Posts Tagged ‘fever’

When You Lose

March 29, 2019

When you lose the one you love
You think your world has ended
You think your world will be a waste of life
Without them in it
You feel there’s no way to go on
Life is just a sad, sad song
But love is bigger than us all
The end is not the end at all

It’s not somethin’ you get over
But it’s somethin’ you get through
It’s not ours to be taken
It’s just a thing we get to do

Life goes on and on
And when it’s gone
It lives in someone new
It’s not somethin’ you get over
But it’s somethin’ you get through

It’s not somethin’ you get over
But it’s somethin’ you get through
It’s not ours to be taken
It’s just a thing we get to do

Life goes on and on
And when it’s gone
It lives in someone new
It’s not somethin’ you get over
But it’s somethin’ you get through
It’s not somethin’ you get over
But it’s somethin’ you get through

 

Well.

Willie Nelson hit that right on the fucking head.

I was at work tonight and in some pain, although not as much pain as I am in now.

Fuck.

This is not emotional pain either, this is me being sick, this is me not going to work in the morning, this is me in excruciating pain going to the doctor tomorrow.

My person and I just had a talk and he suggested I might even try urgent care.

But that feels like too much and it’s already 9:30pm.

I’m just going to muddle through.

I think I have shingles.

Or I should say, my boss thinks I have shingles and after talking to the doctor’s assistant at One Medical I probably do.

It’s awful.

I’ve not been in this kind of pain in sometime.

I have one small nickel size patch on my right hip that is red and has tiny little blisters all over it, I saw it yesterday after noon when I was wondering why my back and hip hurt so much and I thought it was a spider bite.  I noticed the blisters late afternoon today and showed my boss.

That is not what hurts the most, the little blistery spot, although I’ve yelped in pain a couple of times when my clothes have hit it funny.

No.

What is awful is the muscle pain in the right lower side of my back, if I hadn’t Googled the shit out of shingles I’d have thought something was wrong with my kidneys.  Apparently the muscle ache is the worst and people go to the ER thinking kidneys.

And I started running a fever about a half hour ago.

Fuck.

So this is a short blog.

Just enough to say that hearing the Willie Nelson song at work, and I have never, ever heard it before (the dad was playing it as I got the family set up for dinner) and it hit me so damn hard.

I won’t get over you baby, but I’ll get through.

I’ve had my heart-broken and there’s no getting over you because you were the love of my life.

But.

I’ll get through.

And if I can get through losing you.

I can fucking get through anything.

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Ready to Fly

February 15, 2019

I’m at work.

The baby is sleeping.

The rain is falling.

The dad is home sick.

It’s Friday.

I have one client after work tonight then…

Three day weekend!

I’m so ready to be done.

I’m flying out tonight on a red-eye to D.C. to spend time with my best friend in Georgetown.

I do find it rather funny actually that I’m going to be there over President’s Day weekend.

Just sort of how it worked out.

Originally I was supposed to go before school started, but our schedules just did not sync up.

So.

Here I am officially into the month of February getting ready to jettison off for a much-needed mini-holiday.

And!

I’m done with my homework.

In fact, I am a touch a head of it.

I have been assiduously reading, writing, posting discussion posts, responding to discussion posts, et al.

I’ve actually finished the reader completely for one of my classes.

This is not to say that there isn’t work to do.

I’m in a fucking PhD program, there is always going to be work to do.

In fact, I’m sure my guilty student self-will arise any moment now and say something like, “you could pre-read for your other two classes too.”

But the fact is.

I need a break.

And sometimes that is just as important to acknowledge as it is to budget time to do the homework.

It’s been, well, stressful isn’t the right word exactly, but challenging at work this week.

The dad has been home sick every day.

EVERY DAY.

The whole family has gotten sick, and I as well, although not to the extent or severity of the baby or the papa.

For this I am so lucky.

Very happy.

Very grateful.

I caught it last week Thursday, tried to pretend I didn’t have it, had it land pretty solid Friday, spiked a fever while at my office seeing clients on Saturday.

Fortunate for me I had some clients cancel and no-show and I was able to chill out in my office after seeing two clients.

That actually helped me a lot in my advancement through my homework this week.

I wrote a paper and did a bunch of reading.

I wrote another paper on Sunday.

And then have read and posted discussions all week.

I’m just about past the point of feeling awkward with the dad around.

But, yes challenging.

I find I do as much work as I possibly can, but you know, I’m extremely efficient and Fridays the family traditionally orders in food, so I have no food prep or dinner planning to do.

The house is spotless.

I can’t access laundry since it’s next to the sleeping baby.

So I’ve done my homework and then realized, good lord, I still have another half hour or so of not having anything to do.

Somehow sitting on the couch trolling Instagram seems like a bad idea.

I figured if I was writing, it would at least look like I’m working on something.

Dad doesn’t need to know I’m writing my blog.

Plus.

Since I’m flying a red-eye tonight I am going to try to sleep on the plane rather than do homework.

Maybe, ooh, I could even watch a movie.

Ah.

That would be nice.

I do know that I will be happy to hit DC running, my friend will pick me up at the airport, drive me into town and then we’re going to do breakfast, coffee, and doing that infamous deal at a clubhouse near DuPont Circle.

After that I am checking into an Air BnB in Georgetown.

That I was happily given access to for early check in.

Super grateful for that.

Originally the check in was listed for 3p.m.

But I asked if it was possible to get in early and I got a sweet affirmative response last night.

So.

Napping.

And.

Napping in front of a working fireplace.

Yes.

I won’t nap too long, there’s only so much time I get with my friend.

I think we might do a fancy pants dinner out somewhere that evening and then Sunday really just hang out and walk around Georgetown, hit some cafes, grab lunch somewhere, maybe do some shopping.

You know, girl stuff.

And I fly back super early on Monday.

So early that I actually will have most of Monday available to me for life stuff that needs to be done.

I have to drop my car off for some maintenance and I’m hoping to get all my laundry done.

So.

Here’s to there only being two and a half hours left of my work day, one client, and a quick drive home to pick up my suitcase and travel bag.

I’m already packed.

All I have to do is remembered to bring my power cords for my computer and my phone.

God only knows l will likely check into my school work at least once.

Maybe twice.

I’m too paranoid about falling behind to not do that.

But really.

I do hope to take it easy and let myself gently off the hook.

I feel really good at where I am currently in this semester of work.

Sure.

That could change the next week.

But for now.

Well.

Here’s to a three-day weekend!

 

Happy

May 26, 2018

It struck me as I was folding clothes and looking at my nice clean studio.

I’m happy.

I’m really happy.

My Master’s program is complete and I have graduated.

I made it through the week unscathed.

I had a light client load.

Two cancellations tonight meant I got to go to the Inner Sunset and do the deal and run into folks I haven’t seen in a while and get my head on straight.

My boss gave me flowers for all the extra help I did this week.

And honestly, it didn’t feel like it was all that extra, but I do not mind at all being appreciated.

I love flowers.

I wrote out thank you notes to the folks that gave me graduation presents and stuck them in the mail.

I did laundry.

I went grocery shopping.

I signed up for two yoga classes this weekend.

I have plans to hang out with my best friend this weekend.

Life is really good.

I feel so content right now.

Very full of gratitude.

I even have a course of action for the reflux.

I went to the GI this week to do a follow-up with him from the endoscopy I had last week, as well as the results from the swallow test and the Ph wire test.

Never, ever, ever want to do that wire test again.

NEVER.

Gah.

It was bad.

Anyway.

Yes, I have reflux, but not apparently as bad as I think it is, I know that sounds weird, but the levels of reflux the test came back with were low.

I don’t have ulcers.

I don’t have cancer.

I didn’t have any damage to my esophagus.

I have a small hiatal hernia, which can cause some reflux.

But.

What the GI told me was that he suspects I got an infection months ago that damaged the nerves in my esophagus.

So a course of medication has been prescribed and I take three of the tiniest pills I have ever seen at night before bed as they may cause drowsiness.

I checked and double checked that the pills were non-habit forming or narcotic, and got great big negatives to the question.

They will, however, take some time to kick in.

And get this.

It’s an anti-depressant!

How freaking weird is that?

However, the dosage I’m taking is super small, wouldn’t affect mood at the dose I’m taking it and it isn’t very often used any more for depression as there are apparently more medications out there that work better.

But.

It also happens to work on the reflux.

According to Wikipedia: Desipramine at very low doses is also used to help reduce the pain associated with functional dyspepsia.

Reflux, ulcers, gastroenteritis.

Which is what the GI said I had, there was evidence of gastroenteritis from the endoscopy, infection of the stomach, symptoms are flu-like, including diarrhea, fever, chills, abdominal pain.

I know exactly when this happened.

It caught me way off guard and I had woken up in the middle of the night with a fever, cramps, bad, bad, bad diarrhea, I was hot and cold and it was horrendous.

I thought I had food poisoning.

It might have been, but this makes more sense.

Especially since the reflux seemed to kick in a little after that incident.

Anyway.

The GI said what happens is the nerves in the esophagus get damaged and then everything is more sensitive.

So.

The low dosage of Desipramine is supposed to lessen the pain and also help the nerves regenerate and heal.

Fingers crossed.

I so much want to be back to normal.

I have had light reflux the last few days, but nothing full-blown.

I have a touch right now.

But I am hopeful that it will pass.

I have signed up for a yoga class tomorrow morning and also one for Sunday morning.

I am ready to get back into it.

Albeit nervous.

It’s been a couple of months and my attendance prior to that was thin as I was so busy with school and any time I had bad reflux I was skipping.

I am hopeful that this solution will work out and that I will feel better.

I am super freaking grateful that there was no damage to my esophagus, no cancer, no ulcers.

I have faith that my body will repair and regenerate.

And I also hope that after a three-month course of the medication I can be clear of it.

I am a touch leery of some of the side affects, which seem to be mostly from using it in much higher doses for depression, but still, I don’t like taking stuff, it makes me a little nervous.

Then again.

I have hated being in the pain I have been in.

I’m very grateful to have addressed it and thankful that there is something that I can do.

So all in all.

Content.

Serene.

And yes.

Happy.

Even joyous.

And most definitely.

Free.

 

Big Days

May 4, 2018

It’s been an intense couple of days.

I will not lie.

I have had the reflux really bad.

Horrible.

I couldn’t write last night, I debated writing tonight.

But i just ate and that seems to help.

Until it doesn’t.

I went to the new GI yesterday.

Good news.

He believes that the reflux is not caused by something I’m eating.

Which is fantastic because if it was I’d be seriously fucked.

I had the reflux today so bad today it was extraordinary.

And the foods that “caused” it would be oatmeal with an apple and blueberries, 1 hard-boiled egg, an almond milk latte (breakfast) and a large salad at lunch with a sm pear and a small banana that I chopped up and put cinnamon, nutmeg, and sea salt on.

And I was on fire.

All damn day.

I woke up with a tiny bit of a reprieve but the minute I drank a glass of water, water people, I began to get lit up.

Usually it doesn’t start so damn soon, usually I have at least until lunch time, but no, it fucking flared right up.

That week or so, that eight days, I think, maybe nine, when I didn’t have it is like a ghost of a dream, I cannot even fathom what that was like I have been in such pain.

So.

Yeah.

Almost not writing.

But I miss the writing and I think it helps me to process out all the days crap and how I feel like crap, just writing about it, I know it helps.

It makes my brain feel better, even if the rest of me doesn’t.

Besides, there’s a lot to write about too, the GI like I said, great appointment.

Super nice doctor much better experience than the previous GI, did a really in-depth work up and said the thing that I had been waiting for, the aforementioned, I don’t think it’s what your eating.

He told me the reason for this was the Omperazole I was taking wasn’t affecting it, even when I doubled the dose, it should have worked, but it did nothing for me.

Four fucking months of nothing for me.

Anyway.

Thank God he listened to me and after describing my symptoms he wants to do the endoscopy and a ph test and a wire test.

Apparently a wire gets inserted through the nose, down the esophagus and into the stomach and it measures the reflux.

It sounds freaky as fuck, but whatever, I just want to deal with the issue.

I can’t continue being in this kind of pain.

It’s untenable.

I’m waiting to hear back from the doctor’s office, he said they would call to set up a time for me to go in.

I was rather thinking I would get the call today and was a bit disappointed, especially as the day went on and the reflux got worse, that I never got one.

If I don’t hear back tomorrow by lunch time I’ll call the office myself.

I’m not sitting around and waiting.

Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day too.

First day of my last weekend of class!

Last weekend of class!

I could just write that five times more it makes me so happy to see those words.

Last weekend of class!

I’m really ready to be done, and it’s probably also because I’m in pain and it’s hard to focus on things when I’m in pain.

Thank fucking God I didn’t have the reflux while I was working on my papers.

Ugh.

That would have been hell.

It’s been hard enough to stay present with my clients.

Tonight was rough.

I actually did something I don’t normally do, I sipped water the entire time through my sessions.

I needed to keep my throat lubricated and the water was also a brief, and I do mean brief, respite from the acid in my throat and nose.

I got a pretty splendid headache by the end of the sessions and I think I was running a fever again.

Anyway.

Not complaining.

It is what it is and I’m going to be seen again and have the procedures done and something will come out of that, I will get relief, it will be figured out.

All I have to do tomorrow is show up.

I decided to take my car since I have clients after class and it’s gotten really cold the last few nights.

Hello spring.

Hello early summer fog.

The fog!

I watched it tumble in again tonight as the sun was going down in my office and it was cold when I left.

I was planning on taking my scooter, but the weather looks the same and if I feel like crap again I would rather be in my car than on my scooter on a cold foggy night after seeing clients and having a big day at school.

So.

Taking the car and biting the cost of parking and saying fuck it, I’m worth being comfortable and warm.

I have more to say, I had some exciting news yesterday, but I think I’ll save that for tomorrow.

I’m pretty worn down and I need rest.

It’s going to be a big weekend.

See you on the flip.

Bruised

October 1, 2017

But not broken.

And I have to admit, a bit chagrined, but fuck it, overall, very happy with what went down at the dentist today, despite feeling like the girl who cried wolf.

“Bite down, bite down, and bite down, pain?” Asked my dentist.

“Nope,” I shook my head, and every time he poked the tooth that has been bothering me, I felt like cringing because I was expecting it to be painful, I mean, have you seen the pokey tools a dentist uses?

I was not expecting just pain either, I was expecting excruciating pain.

After I went to bed last night, feeling a little bit high from the fever I was running, I figured I better get a good nights sleep and let myself sleep a little longer than I would have since I figured I was going to have either no breakfast or a very light breakfast.

I was preparing myself for having to get surgery.

I really was.

“What about here?  Any pain?” My dentist continued prodding my tooth.

NOTHING.

I really felt abashed.

“No,” I told him, “I can’t describe it, but it hurts so much when it happens, but not necessarily when I chew or bite down, although it does happen that way sometimes, it just surprises me with it, it feels like a knife being slipped into my tooth.”

A long skinny sharp knife.

And.

Hello.

I’m running a fever again, by the way, but I just took some antibiotics, so hopefully that will burn out in a little while.

He took three different sets of x-rays.

And nothing, no cavities, nothing.

I thought maybe I had a cracked tooth, but nope, the dentist told me, “that’s a natural part of your tooth, you’ve probably had that since you were six and it wasn’t really apparent until we did the deep clean, you just never noticed it before.”

“You do have an infection in your lymph node,” he said, I had pointed out the fever and the swelling along my jaw line, “but I don’t think that’s associated with the tooth, that’s something else, so I’ll write you up a script for antibiotics, as for the tooth, well, it’s probably bruised, so be careful chewing anything tough and give it a few weeks.  If you’re still experiencing pain, call us and we’ll see you again.”

And that was it.

Well.

That was almost it.

“Since you’re here, we’ll do a cleaning,” and he did and I walked out of the office feeling light as a bird feather and happy and it was sunny and the ocean was blue and my god, life is good.

I really though I was going to get a t root canal today.

In fact, the dentist told me that was what he was expecting to do with me when he heard what my symptoms are.

Man.

Fevers are super weird.

My face is so hot right now, even my ears are hot.

I don’t have strep, no sore throat, and I checked my tonsils last night and I don’t have tonsillitis and I don’t have mono, I’ve got too much energy for that.

Nor do I have an ear ache, and well, I have no idea what the infection is about, but it’s there.

My dentist just told me to make sure I did the entire course of the antibiotics and I have to take them four times a day, so they’ll be coming with me to work and my internship.

I don’t mind, I’m just so glad that I don’t have any issues with my teeth.

I did miss the yoga class I had signed up for, but whatever.

I just let the day happen after I left my dentist.

Talked to my best friend and my person back to back and let them know I was in the clear.

I went and did a little grocery shopping.

Came back home and had a latte and wrote for about a half hour and then went and got a pedicure.

Man it felt nice.

It felt like a day off.

Even though I still had to go to my group supervision, but it was chill.

I had a salad for lunch and a white peach and listened to the folks in my group check in about their clients.

I day dreamed a bit.

I admit it.

And when supervision let out I let myself go shopping.

I hit Nordstrom’s Rack and scored.

It took time, it’s always hit or miss with me and Nordie’s Rack.

Sometimes I get great things.

Sometimes I spend three hours wandering around and leave with a pair of socks.

Today was more fruitful and I am very happy with my haul.

Two pretty bras and pairs of panties.

Two pairs of very nice high-end jeans, Paige Brand, one in super dark denim and the other in black, both skinny and form-fitting, and my God, my ass looks good in them.

Just saying.

A super chic white cotton button up.

And a sharp as fuck black blazer.

I scored.

I also spent my clothing allowance for the month.

But that’s alright.

I don’t have a lot of time on my hands to go shopping anyway, so to do it all in one fell swoop was fine.

Especially since what I got are all staples.

I will admit I was looking for a pretty dress, I’m always on the look out for a pretty dress, but the jeans and white cotton shirt combo and the blazer, well, I can wear them as my therapist outfit and for going out.

I don’t know that I want to wear the white shirt to work, the baby is now eating solid foods, I can just see it getting splattered with pureed sweet potato.

But.

Really I can interweave all the clothes I got today into my wardrobe in a very cohesive way.

Then I went and saw my fellows over in the NOPA and damn, it was good.

And.

Then.

Home.

A nice bit of roast chicken, some brown rice, clipping all the tags off my clothes, and putting my things away.

I added my hours to Track My Hours.

Bringing me up 10 184.25.

Only 2,815.75 to good.

Ha.

Vomit.

Anyway.

One little day at a time.

That’s all I got and today.

Well.

It was, despite my worst fears, a really damn good day.

Yes.

Really.

It was.

OUCHY

September 30, 2017

Ouch.

Damn it.

Fucking to all hell.

I have a tooth ache.

And.

Yes.

I suspect.

An infection.

Currently running a fever, experiencing some tenderness and swelling on the right side of my face.

The fever is recent.

Started about half hour, 45 minutes ago.

The swelling is also new.

But I suspect that the infection, because that’s what I think it is, started in the last day or two.

I have had some tooth pain, sharp, unexpected, piercing pain, on and off for a couple of weeks.

But nothing like this.

Nothing where I am gasping out loud when it hits.

I almost did so with a client tonight.

Thank God I only had one client.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty punked by the end of the day and I thought, though the tooth was hurting a bit, I just thought, I’m tired, it’s been a long week, I’m not feeling great, and I cancelled my 7:30p.m.

But today.

I woke up and everything was fine.

Until about 3:30p.m. maybe four p.m.

Then I started to feel weird and a couple of times on the walk up the hill on Chenery Street I had a quick, fast, stabbing, piercing, white hot siren of pain in my tooth.

When I got back to the house with my charges I took some ibuprofen and I called my dentist.

I had an appointment in early November, I think somewhere in the back of my head that I thought I could make it until then, grin and bear it so to speak, but after the walk up the hill and realizing that once again I felt exhausted and the idea of going to my friends birthday dinner and dance party made me want to cry, that something was seriously wrong.

My god.

I am fucking burning up.

Fevers are weird.

Anyway.

I called and the receptionist said they could see me on Wednesday at 2 p.m.

I took the appointment and when the mom got home I told her and when I was telling her I could feel tears, OUCH! OUCH! Oof, sorry, yikes, tooth said hello, in my eyes.

That is a huge sign for me.

I have learned that I am sick not necessarily from actually acknowledging the symptoms, but from being in enough pain that it solicits tears.

Then.

Well, then I know.

And that took me years to learn.

I got used to turning off the pain receptors, ignoring them, not letting myself feel the pain, emotional or physical, a long, long, long time ago.

It was not safe to express pain.

It was not safe to be vulnerable.

Not at all.

Never.

Never.

Never.

I got used to toughing it out without realizing I was toughing it out.

I recall being 17 years old and having gotten really sick, so sick that I was walking around the house in a nightgown hallucinating and in so much pain I could barely talk, the back of my throat was on fire and coated with white mucus and my tonsils were so big I could barely breathe.

I called my mom at work and she couldn’t come to get me, she couldn’t leave work.

I called in sick to my debate team, we had a meet that next morning.

It was the only one we lost that year and boy howdy did I never hear the freaking end of it, but hey, I was in the emergency room by that point, so whatever.

I don’t remember much of what happened.

Except that the doctor yelled, I mean, yelled, at my mom for not bringing me in sooner.

I overheard, “she could have died,” and drowned the rest of it out.

Severe tonsillitis and strep and yes, wait for it, MONO.

How the fuck I caught the kissing disease is beyond me, but I had the trifecta.

The doctors didn’t want to do a tonsillectomy because they felt I was too old, it was too risky.

They pumped me full of antibiotics and I think I slept a lot for a few days.

I was back at school Monday though, to hear all about how I had let down the team.

The funny thing.

I can remember a lot of, what to me were wonderful things, about that Saturday afternoon after we left the hospital.

My mom took us, to the Willy Street market and bought crab salad and croissants, they were a day old, but fuck, they were croissants.

And ice cream.

And she was really nice to me.

I remember the way that crab salad sandwich tasted and the bowl of ice cream, butter pecan, and falling asleep on the couch.

It was wonderful.

How crazy is that, that one of my fondest memories is of being terrifically sick.

Anyway.

I wasn’t allowed to feel sick or be sick or act sick, or sad or angry, or any emotions really.

Maybe happy was allowed.

I don’t recall.

So today I was pretty impressed with myself, even though, yes, it could be argued that I should have called in a few days ago.

Should, would, could.

Ways to beat myself up that right now I prefer to not do.

Instead.

I will celebrate the fact that I listened to someone admonish me to take care of myself and I heard my boss in my head saying, “call in the mornings, every morning and see if there are any cancellations.”

Because when I got off the phone with my best friend I felt the fever tick up a notch and I could feel an intense hotness in my cheek starting.

I called my dentist.

8:45 p.m. on a Friday.

Expecting to leave a message and hope that someone would cancel and they would call me in.

Except.

Holy shit!

Someone answered.

My dentist has an answering service!

After listening to what I said and pulling up my chart she said come in tomorrow at 9 a.m.

There’s already an appointment, but she’d make sure that the dentist would see me, it meant double booking and it means I might have to wait, but better to wait in the office and be ready to go than wait until Wednesday.

Because frankly.

I am not going to make it until Wednesday.

Super freaking grateful I know to take suggestions.

So grateful.

I won’t be going to yoga in the morning.

Nope.

I’m going to the dentist.

Wish me luck.

I am a little scared.

Just a little.

Ok.

A lot.

I am a lot scared.

And that’s ok.

I’m going anyway.

I will be taken care of.

I always am.

Fever State

July 17, 2017

I was sick last night.

I am still not quite myself.

Broken.

Softened.

Slowed down.

Slightly maudlin.

How I can get when I am sick and what I use as a cue to my brain that my body is actually quite sick is how easily sad I can become when ill.

I had to surrender to it though.

There was no going to yoga today.

There was no reading with a lady today at my tiny kitchen table.

There were no walks on the beach.

There was some sitting in the sunshine, for which I am grateful for, although it took a while for me to even get to the back porch outside my little studio door.

I wasn’t even sure I was going to write this blog, but I wanted to infuse a little touch of normalcy into my day.

I haven’t had the same high fever I had last night, but I have had passing flushes of it and small chills, then it would pass, sitting in the sunlight was good for keeping warm and also for getting me into the fresh air.

I did not leave the house today.

I am not often sick and I am infrequently, and I do mean infrequently, tummy sick.

I don’t know if it was food poisoning.

Or stomach flu.

I can say I ate oysters on Friday and I had sushi yesterday, so there’s that possibility.

I can also say I may have been exposed to a flu bug at work but that was weeks ago and I don’t know that it was flu.

I do know I went to bed at my normal time and that I had signed up to take yoga this morning.

And I had a hard time falling asleep.

I couldn’t get comfortable, my thoughts were racing and I was cold.

That should have clued me in, but I just thought well, San Francisco summer time, it must be chillier outside than I recalled when going to bed.

But as I tossed and turned something changed.

I got really cold.

Uncontrollably cold.

I started to shiver.

I was on the cusp of sleep and didn’t recognize at first what was happening.

I tried to turn over and stretch and my body cramped up.

I couldn’t stretch out, I was too cold, it was furious this coldness, my skin, my muscles, everything horrid and tight and sore and achy and then hot, so hot, but not hot enough, I was so awful cold.

My stomach got crampy.

Shit.

I am going to throw up.

I realized that I haven’t thrown up in a while.

Like nine years?

Eight.

Last time I threw up I was living on Capp and 23rd and nanny for a couple of my sweet bunnies up in Potrero Hill, it was just after New Years and the parents had loads of leftover food from the party and the mom said have at it.

I ate some meatballs.

They were good and I didn’t think much of it, until a little later when I was vomiting so hard I was crying to die or for my mother to rescue me.

That’s always a very good indication that I am ill, I want my mom.

But I could recognize that feeling.

Then.

OH.

Oh no.

It’s not just wanting to throw up.

I could feel my tummy rebelling at everything.

But I was so fucking cold I couldn’t get out of bed to use the bathroom.

I mean.

I did or I would have had a horrendous mess to clean up.

But it was awful.

Naked.

Shivering.

Crying.

I ran back and forth from bed to bathroom five times.

At one point I had made it to the kitchen to get a bowl to put my bed in case I were to throw up as well, I mean, might as well make it a party.

Or the thoughts careening through my head that I should have grabbed the wastebasket too and put it by the toilet, but if all else failed I could grab towel from the rack and vomit on that and throw it away.

Fun times.

The fever was high and I thought for a moment I might need to call for a car and go to urgent care, but the thought of going out in the cold was too much and I just crawled back into bed and toughed it out.

My fever broke this morning around 4 a.m.

I felt pretty delirious the whole time and so sore from my body cramping and the shaking trying to get warm.  I don’t remember much just that I suddenly didn’t feel like vomiting any more and that maybe I could fall asleep.

I remember looking at my phone to see what time it was.

4:04 a.m.

Then falling asleep.

Waking up around 7 a.m. and messaging the woman I was supposed to meet with and saying I had to cancel.

Falling in and out of sleep.

Talking with a dear friend for part of it and silent tears leaking down my face, so not good at being sick.

Then slipping back into sleep and yes.

Sleeping until 2p.m.

I might have awoken sooner, but something is off with my phone, sometimes it rings and sometimes it doesn’t and my text tones aren’t chiming when I get a text.

I had my phone on and I had received texts, but my phone wasn’t alerting me even though I had the volume on.

So.

I slept.

And it was good.

I mean.

I still spent most of the day soft and woozy and quiet.

I managed oatmeal and I had some coffee, I know it’s not great for my tummy, but the caffeine head ache wasn’t helping either.

There I was at 3:30p.m. having “breakfast.”

I did manage a hot shower and hair wash, and that was one of the times I had a bit of a fever again, but no more tummy issues, I have curly hair again, by the way, the blow out is gone, but I spent most of the day really lying quite low.

I wasn’t a hero.

I was soft and mushy.

That’s for sure.

Vulnerable.

I felt like my underbelly was a little exposed and tender and I just kept quiet and read my book, and was happy that there was sun and not too upset if the neighbors noticed I was in my pajamas all day.

At least it was a pretty vintage nightgown.

And so.

Yup.

That was my day.

Not too exciting.

Hopefully I will awaken and be clear of it all.

I have my supervisor in the morning, a date with a girlfriend to the MOMA after, a client at 6:30p.m.

I have not cancelled anything, and unless I’m puking blood later I won’t cancel my supervision.

But if I’m still feeling low I’ll cancel the museum and rest before seeing my client in the evening.

Too soon to tell.

Just going to curl up and have a little tea and see if I can sleep the rest of it off.

Until tomorrow.

Sweetest slumber.

 

 

 

Out Damn Spot

December 30, 2016

So.

I pretty much stayed in all day.

I did get out for a little while early this afternoon.

But for the most part.

All day inside.

I’m not the greatest at being sick, but I’m willing to call it uncle at this point.

I’m not real sure what’s going on, but I realize I have been sick now for ten days.

I know pretty much the day it started, either on my birthday or on the Monday just thereafter.

I recall not wanting at all to go out with the family and celebrate my birthday with them.

I was running a fever.

I got pretty chilled on my birthday and I know one of the people there mentioned that he wasn’t feeling well, I also know that despite it being my birthday I really didn’t have too much of a problem just coming home and chilling out the rest of the day.

I worked through the cold.

I got through the sads of saying goodbye to the boys.

I made it through a solitary Christmas.

I made plans to do things and get out.

But I have to say that every day this week it’s been harder and harder to get myself out, to do things, to go grocery shopping, to make the deal.

I almost didn’t go out last night to do the deal, but I had gotten a telephone call so I went, and it’s in the hood, up the street a block and a half.

I have something.

I find it annoying.

I dislike being sick.

It feels frivolous.

I know that’s not exactly a mind state that’s helpful to me when I get sick as I sort of shove it back and down.

I figured I was over the cold though, I really did, but it just has stayed and stayed and stayed.

A couple of times I have felt better, went to yoga, got out did a few things, but today after my early afternoon outing I realized when I was leaving on my scooter that I really needed to be at home today.

I had all sorts of ideas and none of them sounded good.

I had my camera with me.

The light was beautiful today.

It makes me a little sad that I missed all the pretty light.

Another indication of sickness, I cry easily when I am sick, leaky little tears, it’s like my heart is trying to send some message to my overwrought, over heated brain, you’re sick, see, you’re crying over nothing, you’re crying because you missed taking your camera out and catching all the pretty light.

But right now, that feels very honest.

I am sad.

I think that’s what does me in the most about being sick, the things that I don’t get to do, even just my normal routine has gotten warped and weird and yes, I do know to be grateful for this time off in between jobs, lucky me, I’m off and I’m ill.

Whoopee.

It may also explain why the massage was wonderful and horrible at the same time.

I needed to get my muscles worked out but I kept getting chilled.

I was probably running a fever.

Low grade fevers for me are hard to recognize, but I do know I’ve been extra chilled all week, I know it’s been cold, but I feel like I’ve been extra sensitive.

Ugh.

And it’s about the only time when I wish, really hard, and then I do know that I am sick, that someone would hold me.

It’s too easy to slide into self-pity when I’m sick and that’s an indication that I’m sick, self-pity.

Erg.

I’m not usually morose about being alone.

Gack.

Anyway.

Today, aside from the sick, was pretty damn nice.

I met with the mom whom I will begin work for on Monday.

We signed the contract, went over the background check, did the little stuff, crossed the t’s dotted the i’s.

I’ll be starting at 9 a.m. on Monday.

Mom may or may not be pregnant.

She’s due tomorrow.

She looked amazing, tired, but good, and we had just a great chat and both she and the oldest have also been sick, it’s going around.

 

Aside.

You know what’s the worst thing about crying while you blog?

Tear splatter on your glasses.

Just going to take a moment and deal with that.

End aside.

 

We talked for about an hour, maybe an hour and fifteen minutes, philosophy, education, emotional rearing, her culture (the family is European and I won’t say much past that as I also signed a confidentiality agreement), the family dynamics and the addition of the new baby.

I feel really grateful to have gotten connected to them, we do seem a great fit, ideologies are similar if not quite the same, I’m sure there will be snags and hiccups and getting used to things, but I’m excited to start the job.

I also realized when I left that I should just go home.

Rest.

Kick this bug in the butt.

Let it out of my system.

It’s all tight in my chest, achy and surreal.

I’ve no cough and I keep thinking I’m going to have one, but I don’t.

And the pain is tightness, but not stabbing, it’s deal-able.

I’m dealing is what I’m saying.

And I’m super hydrated, tea, tea, tea and more tea, and I ate nice warming food today and just lounged about the house.

I finished reading Irvine Welsh’s The Bedroom Secrets of Master Chefs.

I watched a bunch of the OA.

Amazing show.

So sweet.

Just loved how they ended it, super powerful acting and storyline.

I won’t be a spoiler.

I just thought they did a superlative job.

I’ll probably go to bed early tonight and skip yoga and rest.

I’ve an appointment downtown at 1:30p.m.

That’s it.

And it’s to sit in a chair for a long time and flip through magazines while I get my hair done.

So.

I can handle this cold.

See.

I’m already feeling better, I pep talk myself quite well.

A little more tea and then tuck myself in for the evening.

Grateful, truly for the time off from work and for the opportunity to rest and heal so that when the next job begins I will be ready.

I will be.

I swear.

 

My Toes Are Hot

November 6, 2015

I was about to text my friend this message last night as I rolled around underneath the covers on my bed.

I had a fever yesterday.

I am rarely sick.

But I got smacked with it yesterday afternoon.

I had chalked it up to being up really early for work and not getting a lot of sleep the night before.

However.

By the time I was sitting in a cafe after work doing some writing before my next set of commitments, I knew something was wrong.

I felt flush.

Hot.

Light headed.

And.

I knew that I was sick.

Not so much because I am great at diagnosing myself.

I certainly am not.

But.

Because the boys I nanny for all week have had low-grade fevers and coughs.

I have no cough.

Thank God.

Nor the constant runny, drippy nose the boys had.

But I certainly was feverish.

I couldn’t also fathom how the hell I was going to get through the next two and a half hours before I had to be where I was going to next.

I couldn’t imagine hanging in there that long.

That is my clue that I am sick.

I have a big, imaginative, fully functioning brain.

I can keep a lot of stuff juggling about in my head and I am great at living in the future.

My thoughts proceed me.

Yes, yes, they do.

But when I am sick I have trouble seeing past the next five minutes.

All I could imagine was going home and having a bowl of oatmeal for dinner.

That too, is a tip-off.

I couldn’t imagine riding my bike home either, even though it’s a bike ride I do frequently.

I called a friend and asked for help.

Revolution is upon the land!

I asked for help.

Unusual for me.

But I knew I needed it.

My friend picked me up, tossed my bike in the back of his truck, gave me a hesitant hug and said, “you look yellow.”

Thanks man.

Now I feel really sexy.

Hot and yellow.

Blech.

He felt my forehead, “you have a fever.”

Yup.

I do.

I did.

He got me home and helped me get my bike in and said get into bed, sleep, don’t blog, rest.

I did just about that.

I made a bowl of oatmeal, my form of comfort food, and crawled under a comforter on my bed.

I watched a video for a minute.

I struggled with myself about sleeping.

And then just gave in as I was unable to focus on anything.

I curled up under the throw blanket on my bed wearing tights, long socks, and a flannel shirt.

That should be clue number 84 that I’m sick.

Way too much clothing.

I meandered in and out of sleep.

Having fever dreams about Paris and what I was going to do and where I was going to go and I drifted off.

I drifted back in when my housemate’s daughter came home and was singing in her room.

Then back out.

My friend texted me to see how I was and sad, “go to sleep.”

I did that.

The fever broke around midnight.

I got up did a few things.

I was wide awake.

I contemplated writing my blog, but knew the best thing was to get more rest.

I threw a load of laundry in the wash and puttered about then got back into bed.

I woke up this morning bright and alive and no fever.

Yay!

Especially yay since in about an hour I will be at the Scooter Centre down town to buy my new Buddy!

I confirmed the quote from my insurance agent this morning, coordinated with my friend who’s helping me out, and int a few minutes I will be leaving to hop on the train and take it down town to the shop.

I’ll be mobile shortly.

I am nervous.

I won’t say I’m not.

It’s been a minute since I have been on a scooter and the last few times it felt really harrowing as my former scooter was so unsafe, far more unsafe than I had any idea, but I also am grateful that I have had the time and space to prepare for this next adventure.

And.

The money.

It feels really good to know that I will be paying for the whole thing in cash, no financing, no monkeying around.

Straight up done deal.

I will own it outright and I won’t have to make payments.

The blessings of having a savings account and putting a little aside every paycheck.

It eventually adds up.

Sure.

I wanted the new scooter six, seven months ago when I took the knock off Vespa in to get repaired and had my heart-broken that I had been duped into buying a lemon.

But.

I didn’t like that I was going to have to finance it.

And when I got turned down for financing–I haven’t had or used a credit card in over ten years, so there was no history affiliated with me being a consumer despite my credit score being high, I was relieved.

I will save the money.

It will take a while.

That is ok.

Of course.

The $1,000 check for the poetry pushed me over the edge and now, a month sooner than I was predicting, I am getting my new ride.

Nervous.

Sure.

But excited.

Yes.

And soon.

I will be scooting around town again.

This time on a safe, new, fully warranted vehicle.

I am so pleased to be doing this like an adult.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.

Vroom!

Vroom!

I Did Not Just Say That!

September 14, 2015

Oh.

Jesus on a raft.

I did too.

I am tired.

And.

When I am tired two things happen: 1. my tongue becomes unhinged; 2. I get delirious.

Now.

These things are not necessarily bad things, they can be productive things, like in everyday life.

But fuck me.

I processed that out in T-Group?

I mean, we’re not supposed to process T-Group outside of T-Group.

(whatever happens at Burning Man stays at Burning Man, unless he’s coming over to see me next week, but that would be telling wouldn’t it?)

Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Yet.

Wow.

I have been tired today, exhausted, burnt up, done in, almost feverish with exhaustion.

I suspect I might be sick, but I honestly cannot tell if it is because I am legitimately ill or if it is like a flavor of ice cream cone– colored tired as fuck.

I am ice cream cone covered tired.

Colored in pastels and sorbet and the melting of psyche all over my hands and sticky little face.

I imagine I sounded like a child, that I was in a fugue state, that I was explicative and profound, but when I talked of seeing the faces in the group and being grateful for them, each one, every one, that the richness I found in the silence, that for some was uncomfortable, was like hearing the voice of God.

And sometimes God spoke in a language I did not understand, but as I listened closer and closer, I could feel the imprint of the feeling and I could hold the space for the emotions and I became a sort of white-hot crucible unto myself.

The feverish doozy weariness brought me to a point of sublimation and softness that I did not know I was capable of.

I also have to say, I saw that I was not taking the best care of myself over the weekend.

That I experienced some financial insecurities and instead of allowing myself to eat out, I just pillage the fridge at home until there was nothing left and I did not do myself any justice by not stopping to get groceries last night.

In other words.

I did not eat enough for lunch and I felt a huge sugar crash come over me while I was in the first part of the T-Group class.

I wasn’t sure at first what was happening and also what to say about it other than I was exhausted.

I was not the only person exhausted and I acknowledge that I showed up anyway, but I did feel this need to clarify it and also a fear that I couldn’t, that I couldn’t be anything but strong and that I was going to make it through and here’s how.

I can be tired.

There is nothing wrong in admitting that.

I also did some radical self-care, which in the moment felt bizarre, but I had the capacity for words to at least try to show up with an explanation.

I ramble.

I was joined at lunch by my partner from my Human Development class and I was not able to concretely deal.

i was trying to get my blood sugar levels up and for a period of ten minutes I had not done anything but steadily shove food in my mouth.

I realized when I was heading up to the kitchen on campus that I was having classic ‘bonking’ syndromes.

The last time I felt like this, and I am feeling like it again, so I may pause and refresh here momentarily.

Was when I did the AidsLIfeCycle ride in 2010.

I bonked on a training ride once out to the Nicassio reservoir in Marin County.

And once on the ride itself, waiting in line for the food at the pop up cafeteria.

I stood in the little kitchen on the fifth floor and put a Baby Belle Cheese in my mouth, peeled an egg, and ate a can of tuna without talking or stopping to do anything other than eat.

I did not even season the food.

Let me tell you desperation to be fed is when I don’t even stop to put salt on that shit.

I just stood and consumed.

Then I sat and ate an apple and when my partner engaged I told her the truth of what I was feeling.

I did not go into the future, where there is so much fear, I’m not enough, I can’t handle this program, I’m working too hard, I’m not working hard enough, I don’t have the energy capable of sustaining this, etc, etc,

I stayed in the moment.

I stayed at the table in the kitchen and said my bit.

She brightened and thanked me for being honest and I felt held and sacred.

The feeling stayed with me and startled me a little and I suspect that combined with the needing more food in my system led me out the door and up to the market for another piece of fruit and a coconut mango smoothie.

No sugar, thanks.

No flour, thanks.

But I had to eat some fruit for the natural sugars.

And I was ok with it.

I am ok with it all right now too.

Ok.

That I did not read when I got home.

Ok.

That I am distracted and disoriented and that reflects my blog abilities.

And.

Ok that I am just a human having a human experience.

And when I get too overwhelmed with it.

The human experience.

I get sweet texts messages and learn how to bask in the glow.

Of.

Acceptance.

For being exactly, imperfectly.

Perfectly.

Me.


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