I actually went to a Kohl's store a week ago because I feared my credit card might expire from lack of use. That or I would miss the last call to buy summer clothes on sale for my next tropical trip. Yes, I live in Arizona, but they don't sell shorts and tank tops year round. Anyway, I felt like a 100-year old woman -- wheezing, hufffing, puffing, having to sit down and rest, etc... Shopping is HIGHLY overrated!
While I originally poo-poo-ed pleurisy because it sounded like an old timey illness out of a Jane Austen book, I now realize my doctor was dead on with that diagnosis. The crippling knife shooting pains in the upper back are still there and much more noticeable now. Especially if I'm in one of my pity pot moods and actually cry, which brings on the pain. Crying is also HIGHLY overrated!
My favorite ex-pro baseball player from the Dominican Republic who just happens to now be an expert granite installer was in my house on Thursday. He looked at me and said -- you must have chikungunya.
I laughed. That Fausto is so funny! We love to talk baseball with him because he's friends with Omar Vizquel, who once wrecked his Porsche at the bottom of our street in Bellevue, Washington. Fausto also used to live in the Seattle area when he played semi-pro ball and his father-in-law is a Hall of Famer, but that name escapes my addled mind. I also love listening to his Caribbean accent.
Anyway, Fausto explained he'd just been back to the Dominican to visit family and many of them are suffering from chikungunya. Craig and I chuckled after he left, but I started trying to remember what he'd told me so I could tell my doctor about it next week. I'm grasping for answers now! We both thought he said something like chiknpoule. Sounded like a thin chicken gumbo soup. I finally googled chicken flu in Dominican Republic this morning and found chikungunya. I'm positive I don't have that, but it's a dengue type mosquito borne illness that has actually shown up in Arizona this summer because our mosquitos just happen to be the same. I really should just tell Fausto to stop by for a Coke Zero whenever he's in the neighborhood because I learn a lot from that man. And he keeps us both laughing!
If you've read my rambling update, I suppose I should reward you with some bonus photos from Isla Mujeres! Ding ding ding! Here's some Saturday scenes from Hidalgo!
Never tried this place, but there must be a joke to the man(nequin) behind the menu board.
Men hangin' at the beer store.
Vivian's Qubano cats waiting ever so patiently for her to serve their lunch.
Vendor riding down Hidalgo.
A look down the hallway to the tortilleria on Hidalgo.
The corner store.
The Jeep Bakery by the cemetery wall.
Sunset where Hidalgo meets the sea.