Poppy was perusing a local magazine last Monday as the two of us waited for Pete to finish his guitar lesson.

“Uh, Mama? This says our doctors office is closing,” she said, holding the magazine out to me. I took it from her and read over the ad, and indeed it was as she said.

“We are closing in Spring 2016,” it said. “Call us or email us so you can come get your records before we toss them into our Beltane bonfire.”

I may be paraphrasing a bit. I don’t know anything about Beltane. I doubt it’s associated with the destruction of pediatric medical files. But that was the gist of the message: Gather ye records while ye can.

So I called the office, but no one answered. I emailed the office, and no one answered. I called again several times over the course of the next few days. Sometimes it rang and rang into oblivion, other times it rang and then sounded a busy signal. Twice it sounded like an answering machine had picked up, but there was no message. Finally, after three days of calling, someone answered the phone on Thursday and said I could pick up the records on Monday — today — between 9am and 11am.

So naturally Pete has been sick since Friday night and we were supposed to get an ice storm overnight. We did not get an ice storm, but I still didn’t want to drag feverish, hacking Pete out in the cold. Someone actually answered this morning when I called to reschedule, which was nice. Hopefully the weather and our health will cooperate on Thursday, when we’re supposed to go pick up the records.

I’m not sure what happened that caused them to close up shop so abruptly, but I’m surprised that the only notification was a magazine ad. I would think an automated phone call or a letter to their patients would be a more efficient way to be sure you’ve reached everyone.

Writing this out, it occurs to me that the physician situation is probably contributing to the feeling of impending doom I’ve been having for several days now. That, and the fact that Pete was sick and Rockford was gone all week and was sick when he got home and I spent about seven hours over the course of two days at Poppy’s tae kwon do testing this weekend and Poppy’s twice-weekly soccer practices start up again this week, and I feel like I was and still am behind on everything.

For hours yesterday, especially, I felt like I was just about to topple over the edge into a panic attack. It eventually subsided after I went to the grocery store and came home and ate some pudding and read a book under my trusty blanket.

(“But Nichole,” you may be saying to your screen. “What about the yoga?” And I say to you that I don’t know, exactly, but I’ve been having a hard time turning down the static in my brain enough to focus on the yoga for the last several days. I’m still trying, though. Sometimes you need yoga, sometimes you need chocolate pudding.)

Speaking of the grocery store and awkward segues, here’s what we’re having for dinner this week:

Monday: Breakfast for dinner

Omelets and veggie sausages, most likely.

Tuesday: Hot ham and cheese sandwiches

Poppy will most likely forgo the ham.

Wednesday: Manicotti

I had ravioli on the menu, but frozen manicotti was BOGO when I got to the store. Manicotti it is.

Thursday: FreezerFest

We have a plethora of frozen proteins in the fridge, so it’ll be a Choose Your Own Adventure meal.

Friday: Pizza

Right now it looks like it might be warm enough to grill again by Friday, but I’m not holding my breath.

Looking for a less-neurotic menu plan? Start your search at OrgJunkie.