Another day, another doctor visit.

Last week I was experimented upon. Today the results came in. So I went on down to find out what was wrong with me.

Chest X-rays: all fine.
Multiple blood tests: Fine fine fine.
I'm not anemic. My potassium levels are great. White blood cells normal. Everything about my blood, my kidneys, my liver: fine. I'm a picture of health. There's nothing wrong with me.

Pardon me if I don't stand up right now. I'm feeling a bit woozy. I never knew healthy could feel so bad.

Now here's a problem with medicine and science: way too heavy reliance on tests and experimentation. An almost obsessive focus on the objective rather than the subjective. The tests are objective. They say there is nothing wrong with me. Therefore, in the doctor's eyes, I am fine. The fact that even walking around makes me feel woozy and nauseous and exhausted is subjective and so is irrelevant.

Maybe I'm stressed, the doctor suggests (well, I am now). (The fact that Steph has the same symptoms must mean it's a strain of infectious stress.)

Bah. I'm not impressed with doctors at the moment.

#
Two months have passed? Check.
Another issue of Internet Review of Science Fiction? Check.
Then it must be time for Bluejack to trash one of my stories again. Sigh.

#
Okay, enough moaning. No matter how ill we are, we're off to WorldCon on Thursday morning. We're going to enjoy it and Glasgow, even if it means we're sick for the next month afterwards. WorldCon doesn't come to the UK often, so we're not missing our chance.

#
I've been tagged by Iain Rowan to do one of these meme entries. I'm not sure I'm going to be much good at it, because it's not really my area, but I'll give it a go.

1) Imagine it’s 2015. You are visiting the library at a major research university. You go over to a computer terminal (or whatever it is they use in 2015) that gives you immediate access to any book or journal article on any topic you want. What do you look up? In other words, what do you hope somebody will have written in the meantime?

Okay, screw journals. I don't read journals anymore. Book, then. Right. I'm going to science-fictionally assume that we'll have reached the stage of being able to resurrect the dead, and I'm going to bring back Frank Herbert so he can have finished his Dune series himself, properly. And hopefully he can be persuaded to take out an injunction banning Brian Herbert and Kevin Anderson from publishing any of their abominable, cheap, crappy Dune books.

2) What is the strangest thing you’ve ever heard or seen at a conference? No names, please. Refer to “Professor X” or “Ms. Y” if you must. Double credit if you were directly affected. Triple if you then said or did something equally weird.

Well, I haven't been to a conference for years. I hated conferences. Never went to the sessions if I could help it. I suspect I was in the wrong field. So I'm going to skip this one. Maybe I'll get something at WorldCon that I can use here. We'll see.

3) Name a writer, scholar or otherwise worthy person you admire so much that meeting him or her would probably reduce you to awestruck silence.

Hah! Who doesn't reduce me to awestruck silence? I'm not that great in face-to-face situations with people I don't know. Double that for people I admire. I was introduced to Richard Morgan at Eastercon and totally failed to say anything to him. He was nice, polite and all that, but I had no idea how to talk to him. Who would do it best for me at WorldCon? Maybe George Martin, if I meet him.

I'm going to tag Steph and Sarah Prineas to do this.
#
That'll do. I'm off to be healthily ill on the couch.