Blog Archives

Musings from the Laundromat: Last muse of the Year

image

If I were ever going to be the person that wore their pajamas out in public, it would have been today.  But I’m not and I didn’t.

Tossed and turned last night, with my tossing and turning only to be interrupted by brief and very odd, commercial length dreams.  “This night of restlessness sponsored by ‘REM’.”

In between coughing and telling Butters to go lay down, I found myself helping someone find their small silver dog  and sitting in on a table reading for a radio spot??

I’m not even going to bother trying to interpret those.

I’ve been awake (and I use that term loosely) for less than an hour and am now at my table after filling 3 washing machines.

I wanted to get here as early as possible so that I can go home and rest!

I’m still sick.

I tried to cheer myself up after it was clear I had to actually put clothes on this morning and announced to the dog “I’ll wear my pink underwear today!”

She didn’t much care – but I guess I thought a punch of secret color would put a little pep in my dragging step.

It hasn’t.

I’m pretty sure I look like a homeless person right now.  A sick homeless person.

It hasn’t frightened anyone off so far though – in fact, two people struck up conversations with me while I was stuffing the machines with my offerings.

I should have coughed more.

That’s how I know (other than the uncontrollable coughing and general apathy) that I’m under the weather.

Any other day those people would have ended up in my blog – after I chatted their ears off and found out where they were from and what they did and who they loved and …. well – I suppose they’ve ended up in my blog anyway.

Let’s go back to before I got here.

image

Yeah – like that.  Only, it was one 18 year-old child and I didn’t have my fun pink underwear on yet.

My son stood outside my bathroom, “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“When are you going to do laundry?”

“Half an hour – why?”

Now, I was seriously thinking that because he was up so early maybe he had contracted my bug, OR, actually wanted to come with me.

No.

“Can you wake me up when you get back?”

really

Sigh.

He retreated to his wing of the house and I brushed my teeth and stepped on the scale.

Tangent.

I’m thin.  I lost weight sensibly and over time and when I quit drinking, the rest of the weight slid off.

I did notice in one of the photos I had taken with Lisa however, that I looked too thin.

I brought it up to my mom yesterday who mentioned that she had been noticing and when my ‘skinny’ jeans are baggy it might mean I have lost too much weight.

They are baggy.

I eat!  I do!  I love food!

I think the method I used for losing the weight has stuck with me though.  I only eat when I’m hungry.  I don’t believe in Breakfast ‘time’, lunch ‘time’, dinner ‘time’ – I eat whenever I want and stop when I’m full.

Sometimes I eat like a hobbit and have second or third breakfasts – sometimes I only want my lunch all day.  I listen to my body.

Pretty simple.

But yesterday I forced a meal down because I don’t want my skinny jeans to be baggy.

So I’m on the scale – and I’ve lost 2 pounds.  I don’t know where they went!  I’ve been stuffing my face with holiday food – I’ve had two friends take me to lunch (Thank you Ruth and Lisa) and been digging in to the sweets that were in my Christmas stocking.

Seriously – how am I now 5’9 (and a half) and 125 lbs?!

It bothers me.

I do not have an eating disorder, but the thought of eating just for the sake of gaining weight – of forcing food down that I am not hungry for … is repulsive to me.  (Says the girl who ordered Foie Gras)

Food should be savored – appreciated – enjoyed!

I would say I’ll snack more – but I already do that!

During the week I constantly have food in my mouth – it’s become an office joke.

Anyway – so I need to gain weight.

Back to Nic and the fact that he was not offering to come to the laundromat with me.

I got a Barnes and Noble gift card for Christmas – and I think one of the books that I am going to have to buy is “The Little Red Hen”.  I think that book should be mandatory reading for everyone. Period.

image

If you don’t contribute, you don’t get to enjoy the outcome.

You want to enjoy living in a clean house?  Help clean it.  You want clean clothes to wear?  Help clean them.  You want a happy life?  Put positive things into it.

Which, brings me to one of the things I plan on ‘resolving’ to do for the New Year.

Less bitching.

image

I’m going to find my positive energy again.  The power of positivity juxtaposed with my inability to edit myself may prove to be a problem, but I don’t expect results over night.

Perhaps if I constantly have food in my mouth, I won’t be able to gripe?  Two birds, one stone.

Then the dam broke

“It’s just everything – it’s worrying about Christmas,  and the car … and always having to worry about things like that – it’s doing it alone, but I wouldn’t have it any other way – what we have … and not feeling well and not being able to go to the doctor – it’s being stressed out and not having someone to talk to about it.  Because they’re going to tell me not to feel a certain way when I DO feel that way.  It must be okay to feel that way if I feel it??  It’s when people ask “Feeling better?” with a raised eyebrow because your answer had better be ‘yes’ … it’s not being allowed to feel sad because you’re the person who makes people laugh.  And on top of it all, I don’t feel well.  And I’m sad.  I’m just … sad.  And no, it’s not forever – and yes, it will pass and I’m so grateful – I’m grateful for everything we have and everything we don’t have … but I’m just … sad.  And I should be allowed to feel sad.”

– Me, after telling my son I couldn’t possibly vent to him.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

I left work early today.

I couldn’t take one more second of holding myself upright when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball.  I put a smile in my voice on the phone … and in front of customers who came into my office.   I went above and beyond on my files – went in early today and cleaned.  I pushed and pushed – and broke.

Monday I had a pretty bad ‘spell’ at work.  Besides my heart condition – I think my body also tells me when it’s done holding things in.

My vision blurred in my right eye and my chest squeezed.  I couldn’t get my bearings. I sat outside on a curb, taking purposeful breaths and feeling the wind on my skin until the spell mostly passed and went back in to work.

That’s what I do.

Remove myself, compose myself and return.

Yesterday I came very close to asking to use my barely used sick time.  But I stuck it out.  My ears have been hurting me – I’m dizzy and nauseated.  But I stuck it out.

This morning, I came even closer to asking to use my barely used sick time – then remembered I had a meeting and had to approve a settlement statement so that a customer could sign their documents.  So I went in.

I tied all the loose ends up and emailed both of my bosses asking to use 1/2 of a sick day.

The answer was yes.

I read an article yesterday on a hospice website.  About the phases of death.  I was making sure I was using ‘catabolic’ correctly in my last post.  A catabolic state is when your body can no longer process nourishment – it’s so starved for it – it starts breaking itself down.

That’s how I understood it anyway.

And that’s how I have been feeling.  Like there has been no nourishing input lately – that I’m sustaining myself and breaking down all my reserves.

So after my grand monologue that I wasn’t going to give in front of my son, I ended with, “I just want to hear ‘everything is going to be ok'”

To which my son replied, “Everything is going to be ok”

And when he hugged me – I sobbed harder.  And he didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to feel sad.

I love him so very much.

The sky this morning

The sky this morning

Turrets and teeth

tower

I did something today I haven’t done in the two years I’ve been at my current job.  I called in sick.  Well, I emailed in sick to be accurate.

While the frequency of my mouth pain has substantially subsided, it still comes out of nowhere and WHAM!  Instant debilitation.

I did not want to stray far from my heating pad and, until the antibiotics kick in, am only finding relief ultimately from pain pills that I should not be taking and driving.

Nor should I be making calculated decisions, sitting upright or operating heavy machinery (like a work computer – my home one doesn’t count, if I type something wrong here, it’s not going to affect the outcome of a home purchase.)

I’m also in a bit of a dark place. 

I think when we’re not feeling well, we’re more susceptible to letting our demons in.  I’ve been cranky and sad, bitter and broody.  I counter every thought in my head with a chastising and put myself in a time-out.  I’m aware of the bullshit that is going through my head and I know that it stems from not feeling well.

It’s still scary though.

I do not like not feeling like ‘myself’.  Funny, considering this is the same body that craved that exact result for so many years. 

I’ve also come to the conclusion that funny and happy are much more appealing topics than serious or sad ones. 

To healthy people anyway.

So instead of feeling slighted that when I got few responses to the posts that only consisted of updates about how miserable I was feeling – I should be ecstatic that I have healthy people in my life. 

Turn it around.

That’s what I’ve been doing during some darker moments.

I felt like a monster yesterday and this morning when I could imagine putting a bullet through my dog’s head as she barked non-stop out of the window. 

I had to pick through that.  I know I could never – would never do such a thing.  I walk around bugs on the ground for crying out loud!

But as I lay on the couch, trying to rest – trying to gain some ground on my return to ‘me’, I didn’t want to hear one more yap.

Turn it around.

She’s guarding her family.  Albeit, from an innocuous car driving by the house or perhaps a feral rabbit hopping by the fence, but for all intents and purposes, she is barking for good.

So I gave her a squeaky toy and a chewy treat, not a bullet. 

I’ve also been scared. 

That first night – the worst night – I knew there was no one to turn to.  No one to step up and take the lead.  No one to take care of me.

This is by my own choosing, I know this.  But the older I get, the harder it is ‘going it alone’. 

It’s not fair that my son had to play that role. 

He put his arms around me on the couch as I sobbed out in pain and rocked me back and forth. 

It reminded me of the book ‘Love you Forever’.  When the grown man comes to his ailing, old mother and sings her the song she sang to him so many times.

sonholdmom

He is not a grown man.

But he intuitively knew what was happening was no joke – and I needed comfort.

This past weekend he went to the grocery store for me, he brought me soft food and he was kind and sweet and loving.

A friend stopped by, not even knowing exactly where I lived – but she found my car after driving around.

So, I know there are people I can reach out to – but it’s very, very hard for me to do. 

I can’t look someone in the eye and say “I need help”.

I use my words.  My written words – to express how I’m feeling.

It’s cathartic and feels safe.  I don’t have to watch body language or facial expressions and have my warped sense of pride spit out an inaccurate reading.

My written words I trust.  I’ve always been able to say what I want to say on paper – or now, a screen.

What I want to say is, I need people.  I am scared of doing everything alone and I can’t do it all.  I don’t want to.

My pride has got in the way for years. 

I know this.  But I don’t know what to do about it. 

I had multiple people offer to loan me the money for the dental procedure – but I turned them all down.  I didn’t want to owe my friends money.  And when something isn’t hurting, it’s very easy to prioritize something else.

I’ve come a long way.  But there’s a hard-wired need to take care of things by myself.  Not depend on anyone.  Who knows why.  That’s a whole couch session.  Let down in the past, abandonment, or – letting someone help me and having it lorded over me.  A number of reasons.

But, I have proven I’m self-sufficient to a point of selfishness. 

Something to think about.

I need to decide to let people in.  There are so many amazing souls in my life that I keep back behind a line I have drawn in my sand.

I didn’t just build a wall, I built a tower.  I locked myself inside of it and only rapelled down to go to work or fetch supplies.

I kept my son in there too – sheltered and watching me guard my self-imposed prison – Queen of my castle. 

Absolutely ridiculous.

You know, in dreams, teeth represent anxieties and problems. Perhaps in ignoring my anxieties until they hurt so much and knocked me on my arse, I’ve finally got the chance to fix them.

Once I have this problem pulled, I’ll work on getting the rest of me healthy.

The wrath of a woman with a cold (and too out of it to think of anything clever to rhyme with ‘scorned’)

I have a bug.  Not sure what strain and don’t really care.  Yesterday it manifested as a sore throat and a sleepless night.  This morning, I was very tempted to call in sick.

I have never called in sick since I’ve been at my current place of employment.  I have literally even gone to the emergency room and come BACK to work.

When I did call in sick at my other places of employment, it was usually because my son was sick and too young to be sick alone.

I also remembered I had a customer coming in at 9 a.m.  SO! I ‘manned’ up.  Got dressed, put what passed as a happy healthy face on and went to work.

Mini-tangent: Why do they call it ‘manning up’?  Really.  Isn’t it us women who soldier though our days with minimal complaint?

Well, not today baby.  By the time I got to work, I was dizzy, achy, had a headache that wouldn’t quit and the thought of food was so vile I actually only packed some salted tortilla chips and 3 clementines for lunch.

I sent an email to my manager requesting to leave early after I handled the urgent items on my desk.

No reply.

Hmph.

After the customer left my head was now spinning. I was seriously reconsidering the joys of having a swivel chair.

At about 12:30, the male loan officer in the office got the brunt of my pent-up sickly frustration.

“Have I EVER called in?  I feel like I don’t EXIST!  And WHAT is that in my inbox?”  He gingerly withdrew the item and in a small voice asked “well, what do you have going on work wise?”  I think I gaped.  I picked my jaw off of the floor and with watery eyes retorted with “Does it matter?!  Next time I’m just calling in!”  He backed away slowly with “you exist to me …”

I sat feeling very silly and a little sorry for myself and as touched as I could muster up by his comment.  I apologized and we agreed that not feeling well definitely amplifies frustration.

He generously offered that I should go home and rest so that I would ‘be better for tomorrow’.

Sigh.

I get home and crawl on the couch, mindful of the clock and the fact that I had an hour and a half before my son came home from school.

Nodded off after about 45 minutes of whimpering and was awakened by a stream of sunlight hitting me in the face.  I felt like a vampire for a split second – but did not combust.  The heat I felt after the front door closed was a fun new symptom – little fever.

In walks my son.  Does he ask why I’m home?  No.  He grabs the remote and quietly says, (like he’s doing me a favor) “I’m just going to do what I normally do.”  Cartoons are now in my aching ear – and he plops down at the computer.

I give up.  I decide we’re having an early dinner – which I know I have to make.  I do the dishes that I know I have to do –  and with all the maturity of a 43-year-old mom, I stomp off to my room to curl into a little sick ball.  Came out once to hear “what is the dog barking at?”

“I don’t know,” I snapped “Let me check shall I?”

Was pretty close to tears at that point – but that would have pushed me dangerously over the edge into ‘man cold’ territory.

I have T-minus 13 hours to make a miraculous recovery.  When my ears stop ringing, I’ll go find my cape.