Yoshimi posted on the blog saying it would be neat to spin some of my bunny fiber from Yoshimi. Yes, I do sell my bunny wool, but I won't have any of hers available until next shearing, which won't be until the end of August.
Regular, right-off-the-bunny angora prices are $4/oz. for prime, $3/oz. for short, and $2/oz. for combings. Each bunny gives a variety of grades at every clipping, rather like a sheep. If you are interested, Yoshimi, email me at fuzzarelly at epowerc dot net.
One of the nice things about living in a rural county is that when I called the doctor's office Friday at 8:45 to make an appointment, saying that my asthma was acting up, the receptionist asked if I could be there at 9:30.
The word Asthma apparently set their game plan, because first the aide and then her boss bustled around me. My lungs were listened to and questions were rapidly shot at me. Then the nurse practitioner updated my history and she listened to my lungs, looked in my ears and down my throat. She spoke about getting me a nebulizer. Finally, my doctor arrived and listened to me breathe and looked down my throat, pressed my sinuses, and asked me what was up.
Long story short. The doc doesn't so much think that I have asthma, but rather asthma-like symptoms that are set off by allergies and anxiety. She put me back on the Aunty-depressant but at a lower dose. She prescribed a nasal spray for the allergies and gave me two samples. She said my lungs sounded fine, not like lungs with asthma. Remember, I have been off the Aunty-depressant for about a month and the asthma-like symptoms have worsened for that month. Here it is, a few days later, and I am feeling okay and breathing fine. Haven't used the inhaler since Friday.
I find it fascinating how one's body can manifest the effects of allergies and stress/anxiety. Like hyper-ventilating and difficulty breathing. Like eczema on my hands.(!) Both of those are recent. Stomach upset is an old and familiar indicator. When I was younger, it was a feeling of almost losing control of my mind and body. Or that feeling of dread that occurs as one chugs up that first big hill of the roller coaster, waiting for the bottom to drop out from under me. So much for the grand plan of getting off all my medz. Anyway. Maybe now I can get back to having a life.
