Monday, November 30, 2009

Monday? Already?

Five days off went by in a blink. I didn't want to go to bed last night, because that would mean it was over.

Time now to focus on Christmas, and all I want or need to do before then. For tonight, though, bedtime cometh.

In closing, it was raining this afternoon, and I looked at the weather map to see if the end was in sight.

The end was in Mexico. The beginning was in Canada. It thinned out a bit in the middle, but whew.

I guess I should be glad I'm not in one of those spots where the rain was snow.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

More Miri

Yes, you think you know a cat ... and then you learn you didn't.

Yes, Miri is adapting to Harold's loss. I still don't know how things will work out, but I am optimistic. Since I certainly don't want to get another cat yet (maybe in six months, or a year), it is comforting to see that Miri will take some companionship from me. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right, little girl? Any old port in a storm?

She relaxed even more last night. If I could have seen these photos two weeks ago, I would not have believed them.

You guys are right, she may turn into a lap cat after all. How funny is that? It's okay if she doesn't, but still, how funny?

I hope I'm making some kind of sense tonight, but I'm not sure. I went to a party that turned out to be bigger than I had thought it would be, and I feel kind of like I was standing next to a gong that got hit. For three hours. Good friends, cute kids, great food, but, well, maybe more like this:

Friday, November 27, 2009

Tonight with Miri

After Harold died, I worried about how Miri would handle being an only cat. She loved him, followed him around, cuddled up to him whether he wanted or not, and if she lost track of him, would wander around meowing until she found him again. Could she handle being without him?

She's actually doing pretty well so far (though of course, it's early days yet). She definitely comes to me more for attention, and though she's still skittish at times, she seems to be relaxing more about my movements at least some of the time.

Sometimes, she still wanders around meowing, though. That's hard to hear.

We had ourselves a little photo shoot tonight.

Who disturbs me?

Oh, it's you.


Even without the flash, this is disturbing.

You're not going away, are you?


I know what I can do...

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Pre-Thanksgiving Thoughts

Unless this is your first time here, you have an idea of why this is not going to be my most grateful Thanksgiving ever. At this time of year, I like to think about things to be thankful for, but most of what I can come up with this year are the negative-thanks type, such as being grateful that more loved ones did NOT die, which doesn't seem to fit with the spirit of the holiday.

However, I have come up with a couple of things that are rather more positive, which I thought I would share before I went off to concoct angel salad and mash potatoes.

As I prepared to go shopping this morning, I was grateful to be going to a fully stocked grocery store, nearby, and to be focused on the list of items I wanted, not the money I could spend. I know that a lot of people, especially these days, have to start with what they can afford, not what they want to get, and I'm grateful that I got to do it the other way around.

And also, considering the last year, I am grateful for the support of family and friends (including you), who have helped me get through the (ahem) challenging events. Yes, a lot has sucked lately, but there's still a lot of love out there.

Happy Thanksgiving to the Americans, happy random Thursday if you're outside the country (is that a lot of you?). Travel safely, cook safely, eat safely. Hug your family, even the annoying ones. Hug them again.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Who Does She Think She Is?

A small incident at work got me pondering...

I think I'm no one, if you judge by org charts and company hierarchy. That's fine with me. I don't base my success, happiness, or much of anything else on how I rank in the company. Any company.

I think I'm someone who is working hard, at a job that is three jobs in one, trying to do a good job, or at least a good-enough job, in one-third of the time I could use to get everything done well.

I think I'm someone who is not satisfied by doing a "good enough" job, and gets frustrated by having too much work, not enough time.

I think I'm someone who is not good at knowing what answers to give to higher-ups, to the vague team-building questions like "where do you want to be in five years". Someone who has been praised for "thinking outside the box" but doesn't really know where the box is supposed to be.

I think I'm someone who is not good at office politics, who does not see things coming in the larger sense (remember: laid off twice, both surprises). Someone who is really good at the details, but needs help seeing the big picture.

I think I'm someone who hears "Do you know who I am?", either spoken or implied, and wants to say, "Seriously? Grow up."

And I don't see anything wrong with that.

(Here is where, if my scanner was working, I would show a pertinent Get Fuzzy strip, where Bucky, having threatened Rob, and been called on it, says, "I'm comfortable with who I am," to which Rob replies, "Oh, man, tell me about it...." However, the scanner is part of the printer with the phantom paper jam, so ... use your imagination?)

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Sunday comes again

After a weekend of mostly cramps and headache, I feel like there should be an asterisk next to any claim I make to be feeling better. For now, oh fates! I am not tempting you. Just saying that right now, I feel a bit better, and yea, I am grateful.

It's been a pretty laid back weekend, given the lack of omph in the health department on top of the total bleah in the emotion department. For a day that was supposed to be sunny, it's been remarkably cloudy here today, as well, and at 3 PM I felt like it was hours later, the dark was so settled. Not a lovely thing, but at least it's early yet, the weekend is not quite over, I have time to get a few more things done. And on a gray November Sunday, that may be the best to be said.

And this seems to be all I have to say, so in closing I will share this video with you. If this guy didn't go out and buy a lottery ticket, I don't know why not. Perhaps because he used up the luck for all the rest of his whole life in less than thirty seconds?

Friday, November 20, 2009

Finally, Finally Friday

Well, this week has been a hell of a downer, hasn't it. Let's find some good news, shall we? There isn't much, but there's a little bit, and what with the major sorrow of losing Harold, and the minor but definite annoyance of my period coming this week with (naturally) more cramps and backache than usual, I need to look at sunshine (metaphorically speaking). And I don't just mean that the Bruins managed to win last night (just barely, in the shootout, but it counts). (Can they make it 2 in a row tonight?) (Odds are they can't, but one lives in hope.)

The biggest one, and I've almost overlooked this with everything else, has to do with that whole issue with my hand/thumb and the tendinitis and the shot, remember?

It seems to be ... better. The shot may have ... helped. Last I remember, I twanged the tendon viciously once over the weekend, and minorly a couple of times. I can't remember hitting it wrong on Monday. Since then? Not too bad. I stopped wearing the splint. And it seems to be ... not hurting. I don't feel that I have quite the full range of motion, but just not having that sudden intense pain is ... nice.

I would be much more excited, would care much more, except that since Harold died, it's kind of hard to find anything else very important. I don't feel much about this news. It's more like, intellectually, I know it's a good thing. I don't really care ... but I know I probably will, someday.

There's knitting, too. Monday at stitch and bitch, I wound this Rhinebeck yarn, with cowls in my mind:

Last night I cast on, experimenting. We're supposed to have sun this weekend, so hopefully I can get a good shot in progress. It's going pretty well so far.

Looking forward, I see a 2-day work week followed by five count 'em five days off. (Taking Wednesday as a vacation day, then Thursday and Friday we get for Thanksgiving.) Whew! Is that ever going to feel good. (Then it's three weeks of work followed by Christmas already, ack/yay combined.)

And looking yet farther ahead, the hockey fans among you (hello? anyone?) will already know that Boston is the site of this season's NHL outside game, the Winter Classic, on New Year's Day. It is rumored/assumed that tickets will be both wicked expensive and way hard to get, which is why when I heard that the Bruins alumni were having a game there January 2nd, with extremely reasonable prices, I decided, count me in for that! So will I see you at Fenway Park six weeks from Saturday?

I'm not the only crazy one, you know: the tickets went on sale to the public today, but they were pre-offered to season ticket holders yesterday, and sold 12,000. So there's that.

I'm off to watch the game. Thank you all for the kind words and well-wishes. It all helps. Have a good weekend!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Oy, what a year

So! Have the last twelve months sucked for everybody, or just me?

I know, egocentric much. It isn't really all about me. Well, maybe on this blog it is, but anyway. Beyond that, even, I have a question to put to the audience: if you were asked, "what has been the worst year of your life so far?", would you be able answer immediately, or would you have to think about it?

Before this year, I would have answered without hesitation, 1999. My friend Pat died, my cousin Paul died. I moved, from the house Pat and I shared to an apartment. I switched from working at one Barnes & Noble to another, which was a mess. Not everything about that year was awful, but those two deaths and two difficult changes color my memory of the year. I have to think hard to remember, Mum and I went to PEI that year! It was fun! And, well, there must have been other good things.

Now, of course, my answer would be 2009*, leading me to wonder what it is about me and years that end in 9. However, as I said to someone who wondered what my 2019 will be like, I need to live through the rest of this year before I worry about that. And those famous last words were on Monday, when Harold was fine. So, I think we know I'm knocking wood hard enough to dent it, now.

*Assuming that 2009 started at the end of November 2008. The Year of Maximum Suckage is calculated differently, like a fiscal year.

I'm sort of superficially superstitious, but I don't really believe that if I don't knock wood, something bad happens. If I spill salt, I don't throw some over my left shoulder. Breaking a mirror is just a mess to clean up, and I love black cats as much as any others. Yet still, after the year I've had, I'm really nervous about saying that surely the worst has already happened. I mean, I know more bad things could happen. I hope like hell they won't, but it's not like I have nothing left to lose.

Unless you mean my sanity, or my grip. Those are just about ready to go.

A final thought: a year and a half ago, I mused about knowing that Pan was ill, knowing that he could die any time, and how awful that was. I asked the question:
In my situation, do you think you'd rather know, or not know, how long he has left?
And now I know the answer. Unsurprisingly, it totally and completely sucks either way.

So I am going to make Rice Krispie treats, and maybe knit, and watch the rest of the Bruins game. They're leading 2-0, can they keep it up?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

What Happened to Harold

He Was Fine

He was fine when I got home Monday after stitch and bitch.

He was fine as I went about the evening, pet the kitties, feed the kitties, look at the mail. On the computer, trying to ignore the bad Bruins game, looking for a pattern on Ravelry, having some ice cream. I trimmed Miri's claws for the first time in a while, since she was starting to "stick" to soft surfaces again. In fact, I pricked my finger cleaning up the clippings, and it was like a needle. (She was Not Amused, and I had to alternate between scruffing her and holding her down. But she doesn't hold a grudge, thank heaven, and she really needed it.)

He was fine when I got into bed, around 10:15, he was already lying there and he let me pet him, and purred, while I read for a few minutes. I turned off the light, and a few minutes later, he jumped down. Not unusual.

When someone started throwing up a few minutes later, I turned on the light to see who it was, and it was Harold. It is highly unusual for him to vomit, and I laid back and wondered whether as he got older, it might become a more common thing (as it was with a previous cat).

He threw up, walked here, gagged, walked there, threw up, laid down. Miri was following him around to see what was up. Clearly, things weren't right, but I wasn't sure how serious it was, or whether to do anything. He went out of the bedroom again.

A minute later, from the other room, an awful moan of a meow pulled me up and out of bed, calling his name. He was lying on the rug in the bathroom, lying wrong. There was a BM a few feet away. He kept moaning. I tried to pick him up, and his back legs hung down, heavy and limp, and he meowed so loudly, so painfully, that I put him back down and started to scramble into sweats and shoes and grabbed the carrier. He didn't fight it at all, just kept up that godawful moan every few seconds. Miri was dancing around in the background, clearly wanting to know what was wrong.

I talked to him during that awful forever drive to the emergency vet, which probably took 10-15 minutes but seemed endless. Not only was he moaning, he was thrashing around like he would fight his way out of the carrier. It was miserable.

The vet took him back to examine him, then came to hear what happened. I told her, and she said that while she'd have to examine him, it sounded very much like he threw a blood clot, which had paralyzed his back legs, and if so, the prognosis was very bad. They got my permission to sedate him for the pain, and in order to be able to examine him further, and in the end that was it. The treatment has a very low success rate (under 10%, she said), and he would be in terrible pain. How could I?

When I saw him again, though he was sedated, he was still moaning, more quietly, but still. It was a heartbreaking sound.

My baby.

It's an awful thing to walk out of the vet with an empty carrier. Feeling that this must be a bad dream, knowing it isn't.

When I got home, Miri was waiting for me. Where is he, what happened, where is he? I put down the empty carrier and pretended it wasn't there. I don't see it, it's not there, this isn't real, this isn't happening.

I cleaned up the vomit. I turned on the computer, sending e-mails to spread the bad news to family, and to my boss to tell her I would be in late in the morning. Since it was after 1 AM, that seemed a safe bet.

Miri walked around, meowing. Looking for Harold.

I got in bed, started to cry, got up, watched crappy TV for a little while, went back to bed. Turn off the brain, let the Tylenol PM do its work. Sore head, sore eyes, sore heart.

The worst words are "never" and "the last".

I'll never sit with Harold on my lap again.

Monday was the last time he met me at the door.

I'll never have to choose between moving him out of the center of the bed, or sleeping around him.

I'll never try to reassure him that the big scary noise outside is not going to get him. He never really believed me, but I would always try.

I'll never bury my face in his fur, on a day when the windows were opened, and smell that fresh-air fur smell, or pet him in the sun and feel the sun-hot fur.

I try to paper over all the last times. I went to Target, which is near the emergency vet, so that takes care of the "the last time I drove here". I've done the "last time I cleaned the litter box", the "last time I came home to him". I'm past "this time yesterday" but not "this time last week". And of course, this time last year I had Pan and Harold. And Dad. If you had told me, on November 17th of 2008, that in the next twelve months I would lose Pan, Harold, and my father ... well, I guess precognition is a curse after all.

Sometimes I walk like a badly greased robot, off-balance and out of sync. Or I'll be standing still, at the copier, or in the shower, and feel like I'm about to fall over, though I don't. My equilibrium is off.

My head feels fuzzy, but when it clears like fog breaking, misery hits hard.

I try to deny the "should-have" thoughts, but they edge their way in. I should have given him a lap the whole evening. I should have known when he started throwing up that something was wrong. I stomp on the thoughts, and they pop up again.

It helps a lot to know that some people understand what this means to me, that I feel bereaved.

funny pictures of cats with captions

There are a lot of people in the world who will reply to, "My cat died last night," with something like, "Oh, that's too bad." And they mean it, the same way they'd mean it if you said, "I was in a fender-bender last night," or "Coming out of the grocery store, I dropped the bag with the eggs and every single one broke." Meaning, what a shame.

Then they glance at the red, puffy eyes again and are puzzled. So? Isn't it just a cat? Couldn't you get another one? they seem to think.

To the well-meaning but not-really-animal-loving colleague, who knew about Harold, and who told me on Tuesday afternoon that I looked sad, that would be because I am sad. You lose points.

To the colleague who didn't know, and asked me why I looked unhappy lately, you're right, and you know me pretty well. Add points.

(I do manage normal conversations; I'm not walking around clutching a tissue and sniffling all the time. In both cases, I was standing at the copier, in zone-out mode, and not trying to put on a good face.)

I haven't been without a lap cat since 1998.

Miri's a nice cat, and affectionate in a wary, on-her-own-terms way, but not a lap cat. After ten months, I accept that that's just the way she is. Not a cuddler. Nothing wrong with that, until I lost my cuddlebuggy.

The reason I was inspired to rearrange my bedroom furniture was that I wanted to get more sun on the bed. It was the second weekend I was sick, the sun was out, and I felt like curling up in it, like a cat, but it only hit a corner of the bed. I thought that if I moved the bed there, and the dressers here, and so on, more sun would be on the bed more often, which would please both me and the cats, since I also remembered how Harold loved to sit on the bed by the sunny window where we lived before: he was always there.

I moved the bed Friday night. Saturday, it rained. Sunday morning was overcast. Monday morning was gray too.

Tuesday morning I sat on the bed, in the sun, without Harold.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Spelling It Out

I am putting this out to the universe:

I am looking for a job as a proofreader.
I am looking for a company that is hiring a proofreader.
In Boston, or north/northwest of Boston.
A company that values the work I can do, and do well.
That will pay me a wage I can live on. And health insurance.
I am a proofreader, looking for someone who needs me.


For some reason, when I say to myself, "I want to be a proofreader," for some reason I don't understand, I hear it as though I am saying, "I want to be ... a lumberjack!"

Who can explain that?

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Very Cranky

I've been trying to look on the bright side and all, focus on the fact that I'm starting to feel better finally, but honestly. I went to print something today and my printer seems to be broken. It worked fine last time, but this time it says there's a paper jam, even when there's no paper in it. I went online and tried various things, but it just isn't working. Damn it.

The least setback sends me back into that spiral, my wrist still hurts, which makes it harder to do EVERYthing, and I'm trying but it's hard, and my nose is running, and the place is a mess, and now I can't even print.

The plus side is that Cartoon Network is running a Looney Tunes marathon today. Bugs Bunny makes me feel better.

Still. Shit.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

A Quick Update

Want to hear something weird?

I'm not feeling all that sick.

No, really, only two weeks of it and I feel like I may be mostly better. How funny is that?

Last night, I had enough energy to start a "rearrange the bedroom" project I thought of last weekend. I got the main pieces done, and am still working out the details. I like it better already, which is promising. The cats were very surprised, but they acclimated well, and are curled up together on the bed now. And the next time the sun comes out, whenever that is, and they can sleep on the bed in the sun, I expect their approval will be complete.

Today, of course, it poured. All day. But I got six loads of laundry done, all clothing, the size of the pile a result of not doing any laundry the last two weekends. I'm pretty tired now, but it's closer to a normal end-of-day tired than I've had recently. I look forward to couch and hockey game tonight. Tomorrow? Who knows.

But hope springs eternal, doesn't it?

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Still Congested, After All These Years

It's a new day in the thumb saga, because on Monday the doctor told me that it could take 3-10 days to determine if the shot helps (ten! whimper). So of course today, three days later, I am ... hopeful. Or certainly watchful. Wondering.

The bruise is fading, and there is a very slight bump where the shot went. It doesn't even look swollen or scary, just wrong, in the "I just know" way: something is different from the way it usually is. I had an experience of that many years ago, in fact, when I woke up one day to see that the bridge of my nose was swollen. Not "oh my god what's wrong with her" swollen, just wider than usual. For no discernible reason. It was very weird.

Anyway, I had the splint off today after washing my hands and moved the wrong way and ow, we are not healed yet. Waiting is hard, but at least the hope is still there.

In cold news (not the weather kind, the health kind), yes, I'm still congested. You were expecting that to change? And yes, I've tried decongestants, with no noticeable improvement. It does seem to be getting slowly better, emphasis on the slow part. Last night I didn't need a cough drop to get to sleep, or get back to sleep! This is super good news, as I loathe the mentholated cough drops, and granted they work, but it's hard to get to sleep while gagging on the flavor.

I'm sort of tempted to call the doctor's office and ask them if there's anything else I can DO about the congestion. I haven't yet, because I'm pretty sure the answer would be "give it time, rest, drink plenty of fluids, blah blah blah."

But I'm also a little scared that they would suggest ... a Neti pot, and I just can't. I can't. My squeamishness is large enough to need its own zip code (have you noticed that about me?), and if you use one and it's like a little miracle, more power to you, but I just ... can't. Ew. I get queasy just thinking about it.

Anyway, I felt a little closer to my usual self today, which gives me hope that things could be improving. I'm never going to be the Energizer Bunny, but give me the stamina to do laundry this weekend, all right? I don't think I'm asking too much.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

A Change is as Good as...

There's only so long that I can write about the continuing congestion and thumb pain around here. So let's think about something else today. It's Veteran's Day in the US, and I found this aww-inducing page of videos of dogs greeting their returning soldiers. You don't have to be a dog person to enjoy this.

I mean really.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Update Update

Health Update
Still congested. Still coughing (having to pop a mentholated cough drop in the Starbucks line is really wrong). Still kind of tired, and totally really utterly sick of being sick. Day eleven!

Thumb Update
Still sore. Has a bruise, roughly an inch long and sort of arrowhead-shaped, at the base of the thumb. Really ready for that shot to work. Because it will work! The power of positive thinking will make it so!

Work Update
Um. I quote from the Miss Conduct chat last week; I think this says all I should say about work:
"Don't burn a bridge, even one that leads to the Isle of Idiot."
Evening Plans
Dinner is in the oven (chicken, which will accompany rice pilaf and peas). The Bruins game is on (they won on Saturday, playing their best solid game of the season; can they make it two in a row?). Have a pretty picture, and a nice evening.

Monday, November 09, 2009

The Mostly Bulleted Update

  • I'm feeling better, but still congested. When the nurse called me in today and I had to actually talk, repeatedly, I Could Not stop coughing. To the point where she asked if I needed water. I'm really glad to feel some better, but on Day Ten, the idea of life without congestion is intriguing.
  • The doctor's examination hurt. I know it had to, since he had to see where the hand hurts, but ow.
  • The shot Really hurt. Again, naturally, since in order for it to solve the problem (and apparently it's 9 chances out of 10 that it will) the shot has to go in the owie part, but still. OW!
  • They gave me a more serious splint that will better immobilize the thumb, since the shot will take a few days to sink in. Temperamentally, the new guy is less "maybe you shouldn't move too much that way", and more "YOU WILL NOT MOVE!" It really keeps me from moving my thumb, and I can hardly move my wrist either. Which, I know, is the point, but still. Awkward!
Old one:

New one:

  • You know what's awkward with this splint? Blowing my nose. Good thing I don't have to do that much. (Fun fact: on Saturday, I started applying Vaseline lotion around my nose, where the skin was peeling off. Also, yesterday, I bought more tissues with lotion. Between the two, my nose is doing much better, though objectively, I don't like the feel of those tissues. My nose does, though!)
  • Also awkward? Using a staple remover. Guess what I needed to do all day long?
  • It's also difficult to find a comfortable resting position for the arm in the splint. I'm hoping this is underlying discomfort from the actual shot, and will resolve in time. In the meantime, I spent most of the day with it at my side, but sticking forward as if I was about to shake everyone's hand. Which could not be farther from my plans.
The staple-removing project has me quite bored, but also irritated (see, I can multi-task). It involves scanning stacks of old records, so what I'm spending most of my time doing is: un-staple pages, take them to copier, scan them, return to desk, open e-mail, open pdf, check pages, save pdf, re-staple pages. Repeat.* Sometimes the copier breaks a batch into 2 groups, and I have to insert pages to get them into one document. Riveting, right?

*When I was a kid, there was a sign on our fridge that said, "For this I spent four years in college?" I didn't get it then.

Yet hear me complain when the copier suddenly throws me a curve, and takes my 8-page batch and e-mails me a TIFF of the first page, instead of a PDF of all 8 pages. WTF?

Also, when you are using the scanner All Day Long, you get angry out of all proportion at the people who take print-outs from the tray and leave what isn't theirs on top of the printer, instead of putting the paper in the hanging basket six inches from the top of the printer. Thank you for leaving that special task for me!

Oh, one more bullet point:
  • He wants me to come back in six weeks. Know when that is? Christmas week! Sorry for the scare, but can you believe that?
Let's end on a happier note than that. Have a toe pic!

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Finally, Some Improvement

No, I'm not 100% yet, but finally I'm feeling better. The congestion, though still with me, is breaking up (leading to that ultra-disgusting symptom, the "productive" cough, ew gross), and I summoned the energy to leave the house today.

In fact, I took myself to Outback for a yummy meal, then had the energy for a quick trip into Petsmart and a long trip into Walmart. I knocked the stuffing out of that list, man, though I didn't get everything. But when the bill is around $100 after the $14.20 in coupons is taken off, well, you know I got most of it.

Sadly, though, I learned that Wally-world doesn't put their shower curtain liners in the otherwise-ubiquitous plastic bags, but on little hangers. Harold would have been shocked! He will have to wait for a new bag a little longer.

The outing was good, but it about wore me out. I could totally use another day to this weekend.

Friday, November 06, 2009

Thank Holy Deity It's Finally the Weekend

I know, and I only worked three days! But being sick is wearing, too, and I've been sick for 7 days now, 8 if you count last Friday's "hmm my throat is a bit sore" day.

I don't feel any better today, though someone told me that my eyes look better than they did, or rather not as bad, so hopefully things are improving behind the scenes. I'm prepared to sleep through another weekend if necessary, though I would sure appreciate enough energy to do things like the laundry that didn't get done last weekend, and the dishes that are piling up in that way they have.

In the meantime, my boss let me leave at 4, which was nice of her, so I've had dinner and am ready to curl up with some ice cream and relax before bed.

This sort of throat situation makes me realize how much I talk to myself. I'm really having trouble not narrating myself through my life, but when I start, I start coughing, so the conditioning is wearing me down. Nothing I've taken so far helps much with the congestion, and since I can't breathe fully through my nose, and when I breathe through my mouth it dries the throat out further, it's rather a mess all around.

I also miss singing along with the radio.

And not being treated like Typhoid Mary. When I told someone at work I was sick and she reacted by stepping closer, patting my back, and saying poor thing, it was a nice change from people stepping back at my approach.

Mind you, I do understand why they step back, and I've done the same thing with sick people, but it's not really fun to be on the receiving end, and after three days of it, I feel rather defensive. I'm not trying to endanger anyone else's health, just keep my job. I stayed out for 2 days, but after being sick for 4, and feeling slightly better, and not wanting to field any more calls from work... I mean, my boss was not one of the people this week telling me I should stay home longer.

I don't have the flu*. I don't have a fever. I'm washing my hands, coughing and sneezing into tissues, and applying Purell frequently. I'm doing everything I can not to spread this around. Just trying to get some work done, that's all.

*Not that I feel the need to go to the germ-covered doctor's office and pay $20 for an official diagnosis. No fever, no body aches, no flu. Doctor Google told me so. Tired and congested sounds like your basic cold to me. (Is there a doctor in the house?) And I'm resting and drinking plenty of fluids. There!

And now I can relax. Have a lovely weekend!

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Grump Update

I still feel sick. Congested, really tired. My boss asked why I don't go to the doctor, but I'm sure all he would say is rest and drink fluids. I'm doing that. Stupid cold.

My thumb/hand/wrist still hurts. I just tweaked it and had to sit down for a minute. Stupid tendinitis. (I get the steroid shot Monday. Please let that help.) The list of things that are awkward, difficult, or virtually impossible to do with one hand grows daily. Just for fun, try brushing your hair left-handed tonight. Or your teeth. Try to pull on a shirt without moving your thumb or wrist, or letting any weight pull on that arm. Try to pull a glove on your other hand without using that thumb. Try to wash your left arm with your left arm, next time you shower. It's a new game! It's fun!

The Bruins are not doing so well. They keep ... losing. It's not really fun to watch. They're losing tonight, and the only goal so far was scored by a former Bruin. They just can't score (they've been shut out in their last two, and half of this one so far). And David Krejci has swine flu. Really.

On the (faint) bright side, tomorrow is Friday already! Funny how spending so much time in a fog moves the week along. Plus--it's time for ice cream! I bet that will help the coughing. And if not, well, it will make me feel better.

Wednesday, November 04, 2009

Wiped Out, Can't Talk, Otherwise OK

I worked almost a full day today, sensing that 2 days' absence was about as much as my boss could take without her head exploding.* I did feel a bit better today, or at least less rotten, though I slept badly last night. Enough with the coughing! It woke me over and over. I can't talk now without setting it off, and I sound throaty and unlike me. I will drug myself thoroughly tonight, as I simply must sleep.

*No one at work knows about my blog, so I'll tell you a secret: I'm planning to start looking for a new job. I'd like to get back to proofreading. And away from certain aspects of my current job. I should probably stop there.

In fact, I think that's about it for tonight. Thank you for all well-wishes, keep the good karma coming, can't wait for some energy to return ... me-me go night-night now.

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Oy. Enough with the Sick already

Yeah, still sick. Day Four (and that's not counting Friday, when I had a slight sore throat but otherwise felt fine).

Shall we review my major accomplishments of the last 4 days?
  • ran the dishwasher on Sunday
  • went to the grocery store on Sunday!
  • emptied the dishwasher, on Monday
  • went to work for about an hour Monday, to put together some month-end metrics
Today? Uh... I think my biggest accomplishment was when I realized someone could market a great service to sick people who live alone: they come in, cook something, wash your dishes, get you some juice, and leave. I mean, if you don't have family nearby, and don't want your friends to see you like this, not to mention don't want to get them sick, why not hire someone? I don't even mind if they wear a mask, or a biohazard suit for that matter. Bonus if they clean the litter boxes. Considering the effort it was to boil water for pasta, I would pay someone to do that for me, while I stayed on the couch or in bed.

This is getting old, though.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Send Chicken Soup

I am sick.

This is not what I had in mind for the weekend. Spending days in bed sounds appealing, but not when it's because you don't have the energy to sit up, let alone stand, for very long.

I'm trying to summon my energy to go to the grocery store. Wish me luck!