Get Better or Face Evisceration

I finally had a day where I felt like I hit my stride with this crazy schedule I have going. My energy is okay and things are in a upswing.

Thank goodness for the improvement, otherwise I would be fodder for the new fad of targeting and eviscerating patient bloggers who aren't sick in just the right way. Because that's what puts the care in medicine, amiright?

Like I need help finding that kind of abuse. I mean flame war. No, that's not right, umm, trolling? No wait, I mean coping with the stress of a really hard job, you guys, so all you complainers who don't like what's being said? Shut-up.

Or you're next.

Med Bloggers:Where patients are punch lines and on a really bad day? Punching bags with no privacy or dignity or compassion.

It's okay if patients get reamed by name so long as the med blogger is anonymous--right?

Once again, the patients don't make the rules. Or hold any power.

Why am I not surprised?

Internet imitates life.

Quick List

1. The toddler may graduate from PT soon-ish. Squeeeee!

This does not mean that the falls have stopped. I don't think they will, not any time soon. But we have seen progress in physical ability and control. Big picture? I can take her to a park and she actually plays. Before? She just stood there unless you took her by the hand because she didn't trust her body to be there for her.

We're going to take a break over Christmas and see if she regresses. OT will continue as she just started in July and has a ways to go still.


2. By the way? She'll be 4 tomorrow. *bawl* I don't know where the time goes.


3.I lined up 4 jobs to try and keep my schedule open for various therapy appointments for the toddler as well as to maintain flexibility for if I get sick (I'm still a little skittish.). What are the odds that all 4 would be a bust? For me, apparently 100%. Very frustrating. It breaks down like so:

1.Writing. Guess what? Great reviews from big review sites don't do sh*t for sales. However, I am building a 'brand' whatever the hell that is. Based on reviews of my work so far, an author is featuring my book in their newsletter for their fan base. There's all sorts of positive energy, but no actual cash. Screw the energy, I need the cash.

2.Tutoring. Students continue to not show up which means I don't get paid. The whole program is a waste of federal tax dollars. 1 student in 3 years actually finished the program. ONE. The rest drop out because their home environment and mental health are so unstable that reading and math are the least of their concerns.

3.School program coordinatorwhatsit. Another federal program, this time one with a great reputation. Funding is still pending (it will come, but who knows when) so start date has been pushed back three times.

4.Contract tech work. Ill-suited to my talents, which combined with sh*tty training? Disaster. I'm giving it a month and then I'm going to quit and possibly file some kind of complaint somewhere official. It's not a scam, but it's shady.

My preference would be full-time something, but I held off due to the toddler, my own wobbly recovery, and the fact we may be relocating for the hubby's job. Hopefully, we will hear more on that soon because the waiting is getting old.

EMIGRATION by Tony Hoagland

I first found this poem when dealing with infertility and ran across it again in my files the other day. What a great depiction of chronic illness.

Try being sick for a year,
then having that year turn into two,
until the memory of your health is like an island
going out of sight behind you

and you sail on in twilight,
with the sound of waves.
It's not a dream. You pass
through waiting rooms and clinics

until the very sky seems pharmaceutical,
and the faces of the doctors are your stars
whose smile or frown
means to hurry and get well

or die.
And because illness feels like punishment,
an enormous effort to be good
comes out of you--
like the good behavior of a child

desperate to appease
the invisible parents of this world,
And when that fails,
there is an orb of anger

rising like the sun above
the mind afraid of death,
and then a lake of grief, staining everything below,
and then a holding action of neurotic vigilance

and then a recitation of the history
of second chances
And the illusions keep on coming
and fading out, and coming on again

while your skin turns yellow from the medicine,
your ankles swell like dough above your shoes,
and you stop wanting to make love
because there is no love in you,

only a desire to be done.
But you're not done.
Your bags are packed
and you are travelling.

The Up Chuck Wagon

We managed the pumpkin patch. I hated every second of it.

I spent the hour long ride there battling the asthma and being so tired and weak, I actually searched my purse looking for steroids. Yes, I actually felt bad enough to justify steroids. However, I didn't have any, which was fortuitous as I did perk up by some miracle. For a while there, I thought I'd have to sit in the car the whole time.

But then the hay ride? Jostled my twitchy gut to the point of pain. I thought I was going to end up hurling over the side of the wagon. So feeling good didn't last too long.

The patch itself was hot, overcrowded and understaffed. Parents were ill-tempered and children ran wild. One mom kicked her son in anger. Yes kicked. Those of us who saw it, couldn't believe it. "Did she just kick her kid?" Yes, yes she did.

I saw the back side, the hubby saw the kid's face crumple and it was all very sad. I wish they had been close enough for me to say something. Because I would have. I am not the momma you abuse your kid in front of.

(And I wish I had gone after her, but she was a ways away and we were just stunned. By the time we all processed what we saw, she was gone.)

Then there was the 7/8ish-year-old girl so selfish she had to take toys from my 3-year-old. WTF? I explained to the girl how the toys worked in case she was confused--it was kind of a game and there were enough toys for everyone. When she snatched all the toys away from my toddler yet again, I told her she should've asked first.

She just looked at me like she was hearing that concept for the first time in her life, and then kept grabbing. So, of course, my kid is in tears. The other girl's mom was right there the whole time, but acted like she was blind, deaf, and dumb. I was starting to turn into Hulk the Momma Bear, which is not my best look.

So I pulled the toddler away and just told her that the girl was not nice and she shouldn't play with her. My 3 year old has better manners and I told her as much. She never once grabbed toys and she tried to share.

I hate those situations. Basically, it tells me I'm raising a kid who will always get screwed because she's doing the right thing. Based on the kids yesterday (and there were hundreds) it's Lord of the Flies anymore. From what I saw, manners just mean you get nothing but hurt.

Sigh.

Anyway, today, I feel better. Not as sick but I know if I exercise, I'll destroy what energy I do have and backslide. What does that mean? That I should take some steroids? Do I need a boost? Or should I stop exercising?

I'm confused. Things are not sustainable and haven't been for a few weeks now, but I don't know what to do about it. I don't think anyone else does either. Adrenal crap is the Mojave of medicine.

Maybe it's another adjustment period. I've gone from doing two things; parenting and exercising to adding a more than full workload. I am so busy, I often can't get to everything that needs to be done. I send frantic last minute emails dumping the responsibility for dinner on the hubby because I've run out of time. I'm sure I need a hell of a lot more cortisol than usual for that kind of schedule. Perhaps the HPAA system is lagging a bit?

Or it could be that the gut is a drain on the system. The pain is progressing in intensity. I had the anesthesia consult and need to call to set up the next round of endoscopy with ultrasound.

The thing I really hate is I trusted my body enough to make formal work commitments, but with the way it's been behaving lately, I am concerned that I'm going to end up letting a lot of people down. And losing income. Again.

Deja Vu

Hey,it's Fall. We're going to the pumpkin patch tomorrow.

Except I'm sick.

Hey, I was sick last year.

This year, the toddler is sick too.

So. Much. Fun. that I can't quite find the right swear word for it.

The gallbladder/gut kept me most of the night and that was all the opening the germs needed.

My gut hurts, the adrenals are acting like they are somehow relevant, the asthma has been activated and my sinuses are full of gunk.

You wish you could have this much fun in just one body, don't you? Come on. Admit it.

Well, come hell or high water or whatever medical mayhem ensues, we are going to the pumpkin patch tomorrow.

So there.

Sick with Benefits

The hubby got a bug up his butt about needing to replace the bathroom floor. Sometimes he gets ideas in his head and the only thing I can do is get out of the way. That and say yes to whatever he says because he's crazy until he gets it out of his system.

So now we have a new bathroom floor, whether we needed one is another metric entirely.

Of course, his knees hurt from all the physical labor and we had the following exchange.

Hubby: I need something. What can I take?

Me: How about some Motrin?

Hubby: How many can I take?

Me: Four.

Hubby: Thanks.

Me: See? There are some benefits to being married to someone who is 80 in health years.

Hubby: 80? I thought it was more like 100.

Weak Immune System ISO of Germs for Gang Bang

I am probably going to regret using a p 0 rn reference in my title, but it does pretty much sum things up. Remind me of that when this blog ranks #1 for some perverse s exual f etish.

(Been there. Done that.)

So, basically from Wed through Fri last week, my nose burned and itched like crazy. It was so sensitive that the toddler eating an apple about 10 feet away? Smelled like someone was shoving an apple coated in industrial apple scent chemicals deep into my sinuses. It rivaled pregnancy nose in sensitivity. The only thing that helped was cold medicine.

I kept waiting for the drippy nose to start, but it never did. Mostly I just felt like I was on the verge of cold, similar to the tenterhooks of a sneeze that just can't propel itself into maturity.

Same deal with the cold sores. The corners of my mouth burned, but the cold sores never actually erupted.

By Saturday the nose had resolved, but the fatigue lingered, heavy as a wet blanket. I wanted to exercise. Went so far as to put the shoes on only to end up in bed instead, thoughts of steroids dancing in my head. Sunday was better and I did work out.

Which means sneezing today and more cold sore burning. Clearly not working with a fully functional stress/immune response over here. I'm going to easy pickings for the first germ that hops on board, which is a scary thought.