Tag Archives: sick

Monday Miscellany

So much stuff stirring around in my brain right now. SO MUCH. That means bullet points for you!

  • Every time I start to exercise regularly–and I mean every fucking time–I get sick. I have head congestion and a runny nose, which makes it impossible to run because I like to breathe. Breathing while running is hard enough when I feel great. JFC, universe!! Do you want me to be fat and lazy? Because that would be easier for me, and if that’s what my destiny is, I can go ahead and give in.
  • I’m going to do some gentle, non-inversiony yoga today. The purpose is to remind my muscles that we do like to move a bit and keep the habit of carving time out of my day to exercise.
  • BUT SERIOUSLY! WTF‽‽‽ This is monumentally unfair.
  • Other important things: I desperately need a job. If you want to pay me money, let me know. I’ll do anything! (Although, I’d prefer to edit or write or proofread. I’ve done a little bit of those things freelance, and would enjoy doing more.) However, if you need someone to do the weird stuff, I can do that, too.

  • After finishing up the edits (and cutting 25,000 words) on The Waning Moon, I decided to reward myself with a little gaming. I’m not much of a gamer (anymore), but there are a few things I like. It’d been a while since I’d played on my PC (I don’t even use the PC for anything–it just sits around getting dusty and storing old photos of the Bean), and it was a PITA to get everything set up. BUT, finally Saturday evening post Bean bedtime, I was in and playing Dragon Age: Inquisition. I’ve killed some stuff, which is a nice break from writing all day where I also have been killing.

  • The Bean and I have been making bread every weekend he’s here. He’s becoming such a great helper (and I’m almost sincere about that now!) and really enjoys kitchen stuff.

 

  • He’ll be five in less than two weeks, and I’m not sure I’m ready. It’s fun watching him grow up and become his own person, but he’s almost too big for me to pick up (I need him to ‘jump’ when I pick him up), and carry, and hold–although we do our best. He’s been extra cuddly lately, and I’m taking advantage of that as much as possible. I know there will come a day when he doesn’t want me to hold him anymore.

  • This week’s focus is getting the crap stuff having to do with The Waning Moon done–synopsis and blurb. It took 130,000 words to tell the story originally–how am I expected to break that down to a couple pages, much less a couple paragraphs? Once I talk about coffee and tacos, I’m out of space!
  • The first newsletter went out last week with an exclusive peek at one of my favorite amusing bits from The Waning Moon, as well as the first chapter of Raj’s story. Sign up now to learn more about our favorite vampire!
  • If you’ve read The Cardinal Gate and are so inclined, I’d be delighted and grateful if you’d review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
  • Of course, if you haven’t read The Cardinal Gate, I’d be even more delighted and grateful if you did! (It’s available on Amazon in paperback, ebook, and Kindle Unlimited.)

 

That’s about enough miscellany for today. Have a great week!

 

Conspiracy Theory

I am a wee bit sick. Not horribly sick, and I’m mostly feeling better; but not at the top of my game. In addition to the mild chest cold that I’m on my way out of (but whose effects will likely last forever and ever amen if I don’t take it easy on my lungs which are prone to bronchitis and pneumonia), we’ve been having a shitty winter.

The Weather Channel rated Portland as the US’s most miserable city for the 2016/17 winter so far. (Not that we’re colder or have more snow than you – I know we don’t – but we have so much more cold or snow than we’re used to, and I don’t care who you are, that’s miserable.)

These two items in conjunction with the fact that I signed up for not one, but TWO races, is what leads me to believe that I’m dealing with a conspiracy theory.

To wit:

2016. I signed up for two races. I paid to do a women’s running group. I attended the first two meetings. I got the ‘flu, even though (like every freaking year), I’d gotten the flu shot. I was so sick that I was hallucinating from lack of sleep. I couldn’t even begin to run again until well after the first race (a 5K) was over and the second (a half marathon) was quickly approaching.

2015. I signed up for five races. (An indoor tri, a sprint tri, two olys, and a 70.3). I secured the services of the best coach in these here You-Nited States of ‘Murica.  I placed 2nd in my age group in the indoor sprint tri. I immediately got a sinus infection and double pneumonia. Oh – and strep throat. AT THE SAME TIME. I did manage to do the second race I was signed up for, but just couldn’t get ‘er done for anything else.

Now – getting sick once as I begin a rigorous training schedule might be chalked up to an accident. And twice? Totally a coincidence. But three times in three springs? (This time, I feel like the weather started it, but when I made noises about heading to the gym to run on the treadmill, my body said, “Fuck this shit!”)

And the enemy is me.

And just in case you’re disinclined to believe me, in 2010 when I’d started training for my second marathon I hurt my foot so badly that I needed surgery. In 2011 when I started training for my (still second) marathon, I got pregnant. THAT WAS NO ACCIDENT! (Heh. See what I did there?)

2012 was kinda a wash, what with my dad dying and my kid being born, and the debilitating post partum depression.

What I’m saying is that my body is extremely opposed to training. Or rigor. Or any kind of physical motivation.

In fact, it seems to like sitting on the couch, arguing with misogynistic douchecanoes on the internet, and drinking wine eating fruit salad best of all.

Solution? Probably not continue to sit on the couch, arguing with asscandles on the internet (I’ve gotten one death wish and one FB block…I could strive to do better).

I told my PSM the other day that what I really need is for someone to invent a moderation pill. I’d be first in line to sign up for the clinical trial (that’s not an immoderate response, is it?). I just have no chill. I’m either all in or all out. I did my yoga as promised Monday – and accidentally found the hardest hip opening hatha class in existence. So when I realized how hard it was going to be, did I (a) stop the class and find another, easier class, (b) modify the harder poses to be gentle on my body, or (c) push as hard as I could because this gazelles doesn’t quit?

Fitspirational memes are very problematic for me.

Yeah. Obviously C. Could I move my legs without pain yesterday? No. No I could not.

I’m sure I’ve blogged about my struggle with moderation before. Things have not noticeably changed in the…ever since this has been a problem.

So, wise internets…what would you do? Continue to make ridiculous training plans that are impossible to successfully complete and then give up entirely when you fail? Skip that first part and go straight to the giving up entirely, but with wine?

If you are an immoderate person, how do you force yourself into moderation?

No, dammit! I want it RIGHT NOW!!

Speak to me! Tell me the solution that I can implement immediately, thus making myself a 123% better person by the weekend.

 

Sick of Myself

I’ve been sick for about a week and a half. This is honestly the sickest I’ve been in my recent memory. Sicker than the two times I got bronchitis last year. Sicker than the time last year I had pneumonia, a sinus infection, and strep throat at the same time. I feel like I haven’t felt well since about the beginning of December.

I know a decent amount of the lingering illness is due to months of stress and not sleeping. While I was sick, in fact, I literally did not sleep for 4 days. That was exciting in a hallucinatory vision questy way that was not actually all that exciting.

I’m just ready to feel good. To feel rested and healthy. To want to get up at 5 am in the morning to write and edit again. To have enough energy to run and yoga and stuff.

I’m so sick of being sick and tired. I feel like this is starting to be my new normal – that I’ll never have energy to write or work out again.

I know that I’ll catch up on sleep and energy again. I know that I’ll be able to run again and write again. It’s just hard to wait when I want to feel good now.

It’s easy to get trapped in a cycle of stress = no sleep = stress and I’m having trouble breaking that cycle.

I’m better with action plans than maybes and what ifs, but it’s hard to make a plan when I don’t know when I’ll feel well enough to follow through.

I’d really like to have an executable plan, though. Even something simple. Problem is, I’m not very good at simple plans. I’m more of a “90 minutes of yoga” or “3 miles minimum run” or “1 mile swim.” I don’t know what counts that’s less than that.

What’s a good place for someone perpetually exhausted to start?

unicorn yoga

That’s Just Sick

Yesterday, Mr. Bean turned thirty-four months old. We celebrated by not being sick! It was magical.

***

Last week was not my favorite week ever. Tuesday night just before midnight, the Bean woke up crying. He does this occasionally, and usually it’s pretty easy to get him back to bed. Lately? Not so much.

I went in to see what was up with this non-sleeping kidlet. “Mommy I sick,” he said. I paid little attention to his assertion because he claims to be sick whenever he has to do something he doesn’t want. I reached in to sooth him back to sleep and snatched my hand back. Kid was on fire!

I tracked down our thermometer – 102.6. Guess he’s actually sick this time. He wanted some water and I wanted him to have some Tylenol, so we did that and then I carried him to my bed to keep an eye on him. His respiratory rate gets really high when he has a fever and it always freaks me out.

I got up at five to go lead my weekly 5:30 am run, and got back to my house just before 6:30.

runner

I was just getting into my core workout when I heard the most pathetic whimpering from upstairs. This time the temp was 103.2.

I called in sick for me and the kid, handed out some more Tylenol, and then tried to get a little work done before he was awake.

He was awake pretty early, and Wednesday morning was no fun at all. Between the vomiting and the fever, Alvie was pretty miserable. It’s no fun having a really sick kid. I was trying to get him to drink something – anything – to replace the fluids. He didn’t eat anything all day although occasionally he’d ask for extremely large and elaborate meals. Pizza, cheese sandwiches, tater tots, cheeseburgers, milk, ice cream, and cookies. And then the nausea would set in.

sick bean

Most of Wednesday – in between trips to the bathroom – was spent watching eleventy million episodes of Dinosaur Train. If you’d asked me before last week what my favorite toddler TV show was, I would’ve said Dinosaur Train. After a few days of over exposure, I found myself inexplicably attracted to Dr. Scott the Paleontologist, curious as the real parentage of the The Conductor’s “nephew” Gilbert, and gleeful every time I remembered that the Archelon (and everyone else) is extinct.

archelon

spanish inquisition

Wednesday night, Bean woke me up with his hysterical sobbing. He was soaked in sweat – guess the fever broke? – and was apparently having fever-induced night terrors. It took forever to get him calmed down.

Thursday I went to work for a partial day, and then I was home again with Alvie and Dinosaur Train submarine all day Friday.

The architect brought me a beer

The architect brought me a beer

I know that my days staying home with my kidlet are not representative of what a full time SAHM would be. When I do it it’s due to illness or inclement weather, greatly limiting our options for leaving the house. But Holy Odin, I was about ready to run away by Saturday noon.

So I did. But just a little.

Sick Alvie is a Velcro Alvie, so I couldn’t even use that time to get anything done other than just provide as much love and cuddling as humanly possible.

The one exciting things throughout this adventure? Not a single daytime potty accident – even throughout the fever and vomiting – and only one nighttime accident (and considering how many fluids I was pushing, that’s not surprising…)

Bean leveled up to Potty Training Achieved!

The Superman Lego Potty Training Achieved set

The Superman Lego Potty Training Achieved set

By Sunday afternoon, he was fine but cranky…still a bit more cuddly than usual, but also showing signs of appetite (not back to normal yet) and energy (ditto).

Take my picture - I so cute.

Take my picture – I so cute.

 

Hopefully – knock on wood and kiss a black cat – we’re good for the year. I’d like to maintain my cardiac health for a bit longer.

 

Caffeine Ménage à Trois

The other night, I had a dream that the architect and I left the sleeping Alvie at home to take my loaner Jeep on a clandestine mission to break into a government facility for…reasons I can’t remember. I was so paranoid about getting caught and arrested and was angry at the architect for making me park close to the building entrance, because security cameras!

I woke up sweating, my heart pounding, convinced the cops would be breaking down my door at any minute to haul me to the hoosegow. It took a good five minutes of being awake to remember that it was extremely unlikely that I’d left Alvie at home (alone at night!) to break laws. I’ve never been known as “Lawbreaker” (I don’t think).

Anywhoosits, how are you? I’m sick. Again. I’m not sure what goes on at daycare, but I’m thinking that when there are no parents present, they put all the kids in a giant pool and spray them with germs, just to see what they catch and what they pass on. The Bean was sickly over the weekend – snot and coughing – but never lost his energy! Oh, no…that kid has enough energy to spare. I, however, can barely find enough energy to stay awake today, even after two large cups of coffee. I wish I could siphon from the Bean. It’s like five-hour energy, but more extreme. Maybe if 5-hour energy mated with Red Bull and then brought in some espresso beans for a threesome.

Yesterday, I suggested that maybe, just maybe, it was nap time. So he got all his little sleep companions (a monkey, a gorilla, and a bear), lined them up in his bed, pulled the covers over them, and said “shhhh” with his fingers over his lips. “Ni-ni.”

Nice try, kid, but you’re not fooling me.

Although today (if he were home, which he’s not), he might be able to talk me out of his nap if he pulled a blanket over me and said “ni-ni.”

Not sure why blue bear naps with his feet out like that, but I'd be willing to try that.

Not sure why blue bear naps with his feet out like that, but I’d be willing to try that.