The weekend was made of suck
I was sick. Again. Yay!!!
I came home from Christmas with a head cold. Not surprising really, the stress of traveling and total lack of sleep killed my recovering immune system (which is always at an all time low in the winter, me and the cold do not get along). Thursday the cold started traveling downwards. And the respiratory symptoms started.
They weren't as bad as they can get, but it was persistent. I wasn't able to get it under control and I started breathing worse. Scared the shit out of Renee and eventually we decided it might be a good idea of call an ambulance, have them bring a ventilator up and see if that helped, and if not to the hospital I was going to go. Now this is a big thing here mind you, I hate doctors and I will not call anyone unless I see no other option. This says a lot about how worried I was.
Well, when they arrived and caught their breath (walking up our stairs kills everyone), I found out that thankfully I sounded a lot worse than I actually was. After breathing in oxygen for a little while (while the EMTs chatted with us about our Amish heater, seven guys in the room all wanted to know how well it worked, how much electricity it sucked up, etc.) the tightness in my chest was gone and I was left with a very strong rattle in my throat.
This has been making me wonder if its not my anxiety acting up again. It used to do that a long time ago, tighten up my diaphragm something horrible and make the genuine respiratory symptoms I have during colds about a thousand times worse (one of the few times that the you're doing this to yourself diagnosis actually turned out to be accurate; one of the reasons I don't go see doctors anymore, I apparently have a "don't believe anything she says" sign on my forehead that only they can see, and there is little in this world I find more aggravating than being dismissed like that). It stopped after a few years when I learned to really control my breathing, and then I didn't think about it for a few years.
I had noticed that my colds were getting worse, but I thought that had a lot to do with being more active now than I ever had before when I was a recluse. Probably that is true, but I didn't think about the anxiety coming back. It was last winter when the shit really started, when I was living in the ghetto, just left a really bad situation with the previous room mates and was having problems with the one left, working at a job that made me miserable with the interpersonal drama, not to mention going to work when I was still technically under the weather, pushing my system harder when it really needed to rest longer. I was stressed and I knew it, so yeah, the anxiety rearing its head again wouldn't be that surprising.
That just really pisses me off though, to think that I had been making everything so much worse for myself than it needed to be. Sometimes I really hate my body. :-P
(just a quick note here, please do not bother suggesting that I go talk to someone about my anxiety problems; really, I'm sure you mean well and I'm glad that therapy/medication/what the fuck ever works for you, but its not happening here, not now not ever again. while i logically recognize that not everyone in psychiatry are a pack of evil sadists, I am forever colored by my past experiences and I don't believe in trusting the system to fix what it broke in the first place anyway)
After the EMTs left, I was able to control my breathing again. And after lying comfortably for three hours or so, not sleeping but finally able to relax, I had regained just enough strength to start coughing up everything in my chest.
That was my day yesterday, hacking up snot, I had a fever and a few other problems I won't share to spare your little brains. Was in bed pretty much unable to move much, wasn't able to eat a whole lot, I felt like death. I had gotten no sleep at all Friday, woke up mid afternoon Thursday and the cold kept me awake from then on, I had coughed up just enough to fall asleep Saturday afternoon. At first I was only able to nod off for five minutes at a time, then a half an hour, and then I finally passed out for the rest of the day and well into the evening.
I'm doing a little better so far. Not done with the coughing and hacking, but getting there. I'm up and mobile to a degree, but my body has been through a lot of strain and its very tired and sore right now.
So, no I didn't get to do anything for Hermes for the new year. But its delayed, not canceled. I'll probably put any grand ideas I may have had aside and do something small and sweet, since I think that's all I'll be capable of for the next week or so. Now that I can move and think straight again, maybe I can work on some of that writing I've been meaning to get a start on. I feel like I owe him for helping me through the latest crisis.
First Christmas misery and now this. Jeez, I'm going to take about a month to recover now. Let's just let this be the end of it right now. The physical problems anyway.
And, at the risk of being told how cute I am (*shakes fist*), I just want to say a public thanks to my wonderful girlfriend who sat with me through this whole miserable thing. Me sick and me sleep deprived are not pleasant things on their own and combined it makes for a *very* bitchy Gavin. I don't know how she puts up with me sometimes but I'm glad she does. Without her and Discord (who stayed glued to my side the whole time aside from the occasional five minute break to eat and use the litter box, who got up and came to look at me all sad eyed whenever I started coughing real hard; I love that cat, she is definitely my kitty in every way) I think I would have had a much worse time with it all. When I got sick at my mother's house it was pretty much fend for yourself, I'm not used to having someone willing to take care of me like that, it is a nice change. Love you. :-)
I came home from Christmas with a head cold. Not surprising really, the stress of traveling and total lack of sleep killed my recovering immune system (which is always at an all time low in the winter, me and the cold do not get along). Thursday the cold started traveling downwards. And the respiratory symptoms started.
They weren't as bad as they can get, but it was persistent. I wasn't able to get it under control and I started breathing worse. Scared the shit out of Renee and eventually we decided it might be a good idea of call an ambulance, have them bring a ventilator up and see if that helped, and if not to the hospital I was going to go. Now this is a big thing here mind you, I hate doctors and I will not call anyone unless I see no other option. This says a lot about how worried I was.
Well, when they arrived and caught their breath (walking up our stairs kills everyone), I found out that thankfully I sounded a lot worse than I actually was. After breathing in oxygen for a little while (while the EMTs chatted with us about our Amish heater, seven guys in the room all wanted to know how well it worked, how much electricity it sucked up, etc.) the tightness in my chest was gone and I was left with a very strong rattle in my throat.
This has been making me wonder if its not my anxiety acting up again. It used to do that a long time ago, tighten up my diaphragm something horrible and make the genuine respiratory symptoms I have during colds about a thousand times worse (one of the few times that the you're doing this to yourself diagnosis actually turned out to be accurate; one of the reasons I don't go see doctors anymore, I apparently have a "don't believe anything she says" sign on my forehead that only they can see, and there is little in this world I find more aggravating than being dismissed like that). It stopped after a few years when I learned to really control my breathing, and then I didn't think about it for a few years.
I had noticed that my colds were getting worse, but I thought that had a lot to do with being more active now than I ever had before when I was a recluse. Probably that is true, but I didn't think about the anxiety coming back. It was last winter when the shit really started, when I was living in the ghetto, just left a really bad situation with the previous room mates and was having problems with the one left, working at a job that made me miserable with the interpersonal drama, not to mention going to work when I was still technically under the weather, pushing my system harder when it really needed to rest longer. I was stressed and I knew it, so yeah, the anxiety rearing its head again wouldn't be that surprising.
That just really pisses me off though, to think that I had been making everything so much worse for myself than it needed to be. Sometimes I really hate my body. :-P
(just a quick note here, please do not bother suggesting that I go talk to someone about my anxiety problems; really, I'm sure you mean well and I'm glad that therapy/medication/what the fuck ever works for you, but its not happening here, not now not ever again. while i logically recognize that not everyone in psychiatry are a pack of evil sadists, I am forever colored by my past experiences and I don't believe in trusting the system to fix what it broke in the first place anyway)
After the EMTs left, I was able to control my breathing again. And after lying comfortably for three hours or so, not sleeping but finally able to relax, I had regained just enough strength to start coughing up everything in my chest.
That was my day yesterday, hacking up snot, I had a fever and a few other problems I won't share to spare your little brains. Was in bed pretty much unable to move much, wasn't able to eat a whole lot, I felt like death. I had gotten no sleep at all Friday, woke up mid afternoon Thursday and the cold kept me awake from then on, I had coughed up just enough to fall asleep Saturday afternoon. At first I was only able to nod off for five minutes at a time, then a half an hour, and then I finally passed out for the rest of the day and well into the evening.
I'm doing a little better so far. Not done with the coughing and hacking, but getting there. I'm up and mobile to a degree, but my body has been through a lot of strain and its very tired and sore right now.
So, no I didn't get to do anything for Hermes for the new year. But its delayed, not canceled. I'll probably put any grand ideas I may have had aside and do something small and sweet, since I think that's all I'll be capable of for the next week or so. Now that I can move and think straight again, maybe I can work on some of that writing I've been meaning to get a start on. I feel like I owe him for helping me through the latest crisis.
First Christmas misery and now this. Jeez, I'm going to take about a month to recover now. Let's just let this be the end of it right now. The physical problems anyway.
And, at the risk of being told how cute I am (*shakes fist*), I just want to say a public thanks to my wonderful girlfriend who sat with me through this whole miserable thing. Me sick and me sleep deprived are not pleasant things on their own and combined it makes for a *very* bitchy Gavin. I don't know how she puts up with me sometimes but I'm glad she does. Without her and Discord (who stayed glued to my side the whole time aside from the occasional five minute break to eat and use the litter box, who got up and came to look at me all sad eyed whenever I started coughing real hard; I love that cat, she is definitely my kitty in every way) I think I would have had a much worse time with it all. When I got sick at my mother's house it was pretty much fend for yourself, I'm not used to having someone willing to take care of me like that, it is a nice change. Love you. :-)