wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
After the dentist and dinner, I stayed up later than planned last night, finishing this. If no one buys it, I'm tempted to add a girl curled up, reading a book, in the biggest bubble, but I like the painting as-is, and besides, I can't paint up a decent person anywhere near as fast as I can do a flower or tree!

If you'll be there this evening stop by the Midwinter Faire and paint with me! Or maybe we can find time to get together in the Cafe and paint--there'll be musicians playing there on and off, if previous years are any indication.

And sketchfest is this weekend, so even if you're not there, we can, perhaps, do some art together virtually.

Here's the finished painting, with watermark. I think the photo is a little blurry--some of the details just aren't showing up. Oh, well. Maybe I can get a better photo (or at least some detail photos) at the con.

wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
So, we have this room off the TV room, either a very large closet or a very small room. The ancient carpet in it resisted being pulled when we moved in, so we left it there. We put the cat box in it, and plants, and some logs for the cats to climb on. Sadly, eventually an elderly feline started leaving messes there when the cat box wasn't as clean as he wanted. So the carpet had to go.

I've been working at cleaning the remaining carpet pad, which was glued (by intent or entropy) to the wood, up, a little every day. I got mad at something the current tweeter-in-chief did and overdid it a few days ago, and had several days where my wrist hurt. Last night, I got back to the painting, but not for long--after a while, even painting with my tiniest brush was more than I could do. But, I got her face and the imaginary friend roughed in.



Today, after getting the headlight fixed on the car (and it's 100,000 mile tuneup), I picked up some potting soil and seed starter (I have a lovely garden plot to plant in, after all), paid the bills (it hurt to write and type even more than it hurt to paint, over the last couple of days), and got back to painting.

The photos aren't great--I was holding the painting in one hand and the cell phone in the other--but at least you can see the progress I'm making.



So far, I have the goat and the necessary three of the other items for the challenge: the humanoid child, the imaginary friend, and the bubbles. I'm considering whether I should bother with the flag or the balance-scales. The humanoid kid does need a bubble-wand and jar of bubble-soap still, and work on the face. There will also certainly be more bubbles. I'm enjoying the bubbles.

And I'm really glad my wrist isn't hurting any more! It might even have healed faster if I wasn't too angry at watching Mitch McConnell officially silence Elizabeth Warren on the Senate floor for milder language than all the guys get away with using. That man needs his grandma to tell him she's ashamed of him. I sent a fax, but somehow I doubt it will have the same impact as a nice visit from Grandma Marley's ghost would. Or am I mashing up my stories too much? Still, it's not a bad daydream, and a better thought for bedtime than dwelling on the reality.

But regarding the painting, as always, comments and suggestions are welcome.
wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
When I was a kid I loved fall. Lovely, beautiful leaves, harvesting whatever I managed to grow over the summer, a chance to dress up, to dream past the narrow paths thought safe for a schoolgirl.

Now, I'm not so fond of fall. It means the season of asthma-exacerbation and ice-underfoot is coming. But now that Facebook is showing me my posts from years past, I see how much of it is really about my personal experience of the season--fall is cold/flu/bronchitis/sinus infection season, rather than just anticipation of winter. I don't post about being sick much, because it's boring and really, when I feel crappy, I want to come online to be distracted from it. But still, there've been an awful lot of posts lately from however many years ago that mention me being sick.

It would tempt me to just be a hermit until the new year, except this is also the season of OVFF, Windycon, Chambanacon, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and inevitably additional chances to spend time with my blood and chosen family. And there's never enough of those.

wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
So we went back to the pharmacy today to get the remainder of the prescription for Mystique that they had to give us a partial fill for, and the one that they said wasn't due yet. And got two partial prescriptions--the rest of the one, and five days of the next one. So now we have to go back yet again, even though they knew three days ago that we would be wanting to fill it today. But apparently the computer doesn't check inventory for a thing until the insurance will pay for it, so (the pharmacist explained) the fact that we told them we wanted to pick up the medication today didn't matter, because they didn't know they didn't have enough of it until we got there to find that they hadn't even tried to fill it until we were waiting at the window. Oh yeah, apparently telling them three days ago that we wanted the pills today didn't even get them to schedule filling it, the computer's not set up for that either.

The whole point, for me, of getting three months' prescriptions is that I can sit down and fill a month or more worth of weekly things all at once, when I'm rested and focused, and be sure they're right. 5 days worth (the most Walgreens will give if they have to give a partial) wouldn't let me fill even one week.

The things that work, more or less, when someone takes one or two pills a day just aren't functional for someone who has to take a lot of pills.

*sigh*

At least I don't need to set up all the meds today, and I can hope they'll get the rest of the pills in tomorrow.

In better news, I'm trying to train the kitten to play fetch. She actually brought the crinkly toy to me three times in a row. Now, she's looking from my hand to the toy, but not bringing me the toy. Was the run of three an accident? Or is she getting the idea, but also getting tired? Only time will tell.
wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
So, there I was, happily writing on the current novel, when I realized we had to leave right away (in the middle of a climactic scene!) or we'd miss Mystique​'s doctor appointment. The sun was shining, the cats were playing, and all was well with the world. Well, the outer world. In the world of the novel, all was definitely not well, and was quickly getting worse. I was excited to see how things would play out, and my fingers were flying on the keyboard.

Oh, well, no help for it but to get up and go. Good doctors are like mothers. The more you reliably show up when they want to see you, the easier it is to convince them that there is a real emergency when one happens.

So then it was drive and drive and wait and wait and see the nice doctor (who really is a nice woman) and talk about all the routine boring things that people with chronic illness have to talk to their doctors about.

After that, a quick stop at the natural foods store that is just a couple of blocks from the doctor's office (well, that was the plan). This trip was mostly for my food, so a "quick stop" meant reading all the ingredients (in temporal duplicate) to make very sure there's nothing in the food that I'm allergic to and none of the manufacturers have changed their recipes. Then get in line. Wait and wait. Tell the checker that the fruit isn't black or red plums, it's pluots. Pack stuff into the bags we brought. Then to the pharmacies.

Oh, but first, rush hour traffic. Drive and wait, drive and wait, and then drive and wait some more. I've read that some people plan out their novels while driving; I don't know how they can do that. I'm just fine with talking on my cell phone (hand-free) while driving. That isn't more distracting to me than talking to someone who's physically in the car. But plotting novels? I tried it once, and I got so very, very lost. I do zone out while reading, and apparently also while writing, even the purely mental part of the process. Being totally uninterested in experiencing an automobile accident first-hand, I'm not trying that one again. So, when the rush hour traffic devolved into coast and brake, coast and brake, over and over and OVER again, all it did was waste time.

Then the pharmacies. (Wait--I said that already, and now you're wondering about the plurality.) One pharmacy has a pharmacist who's very helpful, but a computer system that loses one of the doctors' prescriptions. They're not perfect; the pharmacist has been unable to get one of my medicines for over a month, unless I want to buy the brand name at full price instead of the generic with the help of my insurance (though if I was completely out of it, they might approve me making a copay for the brand name at this point). But the nice pharmacist is working on that. The other pharmacy gets the one doctors' prescriptions reliably, but is less helpful in other ways. Happily, Mystique's insurance will cover prescriptions at both locations (unlike mine).

Recently, Mystique's insurance suggested she move to getting most of her meds on a three-month basis instead of every month. That's a good thing, except there seems to always be one or another prescription that gets filled for one month, either due to pharmacy error or a doctor's error in filling out the electronic prescription form, which apparently defaults to a one month prescription. So, go to one place, wait while they fix the one that was filled for only one month, then to the other to find out they didn't fill all of the prescriptions, only about half, so we'll have to wait a half hour while they do their thing. While waiting, get a call from the first place that one of the bottles didn't get put back into the bag when they were fixing the one filled for 30 days instead of 90. Circle back to get the missing bottle, then back again to get the last of the prescriptions, but one of the newly filled prescriptions was only filled for one month! *sigh* How on earth do people who are too sick to think straight or who just lack mental spoons manage?

Eventually, we got home to put groceries away and figure out dinner, and I was very pleased that my reusable cloth bag collection includes a couple of insulated zippered things designed for carrying cooked or cooled stuff to parties or picnics. The stuff we got frozen at the grocery store was still frozen when we finally arrived home.

The cats, who think we should stay home and pet, play with, and feed them on demand all day, were not impressed.



Now I'm yawning, a reminder that I need to make an appointment to try on CPAP masks, since I lost enough weight that the one I've been using isn't fitting so well any more. But it's too late to do that today!

And my poor characters, who are in the middle of confronting the faceless opponent who has been causing them misery for many chapters now, are likely to stay that way until tomorrow. Hang in there, folks, you'll figure it out, I have faith in you.
wyld_dandelyon: (Polychrome Wizard)
So I got up last week and wanted to wear shorts and something sleeveless (but not one of my fringed t-shirts, which are fun, but not so much when I'm out with garden snips). The urge to shorts was prompted by the fact that controlling blood sugar has led to a somewhat thinner me, enough so that my skirts that used to be out of the way now are loose enough to hang low on my hips and be in danger of being stepped on going up stairs or trying to use a large shovel. (Also, cutting all the gluten and corn out of my diet means I'm not always afraid that putting on something that's tight around my belly will end up being painful or exacerbating gastrointestinal discomfort. I still love skirts and dresses, but other things are less likely to be uncomfortable now.)

Now, I could do a bit of sewing and put new waistbands on the skirts, but that takes time and is only worth the effort on skirts that I plan to wear for something more fun than digging up weed trees, painting my porch, and pulling smaller weeds. So I got in the car and drove to the thrift store, where I gathered a bag of cool things (some cool in terms of summer comfort only, and others cool in terms of being styles I am very pleased to wear. I then came home, my head full of images of the kinds of clothes that I can now fit into or will soon be able to fit into if I keep losing weight, and attacked my closet, pulling out quite a few things that are now too big and relegating them to a new destiny, that of being heartlessly abandoned at the thrift store.

It's not as if I didn't know, before, that I had reached a size where a lot of the fun clothes I love just weren't made in my size, but that knowledge didn't inspire me to eat differently.

You know, I always would have told you that I cared more about my brains than my looks, but didn't realize the proof would be so easily acquired once a doctor told me I had blood sugar problems and I realized (by changing my diet drastically in the weeks before I could get a new primary doc and get that treated medically) that the high blood sugar was affecting my higher brain function. I am writing more now, because my brain is once again holding all the bits needed to shape a story properly; heck, I can even see the difference in my facebook comments!

I'm well aware of the dangers of diabetes--I have a friend whose mantra in the gym, repeated rhythmically, is, "I want to keep my feet." Not getting the blood sugar under control is not an option if I want to continue to be able to walk and do art and see. But bringing it down had an unexpected and immediate effect on my mental acuity that (in my mind) trumped all of those other things. Now, when I look at simple carbs, it's a lot like looking at wheat and corn--when I feel tempted, I think of the results of eating the way I used to and the temptation vanishes. I do sometimes feel sad, but not tempted. I have no doubt at all that it's not worth the consequences. That never happened when I looked at cute dresses and thought it would be nice to be thinner so I could wear them. I guess I have my priorities!

But that doesn't keep me from enjoying packing away all the fat lady dresses (wait--where did that phrase come from? Oh, never mind, it's apt enough, and I'm not judging anybody, not even my former self) into plastic grocery bags and then into the trunk of my car. It also doesn't keep me from feeling glee at going through the old clothes I couldn't fit into but couldn't bear to get rid of (after washing the attic mustiness away) and finding I fit into clothes that haven't been seen on my body since before I became a Mom. Some of those are going into the trunk too, but a lot are going into drawers or my closet so I can enjoy them again.

And as I look at all of the clothes, I'm seeing them differently in other ways too. All the drab office casual stuff that served as a work costume, telling people I was competent and serious and professional, all that can go now, since I'm aiming to be a totally different kind of professional, one where a drab disguise isn't necessary. Not that I wasn't professional and competent and taking people's legal issues seriously, of course I was--and still am--all of those things. But I am so much more than that, and there's joy in embracing that as well.

Later this week, after I finish going through the stuff I dragged down from the attic, I'll take a trunkload (or more--the trunk is nearly full already) of stuff to the thrift store. I hope those clothes will bring someone else joy, as they did me when I needed them, but even if no one else wants them, I'm glad to be giving them away. I have no regrets and no doubts about moving into a future without them.

And that's pretty cool, in and of itself.
wyld_dandelyon: (guitar gloves)
In fact, I can see it from my window. How cool is that? I won't get to watch the whole thing--the moon will drop below the horizon all too soon. Still, I got to see it with my eyes, and without the intermediary of a computer or television screen.

That's something I couldn't do during the last few eclipses due to cloud cover. I had to satisfy myself with other people's pictures, taken in other parts of the world. But just as there's a special magic in being able to do that, there's also a special magic in being able to see it here.

(pause for sleepy moon-watching)

So, I had to go to the attic eventually, since the moon dropped behind the houses across the street, and then watched it vanish--not at totality, really, just slivered to the point where the pre-dawn light and the tree limbs between me and it obscured it quite handily.

(pause to watch the total eclipse online, and to fall asleep on the couch, to be awakened by the wise advice that it's better to sleep in bed, and by a day's work of chores and errands)

I wonder, if I could live forever, or at least for thousands of years, would I reach a point where I was bored by things like eclipses, or tulips opening in the spring, or the taste of a perfectly ripe strawberry?

I don't mean, if I reach a point where I can't see or smell the perfect beauty of the first rose of spring, and can't taste the butter melting into my potato, and can't enjoy sleeping and waking due to pain and infirmity--it's not boredom if the body can't take in things properly, that's something else altogether.

But would I get bored if I were perfectly healthy, but had just experienced so many meals and flowers and strange phenomena that I didn't care?

I don't think so. It's a very personal answer, of course, but looking back, the times I didn't appreciate the little things as much as I normally do were all times, in retrospect, that I was sick or exhausted (and usually both). And even then, it was more like not seeing the sun rise because of the fog.

You'd think I'd remember this faster, when I'm having trouble focusing and finding the joy in getting things done, with all my experience with chronic illness--but that's the thing about chronic illness, it's sneaky. It's not like breaking your leg, it's like an eclipse. Things seem perfectly normal, then just a little off, and you never quite see a moment of discontinuity, a moment when there's a big change, it's just at some point, you realize not only have things been changing, but the change is dramatic and significant.

And unlike the eclipse, chronic health issues don't just go away. You have to do something about them.

But that's another post altogether.

This post is about appreciating the good things in life--the playfulness of a cat, the taste of halapeno jack cheese, the green smell of spring returning to the world, and soon, the soft gold of dandelions in the sun.

And stories--stories of cats and dragons and magic, of love and truth and kindness, and always, always, stories of people.

But for tonight--check out that moon! Isn't it cool?
pictures! )
wyld_dandelyon: (Feeling Creative Cat)
I've got new icons! [livejournal.com profile] djinni finished the last set of icons, and a new "icon day" is open for requests. If you want a new icon, his LJ has a link to his website. The first one is this cat with paintbrush, and the second is:

rainbow kitty running 100x100

It's fun just scrolling through each batch of icons, and even better to add to my personal trove of Djinni-art. It's a good break from the more drudgerly parts of life.

I always dread February bureaucracy. Taxes are no fun, and I always worry that I missed some important detail. The addition of Obamacare deadlines hasn't helped that. Reading through just one insurance plan's details is overwhelming. Trying to compare them is beyond that. I finally resorted to calling the insurance plans, trying to figure out important things like whether my allergist and asthma meds would be covered.

I hate it when it looks like my medicine will be covered, but when I try to figure out exactly how much it will cost, I find a message that it isn't in this plan. Right. Another call. I looked up and told My Angel that there has to be a better way!

Well, this insurance company put me in contact with an insurance agent, who made multiple calls on my behalf before I made a decision--but the decision is made. The next bit of paperwork is taxes, but I'm still awaiting a 1099, so I can put that off at least until after Capricon.

I'm going to be doing the Midwinter Faire at Capricon again, and in honor of my Aunt, who left some black paper behind, I'm going to do spacescapes with whoever stops by my table (unless they request something different). So, I'm going to share some in-progress shots of the painting. I started with a canvas that my Dad had primed with black long ago. I have no idea what he was planning, but I started with a little hint of a nebula and then added a planet.

nebula planet

After I started adding more to the painting, I figured I should back up a bit and get the whole canvas for today's in-progress picture:

space

And now, I should head to bed. There's more to do tomorrow!

But hey--if you'll be at Capricon, stop by the Midwinter Faire and we can art together! I may also be set up in the Capricon Cafe at some point. If you haven't painted before, I'll provide intsructions, and if you have, maybe I can learn something from you.
wyld_dandelyon: (Rainbow Margay Mage)
I know, this is my space, I can do whatever I want here, as much or as little, and so on and so forth. But I do value this space, this connection with other thinking, creating people. And I am not using it as much as I want to.

On the other hand, I'm doing more of window repairs, wall repairs, bathroom repairs, painting and plastering (well, that one's in the wrong order), errands, and stuff like dishes and mopping than I want to be. To say nothing of arranging for things like fixing squirrel damage or cutting down the old dying rowan tree before it falls on my car or somebody's house or garage. Somehow, when I get to the computer I'm tired. It takes a while to get into writing mode and I then try to turn first to fiction, and I rarely get focused for Live Journal after that. (And I won't even mention trips to the dentist.)

I know I will appreciate windows that have been tended prior to winter, and walls that look whole and pleasing, and bathrooms that don't leak, and not having my sparkly purple car crushed, and not having holes in my teeth, etc. Those are all good things, but they're not enough.

Maybe I can change that--at least, the not posting much part. Here's hoping.

In the meantime,

"Hi out there! I'm still here, and glad to see you."
wyld_dandelyon: (Rainbow Margay Mage)
The fever is gone, though I'm still coughing and still napping way too much. However, at least I'm back to adventuring in my dreams.

Chaotically, mind you, but it's a lot better than sleeping bored!
wyld_dandelyon: (Rainbow Margay Mage)
So, I figure you folks deserve an update--I had big plans, once taxes were done, and as you have seen, or more precisely not seen, I haven't been doing the planned world building A-Z ficlets. Of course, I haven't been doing much except for sleep, taking pills, monitoring my temperature, and coughing. I am a lot better than I was on Easter, but am still getting up, making food to take my antibiotics with, and laying back down, exhausted, afterward. I haven't had energy for writing or Sketchfest (the 50th!); I've done some half-hearted re-reading of stories and some half-hearted computer games (with a ludicrous rate of dyslexic mistakes).

There will be more writing, I hope very soon. It's very frustrating, at least in theory, but mostly I'm too tired for even that. And if I can't even keep track of which colored bubble is next, I'd probably muck up any writing too. I don't feel so bad about abysmal gaming; I'd feel much worse about bad writing.

Oh, well, tomorrow I'll call the doctor and see if he's satisfied with my progress so far. I'm not done with the antibiotics yet, but if he has additional advice, I'll be happy to listen.

You all stay well! I don't want to share this misery.

Here goes!

Feb. 18th, 2014 09:25 pm
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
Me to poor, sore stomach: So, what do you want to eat?
Stomach: Meat
Me: We're out of meat. What about soup?
Stomach: All of the soups we have found that have no wheat, corn, or canola oil are vegetarian.
Me: Sad but true. How about mac and cheese? That has protein.
Stomach: Ewwww.
Me: Beans? Lentils? They have protein.
Stomach: I have too much gas already. How about this buffalo jerky?
Me: This hot *cajun spiced* buffalo jerky?
Stomach: Yeah, that sounds good.
Me: You're crazy.
Stomach: No, I'm hungry. You need protein. Eat the buffalo jerky.
Me: But you are already hurting! It's a bad idea.
Stomach: It's the only thing that looks good. Eat it.
Me: ...
Stomach: Trust me. Eat it.
wyld_dandelyon: (Frazzled Moth Artist)
I got a lot of cleaning done Saturday, but clearly inhaled way too much dust. I woke up Sunday with an allergy hangover complete with blinding headache and massive brain-deadedness. I am still much tireder than I think I ought to be. The worst part of it is that it blindsided me--I was feeling pretty good, considering, all day Saturday. I have noticed that the new diet has made a difference in the allergies; mostly this has been a good thing, but apparently that has shifted things so I can't predict when I've had too much allergen exposure as accurately as I used to.

*sigh*

I've managed to get a lot done at the day job, but have been totally out of spoons by the time I get home. The little old lady who wants her story told is glaring at me from the back of my head (but at least she's sticking around).

Where are the brownies when you need them?
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
Jim Hines posted about writing fiction on his lunch hour. I was doing that pretty regularly (with varying amounts of success) until the building where I work opened an exercise room. For people who work there, it's free, and it's right there. Even better, it has a reclining bike, so I've been able to work on strengthening my creaky old knees without having my weight on them.

This has been a good thing for my knees, and for my ability to do stairs. It's not such a good thing for my writing time, however, since now when I get home and some bit of housework that's been undone and bugging the heck out of me presents itself, I'm better able to do the crouching or stair-climbing needed to work at it. Which, of course takes up time that I might have used writing.

Inevitably, this leads to more dust inhaled, which in turn means my allergies act up, which means a tireder Deirdre who doesn't sleep as well as when the allergies and asthma are not acting up.

Complicating this, I obtained a have-a-heart trap, and we caught not one but four squirrels coming into my house. (I hope I didn't cause a problem for one or more of the homeowners near one of the parks out by the car dealerships...) They had a nest behind the siding off the porch that is accessed from the bedroom window, so we've had a handyman clearing it out and fixing the damage done by the critters, thus spreading other allergens in a space I can't really avoid using. I've had to increase my use of the "as-needed" allergy meds to their full dose, and still am feeling the effects.

Although I'm glad to be getting these other things done, it has not been good for my writing process. The past several weeks, I'd get an idea and exercise during lunch, come home and run off to eliminate a squirrel or hunt for a new-to-me car or buy plywood or...well, anything but write, come home to eat dinner and realize I'm brain dead and better take my asthma medicine and go to bed.

*sigh*

There's a girl who loves unicorns who wants me to finish her story, and a new little old lady who has a story to tell me, and a man who's waiting for his new license to arrive and make him legally female so he can get married, and ...

Too bad I can't do some of this other stuff while writing!
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
An unemployed friend has been staying in a place that has been getting, well, less and less comfortable. I don't know the people he's staying with, but I do know that sometimes perfectly nice, reasonable people are mutually much happier not trying to live in the same house, and this could be one of those situations.

On the other hand, I have chronic illnesses (including allergies that make house-upkeep problematic), a demanding full-time job, am trying to keep up with a writing career, and My Angel has not been well for some time. It has occurred to me that another person around to share some of chores (and, for that matter, another person in the house in case My Angel falls again and needs help when I'm not home) would not be a bad thing.

But maybe sometime suddenly became "as soon as possible", so I spent much of the weekend cleaning--first working on the TV room where Angel fell, and which has had too much dust and chaos for some time, and then once the friend showed up, working to clear and clean a room for him. I didn't get as much done as I wanted to and did end up stuffed up and headachy most of the weekend, but overall, I think we got at least the minimum needed so we can have a place for his bed and desk next weekend, including getting a much-needed layer of paint on a couple of walls.

We poured LOTS of dust down the toilet, trapped safely in soapy water. Of course, I also breathed in LOTS of allergens.

Writing time, though--not so much. I needed to pour water over myself and nap after he left.

Here's hoping that in the long run, this leads to more time for writing and less time immersed in dust and soapy water.
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
I'm almost out of Zyrtek, Mucinex, and antibiotics, but the exhaustion and coughing continues. Bleah. I need to buy more distilled water tomorrow too.

Today started the way I've wanted to start every day for the last couple of weeks--sleeping in. It didn't make much difference. By the time I got some food made and swallowed my pills, I was ready for a nap. Never mind that I'm supposed to be making sure I have all my papers together for taxes, and I have a dozen things I want to be writing, and I have two weeks of undone chores from dragging myself in to work and back again and collapsing, all I wanted to do was lay back and close my eyes some more. I've got some great books here waiting to be read, but none held any appeal. Even playing solitaire was too much work. So I closed my eyes for a while.

Then a stray thought occurred to me, and the threat of late charges if I didn't pay bills roused me from my lethargy. No--that's not accurate at all. The lethargy remained, but the checkbook came out and I paid bills anyway.

I looked at the internets a bit, and then felt like closing my eyes a while again, which I did, and now I think I should do a proper job of it and go to bed and get some real sleep behind my face-hugger.

This is really nothing new; just a recurring part of life with the mostly-invisible chronic illnesses that I exist with. But I get frustrated and lonely, and then more frustrated when I find a bit of energy to do something like post here, and this is all I find in my head to write about.

Here's hoping for some energy tomorrow, or even just no more coughing.

Sleep well, everybody. I hope you're feeling better than me!!!
wyld_dandelyon: (outpost picnic)
I've been fighting off some bug, apparently, and it finally left me open to getting a bronchial infection which traveled up into the sinuses. I finally got in to see my doctor this morning, and started antibiotics, and while my head cleared and I became less exhausted feeling, it turned my nose into a faucet. I'm in no shape to enjoy a filk, and certainly don't want to share what I've got.

*sigh*

I missed another recent house filk taking My Angel to have a tooth abscess lanced.

And of course, the disruption of My Angel falling and splitting her head open while I wasn't near enough to help (except over the phone) is still too-fresh in my mind.

I know that I've been dealing with the allergies and asthma and related stuff like being susceptible to these dumb infections for pretty much my whole life, but that doesn't make it less of a drag when it happens.

I know tomorrow I'll be feeling more energetic, and might even be up to going out--but tomorrow, there won't be a filk to go to.

In other news, I got a Kindle Fire, and someone sent me a mobi file, but although the kindle app on my computer can read it, the kindle itself can't. I'm confused! Am I missing something obvious because my brain is infection-addled, or what?
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
So, Sunday and Monday I only ate things I had reason to believe were safe. The foods I ate at work were all things I've been eating safely for weeks, and the dinner, while at a restaurant, was at a restaurant where I've ordered the exact same meal repeatedly and been fine. The only thing I did that I haven't done since being on this diet was go to the dentist, and I did mention the allergies to him--he even checked on the sweetener for the numbing medicine.

So it all should have been fine, right?
Cut for TMI )
Apparently the benefits of not stressing my body all the time with corn and wheat are at least partially offset by having my body be totally unready for a surprise assault.

I wonder if there's anything I could take to help me recover from the (painfully obvious) inflammation through my whole digestive tract the next time this happens?

For the moment, however, I have to figure out what else I can wear that won't press on my belly *at all* for tomorrow at work. 

In better news, these cookies (which I ate several weeks ago, but have not yet blogged about) are great:
wyld_dandelyon: (Disintegrations and Defenestrations! by)
So, Sunday and Monday I only ate things I had reason to believe were safe. The foods I ate at work were all things I've been eating safely for weeks, and the dinner, while at a restaurant, was at a restaurant where I've ordered the exact same meal repeatedly and been fine. The only thing I did that I haven't done since being on this diet was go to the dentist, and I did mention the allergies to him--he even checked on the sweetener for the numbing medicine.

So it all should have been fine, right?
Cut for TMI )
Apparently the benefits of not stressing my body all the time with corn and wheat are at least partially offset by having my body be totally unready for a surprise assault.

I wonder if there's anything I could take to help me recover from the (painfully obvious) inflammation through my whole digestive tract the next time this happens?

For the moment, however, I have to figure out what else I can wear that won't press on my belly *at all* for tomorrow at work. 

In better news, these cookies (which I ate several weeks ago, but have not yet blogged about) are great:
wyld_dandelyon: (a wizard writing)
Last night I realized that my friend Susan Urban was playing as part of February Sky at the local coffeehouse. My Angel wasn't feeling well, having refused to call the dentist for weeks, so I made her eat soup and left her at home. The music was very good, including a new-to-me song about Guenevere:

She gathered her rosebuds while she might, the way the poets urge us all to do.
One kiss from that fair lady's lips might well have launched ten thousand ships,
But she was mindful of the thorns, and gathered only two.

See them perform the song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2To9FW011U

While they played, I worked on the next installment of Wild Snowy Chase.

Angel continued to get worse, her cheek getting all swollen.  She finally made an appointment last week for this upcoming Wednesday, but it was clear that she needed more.  This morning, she stopped refusing to go to Urgent Care, so we got up and headed out to get her antibiotics.  She was supposed to take it with antibiotics, and I was starving, so we stopped at Red Lobster. 

She was all for stopping at McDonalds, but their food hasn't sat well in my stomach for long enough that it doesn't even smell good, and I was too hungry to want to be smelling food that would both remind me of my hunger and make me feel at least vaguely nauseous.
Red Lobster worked out fine for her--they brought her soup right away, so she was able to take the medicine--but not so good for me.  When I asked the waiter about gluten- and corn-free, he brought me an "allergen menu" (a great idea, in and of itself)--but it didn't mention corn.  On top of that, almost nothing was gluten-free, not even the fresh vegetables.  The manager tried to contact their corporate headquarters to see what was on the menu that I could eat, with no luck.  So My Angel got a free bowl of soup and I brought her home to finally get some sleep.

I guess I should stick to smaller restaurants.  At least the ones that cook from scratch don't have to hope the corporate office is open and their computer system functional to be able to tell a person what's in the food.

Then I rummaged to find something to eat here.  It wasn't inspiring, but at least it won't make me sick.  I finally ended up heading back to bed myself.  It's much more restful to sleep next to someone who's actually sleeping!  She's definitely feeling better and the swelling in her face is down.

Now I suppose I should try to finish that story...

Profile

wyld_dandelyon: (Default)
wyld_dandelyon

June 2017

S M T W T F S
    123
4567 8910
11121314151617
181920 21222324
252627282930 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags