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With Great Care

October 30, 2017 //
0

I didn’t have an easy night. Falling asleep didn’t happen easily. Staying asleep wasn’t going super well, either. At midnight, again, I was awake, drinking hot tea to sooth my sore throat, and waiting to be sleepy enough, again, to try sleep, again. Pillows piled too high, I didn’t seem to doze off. Too low and I found that I quickly couldn’t breathe. Sometime after 2 am, I found a “sweet spot”. The alarm went off far too soon after that.

Yesterday it was an achievement to enjoy a moment in the garden, quietly.

I woke with a clear sense that I am “getting over this”, at long last, although the cough persists, my throat is still sore, and my sinuses are still stuffy. There’s a new quality to it, subtle and hard to pin down specifically, that just feels like everything is, in some tiny way, just a bit less “off” and just a bit more “recovering”. I’m not well, though, and there are so many ways to choose to proceed that could delay getting over this completely. “Pushing myself too hard” is just one of them, but it is on my mind because it is one that I rather regularly choose. I’m not inclined to do that, today. I consider calling out entirely, but there is a small amount of preparatory work setting up tomorrow that I would ideally want to have done before tomorrow arrives… but… yeah, soooo not up to working an entire day in the office.

Today was either going to be working from home (this cough is pretty disruptive, if nothing else), or calling out entirely; that’s the decision that needs to be made this morning. I still don’t know. I was pretty sick Friday, such that I failed to bring my (work) laptop home with me (just wasn’t thinking clearly). To work from home I need to go get it. (The humor in that is not lost on me; if I work, I’ll have to commute, to get the laptop, to work from home.) Calling out comes with no such requirement, and omg I am so still sick enough, but it is a choice that requires convincing myself to let Monday’s work go even just one day, and picking up that thread tomorrow. Layers of decision-making. If I choose to call out today, and end up feeling like working from home tomorrow makes more sense than going into the office… then I’ve merely delayed that silly commute to pick up the laptop. If I think there is any risk at all I may want/need to work from home tomorrow, it makes sense to get the laptop today… doesn’t it? Or does it?

All the major weekly deliverables on my plate each week that go out to my consumers are handled on Mondays. This makes Mondays “matter” a great deal to me. But… so does my health. Shit. This is hard.

I do feel “more better” this morning than I have in days… My decision this morning may affect my timely recovery from illness… soooo…

I keep turning it over in my head. Pros. Cons. Back and forth. Out of nowhere I am wracked with coughs, choking on the crap my lungs are trying to expel that has slowly settled in them over days. No. It’s pretty clear. I’m not quite well yet. Almost there… almost… there…

I decide to call out for this one. Just, call out. Entirely. Work on getting sufficiently well to really return to work tomorrow. I find myself hoping this is the wiser choice. I breathe. Pay attention to my physical state of being in all particulars… I feel some tiny bit better today than any day I went home early last week… I also feel notably worse than any day I worked an entire shift last week… I also feel very much that one more day of recovery will see me past the worst of it, and really ready to get back to work… so…

I make the hard choice. I call out for today. I commit to taking care of this fragile vessel. I use up a couple more tissues. I cough for a few minutes more. I finish my coffee, and make a cup of tea. I adjust the thermostat to “staying home today”.

Then, I begin again.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Still Sick, Pretty Tired of It

October 29, 2017 //
2

I woke with a cough to a misty autumn morning. It is clear that it has recently rained. The mist hangs in the trees, visible across the street, and obscuring any view slowly developing through the trees at the edge of the deck, as their leaves fall. I break a sweat wrapping my fuzzy warm bathrobe around myself. I am dizzy as I make my coffee. The coughing persists.

It’s only a weekend, and it is looking like I will probably still be sick when Monday comes around. Oh sure, perhaps less so than on Friday, but still… sick. Officially an entire week being ill. If I’d had any doubt about this being no-kidding-influenza, those dissipated like autumn mist sometime on Friday. Few things keep me ill for so long. Having had all but 2 annual flu shots since 1978, and even getting vaccinated against pneumonia in 2009, I rarely actually come down with the flu, or if I do, it lasts no longer than a mild head cold. I’m sorry I’ve been so cross and whiny about it. I don’t like being sick, really, at all.

Today I will have to stir beyond this dwelling, like it or not; I will use my last dose of one cold symptom medication and would be wise to replace it. I don’t really want to go out at all.

I’ve done literally nothing but sleep and undertake the most basic self-care this weekend. The housekeeping is piling up. I have been pretty easily able to pay it no mind – I’m sick, and have no fucks to give, so… yeah. This morning, though, the little waste baskets each full to overflowing with used tissues, and (god damn it) again with dishes in the sink, I find myself at least aware of my surroundings and circumstances. I may attempt to bring some order, later, but for now I am still too dizzy-tired-not-yet-awake for any of that.

I notice that the most recently opened tissue box is not at hand… I wonder apathetically where I might have left it, until I really do need it, then I interrupt my moment to go find the damned thing. My coffee is almost done, and instead of a second, I think of maybe going back to bed. lol Being sick is less than ideally productive. Maybe tomorrow I can earnestly begin again…?

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Categories anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Taking Care of the Woman in the Mirror

October 28, 2017 //
0

I succeeded in sleeping in this morning, until almost 8:30 am. It mattered less that I also woke basically every two hours during the night, or that I was awake for two hours, sometime around midnight, than that I was able to simply keep sleeping until the thought of being awake no longer seemed like a compromise of my most basic self-care. I was up for a couple of hours. I watched some entertaining videos. I scrolled through Facebook. I showered and handled basic hygiene and self-care tasks (most easily accomplished while I am awake).

I went back to bed, and slept through much of the afternoon, waking more or less around tea time, which is to say, around 3pm. I woke a number of times, but a quick check on my consciousness found me choosing more sleep, each time, until this last time, when I chose, at last, to wake and even to get up. I had to pee. Not getting up wasn’t really an option. I didn’t go back to bed, but mostly only because I didn’t want more sleep any more than I wanted to be awake, and since I was already awake, and up, I simply decided to continue along that path awhile. lol I’m not terrifically engaged with the moment, the fire of my natural presence flickers. Clearly I am ill. So… a fresh cup of hot tea. A new moment. I am on auto-pilot, and only barely truly awake. I am uncertain where the evening may take me.

I am hungry. The amount of work involved in feeding myself doesn’t seem at all appealing. The sorts of foods I could order? Don’t seem at all appealing. So. Here I sit. Hungry and doing nothing whatsoever about it. Thinking about taking action on the food thing, I find myself contemplating going back to bed instead… I would not notice any feelings of hunger if I were asleep… It would be easier.

I sip my tea. It is hot, bland, basically flavorless. I’m sick and nothing tastes good, really. I think about how easily I could heat up some chicken soup, though… Chicken soup, with Rick & Morty… or chicken soup with Archer… or chicken soup with Harry Potter, South Park, or Samurai Champloo… or chicken soup with a favorite book… I chuckle when I realize that I am more interested in the chicken soup itself than any accompanying entertainment. Okay, okay – chicken soup then. No problem. I’ve got plenty made. I find myself feeling somewhat buoyed by the thought of rich hot broth, chunks of chicken meat, veggies stewed in the flavorful broth, buckwheat noodles…

I lift myself from my chair with some awkwardness and stiffness. I barely notice the pain I am in, moment-to-moment, because flu symptoms suck so much, but there it is, when I move. I stand with some difficultly, and wait a few seconds to be sure of my balance, before making my way to the kitchen. Chicken soup won’t heat itself. lol One obvious downside to living alone; I’ve always got to be the one fetching tissues or mugs of tea, or heating up the soup. 🙂

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Categories anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

7134

October 27, 2017 //
0

I rarely look forward to another day, and a chance to sleep in, as much as I do waking up to the alarm, groggy and sick on a Friday morning, after a restless interrupted night. All I could think about was “tomorrow I get to sleep in”. Hell, I’m still eagerly assuring myself that tomorrow there will be no alarm clock.

I woke during the night choking on a situation that went well beyond “post nasal drip”, sufficient to wake me in a panic, struggling to breathe. I didn’t even bother attempting to go immediately back to sleep; I’ve been waking up just about the same time each night since Sunday, and most of the week, eventually also getting up, having a cup of chamomile tea, and attempting to meditate, usually unsuccessfully, before returning to bed. I can almost hear the creaking and groaning of routines fracturing like ice on a winter pond under the weight of my experience of being sick. I’ve run out of fucks to give, and basic self-care is just about the best I can do this morning.

…I’ve been managing to keep the dishes caught up, though. 😀

Still sick. Definitely not feeling particularly inspired. Willing to begin again… tomorrow, though, okay? 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Sick, Tired, Uninspired

October 26, 2017 //
1

I’m still sick, and it is sort of pissing me off (along with just feeling poorly). I mean, it isn’t that bad, right? Just bad enough to keep me feeling fairly under-the-weather, fatigued, and out-of-sorts dealing with symptoms. I get over the headache, the sore throat gets worse. The sore throat isn’t so bad? Well, the sinus congestion is worse. Got the sinus congestion mostly managed? No problem, how about we move this crap into my chest and add a cough? I guess I wasn’t surprised by the return of the headache, the swollen glands, or the utter lack of deeply restful sleep, which persists. Who the hell decided we needed to be meat puppets of all things?? Highly inefficient. Prone to illness, and all manner of breakdowns. :-\

I grumble through my shower, yoga, my morning coffee, and even a restless attempt at a morning walk around the block, which got me to the end of the driveway. (I really “needed some air”. The fresh air felt lovely, but I am too sick to take any sort of long walk.) Meditation, like sleep, works out less than ideally well.

On my way in to the office, I’ll stop by the doctor’s office and lab, and have a properly credentialed adult provide an opinion; it’s rare that I’m sick more than a day or two, and this is day 4. I remind myself that it is more than likely what I thought it most likely to be initially, just this year’s newest strain of ick going around. Common enough in my work environment. This being the case does not stop the circumstances from being incredibly annoying; I have weekend plans. 😦 The closer the weekend gets, the less likely it seems that those plans will live to see real life in action. Yes, hell yes, I am disappointed. Sort of. Almost. I’m just sick enough to also mostly not actually care any time I think of sleeping, sleeping in, going back to sleep, napping, resting, lying down… Yeah, I’m totally sick.

I may not write tomorrow. The desire to sleep in today almost got me to reset the alarm for later. Tomorrow I might follow through on that, since I clearly need more sleep right now. I’m too sick to have much to say that has any lasting value, the writing is habitual, and part of “who I am”, I sit down to it each day mostly without even thinking about it, or planning to. It is a commitment. A compulsion? A practice.

Tomorrow, I’ll probably just begin again. 🙂

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Categories anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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