my moods? Holy Toledo I've been a bitch.
I mean....more so than normal.

So...(remember this is the short version)....I went to my doctor who ran some blood work, thinking I had Rheumatoid Arthritis. Blood work came back "not normal" so she sent me to a Rheumatologist. He examined me, did more blood work (tested for RA, Lupus, Vitamin D deficiency, and thyroid disease) and.....the final diagnosis?

I know you're on the edge of your freaking seat, aren't ya?

Well...I don't have any of those diseases.

Nope.

The "good news" according to my rheumatologist is that I have Fibromyalgia.

(I have to note that spellcheck doesn't even think Fibromyalgia is a word. It's underlined in red as if I spelled it wrong or made it up. Trust me, I didn't).

So yeah.
There it is.
After months of wondering WHAT THE HELL was wrong with me and why I felt like total crap...I have an answer.

Can't say it's the answer I wanted.
Not that I wanted ANY of those illnesses.
But I'm not really happy about this one either.

Bright side: at least now when my shoulders, arms, elbows, wrists, back, and hips hurt to varying degrees EVERY F*CKING DAY I can blame it on Fibro. And when I forget why the hell I went downstairs I can blame it on Fibro. And when I NEED to go to bed at 8:30 at night on any given night because it hurts to move/walk/breathe (and I feel physically sick from pain like I did Tuesday night), I can blame it on Fibro.

So what am I going to do about this?
Well, I'm not going to take medicine.

I'm sure you've seen the commercials for various Rx meds for people with Fibro. I'm not taking ANY of them. Why? (1) Because I detest taking medicine and (2) because they are only going to mask my symptoms. There is NO CURE for this illness.

I am stuck with Fibro for now and forever.

So what am I doing about it?

Well...(here's where you might laugh)
I'm going to start yoga.

...Namaste bitches. ;)...

And I am going to try acupuncture ... because being stuck with needles sounds so pleasant.
And I'm going to drink healthy smoothies for breakfast.
And I am eventually going to switch to half-decaf coffee. 
And I am going to lose some many LBS.

And I'm going to keep on keeping on and NOT let this drag me down.

I refuse to let Fibro define ME.

I'm still me...I just happen to hurt every day and take sleeping pills now to help me sleep (they don't help). But I'm still alive and standing and dripping with snark and sarcasm. I'm still doing what I was doing before this stupid diagnosis - working, doing laundry, cooking meals, playing with my kids, golfing (poorly), and going out with friends. I just happen to do it all with Fibro tagging along like that painful bitch she is.

Also, if you ask me "how are you doing today?" I'm probably going to tell you "I'm fine" even when I'm not (unless you're my mom or sister or husband and then I'll bitch and moan about all of it and how much it all sucks so F*CKING much). And maybe on that given day I really am "fine" (like today...today was a freaking ah-mazing day). Or maybe I'm not fine. You might never know.

So there it is.

And if you're so inclined and want to learn more about Fibromyalgia you can visit this website.

Yep. Monday.

I'm going to skip my regularly scheduled program of random Monday afternoon thoughts today and just focus on one thing.

Medical stuff to be exact.

Long story short: for about the last 6 weeks or so I've been having pain in my hands, wrist, elbows, and shoulders. Nothing unbearable but a lot of joint pain. At first I ignored it ... like "wow, I guess this is what happens when you turn 43." Then it got annoying. And the pain got worse.

So last week I went to the doctor - and we all know how much I detest the doctor - and after listening to my symptoms she said it sounds like it could be rheumatoid arthritis but she's not 100 percent sure. So I had to do a blood test AND get X-rays on my hand (due to swelling and pain in my thumb joint).

The results so far: X-ray is "normal" .. whatever that means. My thumb joint still hurts and it's still swollen so I guess that's "normal" now. And, while my RA factor was "normal" my ANA levels are "elevated."

The doctor isn't sure why they are elevated or what it means - so now I have to see a rheumatologist to figure out what the hell is going on. Basically an elevated ANA level could indicate an auto-immune disease (like RA or something else) or it could mean nothing.

So right now I'm at a "wait-and-see" standpoint and won't know anything until I see a rheumatologist. Until then I'll just deal with the almost-constant aches and pains and keep on keepin' on. ;)

Monday Afternoon Musings - Happy Leap Day!

Hey there. Happy Leap Day! Not sure how one celebrates today (or if you even need to celebrate), but whatever. Eat some chocolate or something. It IS Monday, after all.

It was gorgeous here yesterday - sunny, windy, and 65 freaking degrees outside. Today? Less sunny, just as breezy, and less warm. Tomorrow? Snowstorm.

Yeah, I love Ohio.
Not really.

Let's just get on with this shall we?

1. The Oscars: I remembered why I don't watch The Oscars anymore. They're boring as F*CK. Honestly. Boring. Yes, Chris Rock was good. He handled the whole #OscarsSoWhite controversy in a funny yet respectful way. Leo won. Of course he did. Sly Stallone lost. WTF? The dresses were boring. The whole show was a snooze fest. If they would just hand out the damn awards without all the fluff between the awards it would be like a 60-minute show. At least I had The Walking Dead to entertain me between awards.

2. I have managed to make a new dish every single week since proclaiming that as my goal back in January. Yay me. Hell, the kids have even tried all the new dishes. They haven't liked them all but they tried them.

3. I'm in pain. And no, surprisingly enough it isn't my ankle this time. I've been dealing with pain in my hand, wrists, elbows, and shoulders for about a month or so. My right hand is also swollen between the joints in the hand. So.....as much as I hate doctors (specifically my doctor) I am going in on Friday to figure out what the hell is going on. I'm tired of being achy all the time.

4. Tomorrow is Super Tuesday. I'll be glued to the TV tomorrow night. #FeelTheBern people. #FeelTheBern.

And there you have it. All the random stuff going on in my head right now. Enjoy your "extra" day today. :)

At Least Your Toes Look Pretty

I'm calling yesterday "Groundhog Day for the Boot."

Went to the ortho surgeon for a(nother) follow-up appointment to see if the perpetual boot wearing and physical therapy was actually helping my ankle.

Long story short - it's not.

Doc poked and prodded my ankle (and it hurt like HELL). Then he tells me to stand on my toes on BOTH feet. No problem. Then he says, "OK pick up your left foot so you're ONLY standing on your right foot."

Nope.
Not gonna happen.
I can't stand on my toes on my right foot.

So doc says "well, I would normally recommend that brace you got four years ago but I know you don't like it." No, I hate it.

And then he says "so let's so SIX MORE WEEKS of the boot and physical therapy." (Hence the Groundhog Day reference...the boot saw its shadow and I'm stuck in it for six more weeks).

And if that doesn't work? Then we talk about an MRI and possibly surgery.

I'm stuck in this effin' boot for six more weeks. But, as everyone is so keen to point on, at least my toes look pretty.

Shame on Doctors for Fat Shaming

Here's a newsflash - I'm overweight.

There. Now the whole world (or the 5 people who read my blog) know that I weigh more than I should based on all those BMI charts and scales.

I also know how I got overweight - I have a love affair with sugar, ice cream, and other "bad" food. And I hate to exercise. So ice cream + sitting on my ass = Fat Traci.

Whatever. I'm working out now and I'm not eating crap at night and my goal is to get back down to my "wedding weight." I won't tell you what that number is, but let's just say it'll take a while to get there.

So I know that I'm overweight. I don't need anyone to tell me that I need to lose weight. And I certainly don't need to be handed a set of "how to lose weight instructions" like the one my friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) was handed at the end of her OB-Gyn appointment today:

First let's note that this "list of things to do to lose weight" states at the very top that the person holding the letter is OVERWEIGHT. 

Next, it's a list of "instructions" on how to lose weight. Because clearly FAT SHAMING YOUR PATIENT BY CALLING THEM OVERWEIGHT on a list of weight loss instructions isn't enough. You also have to make them feeling like a f***ing moron by giving them instructions to lose weight.

Because you know all fat people are also STUPID and they have NO F***ING CLUE HOW TO LOSE WEIGHT.

Because obviously being overweight means that your brain can't function like skinny people brains. All our fat sucks the intelligence right out of our brains and deposits it somewhere else - like my ass.

Of course if that's the case I must be a freaking genius based on the size of my ass.

If I had been handed this piece of paper with instruction on how to get skinny and not be labeled overweight I'm quite certain that I would have torn it up in little pieces RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOCTOR and then tossed those pieces of paper onto the exam table. Right where my big smart ass had been sitting naked just moments earlier.

There is NOTHING OK with this list for "fat folks."
Nothing.

I am appalled that (1) the doctor felt it was appropriate for the nurse to hand this piece of paper to my friend rather than actually doing her job as a DOCTOR and having a discussion about health and weight, and (2) I'm equally appalled that the corporation that runs this doctor's office (cough-ProMedica-cough) thinks fat shaming like this and calling patients overweight on a list of weight loss "instructions" is acceptable.

Let me tell you a little secret - people who are overweight already KNOW THAT THEY'RE OVERWEIGHT. They sure as shit don't need to be handed a piece of paper with the word OVERWEIGHT at the top followed by a list of "tips" to help us not be overweight.

Tips like: keep a food journal, write down why you ate, eat only when you're hungry, blah blah blah. Honestly my 7 year old could write a better and less condescending list than this. 

Overweight people aren't stupid and we sure as hell don't deserved to be shamed at our doctor's office or anywhere else. We're all struggling to get healthy and stay healthy. So maybe you doctors should pull your heads out of your asses and remember that.

Back to My Regularly Scheduled Program

So I know it's ONLY December 15 (yeah, only) but I'm already making a New Year's resolution - I need to blog more.

I go to bed each night with all these bloggy ideas running through my head but since my JOB that pays me REAL MONEY is all about the writing of many, many words every day the last thing I think about at the end of the day is this blog. (I'm sorry blog. It's not you, it's me.)

So I'll try to do better next year. Hell, maybe I'll even do the NaBloPoMo in January where I write a post every single day. We'll see how I feel on January 1.

Anyway....

Here's what's happening in my fishbowl lately.

First, I have to say this: I am so sick and freaking tired of people who are assholes about food allergies.

There.
I said it.

And I'll say it again, this time with feeling:
Stop being an asshole when it comes to food allergies.

Don't tell me that I need to "step it up" and bring my own food to school events. Because if there's one thing food allergy parents do EVERY SINGLE DAY it's step up. We spend our days worrying about our kids and what they're eating and what their friends are eating at the lunchroom table and if we're going to get THAT CALL from the school telling us our kid is having an allergic reaction.

So don't freaking tell me to step up. And don't tell me that the note sent to all the room moms at school with a "safe snack" list isn't relevant to you because your kid doesn't have a classmate with food allergies. It's called food allergy education you cold-hearted dimwit so maybe you need to educate yourself on just how serious (and deadly) food allergies are because I guarantee one of these years your kid WILL have a classmate with food allergies and if you're educated you won't seem like such an asshole.

And when I post something on my Facebook page about peanut butter and how I think it should be banned in classrooms with peanut allergy kids, don't tell me I'm wrong. Because you know what? I'm not wrong. I'm 1000% right and it isn't something that is up for debate. Your kid won't die if they don't eat peanut butter but my kid could die if she does. So shut the hell up already.

[Wow. I feel like a million times better right about now. I guess I needed that mini-rant.]

Next, today was one of those days where I wasn't sure how things were going to end up.

See, I got a phone call last week telling me that my annual mammogram had "differences" when compared to last year's scan and I needed to come back for a second diagnostic mammogram. Not the phone call any woman wants to hear if I'm being totally honest.

And so I spent the better part of the past week wondering what the hell was going on. And I will admit I did a few self exams in the process just to make sure I didn't feel anything weird. I Googled "follow-up mammogram" and "second mammogram" and various other search terms. I WedMD'd it. (I also just made WedMD a verb but whatever). And I tried to keep telling myself to stop worrying so much already.

Today was my "diagnostic screening." I took my mom with me.

After sitting in a tiny little nook wearing only a pink "cape" and my jeans for nearly 30 minutes, I was finally called into a screening room. (While I'm on the subject...let's talk about this pink cape. Seriously people. Can you give a girl a little dignity please? "Take off everything from the waist up and put on this pink cape that ONLY ties at the neck and flies open at the slightest movement so that you have to cross your arms in front of you lest you flash the next person who walks by." Yeah. So totally awesome. They could at least toss us Mardi Gras beads as they walk by.)

Anyway....I had an awesome tech (is that what they're called?) doing the screening. She explained what they were looking for (HELLO??? Why can't they tell you that when they call you???? Would have saved a lot of anxiety!!) and she even showed me the two scans so I could compare them.

Long story short: calcifications were the issue and they were microscopic (and actually had to be magnified in the scans). And from last week to this week a few of them even seemed to disappear. The radiologist said I need to come back in six months for another mammogram but that it wasn't anything to worry about.

Huge. Exhale. Here.

So my takeaway is this: get your mammogram ladies. NOW.

And that my friend is what's happening in my fishbowl right now. Only 10 more days 'til Christmas and for the first time in forever I'm not feeling totally overwhelmed or stressed about the holiday. I'm sure that will change soon.

Stupid Doctors. Stupid Heartburn.

Look, I'm normally in a good mood.
Really, I am.

Although my most recent blog posts might make you believe otherwise, I am generally a happy person.

However, certain things really annoy me. Bad grammar. Overuse of exclamation points. And being told that I HAVE to do something that I don't want to do (or don't feel that I should be required to do).

Case in point: being told that I HAVE to schedule a "well check" with my primary care physician just so that I can get a refill on a prescription medication.

Oh and that medication? Yeah that would be Nexium. That little purple pill that is a miracle of modern science and keeps me from having horrific heartburn on a daily basis.

Apparently - according to my "doctor" - the "new healthcare regulations" REQUIRE a "well visit" EVERY SIX MONTHS in order to "assess the need" for the medication.

Seriously.

Every. Six. Months.

I don't have to visit my OB-Gyn every six months to "assess the need" for birth control. Once a year is fine and dandy with them.

But heartburn? Yeah that needs assessment. Every. Six. Months. Because after suffering from chronic heartburn for the last EIGHT YEARS I'm sure it's going to suddenly change in the next six months.

Here's a suggestion - give me a bowl of spicy chili on a day when I don't take my Nexium and record what happens. There's an assessment for ya.

Not happy with the statement that was read to me by the doctor's office - stating that she could lose her license if she doesn't have a note in my medical files that I need Nexium - I said "fine, I'll come in for a flu shot next week and then I'll tell the doctor how stupid HER policy is."

Because I'm quite certain this is a policy being handed down by the powerhouse medical firm that essentially owns Toledo. "Hey! Let's force everyone to pay a co-pay EVERY SIX MONTHS in order to refill a prescription for heartburn medicine THAT THEY CAN BUY OVER THE COUNTER."

Yes, that's right. I CAN buy Nexium OTC. But it's not as strong as the Rx version - and I need the strong stuff.

So I'll play their game for now. I'll go in next week for my "well visit" during which time they'll weigh me (yeah, I know I'm overweight), measure my height (because at age 41 1/2 I'm SURE I've gotten taller), and take my BP. And then when they ask "so why are you here today?" I'll say "so I can get my Nexim refilled so can you just give me my flu shot and call in the refill so I can go home."

I. Hate. Doctors.

My Allergy Adventure [Alternate Title: The Day They Had to EpiPen Me. Twice.]

Yesterday was one of those days.

I had to be at the allergist's office at 9 a.m. for my "penicillin challenge" - which really does sound like some sort of Hunger Games type challenge when you think about it.

Here's the back story: Back in January when I had the plague (OK, it was strep throat but it felt like the Plague), my doctor prescribed an antibiotic for me that she thought would 'work' and not cause me any additional issues. [I have a low tolerance for antibiotics and we were running low on options]. I took the antibiotic (clindamycin) for the full 10 days and then I broke out into hives as soon as I stopped taking it.

My doctor decided I needed to see an allergist to determine why I was allergic to that medicine and what we could do about it.

The allergist said the only antibiotic they can test as an allergen is penicillin (which I hadn't taken in six years because the last time I took that I broke out into hives).

Which bring us to the "challenge" yesterday.

The test started out with a skin test - which was fine. I had no reaction. Then they started shooting penicillin into my arms every 10 minutes. The doses were something like: 1/100,000; 1/10,000; 1/1,00; 1/100, 1/10; and then full strength. After the injections I was going to have to take a couple of doses of amoxocillin by mouth.

The doses were going OK until we hit the 1/10 and full dose. Within a minute or two of the full strength dose I noticed a few things going wrong. My head was immediately stuffy, I was congested, my tongue was tingling, and my lungs were tight.

None of these things seemed OK to me, so I told the nurse who told the allergy doctor. He sent me off to do a breathing test. I passed that but was still feeling "off" so they decided to "observe" me for a bit. Sitting there knowing I was having a reaction to the penicillin was rather nerve racking...the worst part was knowing that my breathing was not OK.

After about 30 minutes the allergy doc came back, looked at my arms (which now had red welts at the injection sites) and said "I'm not comfortable continuing this test. You're having a full reaction and you're officially allergic to penicillin."

Oh, and we're going to have to EpiPen you.
Twice.

Well that's just dandy. 

And sure enough, the nurse comes in and shoots me with epinephrine (via syringes) in both arms. If you have never experienced being EpiPen'd let me tell you it is very unpleasant. Almost immediately I was jittery and shaking and it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. To say it was awful would be an understatement. I also had to take a Zyrtec just for good measure.

And then I sat there, shaking and jittery, for 45 minutes while they continued to "observe" me. Then the doctor comes in and says I surprised him by "failing" the challenge. (Oh goody). And then he gives me a list of all the antibiotics I must avoid, including penicillin (in all I can't take five different "families" of antibiotics in addition to Celebrex).

He also tells me I need to wear a medical alert bracelet at all times (I think I'll just wear it when I'm out and about). And then he gives me a prescription for steroids to help put a stop to the reaction.

The rest of the day was a train wreck. I felt like total crap (and oh yeah, driving after you've been double EpiPen'd is NOT recommended). After the epi wore off I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I couldn't concentrate, I just wanted to sleep.

Oh and I was also itchy all over because I was still having a reaction (once the epi wore off). I ended up taking two prednisone and sleeping for two hours.

Yay for allergy challenges.
Not. 

As unpleasant as the challenge was, it's good to know that I really am allergic. And thankfully (??) there are still three types of antibiotics I can take if when I get sick again.

My Achilles ... a cautionary tale

That photo over there?
Yep, that was me earlier this fall.

I still have the boot.
Because it's so stylish and functional of course.

Let me tell you a short story about walking, antibiotics, Achilles tendons, and pain. Lots of pain.

Last fall I decided (again) that I need to get off my butt and starting "exercising." It should be noted that I hate to exercise. I find it boring and it really cuts into my "sitting on the couch playing Words with Friends" time.

Anywho.

I bought running shoes. $125 running shoes. I was going to train for a 5K race. And yeah, I thought I was going to RUN THE RACE. Then, as I'm prone to do in the fall, I got bronchitis. Knock me on my needs-to-exercise butt bronchitis. My doctor prescribed the antibiotic Cipro (also know an Ciproflaxin). This is where things went really wrong.

See, what I didn't know then (but oh do I know now) is that the leading side effect of taking Cipro is that you can either (a) develop tendinitis or (b) suffer a tendon rupture. And yes, I'm sure that information was listed somewhere in the possible side effects but I don't read that stuff (really, who does?)

(It should be noted that my foot doctor said a full Achilles rupture is usually what happens when one is taking Cipro and that I was "lucky." I'm not sure I like his definition of luck.)

So, last fall as I'm out walking one day I suffered a partial rupture of my Achilles tendon. I didn't realize it when it happened. I do remember feeling pain one day while walking but it wasn't enough to knock me down. I just kept walking and figured it was just muscle strain. By mid-November last year I was in serious pain. I stopped my "exercising." And then it got cold and I had no desire to freeze while walking.

Then I walked the 5K in February and was in pain. I was in pain pretty much every single day for months and months and months. I kept putting off a visit to the foot doctor, hoping it would just go away.

Look people...a good rule of thumb is this: if you're in pain, go to the damn doctor. I will admit that what I did was stupid. And now I'm paying for it.

I did finally go to the doctor - hence that very sexy walking boot up there - but it was a total waste of my time. One set of X-rays, one walking boot, three weeks of physical therapy and one MRI later I'm still in just as much pain as I was in August. I still have a lump on my Achilles (which according to my foot doctor is scar tissue and will never go away). And I still can't walk for any extended period of time without pain and swelling. I also can't stand for any extended amount of time without serious swelling.

And so here I am.

In pain. Unable to train for that 1/2 marathon I so wanted to do for my 40th birthday. And headed to a orthopaedic surgeon in two weeks. My regular foot doctor basically sent me off with "I can't do anything else for you, but here's a prescription for Celebrex." So, I'm not sure what the surgeon's solution will be. Maybe surgery is my only option - which would put me in a plaster cast for about 6 weeks and gosh that would be so much fun.

And so I leave with you a few nuggets of wisdom: If you think you might have hurt yourself, don't wait to go to the doctor. Just go. And, if your primary care physician wants to put you on Cipro the next time you need an antibiotic, just say no. Your tendons will thank you for it.

What I know is this: I need to find some sort of solution. I'm tired of living with this pain all the time. And there's a 1/2 marathon out there just waiting for me. But I think it's going to have to be for my 41st birthday.

I couldn't make this up if I wanted to...

My darling 3 year old came running into the kitchen 30 minutes ago yelling "potato chip in my nose! potato chip in my nose!"

Sure enough, there is a potato chip IN HER NOSE.

It's stuck. I can't get it out. She can't blow it out.

And so, we are headed to the doctor's office for 'potato chip removal'.

I find a bit of humor in this because when Olivia was 3 she stuck a PAIR of pink Polly Pocket shoes up her nose. Read the full story here, here, and here.

Apparently there is something in my kid's genes that makes them want to stick things up their noses!

(And yes, in case you're wondering, Emma WAS eating potato chips at 9:30 in the morning. Why? Because some battles just aren't worth fighting. She wanted chips. I didn't want to listen to her crying and whining if she didn't get them. Clearly I am not in the running for mother of the year.)

Editor's note: 12:42 pm:
After a short trip to the doctor's office (and the required $25 copay), the potato chip is OUT. All it took was a little saline nose spray and a few good "nose blows" and the darn thing came flying out. The chip in question was more of a crumb...about the size of a pencil eraser. So, the lesson here is: if I would stock my medicine cabinet with nasal spray I could have saved myself $25. Unreal.