Eden M. Kennedy has acted impulsively in ways she now regrets.

So I'm trying to decide whether I have multiple sclerosis or a brain tumor. My left arm is hanging uselessly at my side, my left leg flops embarrassingly when I try to walk, the left side of my face looks like a slow mudslide heading incrementally south, and every time Jack walks in I think, When did I marry Jim Nabors?

Actually, though, I do have some tingly, achy, slight-loss-of-dexterity symptoms, plus my mind's about as sharp as a bowling ball right now, but I haven't been to my doctor because last time -- oh, let's face it, every time I go to him he listens to my heart and pokes around a little and then says, Nothing's wrong, you're not having a heart attack, but if you want I'll get you a chest X-ray. And how about an echocardiogram? We'll take some blood while we're at it, too. Since you're an incredible hypochondriac, I'll bill your insurance for all the tests you want if it will make you feel better.

Which it does.

So I've got an appointment at 3:15.

Update: Went to lie down for a minute. Slept through appointment.

Why was Barry White on "A Baby Story" yesterday?

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