Archive for the ‘In Sickness and In Health’ Category

So far, so eh

May 14, 2014

I went to the hospital a couple of weeks ago. I felt weird, my left arm felt really heavy and sort of tingly. I thought I was having a heart attack. The doctor and nurses thought I was having a stroke. It wasn’t a heart attack or a stroke.

Turned out, I probably had a pinched nerve that cleared itself up after 4 hours in the Emergency Department. They suggested I follow up with my family practitioner.

They were glad I came in, because women’s heart attacks are different than men’s and the symptoms were close enough that they did some tests and I had an EKG.

Bottom line: go to the hospital when you feel something really significant enough to take the aspirin. Or, in my case, when I stop feeling like knitting – because then something really is wrong.

aww, no

December 19, 2013

I just got an email about tax software.

This compounded with having returned from the UK after being overseas for five months, unpacking, jetlag, getting the kids up and going to school, getting and planning food from an empty cupboard, changing my insurance, sorting through the seasonal clothing, laundry, holiday shopping and plans, cleaning a house that’s been empty for five months, and a really, really bad cold.

Forget this.  I’m going to knit.

hypochondria

August 23, 2013

I’m a hypochondriac.  Self-diagnosed, but still.  I know it when I feel it.

So when I developed a little hard pad of skin on the tip of my finger, I immediately started to worry.  Was it some kind of bacteria eating my skin?  Something contagious?  A parasite?

I worried and worried.  I didn’t tell W, or even do something rational, like talking to a medical professional or even check the internet for “hard pad of skin developed suddenly on tip of finger.”  I was afraid I would <i>really</i> make it a big deal.

Ha.

After months of this, I sat on the couch and just started picking at it.  After a little bit, it fell off, leaving a slightly softer pad of skin on my finger.

Then it came to me.

I knew what I had.

Knitting callous.

I deserve a callous on my face from headdesking so hard.

it could be worse, I guess

August 24, 2012

I’ve been sick for most of the last two weeks and then I woke up with a really sore neck.  It’s a sad thing when your body just throws in the towel like that.

Sorry about the long bit of silence on my part.  I had miserable allergies and then was on a long vacation without the internet – it was a bad case of in-law-itis.  And then I got a bad cold.  Super bad – so congested and sore muscles.  I still crawled into work for half days to finish up what I needed to do, but it was a miserable time.  Too miserable to write, too miserable to return comments, too miserable to deal with my bad work situation.

The work situation was resolved, but not in my favor.  It’s almost like a dare now.  (W would not categorize it like that – he just knows and my boss and I know how underemployed and under paid I was, and now I’m less underemployed but no less under paid.)  But in my head, it’s a dare.  Like if I could finish up a original novel, even a sucky internet self-published thing, I bet I could make about what I make at my job.  Or else I have to get them to start paying for more training so I can leave that job, but I need to make it sound like I’m getting that training to become more valuable to them.

Anyway, it was and still has the bits of bad situation around here.  Once I really start feeling better, maybe that will clear up.  Everything tends to look worse when I’m feeling physically under the weather.

I was so sick I used a neti pot.  (It’s something where you pour water through one nostril and get it to come out the other.  It sounds terrible, and if you’re congested, it’s even worse, but when the other meds aren’t doing their job, anything, even pouring water through your face sounds like a viable alternative.)  Verdict: gross.  And I was so congested that one side didn’t even let any water out – just pooled in my face.  Gross.  Still, stopping felt pretty good.

I suppose I should be glad that illness and in-laws and bad work situation and just not having any energy just puts me into a flat emotional non-writing state with flare-ups of annoyance and not a real depression.

Still around…

March 9, 2012

Not certain what is going on with the mental energy recently.  Only seem able to produce drabbles and write endless, unnecessary backstory for my current works in progress.  Somewhat frustrating.  Might also have to do with having to engage more at work now, and having less time at home to write.  On the upside, I am doing some more cleaning and occasionally go out for a walk when the (crazy, crazy) weather is nice.

Baby J (who is now upgraded to Toddler J) has been sick the last few days.  Nothing too serious – a bad cold.  Her nose is running like the proverbial faucet.

Been trying to work with Henry to get him to read these past couple of months.  Learning to read is a real process – and from the outside, you can really see how hard it is.  It is really frustrating for him.  But it’s not like I can let him not learn.  So, we practice.  Even if it makes him mad and tired of me.  (Side note: English is a pain in the ass.  I get the whole French accent thing for consistency thing now.)  I am also terribly envious of people whose children learn how to read on their own.

I almost got a speeding ticket a couple of weeks ago.  But I saw the cop car in enough time to slow down and then had him follow me until I escaped onto private property (the location of my job).  I was afraid that I had slowed down enough for him to give me a ticket for obstructing traffic.  It almost gave me a heart attack.  I could not get another speeding ticket – nor could I afford the time to wait to get one.  That’s the worst.   (It’s not like I’ve gotten so many, it’s just that once you go through the process, you really never want to go through it again.)

I told a friend of mine about this later that day and she said, “Oh, yeah.  That corner’s famous for the cops waiting there.”  Nobody told me.  I wish somebody had.  Of course, I’m being the fool here.  I drive by that corner every working day.  I should have noticed.

Also, working on taxes.  Sigh.  Citizenship.  The prices of it.  Etcetera.  Discuss.

Sick of it

January 3, 2012

So sick. Got a terrible sinus pain from a bad cold. It feels like a toothache all over my face.  Just throbbingly bad.

Hopefully, that’s what’s causing my current writing blues.

What might have made the problem worse was the trip we just took to DC, which was great, except that I was so miserable for it. At least we did stuff and tried to not think about how miserable I was.  Walked the National Mall in the cold, yelled at children and tried to be upbeat.

Hey friends that I visited – I’m sorry if I made you sick. Really, really sorry.

Also, read the Stephen King writing memoir.  Most lasting thing: he aims for 2ooo words a day.  Just, wow.

Maybe I’ll go call in sick, hide in bed for a while and try to feel better, about the cold and my low verbiage.  (2k a day?  Damn.)

my co-pilot

October 21, 2011

I mentioned the possibility of writing something steampunk with W recently. We talked about how awful the Victorians were. And then how I was still getting sucked into the idea of an airship pilot thing – but yet how I was driven insane by the idea of how much training each person must have, how big a ship could be, the ranks on an airship, what background knowledge a pilot of that period must have. W was then later pretty cute. He handed me a book from his personal library about Darwin’s first ship captain – as an analogue for some of that kind of thing. I guess I’m just going to have that write that thing now.  (Yes, this is how we do cute.  We trade books.  Don’t judge.)

I have the outline scratched out already. It’s turning into a regency romance, but with airships. I don’t know how this happens with things in my head, but there you go.  (W might be conscripted into reading draft – but I’m not certain this is his cup of tea.  Too bad, W.  That’s what you get for being so cute.)

And in another news, I think I’ve mostly finished my first attempt at exchange fic. Now I’ve got to finish up second attempt and figure out what to do with it. Can I submit it, do you think? Would it be worth hurrying up to do so? Hmm. Deep questions. The kind of questions that require something starchy and sweet to ponder. Maybe a babysitter too.

…and that’s the cost of hitting your head

September 13, 2011

Am starting to get the bills from Henry’s unfortunate accident.  The cost of 2 CAT scans in respectively, 1 emergency room and 1 trauma center for 1 night’s observation  is currently in the neighborhood of $15,000.00.  This does not include any of the specialists who looked at him, nor cost of transporting him between two hospitals.  Mind you, there was no actual surgery.  (No wonder people without health insurance go bankrupt.)

Am working through the paperwork right now.  Expect there will be more.

I don’t know how I feel about the cost – because it is high – but also because that was the price put on the skills and time of all of those people (nurses, doctors, EMT’s, the nice cleaning lady at the hospital, all the people we don’t see), and the equipment/building use.   That is worth a great deal – and we’d pay it – because Henry is worth so much to us.   (Can’t even think about what I would have done had it been more serious.)   We wouldn’t have done it any other way – and for a head injury, you need to be very cautious.  But it’s just crazy that amount of money, for a single day.  That’s all.

Just a squawk of protest because the hard, cold brick of reality just hit this dumb bird’s head very hard.

vacation stuff

September 7, 2011

So we’ve come back from vacation.

We spent most of a week in Minneapolis, where W had a conference.  It wasn’t a great vacation for me, because I still had to take care of the kids but now in a new and different locale without any outside support.  Still, I got to see an old friend and her children and go to a bunch of different museums and generally have some different scenery.

Then we went to Hilton Head, SC, where my brother has a time-share.  (Why he has one is a completely different post – but the short of it is that he bought it on ebay sight unseen.  I mean, who does that?)  It was really nice, but sort of stressful.   First, our flight landed several hours late, so we had to book over to the car rental place because it was going to close.  Then W got stung by a jellyfish.  Then Henry slipped while running on tile, hit his head and then couldn’t stop vomiting.  So W ended up in an emergency room while they decided whether or not he had a subarachnoid hematoma  (Look it up, it’s f%@$ing scary.)  W went with him in the ambulance to the local trauma center in case they needed to do brain surgery.  They didn’t, but kept him overnight for observation.  (Henry’s fine now, and still running on tile – giving me agita all the time.) I yelled at him a lot following the hospital visit to just slow his skinny little butt down.

Well, at least we left before the hurricane got there.  That would have been just the finishing touch to a vacation worthy of writing about, in the negative sense.  (My brother is all “I’m sorry you used our time share and had a bad vacation.  None of that stuff ever happened to us while we were there.”  I don’t know if he’ll ever offer it to us again, given our experience.)  It wasn’t a bad vacation at all – it was pretty relaxing when I wasn’t all stressed out.

My usual bugbears were in residence – how much food to buy?  (Nothing but coffee was supplied – and I refused to buy sugar and salt for 6 days.)  What to do?  Are we lost?  How are we going to feed the children?  What do we take back with us?  But I was moderately productive and finished a short story I’d been working on.  (It was a prompt for a kink meme, and not very kinky.)  The kids loved the beach (and I loved it at low tide – it was amazing, so much beach!), and the kiddie pool on the property.  There was a surprising number of birds (pelicans, herons, gulls, terns, and a bunch I couldn’t name) – and J kept calling out “Birdie!  Birdie!” everytime we saw one.

I felt awkward about the playstructure being right next to the bar – because I wouldn’t want to see my kids seeing me drink – cocktail in hand, hanging out by the monkey bars.  I wanted the playstructure to be situation on a big plot of green on other piece of property – far from the bar, where my kids wouldn’t be able to see all those people drinking.  W says that nobody else but me would think it is wrong to have a drink at the bar and watch your kids play while you’re on vacation, because, guess what, you’re on vacation.

But I guess I’m applying non-vacation standards to a vacation.  Story of my life (the wrong application of situations to standards/thoughts/actions).  Sigh.

love and writing

June 16, 2011

When W and I started dating (a million years ago) and I came out of the closet as a writer, he was pretty understanding.  It was a bigger deal to me to tell somebody, honestly.  Because I like writing, but it feels selfish.  (“I love you, now go away because I’m doing something really important to me that you’re never going to see.”) Maybe it’s something that’s okay for him because he was essentially a single child (much older sibs) and a guy who was always okay with his own hobbies.

To be honest,  I’m shit for writing anything of length.  And I just like plot.  Plotty plotty plotty.  But there is no way I could make a living at this – and neither could I give it up.  Hard to justify, really.

He recently mentioned this conversation, which I had forgotten, to indicate that fanfic seemed like a good outlet for this need, but as a medium is accepting of my limitations.  It was sort of nice that he remembered.

(Writing was something I did as a kid, and then put away.  When I think about it, I really wonder what the hell I was doing for a decade (with all the time I had BC (Before Children) because I could really do with it now).  I wrote a bunch of beginnings of novels that didn’t go anywhere, for the most part.   This is where I really figured out that I tend not to finish stuff, and it’s really discouraging.  Fanfic, and the audience it provides, has helped me over some of that and figure out more of my process.)

Then the other day, I was picking at an original science fiction short story.  W wanted to know the details – he reads sci-fi, he’d be open to the plot.  So I told him.  He asked me if I knew much of it was a huge trope, which I did.  (I have long resigned myself to the concept that nothing is original but presentation.)  But he thought it could work.  Which is nice. He then told me that he really doesn’t like short stories.  So I guess I can’t ask him to be a reader.